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How can Daniel Libeskind’s Jewish Museum be understood in relation to deconstructivism, in                                             order to comprehend the architectural design intention.

by Nancy Beka

The Jewish Museum Berlin is dedicated to representing the oppression of Jews in Germany, in addition to their history within Berlin. It was designed by Daniel Libeskind, and built some twelve years later in 2001. These devastating and traumatic events in history create an opportunity for an evocative representation to be made. Libeskind is therefore concerned with creating an experiential museum, devoted to the Jewish history and culture through the means of deconstructivism. He achieves this through the application of different philosophical techniques to his design process, in addition to focussing on the occupants experience in his building. In doing so, the architecture demands a juxtaposition of time. Libeskind, a deconstructivist himself, is therefore further investigating these philosophical theories. Following philosopher Jacques Derrida’s metaphysical theories, Libeskind too finds himself creating a building, which is constantly in the state of ‘becoming’ rather than ‘being’. Libeskind also resonates with Peter Eisenman’s theory, in regards to presence being a representation of absence. Throughout this essay further analysis of how these terms have been explored within the Jewish museum will be investigated. Texts such as Amy Sodaro’s paper Memory, History and Nostalgia in Berlin’s Jewish Museum and Robert Mugerauer’s text Derrida and Beyond will provide an argument about the deconstructivism. The paper will consequently provide the reader with an opportunity to further investigate the architect’s intentions, regarding both his internal and external design. Furthermore, how these strategies aid in the experience and emotive properties will be discussed. This will be explored through the analysis of the building’s spatial arrangement, which has been purposefully done to make the occupant feel the gravity of the historical events. Finally, a discussion surrounding the analysis of the Jewish Museum and deconstructivist views, in addition to how Libeskind applied will conclude the essay.

I'It is undeniable to not acknowledge the sheer tragedy of World War II, and particularly, its direct impact on the Jewish population. The Jewish community tragically saw a Holocaust where it is estimated some three million people were killed. The absence of the Jewish community in Germany, Berlin in particular, consequently became the core instigator for a museum to be built in their memorial. This paper will explore how the architect, Daniel Libeskind designed the Jewish Museum Berlin and what influenced his design motives. Objectives of discussion within this paper include whether Daniel Libeskind’s design is a deconstructivist building and how it properly functions as one. It will describe how Libeskind identifies himself as a deconstructivist, and his philosophical beliefs. In particular, his challenging of the normalities of a museum and therefore, building a museum which heavily relies on the passive involvement of the visitor will be discussed. This argument will be supported by Amy Sodaro’s paper Memory, History and Nostalgia in Berlin’s Jewish Museum. The deconstructivist philosophies which inspired Libeskind have been documented in two articles, Robert Mugerauer’s text Derrida and Beyond and John Macarthur’s Experiencing Absence: Eisenman and Derrida, Benjamin and Schwitters. These will be frequently referred to throughout the essay. In particular, French philosopher Jacques Derrida’s beliefs surrounding metaphysics and how one is never a ‘being’, but ‘becoming’, as well as Peter Eisenman’s philosophies about absence and presence will also be incorporated. The philosophical deconstructivist views will be argued and supported by facts concerning Libeskind’s Jewish Museum. An in-depth analysis surrounding all of these factors will educate the reader on Libeskind’s architectural purpose, which ultimately is to evoke emotion within the individual whilst visiting his building.

Project and Architect Synopsis

Following World War II Holocaust, it was internationally recognised as imperative for Germany, and its capital in particular, to recognise the atrocities of Jewish history that occurred in Berlin. In doing so, this project aimed to acknowledge the role of the Jewish community within Berlin’s culture, and to depict the emotional trauma that the Jewish absence had on this city.[1] Libeskind, whom was born into a Polish Jewish family who survived the Holocaust, won the competition for the Jewish Museum in 1989.[2] Libeskind, an architect, had not built any buildings at the time, as he was more interested in the philosophy surrounding architecture. He particularly was invested in deconstructivist ideals. The significance of the events that took place, would aid Libeskind in conveying the emotional trauma he felt through his family’s lived experience. His drawings were described as ‘a daunting maze of lines broken and reconnected, interpenetrations, self-enclosed wedges, superimposed overlaps.’[3] Consequently, it becomes apparent to the visitor that this is much more than just a physical building. Rather, the museum depicts a haunting representation of the traumatic, historical events and therefore, the affect it has on the visitor is much more grave.

