Bohumil Markalous: The Social-Ethical Mission of the Architect

The work of Kotěra has not yet been scientifically analyzed, compared, or classified within contemporary world architecture.
There were preceding or simultaneous efforts and principles applied by the founders and pioneers of modern architecture, including Wagner, Kotěra's teacher, H. P. Berlage with the Amsterdam stock exchange from 1897, Messel with the Wertheim House in Berlin from 1989, A. and G. Perret with the first extensive use of reinforced concrete in the construction of the St. Malo casino in 1900, F. L. Wright, who disrupted the stagnant layout of the house to create a new, strictly functional form, evolving from 1893 (Winslow-Eiwer-Forest), through Heller-Chicago (1896) to the definitive Coonley Riverside type (1908), and Adolf Loos with the design of the theater (1896), Café-Museum 1898, and the first villa in Hietzing.
Modern architecture, at the beginning of Kotěra's independent activities, definitively relinquishes historical styles and, considering all aspects of the building's function, emerges from a geometric scheme; it then leaves the form, the main effort of the previous period, free to shape from the given, refined premises and requirements of the building material. It was about merging the well-known Schinkel duality of purpose and form into a unity cemented by logical function. The science of architecture, which was previously a one-sided morphology, thus becomes the physiology of architecture.
All independently working leading figures of the time strive to understand human needs, both material and psychological, down to the most minute details, and create a new system of constructive strategy based on this knowledge. This is the military aspect of the modern direction, the engineering, non-artistic, i.e., non-painterly, non-sculptural character of new architectures. This strictness, formal sobriety, and unpretentious modesty revolutionary separate them from the theatrical pathos of the previous era. This sincerity is of a kind that has allowed many of these buildings to survive three whole decades without losing anything of their utility or formal value.
Kotěra stated that the struggle for truth is the same as the fight for the application of a contemporary viewpoint. Indeed, the extensive life's work, exhibited in the Municipal House, has shown us how much contemporaneity it retained, detailing Kotěra's personal contemporary viewpoint. Through Wagner's motto, expressed in the article "On New Art," where we read about emphasizing purpose, construction, location, with a stated declaration that form is the result of these three factors, one can follow step by step how extraordinarily difficult it was to establish the uncompromising application of the principles of today's modern architecture in our, or rather Austrian, circumstances—a brutal birthing process that began with teacher Wagner, whether we recall his residential building on Wienzeile or the postal savings bank with its atrium.
We have seen how, in Kotěra's work, an academic, formalist artistic intent still wrestled with merely utilitarian solutions, how materials excessively exaggerated the function of load-bearing parts, how it unnecessarily ornamented, subdivided, diversified the facade and delineated space with additional decorative elements in an effort to alleviate the heaviness of materials, fearing an empty surface that had, at that time, to be divided; how it slowly progressed towards its contemporary expression in the treatment of the facade, showing ever more modest places for ledges, profiling, and other Renaissance and Baroque remnants; how it consistently chose, but always in larger scale, to leave the smooth, unadorned wall on the outside before daring to separate and diversify the interior spaces with accessory additions.
We have seen how, from new solutions, modern plans arise that create a distinctly Kotěra asymmetry of building elements, from a formal, aesthetic perspective then a new, more complex rhythm, similar to Wright's more consistent approach.
Thus, Kotěra initiates an unprecedented relaxation, adaptation, and creation of plans with a new dimensioning of space on domestic soil. His almost non-front facade villa from 1908-1909 is an ideal assembly of interior spaces, constructed according to the imperative will of internal disposition, fortunate in proportion, and exemplarily set in a natural context.
The work is, of course, fragmented into an extraordinary number of diverse building types, and its great artistic variability cannot be attributed solely to the variety of architectural commands, but also has its roots in the uncertainties of the seeker of new paths... His mild, cautiously prudent variations appear to us in a sympathetic light compared to those of Van de Velde, Behrens, or especially Perret (still in the theater Theâtre des Champs-Elysée). We find explanations for these variations in Kotěra's applied arts activities, in the effort of the time, which cared about so-called artistic elaboration even in interiors to the extreme, a direction particularly practiced by the so-called post-Wagner, Viennese architects to the fullest extent.
