"Appreciating the role of colour in architecture is a great missed opportunity of the Bauhaus"

It’s a shame that, although colour theory was taught at the Bauhaus, it was considered too feminine for architecture, says Michelle Ogundehin in this Opinion as part of our Bauhaus 100 series.


The Bauhaus employed four artists whose theories on the use of colour underpin everything we think of as contemporary colour theory. So why, despite this enduring influence, did they have so little impact on the architectural output of the day?

At its simplest, theorising about colour can be broken down into three core lines of enquiry: how should colours be ordered, which ones work best together, and how might they most “correctly” be employed.

And while Walter Gropius, founder of the Bauhaus, was renowned for his personal disdain for the use of colour in his buildings, it’s testament to his desire for debate that colour theory was taught as part of a mandatory foundation unit at the school. However, it’s notable that he invited artists to do this, not architects.

As such, the course was led initially by the Swiss expressionist Johannes Itten, followed by Paul Klee, Wassily Kandinsky and finally Josef Albers; each adding their own unique twist to the quest to decipher colour.

It’s testament to Gropius’ desire for debate that colour theory was taught as part of a mandatory foundation unit

Originally trained as a primary school teacher, Itten, driven by a desire to impose a logical structure upon the spectrum, had a very methodical way of working. Although he wasn’t the first to come up with a colour wheel – that honour is said to fall to Sir Isaac Newton in 1666, and certainly many after Newton did the same – the sophistication of his approach distinguishes him, and ensures many of his ideas remain relevant today.

For although he arranged colour in the traditional format of primary, secondary and tertiary colours, he further refined his wheel with theories of seven possible modes of contrast between the shades. As he put it, “he who wants to become a master of colour must see, feel, and experience each individual colour in its many endless combinations with all other colours. Colours must have a mystical capacity for spiritual expression, without being tied to objects.”

Thus, notwithstanding his rigorously analytical thinking, he also highlighted the less tangible, psychological affects of colour and was one of the first to associate different hues with varied personality types, as well as the idea of warm versus cool colours. In this way, much current seasonal colour analysis, particularly as used by the cosmetics industry, owes a debt to the teacher turned painter.

Post Itten, Kandinsky, a Russian pioneer of abstract modern art, taught at the school until it closed in 1933. He encouraged his students along a more freewheeling and emotive path. For him, colour had profoundly spiritual connotations and he believed it could only be interpreted as a kind of musical score with certain colours expressed as specific notes (for example yellow was a middle C).

And yet, in a move that I find contradictory to his musical analogies, he also assigned to colours geometric shapes; thus yellow was also best represented as a triangle; blue by a circle, and red always as a square.

But the direct application of Kandinsky’s theorising to architecture was negligible

Regardless, the very confluence of these seemingly opposing paradigms resulted in the paintings which made him famous, and arguably inspired many great artists that followed from Mark Rothko and Jackson Pollock to Julian Schnabel. But the direct application of Kandinsky’s theorising to architecture, or even design, was somewhat more negligible.

His teaching at the Bauhaus overlapped with that of the Swiss painter and printmaker Paul Klee, very much a comrade in arms. He supported Kandinsky’s ideas of colour harmony and its relation to music, and also passionately advocated its disassociation from a purely naturalistic, representative role in art. For both Klee and Kandinsky, the sensorial potential of colour was its true power, whether neatly categorised or not.

Disappointingly though, it seemed it was only within the privacy of their own homes that either felt able to take their colour concepts off the canvas and into their surroundings. The pair lived in adjacent semi-detached houses for six years, and when renovation work was carried out on the properties in the early 1990s, reports revealed some seven-different layers of paint and over 200 shades applied to the walls.

For both Klee and Kandinsky the sensorial potential of colour was its true power

Built by Gropius as part of the Dessau campus, the exteriors were all classic white and grey intellectually-inspired modernism, but inside had become a kaleidoscopic riot. Kandinsky’s living room is documented as having been yellow, pink and gold leaf; the bedroom cyan and the entrance boasting pale violet walls, a black floor, and a staircase in yellow and white with a bright red handrail.