 

 

 

 

 

Design Influences

Libeskind dedicated himself to the spatial organisation of a project, which was much more than just architecture. However, he explored much deeper into the philosophical matters surrounding the intent of this building.[4] Libeskind achieved through designing a museum that was not only oriented toward the past, but also to the present and the future.’[5] Libeskind refers to The Jewish Museum’s origin as a ‘creative nothingness’[6] and asks the reader to extract something of this. When describing the inspiration behind the project, he states that he cannot recall ‘how “nothing” started’. However, he can identify three key elements that interested him. These three elements include the architectonic dimension, musical dimension and textual dimension. The architectonic dimension was the nexus of line, which he plotted on the Berlin map after researching the key influential people who helped form the culture of the city. The musical dimension is the unfinished act III of Schönberg’s opera, which Libeskind reveals was written in Berlin, however Schönberg could not bring himself to finish. The last, being the textual dimension was a book that contained all the names of the Jewish people who had been deported from Berlin.[7] Integration of these key elements enabled Libeskind to begin planning a design for the museum.

 

 

 

 

 

Building Layout Description

Libeskind thought systematically about the building design and tried to contextualize it with the history of the Jews involved in the Holocaust. In his words, ‘after the tragic and disastrous consequences of the holocaust and its impact on modernity, everyone is also a survivor. Everyone who witnessed these ultimate events is also a survivor, so one cannot die the death of an offering anymore.’[8]  This cultural tone consequently inspired him to create something to be culturally experienced by the victims of these events.

 

 

The Jewish Museum is located in Berlin, situated in the city centre adjacent to the Berlin Museum. The two buildings are of very different styles, the Berlin Museum being that of Baroque and the Jewish Museum being deconstructivist. This strong contrast therefore leads to the underground connection of the two buildings. Libeskind describes this as a design tactic to ‘preserve the contradictory autonomy of the buildings on the surface, while binding them even more in depth.’[9] He exemplifies the fact that the paradox between the two styles of architecture therefore assumes consistency. The Jewish Museum has been clad with zinc, which will age as time progresses to represent the constant state of becoming.[10] Furthermore, the museum lies in a shape of lightning bolt, which can only be viewed from above. It also has thin slits for windows cladding the façade, representing the lacerations the Jewish people have endured.

 

In order to gain access to the Jewish Museum, one must enter the Berlin Museum and proceed through the Great Void, which is a structural element that has been intentionally used to represent Berlin and its Jewish community.

The Great Void leads the visitor to the Paths of German Jews, which are three axes known as the Axis of Continuity, the Axis of Emigration and the Axis of Holocaust. These three axes also focus on taking the visitor on a journey through; compression, embrace and release, to symbolise the journey the victims would have undertaken.[11] As shown in Figure 1, Libeskind has manipulated the design by only allowing two axes to be viewed at a time by the visitor, to disorientate them at all times of their whereabouts.[12]

Figure 1

The Axis of Continuity represents the continuity of Jewish culture within Germany and leads to the main exhibition via the main staircase. The Axis of Emigration, depicted in Figure 2 leads the visitor through a heavy door, to the external Garden of Exile, which is only accessible through this axis. In the Garden of Exile, the visitor is exposed to very little sunlight, as there are 49 concrete columns, each 7 metres high. In addition, Libeskind has filled the columns with earth and planted Russian willow oak trees within. These trees signify hope and are a tribute to the Jewish people lost both metaphorically and physically during the Holocaust. The ground plain has been set on a 12 degree angle to create a claustrophobic and disorientating experience. The Axis of the Holocaust is lined in display cases full of artefacts from the Jewish people, however this leads to a dead end. Once the visitor reaches this dead end, they realise that there is a thin slit of light coming from above, slicing through the dim, cold, quiet space. This light is coming from the Holocaust Tower, another void employed in Libeskind’s design, to represent the story of a Jewish survivor. Libeskind incorporates five voids, which will be later discussed as a technique to emphasise the absence of the Jewish people in Berlin.

