Gifted buildings are potent mechanisms of geopolitical reshuffling, premised on an uneven power relation between giver and receiver. How do such exchanges shape cities in transition?
Frances Richard: You have been working for several years on ideas of the architectural gift, and have realized this research in a number of projects. To cite a few: an exhibition you’ve co-organized with Damjan Kokalevski called “The Gift: Stories of Generosity and Violence in Architecture” recently opened at the Architectural Museum in Munich. In 2022, you were convener for a conference at the British Academy titled “The Gift of Architecture: Spaces of Global Socialism and Their Afterlives.” And your 2020 monograph Architecture in Global Socialism: Eastern Europe, West Africa, and the Middle East in the Cold War explores issues of international largesse and exchange — what you call “socialist worldmaking.”
Housing project for Libya, designed by Romproiect (Romania), 1980s. The design and construction of buildings such as this were typically subject to barter agreements. [Arhivele Naţionale ale României, f. Romproiect, 7288]
A focus on architectural gift-giving affords new ways of thinking about the worldwide processes triggered by capitalist industrialization and colonial exploitation.
Would you talk about the parameters and findings of this research? What is the architectural gift, as exemplified in what kinds of sites? Why has the inquiry followed the trajectories it has?
Łukasz Stanek: Architectural gift-giving is embedded in a long tradition of imperial and religious donations of buildings. But my collaborators and I have been interested in its relationship to modern urbanism; in how a focus on architectural gift-giving affords new ways of thinking about the worldwide processes triggered by capitalist industrialization and colonial exploitation since the 18th century. In my book, the temporal frame is more restricted: I studied Cold War collaborations — often unequal — between architects, planners, and construction companies from socialist countries in Eastern Europe, and their counterparts in West Africa and the Middle East. The movement of labor, blueprints, and construction materials and technologies across these geographies shaped cities such as Accra, Lagos, Baghdad, Abu Dhabi, Kuwait City, and many others, from the 1950s to the 1980s. Gifted buildings were among the most visible interventions by means of which the Soviet Union, China, and other socialist countries both supported the newly independent countries, and hoped to achieve political leverage and economic gains. To cite a few examples: the National Assembly Building in Conakry, a Chinese gift to Guinea; the Kikwajuni housing district in Zanzibar, an East German gift; or the House of Culture and Youth Theatre Complex in Darkhan, a Soviet gift to Mongolia.
Timothy Latim: Reflections on Kigali writing workshop
Context
I was invited to the one week writing workshop as a guest mentor to discuss with the students of architecture, how photography can be used to support architectural writing and design. The workshop held at the University of Rwanda was in close proximity to three of the buildings being studied and I got a chance to visit and discuss the buildings with the students.
First Impressions
Kigali is coined as the city of a thousand hills. An apt description of it. Standing at any one hill one observes the landscape unfolding, the undulating hills reveal themselves in layers to the observer. While it serves as an incredible sight, the topography is also a major influence in the design and development of Kigali. The varying layers of landscape can as a metaphor to the influence that the city has had over its history. This is apparent in the diversity of essays and research topics presented by the students. A broad reflection would categories these into three main ideas in regards to time. Colonial history, contemporary influence and ambitions of the city.
Historical – Colonial influences.
The influence on Rwanda predates the shadow of genocide. Into the realm of both native history and colonial influences. A guided tour and with the student to the Administration Building reveals an interesting dialogue between the architectural influences from the Belgium in the design and construction of the building. These were noted to be the fair faced used of materials in construction. While changes in the dynamics of Rwanda socially and politically influenced the use of the Administration building over time, from the use by military all the way to a university campus. Similar traces of the Belgium influence can be found all around the Univeristy. Which was interesting to being to unravel alongside the students.
Administration block University of Rwanda
Contemporary influences.
Completed in 2014 by Kigali by FBW Group. The Library complex serves an example of a contemporary building. A reflection of the trends and issues currently being resolved by the architecture fraternity. The use of form in the composition of the building. A conscious effort to design the building to be passive in regards to heating and cooling. And the use of locally available materials to clad the building.
Library college of science and technology, University of Rwanda
The School of Architecture, serves as an example of the wave of international architects responding to the regional influences on Rwanda. The School has a similar approach to its design. The form is prominent, a metaphorically it can be an interpretation to the hilly landscape. And the use of volcanic stone to clad the exterior of the building.
School of architecture, University of Rwanda
While both these buildings have a very strong relationship between form and programme. The studies done were focused more on the spatial and programmatic response of the architecture. From the space planing to the layout and interpretation of the materials on programme.
