2008 China Prize
Wang Baozheng

Ludwig Mies van der Rohe: Architecture begins where two bricks are carefully jointed together.

Francesco Dal Co has stated strongly, “Our attention should not fall on the curious, reductive image of the ‘two bricks,’ but on what is required for their joining to create something architecturally significant; ‘carefully’ is the key word here. Planning, building, and Baukunst imply continual care. And such attention demands dedication, ‘idleness,’ and time—irrevocable decisions, as Nietzsche instructs.”

I must create excellent architecture. With determination and care while following a path of uncertainty, I will seek a strong direction from familiar materials, structure, form, space, function, and nature (light, wind, rain, snow, etc.). Meanwhile, I will seek innovative architecture and design solutions based in traditional methodology.

Once having faith, there will be yearning. Europe is an attractive place in my dreams all the time, and the works created by great architects are the source of my religion. On this trip in Europe, I visited many cities, many historic sites, many great works. High gothic churches filled me with deep respect, dainty roof arches made many thoughts come into my mind, quiet alleys made me relaxed, the elegant New National Art Museum made me ponder pilgrimage, the solemn and stirring monument of Jews murdered made me bleak and dolorous, the wrathful Jewish Museum made me afeared, the avant-garde Bauhaus stirred me, the oblique Ufa Cinema made me unhinged, the luxuriant Venice Architecture Biennale made my eyes busy, unvarnished and noble works by Carlo Scarpa made me contemplative, simple and quiet Indian modern architecture at the Venice Architecture Biennale made me very calm. . . . I thought ceaselessly, so every wind, every ray of sunshine, and every brick seemed to contain my faith.

After excitement, I slowly become calm. My thinking returns to my motherland, which is developed in full swing and abnormally. Where will she go? This travel made me think of some problems as a Chinese architect.

Alike in Appearance and Alike in Spirit

“Appearance and spirit” is Chinese philosophical terminology. Zhuang ZI, a great philosopher in the Warring States period, said that in the book of Zhi Bei You, “Spirit is born from Tao, appearance is born from spirit.” Chinese classical theories of painting often discuss “alike in appearance and alike in spirit;” “appearance” means shape or figure, and “spirit” means sustenance in spirit that painters try to find. Ku Kaizhi, a famous painter of the Eastern Jin dynasty, said in his book of Praise on Paintings of the Wei and Jin Dynasties, that if only depicting spirit through appearance, the trend and power of lifelike spirit would die away. Fan Chen, a materialistic philosopher in the Southern dynasty, particularly said that in his paper of "Discussion on Death of God," “appearance” was the support of “spirit,” and “spirit” was the intention of “appearance.” In the Yuan dynasty, there are two famous painters that discuss “Alike in appearance and alike in spirit.” One of them is Tang Hou, who pointed out that painting plum blossoms meant depicting plum blossoms in impressionistic form, painting bamboo meant depicting bamboo in impressionistic form, painting orchids meant depicting orchids in impressionistic form, and depicting through impression didn’t pursue “alike in appearance.” The other is Ni Yuanlin, who earlier proposed through flying thinking and accumulation, only several impressionistic and elegant painting lines didn’t go in for “alike in appearance,” depicting spirit through appearance would create consummate compatibility of appearance and spirit. Up to the Qing dynasty, Qi Baishi popularly summarized that “alike in appearance” was kitsch, less “alike in appearance” was deceiving, the best was between alike and unlike.

In my opinion, at a certain level, all art will communicate with each other. Many great Western architects, such as Le Corbusier, Ludwig Mies van der Rohe, Carlo Scarpa, and so on, went through between tradition and modern, and their great works are very successful in “alike in spirit.” The concept of “alike in spirit” is not only about modern examples of art and architecture based on a strong understanding of traditional culture, but also about tracing modern civilization back to its cultural roots. For Chinese architects, whether studying local traditional culture or western modern civilization, we must seriously study and understand the spirit, rather than superficial form.

Usual and Unusual

“Usual” is the base of “unusual.” When I was young, my father taught me calligraphy. He often admonished that since ancient times all of the great calligraphers practiced from regular script to running script, and then from running script to cursive hand, because regular script was the base; when regular script was practiced to a certain extent, one could grip the technique of writing, the framework and the soul of the characters, and then could make cursive hand, which is like a flying dragon or dancing phoenix or moving cloud or flowing water, bare bone and muscle, blood and muscle, spirit and soul. Wang Xizhi is so, Wang Xianzhi is so, and Zhang Xu is also so. Simultaneously, I think of the changes of Picasso, Van Gogh, Le Corbusier, Peter Eisenman, and so on. In my opinion, most of Chinese architects are at the beginning stage of development, so we should master the neat and precise “regular script,” after which, we could pursue the unrestrained and ethereal “cursive hand.” Otherwise, we will create disorder in the planning and design of buildings in the cities of China. As I wandered in the streets of Europe, I observed the orderly and precise modern architecture, which made me fall into thought.

How can the “usual” be transformed to the “unusual”? Continuous practice and refinement is key. There are many nice stories in Chinese literature about this. The poem of Jia Dao, a famous poet in the Tang dynasty, is that “birds live in the trees near the pool, and the monk knocks the door in the moonlight,” the word “knock” is very nice; another poem in the Tang dynasty is that “a stream of wind suddenly appears, creasing a pound of spring water,” the word “crease” is very spiritualizing; the poem of Song Qi in the Northern Song dynasty is “spring is busy on the branch of red apricot,” the word “busy” is so appropriate; the famous poem of Wang Anshi in the Northern Song dynasty is “the wind of spring greens the riverside again,” the word “green” is very wonderful. . . . In addition, the speech of Francesco Dal Co at the beginning of the article seems to bring out the truth. It is the word “carefully” that appears several times. What does he seek “carefully” on Earth? Relationship. For poetry, it is context and artistic conception; for architecture, it is the resultant force among familiar material, frame, form, space, function, and nature (light, wind, rain, snow, etc.), which I pursue clingingly. After repeated practice and refinement, the “usual” could be transformed to the “unusual,” and a usual word could be transformed to a poem. Just as Ludwig Mies van der Rohe said, “The language of architecture needs order. It may be the style of common language, but if you are very excellent in handling, you will become a poet.”

The end result of “unusual” is “usual,” but this “usual” is not the first “usual.” Zhuang Zi said in his article “Mountain Wood” that “since carving since chiseling, return to the unadorned.” Similarly, Le Corbusier also said “people think that they can chide unadorned is indigent. But they are no more than some incompetents, they can’t distinguish resplendence from unadornment, which is just similar to that they can’t create resplendence from unadornment.” The small wooden house Le Corbusier built for himself in his old age seems to be the best evidence of a “usual,” which is not the first “usual.”