Figure 2

Deconstructionist Views

Deconstruction refers to the confrontation of harmony, stability and unity. Therefore, this concept challenges the structure of a building’s spatial property.[13] Deconstructivists focus on deconstructing ‘naïve’ hypotheses about realities and buildings, posing arguments regarding the metaphysics of one.[14] The core theory, which will be discussed, is that of metaphysics. Simply put, ‘metaphysics is the philosophy focusing on the nature of being and that we are in the constant state of becoming.’[15] Philosophers such as Jacques Derrida and Peter Eisenman helped shape the deconstructivism theorems, as well as influence Libeskind’s design tactics. Therefore, these philosophers are an important key when referring to the Jewish Museum, as this too has been described as a building that is always ‘becoming’, but not suggestive of a final resolution[16]. Libeskind is actively known to be interested in Derrida’s theories in deconstruction. In particular, arguments such as ‘…meaning is infinitely deferred and that there exists no extra linguistic beginning or end’ resonate well with this concept[17] Additionally, Libeskind has his own philosophies when regarding deconstructivism and refers heavily to absence and presence as well as metaphysics within his work.

 

 

 

 

 

Displacement

The intention behind the Jewish Museum was to create a space in which a representation of the Jewish presence in the German history could be made apparent.[18] Libeskind would integrate his philosophical theories, in particular focusing on terms such as metaphysics and the use of presence and absence within his designs. Firstly, Libeskind would acknowledge the culture surrounding the events that took place. According to Derrida, ‘culture and the built environment form a fundamental binary difference’.[19] Therefore, it is the culture, which makes the demand of the built environment a possibility whilst also being a response to culture. Furthermore, one must understand the built environment as a displacement and as a disruptive positioning of difference. In particular, that of cultural presence and interpret from this a process to deconstructing the relation of culture and buildings.[20] Eisenman also argues that ‘reality is what we reassemble after dissembling the illusion of the beliefs, stories and norms of the traditional past.’[21] This statement reinforces the argument that an event of the past will create an opportunity for culture to be appreciated and reformed in the reality. Libeskind utilises this design motive by using the stories of the traditional past as a tool to haunt the metaphysical space.

 

The important repositioning of displacement is to contrast the relationship between binary terms and challenge the binary pair. In particular, the theory of the ‘signified/signifier’, whereby the signified is prioritised as the objective and inspirational reality, whilst the signifier follows lead and is dependent is utilised. Derrida emphasises that the signified can also be referred to as absent, which is different from the signifier, which is present. Therefore this theory reiterates that the ‘traditionally subservient term becomes the dominant one for interpretation of the other, and différance is momentarily emphasised.’  Derrida refers to the différance as the fundamental pairing of binary definitions. For example, presence and absence or being and beings are suppressed by metaphysics. He highlights that différance is a primitive concept, however it has neither origin nor end and is therefore constantly moving. This subsequently helps support Eisenman’s argument surrounding deconstructive architecture, as an advance through a continuation of dislocations. In doing so, this architecture produces ‘a place that is no place, no object, no shelter and that has no scale, no time.’[22]

 

