(The Beinecke Rare Book & Manuscript Library at Yale University)
Check out this adaptive reuse to create a new library in Brooklyn!
The library is a sweet insertion into an old industrial building. Cutaways and separations from the wall make it feel like an independent body nestled within the rugged frame. Even better, these same cutaway elements expose the old brick walls and board-formed concrete ceiling, their textures highlighted in contrast to the smooth white surfaces of the insertion.
The curves of the new also play against the linear of the old, brought to a culmination by the curvaceous pavilion in the centre. Here the wood exterior and bold colours of the equally curvaceous openings again enhance their presence by playing off the more subdued surroundings.
Very cool. In a way it is very “simple”, and probably economical, but done with great panache to create a very compelling space to be in, a perfect library environment. Nicely done.
Last week was such a gem… but Labrouste was not finished! Nearly two decades later a second reading room was finished, this time for the National Library of France and it is equally stunning. Moving from the double barrel vault of the Bibliothèque Sainte-Geneviève, this reading room switches to a series of vaults, elegantly supported by a grove of his signature thin steel columns.
There’s a lot of lovely play going on here. The columns and arches that define the perimeter of the room are massive and weighty, contrasting with those delicate columns and the filagree-enhanced arches that flare from each column to support the vaults. But look closer – notice that the vaults don’t actually rest against those heavy outer bits. Rather, there’s an independent column placed in front of each that heightens the soaring of the vaults overhead. So much about the vaults is in contrast with the walls that support the stacks, yet they still marry together perfectly.
Such a beauty all over. Great stuff.
This is such a gem. From 1851. Kinda surprising, for it looks decidedly modern. Indeed was in many ways, for it was one of the first buildings to use steel in such a monumental way, not only to create these massive open bays of space (and thus monumental structure) but also in such strikingly decorative ways (and thus monumental in decoration).
Beyond even that though, what must have been the most stunning for those visiting it in the 1850s was the slenderness of the steel columns. Used to the large and heavy stone or wood structure of contemporary buildings, the lightness and slenderness of these columns must have been wonderous to behold, mixed with perhaps no small amount of trepidation. Could something that thin support so much roof?
This building was also somewhat of a first in that it was a public building that paid more attention to its inside than its outside. That said, the outside is a classic creation with a decidedly unclassical twist: the inside is reflected on the façade (ie, the function informed the form). Check out the representation of the book stacks from within, complete with author’s names.
Definitively a momentous architectural work and still a wonder to this day.
An amazing set of photos by Xavier de Jauréguiberry of the amazing Phillips Exeter Academy Library. This one is a classic, an amazing combination of geometry, proportions, materials, and light to create this remarkable spatial experience. I also love how understated it is from the outside – striking in its own way for sure, with its intriguing with its heavy load-bearing brick construction and classical regularity that gives the impression of a stacked series of arcades (almost coliseum like?), which is further enhanced by the actual arcade at its base and that open-air bit at the top. But within this smooth exterior is the explosion of space at its centre, with circles meeting squares, with concrete meeting wood, and with light diffused into an ephemeral glow via a heavy structural frame. And the ancillary spaces are done with equal care and precision. Exquisite work.
Presidential libraries are an… interesting conceit. This new design for the upcoming Teddy Roosevelt library caught my eye however, for the way it tries hard to not catch the eye. Trying to capture his love of landscape, the library nestles itself into a landform. It’s not trying to pretend it’s a natural hill, but rather complement them while providing porches and perches to view the so-called “badlands” of nearby Teddy Roosevelt National Park.
The whole project really needs to be seen in terms of context of its site plan, with paths and follies that dot the landscape, connected to trails and sweeping elevated boardwalks. Not to mention the green roof which becomes a path in its own right, and the material palette of engineered wood and lovely rammed earth.
Perhaps it’s not surprising that I would love this, given how much I’ve gushed in the past about its architects, Snøhetta. Who are no strangers to libraries both epic (Library of Alexandria) and integral (Calgary Library), nor strangers to working to engage the wonders of the site around them (such as with their cabins or the theatrical Under).
Sound wave? Tectonic shift? Mountains? However you read the shape it forms a strong identity for this library that edges up on one side to a wooded ravine.
While its big portico entrance welcomes you inside, only clerestory windows face the rest of town. Along the ravine, however, the building is one continuous strip of window. Beyond being something sculpturally nifty (which it is), the highly angular roof divides the space within into zones for reading, shelving, and enclosure (study booths, multipurpose rooms, offices) while also allowing light from above to make the building glow.
For a smallish branch library, the building is perfect, a straightforward and rectangular layout elevated to be distinct and inviting and cool. Great stuff.
Take the profile of the row houses in a Netherlands village, squish and compress and combine, and you have the fun shape of this community centre. That includes, among other things, a library, which resides under one of its high peaks supported these soaring forms of laminated lumber:
Oh this one’s awesome… (and kinda close to my hometown!) An over 125 year old romanesque post office brought to new purpose to become a ‘bookless’ library, filled with creative labs and maker spaces and more. And it’s not just the stately post office building, it’s a new wrap-around glass pavilion that reaches out to engage the adjacent canal and make the whole shebang a part of the community space.
So, yeah, that gallery that hangs out over the river pretty much sells the whole thing. I mean, the original (and restored) post office is also lovely, with its arched windows, half turrets, towers, steep gable roof, and the brick and stone. All of that is enhanced with the new glass and steel surround that cantilevers not just once, but twice, hovering first over the water, then above over a patio/deck. And the undersides of which hasn’t been neglected, with polished aluminum and integrated lighting that speaks towards a future river walk. It’s dynamic and playful and though a very different language than the original building that contrast enhances each other, even more so when they are reflected off the water whether by day or, glowing like a lantern, at night.
Lots of light, lots of great views to the river and city beyond, and more interplay between the crisp new and the rugged old are what awaits within. These two languages combine in a culmination in the third floor maker space, inhabiting the cathedral-like space under the old high-pitched roof amongst the old support frames.
For an added bonus, there’s the glass ceiling that looks up into the old clock tower, putting the mechanisms on display!
Very cool project, another example of taking something already existing and, through re-use and a clever set of additions, turning it into something even greater. Plus public maker spaces/etc are a great addition to a community (I loved the one at the new library in Helsinki). And if you, like me, still love traditional book-filled libraries, there’s one right across the river.
What a beautiful chaotic mass! There’s certainly no missing this building, jutting froth from the ground as it does, like the tectonic plates of the region that inspired it. As a cultural centre, it announces itself most unabashedly.
It’s also got a touch of a European castle influence mixed in there, I think. But that’s my projection from what I’m used to, for my eye also projects a little bit of climbing gym wall as well…
The wonderful chaos continues within. Not that this is true chaos, of course – you can certainly tell the difference between a carefully designed explosion of expressiveness and rhythm versus true random splatter construction. Here it’s all geometric exuberance writ large, creating shelves and nooks for all manners of books and objects and art, including multimedia! All choreographed through circulation, charting a decidedly spatial journey.
Very cool and lots of fun. A great fusion of a library, art museum, and natural history museum.