Next door, Klee contrasted red lacquer with plaster pink, baby blue and grey. How exciting it might have been if this experimentation had been more openly discussed and carried forth into the architecture and interiors of the Bauhaus movement itself, rather than being closeted away as personal play.

A degree of salvation then was seen in the appointment of Josef Albers. The son of a painter and decorator he was a working class, church school-educated misfit among the wealth and privilege of the other masters, but it was he who got closest to solving the colour classification conundrum; in that he rejected it.

In his book, Interaction of Colour, published in 1963, he wrote: “In visual perception a colour is almost never seen as it really is – as it physically is. This fact makes colour the most relative medium in art. In order to use colour effectively it is necessary to recognise that colour deceives continually. To this end, the beginning is not a study of colour systems.”

When one thinks of the Bauhaus it is probably only strictly monochromatic visions of its iconic architectural output that come to mind

In place of such systems then he proposed a more inclusive way of working that revolved around context and crucially, he understood that his pursuit was not for a single “solution” but rather a continual, and highly subjective, journey of discovery.

Unfortunately for the students of the Bauhaus, the opportunity to develop his ideas only came once he’d left the school, first at the Black Mountain College in North Carolina where he and wife Anni fled after the Nazis gained control in Germany, and then at Yale, from where he eventually published his seminal tome.

And so it is that when one thinks of the Bauhaus, if not the modern movement as a whole, it is probably only strictly monochromatic visions of its iconic architectural output that come to mind. Certainly there is no doubt that it was a powerful catalyst for stylistic change; however it was driven by an almost exclusively well-to-do male cabal and that came with limitations.

In short, appreciating the role of colour in architecture is one of the great missed opportunities of the Bauhaus. While the school appeared open to discussion about colour, the overriding sentiment was to contain and classify it, then move on, with the implication that colour was incidental, rather than fundamental, to the built environment.

In other words, good for art and theory, but dare I say it, potentially too feminine for the might of architecture. Then again, even Itten acknowledged, “only those who love colour are admitted to its beauty and presence. It affords utility to all, but unveils its deeper mysteries only to its devotees.”

Pause for thought then on how much richer Gropius’s Bauhaus legacy might have been if he’d allowed his artists to truly impact his practice. After all, it’s only when theory is translated into active truth, that ideals really come to life.

Main image shows Johann Wolfgang von Goethe’s colour wheel from 1810.

The post “Appreciating the role of colour in architecture is a great missed opportunity of the Bauhaus” appeared first on Dezeen.

TBA's vet surgery in Montreal includes exposed bricks and concrete

Industrial finishes “resistant to animal wear and tear” are used across this veterinary clinic, which occupies the ground and basement floors of an extended building in Montreal.

Thomas Balaban Architect (TBA) completed the renovation and extension of a two-storey photography studio, turning it into a four-storey structure that houses four apartments and the Hôpital Vétérinaire du Parc.

Veterinary Clinic by TBAVeterinary Clinic by TBA

Serving animals of the Canadian city’s Mile End neighbourhood, the vets includes state-of-the-art treatment facilities and an SPCA emergency clinic.

Its interior combines exposed brickwork and concrete surfaces with minimal furniture and equipment, resulting in an aesthetic less typical for a medical practice.

Veterinary Clinic by TBAVeterinary Clinic by TBA

The hardwearing materials were chosen for their practicality and connection to the surrounding architecture, according to TBA.

“Stone foundations, concrete wainscoting and ceramic tiling protect the lower part of the walls required to be resistant to animal wear and tear,” said a project description from the local studio.

Veterinary Clinic by TBAVeterinary Clinic by TBA

In the reception area, patients and their owners are greeted at a sculptural turquoise counter.

A large rectangular hole in the middle of the floor is fitted with a glass panel, allowing light into the basement space and views up from below.