Libeskind describes his design as a shared product between being and what is the polar opposite of being. He states that it is “not only about space, not only an existential continuum, but also something completely other than text, completely other than construction, completely other than knowledge. It is not only about existence but also about inexistence.”[23] This direct quote from Libeskind allows us to understand that he is not interested in creating something that can be understood as just a physical being, but rather as a displacement of time. Libeskind understands Derrida’s theories about différance and also believes that because time is constantly moving there is no origin or ‘original point of departure’. Therefore, nothing seems to have taken place. Instead of searching for an origin, Libeskind skips beginnings altogether and finds himself in the middle of time, in this case The Jewish Museum. His reasoning for skipping beginnings can be justified by the following statement, ‘one realises that when one is looking at time, time is not playing along, time is not visible so to speak, because one is looking for it.’[24] Libeskind further states that the ‘torn pieces of history never pre-existed as a whole’. Therefore, it is the distance between that historical event and the present, brought about by history, which can only be experienced as an absence or a time that is no longer here.[25] Derrida also conquers when he states that ‘there is no transcendental reality or meaning and thus these privileged dimensions only feign sovereignty.’[26] Libeskind represents this argument, as his museum is acknowledged as a displacement of events that took place and therefore create a metaphysical presence. He even furthers his views by referring to Berlin and explaining that it ‘is not only a physical place, but also something in the mind, something belonging to a past which never was present.’[27]

 

Libeskind critically analyses the social and cultural aspects at hand, as he has been given the intense task of representing the Holocaust and integrating the cultural aspects within his design. Libeskind believed that the Jewish Museum should be experienced and accessed metaphysically to the people of the past, present and future.[28] Metaphysics explores the idea of constantly being in a state of becoming and argues that one will never be in the state of ‘being’, but always in the transit stage of becoming. Deconstructivists believe that architecture similarly follows suit and therefore is never in its final true form, being, but is always becoming. Derrida further argues this point stating that all that is left is interpretation of a place to create experience. This is achievable through maintaining an open interpretation of what is in its physical form and never having an expectation of arriving to something that is in its final state, or its true interpretation.[29] This quintessentially gives significance to the experience of the occupant, as it is up to them to decipher their own interpretation of the metaphysical presence. Consequently, the experience of the occupants was of high importance to Libeskind, as he understood that each person should be able to identify a shared hope, whilst still acknowledging their individual desires.[30] Libeskind’s philosophical theorems are apparent when he stresses that his intentions are to create a space, which is not only an architectural site and therefore, a physical form. But he also wants a spiritual site, something that can only be experienced past the physical dimension.[31] He believes the museum should home ‘the ordered - disordered, the welcome - unwelcome, the chosen – not chosen, the vocal which is silent,’[32] whilst also being a physical home to the conventional museum ideals. The conventional museum ideals include physical cultural artefacts, such as the poetry, music and drama of a society.[33]

 

 

 

 

 

 

Absence and the Voids

MacArthur describes deconstruction in architecture as an experience of absence.[34] Therefore it can be argued that Libeskind, a deconstructivist himself, uses this tactic throughout his design to represent the atrocity surrounding the events of the Holocaust. Absence and void is an architectural expression, when trying to depict a loss or trauma in the physical form.[35]

 

Libeskind refers to the ‘void’ throughout his work, both in the metaphorical and physical sense. In the metaphorical definition, he describes the void as the loss of the Jews through the Holocaust, and how that has consequently removed the Jewish presence in Berlin.[36] He argues that although there is a slight physical presence of the Jewish culture remaining within Berlin, this is considered an evocation of absence rather than that of presence. Thus, leading one to argue that the Libeskind’s design is built solely on the ‘absence of meaning in history, an absence of the people who would have given meaning to their history.’[37] The void, which is referred to by James E Young as the self inflicted void in the centre of Germany, is more apparent when Germans try to formalise it, then literally used in the centre of Libeskind’s design.

 

Consequently, Libeskind’s design is simplified into a metaphorical meaning of the absence of the Jewish presence. In doing so, he places physical voids in the centre of the building and builds a museum around it. However, Libeskind’s design is much more deliberate than that, as he has placed the void in the hands of the occupant and powerfully demands the public to experience it. This reiterates the detail that deconstruction in architecture demands an ‘experience with absence’.[38] Therefore, the design relies heavily on human interaction or absence of the space to give it its importance. Without this human interaction, the building is not ‘becoming’ and therefore loses the deconstructive intentions that Libeskind has purposefully employed. The museum form requires the passive involvement of the visitor in order to be experienced in its full glory.[39] It should also be noted that it is not the building that represents Libeskind’s architecture, but rather the spaces within the building which have been represented through the voids and absence.[40] MacArthur states that it seems to be ‘irresistible to give a significance, even a presence, to absence.’ [41] Consequently, one can argue that Libeskind successfully gives presence to the absence, in this particular instance the Jewish. He does so by fundamentally capturing the Jewish history in Berlin as a focal point, especially after the devastating World War II, which has left a haunting feeling surrounding the Jewish presence and memory. [42]

