神圣不可侵犯的建筑师

THE UNTOUCHABLE ARCHITECT

 

 

安藤忠雄︱Tadao Ando

今天, 作为一位建筑师，

我仍然感到恐惧。

1941年出生于大阪。1969年以自学出身的建筑师身份设立自己的事务所。曾任教于耶鲁大学、哥伦比亚大学、哈佛大学。1997到2003年间，任东京大学建筑系教授。东京大学荣誉教授。曾获得许多奖项，如普利兹克建筑奖、美国建筑师协会（AIA）金奖、嘉士伯（Carlsberg）建筑奖、英国建筑师皇家学会（RIBA）金奖等。主要作品包括：住吉的长屋（大阪）、淡路梦舞台（兵库）、直岛现代美术馆（直岛）、沃兹堡现代美术馆（美国得克萨斯州）。

 

Born 1941 in Osaka. Self-taught architect. Established his office in 1969. Taught at Yale, Columbia and Harvard University. Professor of Architecture, University of Tokyo, from 1997 to 2003. Professor Emeritus, University of Tokyo. Numerous awards such as Pritzker Architecture Prize, Gold Medal from American Institute of Architects (AIA), Carlsberg Architectural Prize and Royal Gold Medal from Royal Institute of British Architects (RIBA). Major works include Row House in Sumiyoshi, Osaka, Awaji Yumebutai, Naoshima Contemporary Art Museum and Modern Art Museum of Fort Worth in Texas.

 

Today, as an architect,

I still feel fear.

 

    安藤忠雄喜欢讲一只流浪狗跑进他大阪事务所的故事。“我跟我太太由美子，决定收留它，但一时之间想不出什么好名字。我脑袋里曾出现‘丹下健三’这个名字，但这样一来，我就不能追它或踢它了。所以，我给小狗取名叫柯比意！”在这之前，大阪二手书店里一本收录柯比意〔编注：即柯布西耶，下同〕草图的书落入了安藤手里，让这位法国建筑师仿佛命运般地走进安藤的人生，也让书变成了安藤的圣经，为他铺设通往现代建筑的道路。

    1995年，安藤得到了世界上最有声望的建筑奖项─普利兹克奖，事业生涯到达巅峰（安藤把该奖的十万美元奖金，全数捐给因阪神大地震而无家可归的神户市孤儿），而所有的杂志报导安藤时，都不忘提及他做过卡车司机和拳击手的年轻岁月，塑造他坚强、自学有成的大阪街头小子形象，还有他和大多数东大毕业的建筑精英那种圆滑所不同的气息。

    安藤非常喜欢这个化外之民的形象，并在谈话中添补有关生存、杀戮与恐惧的寓意。人们容易被这种修辞打动：他的拳有如水泥墙壁，心却是将绝迹的日本纯真本质！安藤从不厌倦跟人提起他对环境的责任，提到的次数之多，有时让人觉得，这种坚强的姿态仿佛是用他一生倒在自然景观里的混凝土才打造得出来。

    安藤的批评者总是紧咬着“顽石般的风格”来反对他，而他也的确不会偏离水泥，就如他从不曾脱离他那著名的利物浦披头四式发型一样。评论家宣称他迷恋的构造材料是一种压制人性的工具。但相对的，亚曼尼〔编注：即意大利时装设计师Giorgio Armani〕和班尼顿〔编注：即Luciano Benetton，其家族为意大利著名的时装制造商，Benetton Group〕等欧洲支持者在安藤的灰水泥堡垒里却感觉很自在。值得一提的是，这些时尚设计师们要的其实是能烘托出自己产品的建筑，而不是跟它们抢风头的（这些人都是意大利的富豪，意大利这国家则以绑架著称；一个堡垒，至少在潜意识上是蛮好的）。而对其他欧洲人来说，在安藤设计的教堂里祈祷与沉思，事实上会感觉心灵有被压制下来的平静，这些教堂的墙壁让他们联想到第二次世界大战的碉堡。

    四条腿的柯比意后来呢？怎么样了？

    当我问到这个，安藤与由美子一脸哀伤，他们心爱的伙伴有一天被绊倒，摔落了好几层楼，死在安藤位于大阪的工作室里，一个没有窗口的混凝土空间，一个保护不了柯比意的城堡。

 

 

哈根伯格  西方文化对美的定义以几何法则为主，且与完美同义。在你的作品里，你对“美”的定义为何？

安藤忠雄  日本对“美”的诠释不是静态的，而是认为可以在不断变换的过程中寻找到美。比如季节的到来与消逝、因气候变化而游移的光线、大自然色泽的变化等。我们（日本）用直觉体会这些。我个人对“美”的定义，大概就介于上述西方与日本的诠释之间。

哈    身为一个建筑师，你经常强调自己对自然的责任，并且告诫我们不要过度单单依赖“逻辑思考”。

安    西方思考强调逻辑性与经由逻辑导出的经济性，关键词是“改进”。在东方，我们依赖的是从自然取得的直觉。但单凭直觉，无法让我们在普世的层级（global scale）有效地运作，因此我们需要借助西方逻辑思考的平台。西方的影响在今天可谓无所不在，尤其在第三世界国家，这些地方的人口成长在医学与技术的助长下已经完全失控了。要打破这种恶性循环只有一个办法，就是调和西方逻辑与东方直觉。作为从事创作的人，就我个人的层面而言，我每天都在处理这种两难。