Veterinary Clinic by TBAVeterinary Clinic by TBA

Across the ceiling, milky polycarbonate panels hide mechanical systems and blur diagonal strips of lighting.

Towards the back of the building are a series of examination rooms along one side, and a store, pharmacy and more facilities on the other.

“Technical spaces are efficiently organised around a central circulation spine, allowing for a spacious reception where animals and owners alike can circulate freely,” said TBA.

Veterinary Clinic by TBAVeterinary Clinic by TBA

The basement level accommodates areas for grooming, treatments and surgery, as well as spaces for keeping animals overnight. The two levels are connected by staircases at either end of the long, narrow plan.

Veterinary Clinic by TBAVeterinary Clinic by TBA

“The dilapidated storefront space and dark basement are brought to life with a calming minimal palette juxtaposed against existing raw surfaces and generous glazed partitions,” TBA said.

The remainder of the building, constructed using a steel frame behind and on top of the original studio, holds four residential units across three floors.

Veterinary Clinic by TBAVeterinary Clinic by TBA

Two apartments laid out across the level directly above the veterinary clinic, and another pair are split across the top two storeys. The front unit of these duplexes enjoys a terrace with views to Mount Royal.

A courtyard in the middle divides the residences vertically, providing circulation space, and more light and ventilation for the deep plans.

Veterinary Clinic by TBAVeterinary Clinic by TBA

The exterior of the “restrained and monochromatic” building is clad is local limestone, with window and door frames in aluminium.

Floor-to-ceiling glass fronts the vets – one of several atypical medical facilities for animals around the world. Other examples include a combined surgery and apartment in Japan, a concrete equine practice in Austria and a timber-clad cat clinic in the UK.

Photography is by Adrien Williams unless stated otherwise.

Project credits:

Architect: Thomas Balaban Architect (TBA)
Project team: Jennifer Thorogood, Julia Manaças, Mikaèle Fol
Contractor: Habitations Renaud
Windows and doors: Alumico
Interior design: TBA, Jean-Marc Renaud
Kitchens: Cuisines Steam
Lighting: D’Armes
Clinic mural: Cecile Gariepy
Exterior mural: A Mano

The post TBA’s vet surgery in Montreal includes exposed bricks and concrete appeared first on Dezeen.

Latest Dezeen Weekly features Biomega's first electric car

The latest edition of our newsletter Dezeen Weekly features Biomega’s first electric car, and Ole Scheeren’s MahaNakhon skyscraper. Subscribe to Dezeen Weekly ›

The post Latest Dezeen Weekly features Biomega’s first electric car appeared first on Dezeen.

An Exhibition Devoted to Urban Cycling

Le Design Museum de Chicago organise une exposition de dessins autour de la pratique du vélo en milieu urbain. Après la montée croissante du sport urbain, visible dans les spots télévisés diffusés par les marques de sport, l’enjeu de la reconversion des villes en terrain de jeu sportif semble au coeur des préoccupations artistiques de notre décennie. Avec humour, les dessinateurs conviés pour l’exposition explorent les expériences quotidiennes des utilisateurs de vélo: vols, vitesse, customisation, multiples passagers, looks, attitudes diverses. Les styles des dessinateurs sont multiples, et en appellent tant à l’art abstrait qu’au dessin de presse.

The Rider by Vance Lump

Small Revolutions by Lydia Fu

Let’s Ride by Fran Labuschagne

Keep Moving by Moniker

Joy-Ride by Arna Miller

Life on Wheels by Alex Senna







Design-driven Building Sticks for the Curious and Aesthetically-inclined

Lego blocks build your curiosity. The TiKA builds curiosity as well as a sense of aesthetics. The TiKA modular design kit is a seriously fun kit that helps you exercise your sense of structure, geometry, and aesthetics. Comprising a base, magnetic balls, and sticks that attach to these magnetic balls/joints, the TiKA is just the sort of toy anyone between the ages 12 to 112 could use.