 

 

 

 

 

 

To summarise, it can be concluded that Libeskind’s Jewish Museum in Berlin successfully uses deconstructivist philosophies to build a museum with an underlying purpose. Libeskind employs Derrida’s philosophy of meaning and creates a building that does not have an origin or beginning. However, this piece of architecture is constantly juxtaposed in the ‘becoming’. He further develops Eisenman’s theories of absence and literally takes the absence of the Jewish community to utilise as the foundation for his museum by building it surrounding literal voids. By employing both of these theories to his design, Libeskind does not only create a museum for one to experience the physical realm of what has been strategically placed, but also creates a metaphysical experience. One in which the visitor is affected by the haunting and traumatic metaphysics of the building, in which they feel empathy and are deeply affected by the historical events that took place. After all, that is what Libeskind wants: for you to feel the presence of the absent, whilst also acknowledging the historical events and cultural impact of this tragedy. However, perhaps most significantly Libeskind wishes for each visitor to acknowledge this is not the final ‘being’ of the building, just the ‘becoming’.

 

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[1] James E Young, Daniel Libeskind’s Jewish Museum in Berlin: The Uncanny Arts of Memorial Architecture, (Indiana: Indiana University Press, 2000), 10

 

[2] Brent Allen Saindon, A Doubled Heterotopia: Shifting Spatial and Visual Symbolism in the Jewish Museum Berlin’s Development, Quarterly Journal of Speech, (United Kingdom: Taylor & Francis Group LTD, 2010), 25

 

[3] James E Young, Daniel Libeskind’s Jewish Museum in Berlin: The Uncanny Arts of Memorial Architecture, (Indiana: Indiana University Press, 2000), 13

 

 

[4] James E Young, Daniel Libeskind’s Jewish Museum in Berlin: The Uncanny Arts of Memorial Architecture, (Indiana: Indiana University Press, 2000), 10

 

[5] Amy Sodaro, Memory, History and Nostalgia in Berlin’s Jewish Museum (New York: Springer Science + Business Media New York, 2013), 85

 

[6] Daniel Libeskind, Between the Lines: Research in Phenomenology 22, (New York: Periodicals Service Company ,1990), 84

 

[7] Daniel Libeskind, Between the Lines: Research in Phenomenology 22, (New York: Periodicals Service Company ,1990), 83-84

 

[8] Daniel Libeskind, Between the Lines: Research in Phenomenology 22, (New York: Periodicals Service Company ,1990), 83

 

[9] Daniel Libeskind, Between the Lines: Research in Phenomenology 22, (New York: Periodicals Service Company ,1990), 86

 

[10] Brent Allen Saindon, A Doubled Heterotopia: Shifting Spatial and Visual Symbolism in the Jewish Museum Berlin’s Development, Quarterly Journal of Speech, (United Kingdom: Taylor & Francis Group LTD, 2010), 33

 

 

[11] Daniel Libeskind, Between the Lines: Research in Phenomenology 22, (New York: Periodicals Service Company ,1990), 80-88

 

[12] James E Young, Daniel Libeskind’s Jewish Museum in Berlin: The Uncanny Arts of Memorial Architecture, (Indiana: Indiana University Press, 2000), 18

 

[13] Philip Johnson and Mark Wigley, Deconstructivist Architecture, (Boston: Little, Brown and Company, 1988), 11

 

[14] Robert Mugerauer, Derrida and Beyond, (New York: Rizzoli, 1988), 184

 

[15] Robert Mugerauer, Derrida and Beyond, (New York: Rizzoli, 1988), 184

 