Future ambitions.
A walk around the civic Centre in Kigali, draws ones attention to the values being sought after. An egalitarian space, inclusive for all walks of life. And its in this context that Norsken is found, a stone throw away from the civic heart of the city hall. The building reflects on its insides what the civic centre reflects on its outsides. The buildings programmes vary across different fields with low tech to very high tech, future and contemporary issues with possible solutions. A hybrid of activity. Startups and established companies alongside each other.
The student investigations into this building were user-centric. Focus was placed on what layout and design choices were done; so the building created an egalitarian space and facilitated encounters among its users with the hope to encourage cross pollination of ideas in these chance encounters.
Its interesting to see that the same complexities on a country level, can still be found in the rich diversity in a small group of students. The workshop served as a fantastic incubation ground for research topics. Which was witnessed in the ideas presented by the students at the end of the workshop. The duration of the workshop forced the students to narrow down to the core ideas they could investigate. This was made possible perhaps by the daily feedback sessions between the mentors and the students. The mentors placed emphasis on reviewing what was written over what was said. One observation was that there was a some articles whose conclusions were presented without an understanding of the evidence. This was also addressed in the remarks given by the mentors. A suggestion would be to allow them a period of one week after the workshop, to research their topic and review their essay after.
What kind of art is left behind by totalitarian regimes? A new free-to-readbook called Congo Style: From Belgian Art Nouveau to African Independence explores the visual culture, architecture and heritage sites of the country today known as the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC). It does so by exploring two now-notorious regimes: King Leopold II of Belgium’s Congo Colony (1908-1960) and Mobutu Sese Seko’s totalitarian Zaire, established when he seized power in a military coup in 1965 after five years of political upheaval. We asked artist and visual culture scholar Ruth Sacks five questions about her book.
What did you set out to achieve?
Years ago, while I was in Belgium on an art residency, I became interested in the early modernist art nouveau movement (1890-1914). In architecture and art, this period is part of 20th century modernism, known for a minimal, clean aesthetic that’s influenced by new technologies and the advent of machines. Art nouveau is distinctive because it’s highly decorative, while still using the new building materials of iron and glass.
What interested me was the colonial nature of art nouveau. Art nouveau came with a very strong sense of defining newly formed (or unified) nation states in western Europe. It was the style used at world fairs. These were grand exhibitions showing off western countries’ scientific and cultural achievements, including the acquisition of colonies.
A colonial pavilion in the art nouveau style at the 1897 Brussels world fair in Belgium helped establish one of the names for Belgian art nouveau: “Style Congo”.
The style is distinctive for its curling, plant-like shapes and is a major tourist feature today. The years in which it was implanted in Brussels (about 1890-1905) directly coincided with the brutal Congo regime of Belgium’s King Leopold II.
Travelling to the DRC, I located actual art nouveau buildings from the early colonial period. But it was the state sites of the early Mobutu Sese Seko regime (1965 to 1975) that captured my attention. Like art nouveau, they are steeped in a sense of nationalism and aimed at impressing. For example, the Limete Tower (in use from 1974) on Boulevard Lumumba is a massive monument intended to be a museum celebrating national culture. A tower made up of a huge raw cement tube is topped by an organic floret shaped crown, with a curving walkway leading off from its rounded lower sections.
My experience of the capital city, Kinshasa, made me rethink what cities were and could be. Buildings like Limete Tower that were designed for very different infrastructures (far more ordered, European and US systems) have weathered in fascinating ways that are often related to extremely violent historic events.
I didn’t want to present a conventional study that only analyses the design of the architecture and its functionality. The book attempts to read sites like this within the particularities of their city, its streets, plants and histories.
What did you conclude about the Leopold period?
In Leopold II’s time, the king himself was cast as the villain of the “red rubber regime” in the Congo. The Belgian colonial regime under Leopold II committed atrocities connected to the rubber industry. (The 1897 Congo Pavilion was a pavilion within the Brussels World’s Fair dedicated to displaying how the Congo provided a lucrative and exotic resource to Belgium.)
Movements like the Congo Reform Association (mainly US and British) protested against horrific conditions, including torture and mutilation, that left at least a million Congolese people dead. A great deal of the focus was on Leopold II himself and his greed, which distracted attention away from the greater system of capitalist colonial expansion that was fully endorsed by Euro-American powers.
Famously, Leopold II never set foot in the Congo and neither did the art nouveau designers who fashioned buildings and exhibition pavilions relating to the Congo. I believe this distance from the realities of life in the Congo itself allowed for the fantastical forms that were created in Belgium.