In 1907, the magazine Styl was founded, originally to be named Perspektivy as proposed by Gočár—but it remained Styl. That word itself signifies much. It represented the effort for a modern style, i.e., one corresponding to the time, unified, based on analogy, just like historical styles. Thus, the name already indicated the goal, one that is today thought of little, which is simply nothing to us—an endeavor for style as style.
However, the magazine Styl was explicitly founded to fight against the general opinion and taste of the official public, against schools and institutions, by a small handful of artists and their literary collaborators. We fundamentally oppose many of the deliberations that were published there and which still hold true. Architecture is not "the creation of form in matter by feeling," architecture does not arise from "the emotional relationship to matter and spiritual motivations," and finally, architecture is not "separated from construction and buildability" as two processes, in contrast to architecture of an entirely different nature, i.e., rational, utilitarian use of matter. But the Society, of which Styl is an organ, included Jan Kotěra. Personally close, creating alongside. The secondary question of "modern style" was addressed by Kotěra freely and in agreement with today's leading European architects, without mistaking the concept of style for that of decor and thus, without considering the contribution of Viennese decorative elements, as seen in his residential building on Wenceslas Square from 1899, in Ohmann's style and later themes of folk decor, as he did not avoid this infection after the ethnographic exhibition of 1895. These today foreign contemporary elements remained subordinate to Kotěra's distinctly precise, clear dispositions and forms. Let us thus consider the early or later more decorative works of Kotěra, grosso modo: the Prostějov House, Hradec Grand Hotel and Museum, University, and we will assure ourselves that he never subordinated the material execution of his buildings to sentiment or imagination, that he did not create a "plastic body," but a spatially geometric structure enhanced by decor and that at least he made the plan an artistic idea, a genius improvisation, a notion to which everything else would have been sacrificed.
This harmony of all components in the architect's internal potency will create a high value of his legacy.
Art, artistic quality in the architect's work is a concept so vague and to such an extent truly ungraspable in meaning that it is better to avoid this word. However, with the work of the architect-creator, springing from his intellectual capabilities and highly cultivated, practically viable taste and experiences, the drama of the work is undoubtedly heightened. Not, however, the drama of "plastic form," nor "dramatic-symbolic expression of functions." The new drama of modern architecture is significantly mute, its uncomplicated nature akin to a framework of elemental needs and the fulfillment of basic conditions for living in simplicity and purity almost evangelical.
Art certainly deserves the utmost freedom, the most passionate, yet the most ascetic gesture.
Architecture deserves calm proportions, true measure, formal restraint, decency, and the highest degree of refined taste.
Instead of most fruitfully multiplying Kotěra's talents after the upheaval, we resorted to the applied arts, which foolishly believed would create an instantly original Czechoslovak architecture when applied to architecture. Kotěra may have seemed international, too sober, too factual in the early, so-called ethnographic-dressed years of Czechoslovak independence. Thus, we have had since the upheaval a number of artistic buildings, in which, despite all their interest, nothing from the fundamental requirements of good architectural work as enduring values is present. Neither measures, nor proportions of means, decency, and completely no taste. They intrude heavily with the sculptures of art.
Specifically, Kotěra's logical thinking simply could not create architectural forms with a concealed structure, masses shaped like fingers, decoratively fused bodies with squinting windows modeled after Indian pagodas, fragmented, many times cut, carved, woven as with basketry, or glued with tragant’s surface, overlapping, obstructing, a restless multitude of small parts, and despite the intended, fluttering mobility: a passive contentment with itself, provocative.
It is known that in the Balkans and the East, the decorative splendor of palaces sharply contrasts with the tragic poverty, social and hygienic backwardness of the population. Also, here, the low level of housing for nearly the entire population of the state contrasts with the post-revolutionary architectural fashion. In a small nation, there will always be a greater inclination towards poetry than towards patient, ineffective, practical activity in the field of socially urgent needs. We also see that all our educational institutions consistently direct students primarily towards so-called "noble" tasks, work of so-called artistic merit, above all our conceivable conditions; these are remnants of the historical-pathetic conception of architecture, echoes of feudal church, antisocial conditions, top-down pedagogy, which, despite all revolutionary upheavals, has really not changed in architecture for centuries. In our vocational schools, the craft apprentices are learning forms of furniture parody that contradict all healthy sense, which are not meant at all for normal living, just for the problematic pride of aspiring school leadership, the producer, and for exhibitions. Our grand furniture exhibitions are rightly characterized at the Paris exhibition, in comparison with other countries, as interiors of "small dwellings." Political childhood does not excuse the mistakes of the fantastic activities of our architects and professors of vocational schools, which, with the direct support of officials, result in artistic curiosities and grotesquely pathetic expansions of undisciplined creative power.