Tika allows you to build and test structures, make abstract skeletal frameworks, create trellises for plants, and even create abstract LED lighting! The metal balls act as joints, while the TiKA’s sticks come with a neodymium magnet insert running through and through. This enables the TiKA to conduct electricity, and introduce TiKA’s LED rod to the mix and the abstract structure turns into abstract lighting at an instant!

The TiKA comes in a variety of formats. A regular structure-building kit, a planter building kit, and a lamp building kit. These kits are optimized for both floor-standing and hanging variants, letting you create pretty much anything you choose. Building your TiKA structure starts with its base, to which you add the metal balls. You can then start snapping the magnet/wood sticks to these balls (the sticks make a tik sound as they snap, giving the product its name, TiKA), adding as many sticks as you want, testing the structure’s integrity, and adding more ball joints anywhere you see fit.

The TiKA sticks are designed to last a lifetime. Each stick is made from beech wood, and comes with powerful neodymium magnets. The bases differ from variant to variant. The regular kit provides you with a regular wood base, while the lamp-making kit comes with a wired base that even includes its own dimmer-switch, allowing you to set the mood by building your own lamp and then adjusting the intensity of the light accordingly.

Ultimately, the TiKA tests and fosters two things. Your ability to create stable structures, and your skill to create unique, visually alluring designs. The possibilities are practically endless with the TiKA, and you can optimize and change the design whenever your mood changes, or as your plant grows, if you’ve opted for the Planter-kit. They’re also a great way to build geometric structures, creating and testing out skeletal forms like buckminsterfullerenes, or just building anything your heart desires! The TiKA is more than just a toy or a planter, or a lamp. It’s one of the greatest visual tools to foster creativity and an eye for aesthetics!

Designers: Florin Cobuz & Adrian Enache

Click here to Buy Now: $124 $165 (25% off). Hurry, less than 72 hours left!

tika_modular_design_kit_layout

TiKA is a modular creation kit suited to build an unlimited number of amazing structures, such as lamps, holders for your plants or just jaw-dropping design objects for your apartment, office or anything in between.

tika_modular_design_kit_01

TiKA’s modular system opens a world of possibilities through its five different sized wooden building sticks and small magnetic metal balls that act as connectors with flexible joints. You can also choose from 3 different, but connectable, bases to build upon.

With TiKA, the possibilities are endless when it comes to what you can create. Just look at some of these awesome designs below:

tika_modular_design_kit_05

tika_modular_design_kit_06

tika_modular_design_kit_07

tika_modular_design_kit_08

tika_modular_design_kit_02

How Does TiKA Work?

TiKA’s modular system opens a world of possibilities through its 5 different sized sticks, metal balls that act as connectors and flexible joints, along with 3 different bases to build upon.

tika_modular_design_kit_04

How to Build with TiKa

1. Start with the base.
2. Begin to simply connect the TiKA sticks with the metal balls to build mesh-like structures.
3. Display your creations around your home!

tika_modular_design_kit_03

Click here to Buy Now: $124 $165 (25% off). Hurry, less than 72 hours left!

A Bike Invention from Norway: Zip-On, Zip-Off Tire Treads

“What happens when a bunch of creative (and somewhat lazy) engineers get together to solve the pain of tire changes?” writes Norway-based bike accessories outfit reTyre. “They add zippers, file for a patent and remove the need for tire changes completely.”

We’ll place this in the category of Design Ideas Cooked Up at a Bar, but it looks like they’ve got this kooky concept working:

“We have rigorously tested and improved the reTyre System all around the world,” the company writes. “Over the past year, more than 4,500 units of the alpha version have been sold and tested.”

I had wondered about how the ends attach to each other, as it’s not shown in the video. Interestingly, it appears that they’re joined by a sort of “tongue,” the way Hot Wheels tracks go together (or at least used to when I was a kid):

Judging by their retailer map, there’s no place in Norway where you can’t buy reTyres, though neighboring Denmark and Sweden appear to have gotten the retail shaft.