What did you conclude about the Mobutu period?
Mobutu Sese Seko was widely maligned by the Euro-American press. What’s often ignored, to this day, is that he was put in place by Belgium and the US. He was painted as the villain of the African story, fulfilling the ultimate caricature of the African kleptocrat, yet he wouldn’t have come to power without the nature of the colonialism that came before him.
Belgian colonialism followed a logic of extractivism (removing natural resources to export them) that forced the Congolese economy to supply raw materials to the west (especially Belgium), which continues today.
Mobutu is considered corrupt in the Congo today and his military dictatorship was indeed brutal and controlled the Congolese people with fear. However, his commandeering of a cultural blooming in Kinshasa in the late 1960s and early 1970s was important. Instead of dismissing what he built as only the work of a dictator, my book draws out some of the complexity of this time and what it meant to celebrate African craft, art forms and traditional culture.
The process of appropriating Euro-American artistic ideas and architectural styles in order to celebrate Africanness, as an anti-colonial statement, still holds weight today. Many of Mobutu’s towering monuments are considered objects of pride in the city.
How does this live on today?
There is something to be gained from looking at what is left in the wake of tragically violent regimes and how their structures are treated within both their societies and their immediate surroundings. How material culture is made is as important as what is made. Reckoning with monuments and memorials, and considering how these are maintained in the city, can shed often unexpected insights into the ways histories are told.
My hope is that the book remains relevant as a sign there is value in picking apart material remains of regimes that aimed for total control, but never fully achieved it. The associations that build up around public spaces and exhibitions are not necessarily only to do with the circumstances of their making, but how these stories have been filtered over time. They can alienate people but they can also engender pride.
The extractivist attitudes I describe throughout the book, which see the Congo as a resource with bountiful raw natural materials, are still very much present in our day-to-day life. The cobalt in our smartphones, computers and electric cars is mined by labourers working in near slave conditions to feed our need for the latest technology. While Congo Style stays with historical examples in Kinshasa, the built material that follows colonial ecocide is the main topic.
We went to the Exhibition Preview at the V&A on Wednesday 20th February to see the opening of the Tropical Modernism exhibition – a full review is being prepared and we’ll share it shortly (currently under review elsewhere first…) – here’s just a few snaps from the evening…
It was an intriguing exhibition for TAG to visit – not least because most of the exhibits have already featured on this blog over the years. Perhaps the biggest privilege besides viewing all of the material was talking to Michael Hirst and discussing his work at Tema again. Some of Michael’s photographs are in the exhibition too. The first thing that stood out however, was the large queue to get in – it’s not often a private view has a long line outside…
Michael Hirst and his photographs of Tema from the late 1950s
Some of the other highlights include seeing the Buckminster Fuller geodesic dome restored and delicately hung from the ceiling. The last time we saw it was abandoned in the loft of a workshop at KNUST.
Buckminster Fuller Dome: in storage, KumasiDome restored and suspended from ceiling
There’s also some delightful perspective drawings by John Owusu Addo in the exhibition and a model of KNUST campus too. It was such a relief to see that these drawings are now being cared for. We produced some digital copies in 2016 and 2018 and hoping the share the full set of the precious drawings here soon.
drawings in the archive at KNUSTModel of the KNUST campusJohn Owusu Addo drawing at the exhibitionRestored model exhibited at the V&A
About TAGOur model of the Accra Community Centre was included alongside several other models, including Giani Rattan Singh’s timber model of Corbusier’s Assembly Building in Chandigarh, and an outstanding model of the Pragati Maidan in Delhi, by architect Raj Rewal (and foolishly demolished in 2017).
Accra Community Centre model, by David Grant and Iain JacksonRattan Singh’s timber model of Corbusier’s Assembly Buildingmodel of the Pragati Maidan in Delhi
It was great to see some of Pierre Jeanneret‘s furniture on display alongside the unexpected inclusion of Nek Chand‘s sculptures. It’s a curious exhibition pulling together a range of projects around Ghana and India, with snippets from Nigeria and elsewhere.
Jeanneret Furniture and Chandigarh sectionSculptures from Nek Chand’s Rock Garden, Chandigarh
An exhibition that we’ve been very much looking forward to opens this week at the V&A Museum in London. We’ve got a few of our models on display at the exhibition, and have been involved behind the scenes. There’s a large contingent from the Transnational Architecture Group making their way to various opening events this week and you can expect a series of reviews and critiques here shortly.
There’s also an article out today by Oliver Wainwright in The Guardian that discusses the exhibition concept – and some of our favourite buildings.
