
Hansjörg Hilti im Gespräch mit
David Porter
(*1946) war Head of Architecture der Glasgow School of Art von 2000 bis 2011. Er lebt in London.
David, our institution is celebrating its 50th anniversary this year. May I ask you for some comments how you perceived us over the years?
I have now visited the University of Liechtensten three times, I think. I get the impression of it still being a «work in progress» – having a strong character, but still finding its place. This strikes me as a very productive situation, particularly as, at the events that I come to, everyone joins in discussion where things stand and where they might go, for once places decide who they are, they get old. What has been noticeable is the increased emphasis on urbanism and on sustainability, and the two together. I look forward to seeing where this leads. My own views about urbanism are shaped by spending the last ten years in Glasgow, a city whose population has decreased by half and suffered from industrial collapse, but is also one of the most culturally vibrant cities in Europe. I have now returned to London which is a giant city in a not so large country – its population is nearly twice that of Scotland, and with huge cultural diversity. For me, the issues in both these cities are complex and difficult, but have a clear shape. So it is not easy for me to get the measure of what urbanism and sustainable urbanism mean in a country so small, and so prosperous, as Liechtenstein. That is to say, there are issues for you, but they are not clear to me yet. And how far will your students go in working out the carbon footprint of their projects?
As you say above, that is «work in progress». I do believe that a responsible attitude towards our environment and future generations, in another terminus «sustainability», is our key expertise. We have and teach the knowledge to reduce the carbon footprint in buildings and we are finding our place on a regional urban scale.
David, we first met at the East London University in the 1990s, then again in Crete and Glasgow. You have known our school for many years. What comes to your mind when you think about us?
First thing that comes into my mind is the work that you showed when you came to the University of East London, probably in 1995. A new alpine architecture of great sophistication, made like a BMW but in wood. This made a huge impression on me. I was pretty bad at school and so they encouraged me with art, pottery and woodwork. When I was 13 I got the woodwork prize! Then I got a bit better at more academic studies, and returned only slowly and much later to understanding things through wood. So the idea of a wood architecture is still interesting to me, not just in terms of technology, but a whole way of thinking and feeling about things through wood. I am glad that your school is not dominated by wooden alpine architecture, but also very glad that it is not forgotten and still lives.
So Hansjörg, is wood important to you? And when did you start getting interested in it?
As you know I worked for one year in Helsinki, there I saw a lot of wonderful wooden buildings, wonderfully detailed. A couple of years later and back in Liechtenstein, me and two friends found a 200 year old wooden house we were able to rent and renovate. A very skilled carpenter showed me how to craft wood. Later, I was able to design my first wooden house in Austria and in 1981 we realised our own home in wood together with three other families in Schaan.
Your hut in Steg made a big impression on me when I was with you in July. Partly because of the complete absence of any light in the sky – the darkest of nights, only sounds, including of a stream – and being surrounded by old, dark and completely «seasoned» wood. Everything is in wood except the glass in the windows.
I did not know about your Helsinki connection, but I too got much closer to the idea of wood visiting Helsinki for the first time, late 1980s, with students. I bought a book on traditional timber buildings in Finland, which sat on my bookshelf next to a wonderful book I still have – «Form and Space of Japanese Architecture» – mainly comprising photographs by Norman F. Carver that I bought as a young architect. The Finnish book I lent to some students who never returned it, but the Japanese book I still have – maybe you know it? If not, I’ll show you when you next come to London.
It interests me that carpentry can become a whole new way of thinking about things. For an architect, almost everything you need to make can be made from wood. And the carpenter is necessary present right from the beginning of the building through to the end. And of course wood grows on trees, eating carbon as it goes. And so for me timber is a metaphor for architecture, architectural thinking and for an architect’s understanding of the world. No wonder the Greeks did that strange thing of translating timber into stone to make their temples – are they temples in wood or to wood? So you have made a school that does not limit itself to timber construction, but holds on to it as a way into architecture, which strikes me as a very wise move.
Let’s come back to our school. Wood is my story, the school’s is another one.
If the first thing in thinking about you is to think of WOOD, the second is the extraordinary landscape of Liechtenstein: this tiny country at the heart of Europe that is very special but is also very international. Cow bells and capitalism coexist. It is an elevated meeting place for trading architectural ideas were we have a parallel existence to the bankers who trade in invisible money. In July we visited a prize winning cheese-maker in the upper valley, the epitome of the «local» – his cheese made from the milk of his cows eating his grass, but we did so in a group that included a Dutchmen, an Englishmen and two Japanese (one living in Italy). That’s the school for you: the local and the international with little in between but a stimulating creative tension.
Am I right that you are the only Liechtensteiner teaching in the school? And how many of your students are from Liechtenstein?
No, I am not the only one and about 10 percent of our students are from Liechtenstein. Maybe we are a mirror image of the national economy. HILTI, the tool maker company, employs people of about 50 different nationalities.
Finally, I remember the Greek dancing, Zorba style, in the Kriti Bar in Chania. Others sat and drank, but you were up there with the local guys and dancing, not like the tourists, but as someone who understands what it means to bring the sole of your shoe down hard on the beat.