Much of northern Europe appears to have at least one retailer per country.

Following a successful Kickstarter campaign based out of Delaware, reTyres will be coming to America in 2019. Now if only they could pull this off for car tires….

Reader Submitted: Marmals

Marmals: Unlimited Creativity. Unlimited Stories.

Marmals are a revolutionary new line of modular vinyl figurines that are designed to be a tactile launchpad for creative play and storytelling.

View the full project here

Applications for an Enormous, Heavy-Lifting Drone That Can Convey Water

I’ve still not found a good solution for clearing my clogged gutters, and I think someone should invent a gutter-cleaning drone. To my knowledge no one yet has, though a company called Aerones has created massive 10-foot-wide multi-rotor drones to de-ice wind turbines (warning, turn your speakers down):

Because the thing is tethered with both electric and water, it has no limitation on flying time or liquid dispensing, and you can keep it running until the job is done.

Having solved the problem of both payload and power, the company has expanded into a more pedestrian task: Washing windows.

The next logical application might be firefighting, if they could manage the water pressure. If they can’t, I’m hoping they make a lateral move into gutter cleaning.

World's Largest Horn Shatters Glass

For his latest project, former NASA engineer and inventor Mark Rober heads to the desert to test out his enormous glass-shattering horn, then explains why horns are shaped the way they are…(Read…)

"Appreciating the role of colour in architecture is a great missed opportunity of the Bauhaus"

It’s a shame that, although colour theory was taught at the Bauhaus, it was considered too feminine for architecture, says Michelle Ogundehin in this Opinion as part of our Bauhaus 100 series.


The Bauhaus employed four artists whose theories on the use of colour underpin everything we think of as contemporary colour theory. So why, despite this enduring influence, did they have so little impact on the architectural output of the day?

At its simplest, theorising about colour can be broken down into three core lines of enquiry: how should colours be ordered, which ones work best together, and how might they most “correctly” be employed.

And while Walter Gropius, founder of the Bauhaus, was renowned for his personal disdain for the use of colour in his buildings, it’s testament to his desire for debate that colour theory was taught as part of a mandatory foundation unit at the school. However, it’s notable that he invited artists to do this, not architects.

As such, the course was led initially by the Swiss expressionist Johannes Itten, followed by Paul Klee, Wassily Kandinsky and finally Josef Albers; each adding their own unique twist to the quest to decipher colour.

It’s testament to Gropius’ desire for debate that colour theory was taught as part of a mandatory foundation unit

Originally trained as a primary school teacher, Itten, driven by a desire to impose a logical structure upon the spectrum, had a very methodical way of working. Although he wasn’t the first to come up with a colour wheel – that honour is said to fall to Sir Isaac Newton in 1666, and certainly many after Newton did the same – the sophistication of his approach distinguishes him, and ensures many of his ideas remain relevant today.

For although he arranged colour in the traditional format of primary, secondary and tertiary colours, he further refined his wheel with theories of seven possible modes of contrast between the shades. As he put it, “he who wants to become a master of colour must see, feel, and experience each individual colour in its many endless combinations with all other colours. Colours must have a mystical capacity for spiritual expression, without being tied to objects.”

Thus, notwithstanding his rigorously analytical thinking, he also highlighted the less tangible, psychological affects of colour and was one of the first to associate different hues with varied personality types, as well as the idea of warm versus cool colours. In this way, much current seasonal colour analysis, particularly as used by the cosmetics industry, owes a debt to the teacher turned painter.

Post Itten, Kandinsky, a Russian pioneer of abstract modern art, taught at the school until it closed in 1933. He encouraged his students along a more freewheeling and emotive path. For him, colour had profoundly spiritual connotations and he believed it could only be interpreted as a kind of musical score with certain colours expressed as specific notes (for example yellow was a middle C).

And yet, in a move that I find contradictory to his musical analogies, he also assigned to colours geometric shapes; thus yellow was also best represented as a triangle; blue by a circle, and red always as a square.