We inaugurated AHUWA’s Architecture in Nigeria Series this week with two talks from architects Seun Odowole and James Inedu George .
Pre-lecture tea with Susan Golligher; Maleka Egeonu-Roby, Michelle Charters, Obuks Ejohwomu; Ola Uduku, Seun Oduwole, James Inedu George, and Prof emeritus Tunde Zack Williams
After gathering at the Liverpool School of Architecture for pre-lecture tea, we talked across the Square to the new Yoko Ono Lennon Centre for the talks to begin. Both Seun and James are involved in designing new museums in Nigeria and Ghana, and we were joined by colleagues from the Liverpool International Slavery Museum who are collaborating with LSA and Feilden Clegg Bradley Studios on the refurbishment and reimagining of that space.
Join us at Liverpool School of Architecture this Wednesday 21st Feb 2024 at 14:30 for a lecture double bill discussing and showcasing contemporary Nigerian architecture, design practice and thinking.
We have two key players who are part of the the new contemporary West African Architecture scene. First we have Seun Oduwole, who graduated in Architecture from Nottingham University and after working in practice in the UK returned to Nigeria to set up his own practice Studio Imagine.Simply Architecture [SI.SA].
He will be speaking about his recently completed John Randle Centre in Lagos discussing the design history matters of heritage, and also the challenges of building on prime real estate in the Lagos central business district. As he has practiced both in the UK and now works as a diaspora returnee architect, we will hear his views on the contemporary West African Architecture scene.
We also have James Inedu George, a graduate of Ahmadu Bello University. He runs the architectural practice HTL Africa, whose main laboratory is in Lagos Nigeria. Currently, he and his firm, HTL Africa, are working towards creating canonical typologies for our cities from an intense research on (Hausa) Traditional Architecture.
James lectures internationally on a regular basis and has featured in several publications globally. HTL Africa’s interests range from cultural to cutting edge technological exploration through architecture. Creating what might be read as experimental architecture, this research and implementation firm has an output that is at once fresh, modern and forward thinking. HTL also has tentacles in Dubai.
Do come to join what is likely to be a really illuminating afternoon discussing contemporary Architecture and heritage issues in West Africa.
Architectures of Informal Empire in Architectural Theory Review
Recent efforts to understand the pervasiveness of empire and its legacies have done little to reorient and expand the geographic or theoretical focus of scholarship, often downplaying the broad range of political, commercial, and cultural relationships that empire was built upon. Yet imperial ambitions were almost always accompanied by multiple economic and civilisational claims that preceded or did not amount to direct colonisation. Aptly named the “Age of Empire” by Eric Hobsbawm, the nineteenth century witnessed unprecedented travel and exchanges made possible by the advances in technology and industry of the century, that served to advance economic and cultural aims simultaneously. A wide range of private and state actors, including missionaries, merchants, explorers, archaeologists, doctors, nurses, and scientists thus helped expand, articulate, and consolidate both the reach of western “civilisation” as a standard and the petrification of indigenous civilisations as backwards and “other.” Neither have all imperial activities been recognised as such. Some empires, like the United States, engaged in similar processes driven wholly by private actors, without the apparatus of a colonial state, while positioning themselves as “anti-imperial.” And some regions, like the Eastern Mediterranean, while never “formally” colonised—depending on our definition of colonialism—were significantly shaped by “informal” foreign interests. But almost three decades since Mark Crinson introduced the history of informal imperialism into architectural history, such areas remain marginal in studies of colonial architecture and urbanism. In these areas that were the site of informal or inter-imperial contestation, or that were subject to what Ann Laura Stoler calls “affective” security regimes, the projects of private actors often led to extensive economic, material, and spatial configurations whose reverberations continue to be felt, even today. Architecture, as an embodiment of territorial, political, economic, and cultural imaginations, was integral both to these processes and to their contemporary endurance.
This issue seeks to explore the boundaries of what can be considered “colonial” in histories of architecture and urbanism, in the past as in the present. It asks how we can define and describe the architectural and urban projects that accompany imperial ambitions, both formal or informal, and their spatial, material, and cultural imprint on the territories in which they are implemented. How can we meaningfully question the legacies of missionary projects, of infrastructural concessions, or developmental aid, to mention only a few examples, especially when such projects came without a colonial state? What do we learn about the entanglement of architecture and political power if we begin from the buildings and sites around which proto-imperial and para-imperial processes took place, rather than from the study of a single or formal imperial state?