[16] Andreas Huyssen, The Voids of Berlin, (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1997), 66

 

[17] Mary McLeod, “Architecture and Politics in the Reagan Era: From Post Modernism to Deconstructivism”,(Cambridge: MIT Press, 1989), 44

 

[18] Amy Sodaro, Memory, History and Nostalgia in Berlin’s Jewish Museum (New York: Springer Science + Business Media New York, 2013)

 

[19] Robert Mugerauer, Derrida and Beyond, (New York: Rizzoli, 1988), 189

 

[20] Robert Mugerauer, Derrida and Beyond, (New York: Rizzoli, 1988), 189; Benjamin Andrew, Eisenman and the Housing of Tradition, In Rethinking Architecture: A Reader in Cultural Theory, (New York: Routledge, 1977), 288

 

[21] Robert Mugerauer, Derrida and Beyond, (New York: Rizzoli, 1988), 189

 

[22] Robert Mugerauer, Derrida and Beyond, (New York: Rizzoli, 1988), 189

 

[23] Daniel Libeskind, Between the Lines: Research in Phenomenology 22, (New York: Periodicals Service Company ,1990), 85

 

[24] Daniel Libeskind, Between the Lines: Research in Phenomenology 22, (New York: Periodicals Service Company ,1990), 87

 

[25] Daniel Libeskind, Between the Lines: Research in Phenomenology 22, (New York: Periodicals Service Company ,1990), 88

 

[26] Robert Mugerauer, Derrida and Beyond, (New York: Rizzoli, 1988),

 

[27] Daniel Libeskind, Between the Lines: Research in Phenomenology 22, (New York: Periodicals Service Company ,1990), 82

 

[28] Daniel Libeskind, Between the Lines: Research in Phenomenology 22, (New York: Periodicals Service Company ,1990), 84

 

[29] Robert Mugerauer, Derrida and Beyond, (New York: Rizzoli, 1988),  

 

[30] Daniel Libeskind, Between the Lines: Research in Phenomenology 22, (New York: Periodicals Service Company ,1990), 80-88

 

[31] Daniel Libeskind, Between the Lines: Research in Phenomenology 22, (New York: Periodicals Service Company ,1990), 80-88

 

[32] Daniel Libeskind, Between the Lines: Research in Phenomenology 22, (New York: Periodicals Service Company ,1990), 85

 

[33] Daniel Libeskind, Between the Lines: Research in Phenomenology 22, (New York: Periodicals Service Company ,1990), 80-88

 

[34] John Macarthur, Experiencing Absence: Eisenman and Derrida, Benjamin and Schwitters, (Brisbane: Institute of Modern Art, 1993),

 

[35] Amy Sodaro, Memory, History and Nostalgia in Berlin’s Jewish Museum (New York: Springer Science + Business Media New York, 2013), 78

 

[36] James E Young, Daniel Libeskind’s Jewish Museum in Berlin: The Uncanny Arts of Memorial Architecture, (Indiana: Indiana University Press, 2000), 20

 

[37] James E Young, Daniel Libeskind’s Jewish Museum in Berlin: The Uncanny Arts of Memorial Architecture, (Indiana: Indiana University Press, 2000), 18

 

[38] John Macarthur, Experiencing Absence: Eisenman and Derrida, Benjamin and Schwitters, (Brisbane: Institute of Modern Art, 1993),

 

[39] Brent Allen Saindon, A Doubled Heterotopia: Shifting Spatial and Visual Symbolism in the Jewish Museum Berlin’s Development, Quarterly Journal of Speech, (United Kingdom: Taylor & Francis Group LTD, 2010), 25

 

[40] James E Young, Daniel Libeskind’s Jewish Museum in Berlin: The Uncanny Arts of Memorial Architecture, (Indiana: Indiana University Press, 2000), 11

 

[41] John Macarthur, Experiencing Absence: Eisenman and Derrida, Benjamin and Schwitters, (Brisbane: Institute of Modern Art, 1993),

 

[42] Andreas Huyssen, The Voids of Berlin, (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1997), 66

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