But the direct application of Kandinsky’s theorising to architecture was negligible

Regardless, the very confluence of these seemingly opposing paradigms resulted in the paintings which made him famous, and arguably inspired many great artists that followed from Mark Rothko and Jackson Pollock to Julian Schnabel. But the direct application of Kandinsky’s theorising to architecture, or even design, was somewhat more negligible.

His teaching at the Bauhaus overlapped with that of the Swiss painter and printmaker Paul Klee, very much a comrade in arms. He supported Kandinsky’s ideas of colour harmony and its relation to music, and also passionately advocated its disassociation from a purely naturalistic, representative role in art. For both Klee and Kandinsky, the sensorial potential of colour was its true power, whether neatly categorised or not.

Disappointingly though, it seemed it was only within the privacy of their own homes that either felt able to take their colour concepts off the canvas and into their surroundings. The pair lived in adjacent semi-detached houses for six years, and when renovation work was carried out on the properties in the early 1990s, reports revealed some seven-different layers of paint and over 200 shades applied to the walls.

For both Klee and Kandinsky the sensorial potential of colour was its true power

Built by Gropius as part of the Dessau campus, the exteriors were all classic white and grey intellectually-inspired modernism, but inside had become a kaleidoscopic riot. Kandinsky’s living room is documented as having been yellow, pink and gold leaf; the bedroom cyan and the entrance boasting pale violet walls, a black floor, and a staircase in yellow and white with a bright red handrail.

Next door, Klee contrasted red lacquer with plaster pink, baby blue and grey. How exciting it might have been if this experimentation had been more openly discussed and carried forth into the architecture and interiors of the Bauhaus movement itself, rather than being closeted away as personal play.

A degree of salvation then was seen in the appointment of Josef Albers. The son of a painter and decorator he was a working class, church school-educated misfit among the wealth and privilege of the other masters, but it was he who got closest to solving the colour classification conundrum; in that he rejected it.

In his book, Interaction of Colour, published in 1963, he wrote: “In visual perception a colour is almost never seen as it really is – as it physically is. This fact makes colour the most relative medium in art. In order to use colour effectively it is necessary to recognise that colour deceives continually. To this end, the beginning is not a study of colour systems.”

When one thinks of the Bauhaus it is probably only strictly monochromatic visions of its iconic architectural output that come to mind

In place of such systems then he proposed a more inclusive way of working that revolved around context and crucially, he understood that his pursuit was not for a single “solution” but rather a continual, and highly subjective, journey of discovery.

Unfortunately for the students of the Bauhaus, the opportunity to develop his ideas only came once he’d left the school, first at the Black Mountain College in North Carolina where he and wife Anni fled after the Nazis gained control in Germany, and then at Yale, from where he eventually published his seminal tome.

And so it is that when one thinks of the Bauhaus, if not the modern movement as a whole, it is probably only strictly monochromatic visions of its iconic architectural output that come to mind. Certainly there is no doubt that it was a powerful catalyst for stylistic change; however it was driven by an almost exclusively well-to-do male cabal and that came with limitations.

In short, appreciating the role of colour in architecture is one of the great missed opportunities of the Bauhaus. While the school appeared open to discussion about colour, the overriding sentiment was to contain and classify it, then move on, with the implication that colour was incidental, rather than fundamental, to the built environment.

In other words, good for art and theory, but dare I say it, potentially too feminine for the might of architecture. Then again, even Itten acknowledged, “only those who love colour are admitted to its beauty and presence. It affords utility to all, but unveils its deeper mysteries only to its devotees.”

Pause for thought then on how much richer Gropius’s Bauhaus legacy might have been if he’d allowed his artists to truly impact his practice. After all, it’s only when theory is translated into active truth, that ideals really come to life.

Main image shows Johann Wolfgang von Goethe’s colour wheel from 1810.

The post “Appreciating the role of colour in architecture is a great missed opportunity of the Bauhaus” appeared first on Dezeen.