We welcome contributions that explore new theoretical questions and methodological approaches to the study of architectures of informal empire—that foreground the affective power of buildings in the past or present; the entanglements of state and non-state actors in informally colonised regions; instances of intra- or inter-imperial contestation or collaboration, including with local elites; or the broader cultural and/or economic relationships inscribed in space that survive after the dismantling of colonial states. We also encourage empirical contributions that focus on geographies and actors that have remained marginal in the scholarship on colonial architecture and urbanism, that can dislodge the primacy of the single colonial state. By expanding our understanding of the “colonial” in architectural history, we hope to gain new insights into the contemporary and enduring manifestations of empire in the built environment—a necessary starting point for any true attempts at future decolonisation.
North of Ibadan is a 3000 acre site devoted to investigating farming, agriculture, and produce production in the tropical regions called the International Institute of Tropical Agriculture, or IITA. It’s a vast campus-laboratory established in 1967 and designed by Haines, Lundberg & Waehler – a US based architectural practice founded in 1888, and with various offices around the middle east and Africa. Whilst the main purpose of the campus is to conduct research (funded by various countries and conglomerates, and originally by the Ford and Rockefeller foundations) it also operates a hotel and contains all the usual facilities.
The bedrooms are arranged in large linear blocks with gallery access that utilises the dramatic level changes. The bedrooms all have cross-ventilation and louvred facades – although AC has been retro-installed at some point. It’s a pristine campus and a carefully manicured landscape.
In the shadow of the 26 storey Cocoa House (Africa’s tallest structure at one point – 1964-65 , architect?, contractor Cappa and D’Alberto) is a small, much more interesting, circular building clad in mosaic and topped with a dome. The splayed cantilevered entrance leads to a swimming pool with beautiful concrete diving boards and viewing gallery. The circular building is now a night-club.
From here we visited the library complex and another domed building with vertical brise-soleil used by FirstBank. We continued to Fry and Drew’s Co-operative bank tower with its associated set of structures set behind, including the Obisesan Hall (similar to Trenchard Hall in its outline but lacking the expensive materials and finish) and a series of shops and flats. It’s an interesting grouping of projects covering a city block and bringing together office, assembly, retail, and residential spaces into a mixed use constellation.
Archival / Library buildingBanking hallLibraryCo-op Banking Tower, Fry and DrewObisesan Hall, Fry and DrewFlats and shops, Fry and Drew
Opposite is Design Group’s Finance House (now Aje House) with the concave mosaic above the entrance. The Nigerian Broadcasting house is also here, again clad in the distinctive blue tessellating tiles that are a key feature of Ibadan’s modernist structures. The Kingsway store (by T P Bennett, 1960) has a distinctive tower competing for attention as Ibadan’s architecture increased its scale and storey heights during the post-independence boom. Each façade of the store is given a different treatment – the tricolour mosaic façade responds to the Broadcasting House opposite and whilst the east and west facing facades are treated with vast brise soleil built on rubble walling. It’s a major project, and once the largest store in the city fitted out with fine materials. Part of the building is still occupied, but it’s dilapidated and suffering from years of neglect.
Aje House (formerly Finance House); Design GroupMosaic art work by entrance of Aje HouseBroadcasting HouseMural on Broadcasting HouseIbadan KingswayIbadan KingswayIbadan KingswayFacade detail on Ibadan Kingsway
John Holts offices sits opposite and the United Africa Company offices is also amongst this mercantile cluster, with its distinctive symmetrical ‘deco’ façade and projecting canopies could be a late James Lomax-Simpson project?
John HoltsUnited Africa Company
We couldn’t visit Ibadan without calling at the modernist campus at University of Ibadan. We visited Trenchard Hall and the administrative block, as well as Kenneth Dike Library. As well as these Fry and Drew classics we revisited the small Chapel of the Resurrection designed by ecclesiastical architect George Pace (1915–75).
Off campus it was a real privilege to finally visit the Dominican Chapel by Demas Nwoko (b1935)- winner of the Venice Bienalle Golden Lion Award 2023. This tribute was long overdue for this visionary polymath artist. His work is difficult to describe, but easy to understand and enjoy. Architecture is Nwoko’s medium. He uses architecture (i.e. space, light, volume, materials, procession) as others sculpt clay or apply paint.
The chapel has various layers – each element works as a distinct component whilst adding to the whole. I particularly enjoyed the loggia at the back of the chapel, as well as the flow of light down from the steeple onto the alter below. It’s quirky and full of whimsey, but there are no gimmicks or affected gestures – it’s a beautiful chapel and a joyful place.
Transnational Architecture Group 