Romantic-ideological architecture, with a pronounced patriotic, religious, or purely personal super-purpose, can indeed be found equally in late antiquity, late Gothic, Baroque, or modern times: Pölzig, Gösch, Luckhardt, Finsterlin, Janák. These architects of spirituality, who—though they had the most pragmatic tasks imaginable—fully deserve the title of artists, consider architecture primarily as a matter of feeling and bestow upon their buildings the expression of "national pride," "pride of liberation," or "fulfillment to God Himself": monumental architecture meant to retain the mark of eternity, to quote Christopher Wren. It is paradoxical that in a small, underdeveloped nation, architectural idolatry prevails over architecture of strictly factual considerations, exceeding purpose and reality.
The post-revolutionary era, characterized by a morally and materially costly experiment, an attempt at national, decoratively distinctive architecture and interior, is hopefully coming to an end; artistic bravado, strong original acts in architecture, where millions worth buildings were treated like stage decorations, easily repainted if they go out of fashion, has been brought to a close.
Kotěra was incapable of such strong, just acts. His extensive erudition and outlook, his high social and artistic culture prevented him from doing so. Kotěra's architecture does not stem from artistry, from this recklessly selfish, vain source. Kotěra was not capable of artistic individuality resisting society, against solidarity, whose first command is: submission.
The lack of artistic character in our architecture can only be explained by the low building and housing culture in a country where from the earliest times there are only a few remnants of Romanesque structures, leftovers, fragments, and a handful of crude rotundas, from Gothic, the most elegant style of the present time, examples of not exactly premier levels, and thus only Baroque with Kilián Ignác Dienzenhofer remains. And from the impacts, there were more than one hundred years of architects worthy of their name. In the Empire, the diluted versions of Berlin, Munich, and Vienna are built, and if anything more valuable is created in noble or ecclesiastical buildings, it is a rare work of a German, French or English architect. The history of genuine Czech architecture of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries records merely five names: Ullmann, Barvitius, Zítek, Wiehl, and Kotěra.
With Kotěra ends the historicism of the nineteenth century and a new era of modern architecture begins. It was his fate to operate at the turning of the two centuries, and moreover, his activity was disrupted by war. Nevertheless, through all his activity, he belongs to those who prepared the future amidst the oppressive, unimaginably difficult pre-war conditions. Kotěra settled accounts with the entire chaotic past of the second half of the nineteenth century and laid reliable foundations for our current development.
The future of Czechoslovak architecture? That is no longer a question of just German-Central European, but of world erudition, social sentiment, character, and morality with a whole ten commandments of imperative responsibilities.
There is an end to confusions! There can no longer be uncertainties regarding the true influence of the modern Czech architect, under changed social orders, in our own state, in which millions urgently need the ingenuity and resourcefulness of the architect.
To their call, our architectonic church has so far been confidently genius, artistically orthodox deaf.
The time does not require artists, but architects.
Because architecture is commonality, public itself. Because the architect's activity is a service of significantly social utility.
Thus, it should serve without artistic pretensions and grand illusions. Serve the organism that is the state. Not to artistically disrupt, provoke, but to organize, thoughtfully and systematically support the growth of material and spiritual sympathies, which alone can create a unified community, a higher general and national level, and a new, stronger solidarity.
Our architecture has not been on this path so far. There has not been much social feeling, community discipline, firm organizational will, and elaborate methods among our architects with which to practically tackle the great tasks of the time and the special needs of our state. This universality requires that our architects place reality above mere pictorial possibilities, reality above the creations of dreams, good, generally beneficial actions above the artistic thought of formally overcoming all that has been created so far.
From this perspective, Kotěra is the awakener and preparer of our more socially balanced future. A builder in the noblest sense.
His work will forever remain a school of intransgressible measure, taste, and considerate tact. A school of architecture as a creative act of society.