哈    为了把你的创作从混沌中理出规律？

安    想要有创意，就不能只依靠事实与逻辑。你需要一点智慧。许多人自以为能从事创作，因为他们懂得很多事情，但其实那是不够的。重要的是，在你把自己的作品拿去感动别人之前，你得先知道自己的感受。

哈    你今天所说的听起来更为根本和彻底，怎么回事？

安    我对神户这个城市有着很独特的感情。我在神户长大，在那里设计了近三十栋房子。但经历过那场毁灭性的地震〔译注：阪神大地震〕后，突然间，我领悟到建筑是如此根深蒂固地深植于我们的感情生活里。这场灾难强行夺走了人们的记忆。那些原寄存于学校、图书馆、公寓、街道以及所有构造物的记忆。我要说的是，那样的丧失能让你重新发觉环境的意义。你因此了解环境不只形塑了你身处的物质景观，同时也形塑了你的精神世界。城市不只是纯机能的配置，也是建立你记忆的心灵构筑。这是我发起“兵库绿色带”〔Hyogo Green Network〕的原因。

哈    ……目标是种植250000棵树。

安    需要重建的不只是建筑与街道，我们的集体记忆也需要重建。我曾问过自己，有什么方法可以把大家重新聚集在一起、治愈他们的伤痛？有什么方式可以让他们了解城市应该与自然一起成长？答案很简单，种树。这其中有许多树木每年都会开出白色的花，唤起人们对震灾往生者的缅怀。而且这些树来自日本各地，我们先把它们放在苗圃园里，要求营造公司妥善照料这些树苗，为它们浇水、施肥，直到完成重建工作为止。

哈    除了树木，你还有在收集什么吗？

安    除了书与有色铅笔以外，没有什么特别的。

哈    现在很多建筑师对电脑的依赖大大胜过了铅笔。

安    保持平衡是很棒的事。在我的工作里，我不断游走于创意的想象和现实的、物理的真实之间，以及虚构与实质之间。我希望我能解决真实的问题，但同时对自己的理想保持真诚。像我之前曾说的，建筑会伸入我们的感情生活，根植于记忆里。

哈    你最近的作品之一是美国得州的沃兹堡现代美术馆。在那边，你再一次选择了混凝土和玻璃，而不是其他建筑材料。

安    混凝土与玻璃是这个世纪最具代表性的两种材料。在沃兹堡现代美术馆一案中，混凝土的外侧被玻璃覆盖起来，而玻璃软化了庞大量体的外观。美术馆主要是作为心灵交会的场所，而不是贵重物品的看守者。因此最重要的工作是创造出供人沉思的氛围，让参观者有不被打扰、无拘无束、受保护的感觉，这样他才能安心找到自己与艺术之间独一无二的关联。与建筑相处的道理，就跟我们和小时候自己种植的树木相处一样，我们会越来越喜欢它。树木与建筑都是我们记忆的建构者（builders）。

哈    神户之后，又来了另一场灾难，这次是在纽约〔译注：纽约“9·11”事件〕，再一次，你觉得必须以建筑师的身份表达意见。

安    我在纽约“灾场”〔Ground Zero〕的设计很简单：一个被草坪覆盖的小丘，形状很像日本传统的坟墓。日本人看到它会联想到墓地，但美国人或许不会。知觉和认知总是随着文化而不同。但不管文化的特质为何，一旦进入到纪念区，人们往往本能地知道是怎么一回事，这是普世感受的结果。在“灾场”，我想象原本陌生的人会坐在土丘的草坪上，尝试跟旁边的人说话，诉说他们的体验，并因为有人做伴而感到欣慰。如果他们只想在这里建造更多的摩天大楼─为了炫耀美国支配性经济力量的建筑物─这景象就不会出现。“9·11”不完全是美国的经验，而是全球性的悲剧。这是我建议美国政府买下“灾场”的原因。这样才能把它变成和平的、宁静的与反省的场所，邀请世界各地的人到此沉思、冥想。

哈    如果你要替自己建造一个“窝”〔译注：shelter，具避难所、庇护所、棚子之意，在本书顺文意，统一译为窝〕，它会是什么样子？

安    只要我还站在地球上、觉得自己还活着，我就不需要任何的“窝”。松尾芭蕉（1644─1694）晚年的诗里写道：“旅中，有恙／梦里，荒原徘徊。”松尾芭蕉穷其一生寻找生命的意义，那就是他的热情。如果你像松尾芭蕉那样充满热情，你就可以活得无物、无欲、无需庇护。

哈    请问你如何应对恐惧？

安    我曾经是个拳击手。拳击可以致人于死地。当时我食不下咽、睡不安稳、想吐，活在无止尽的恐惧里，所以我开始思考。而今天，作为一位建筑师，我仍然感到恐惧。我是否能提出一个伟大的想法，画出精彩绝伦的平面图，并借此创造出让人印象深刻的建筑？所有一切都要在孤独中自己做决定。万一建筑失败了呢？我还会有另一个机会吗？如果没有，我的员工怎么办？当拳击手时，我学到我得判断并让自己行动，同时承担责任。在这个层面上，拳击手与建筑师的生活其实很类似。                        

哈    那像是（军事）战争、经济上的战争、恐怖主义等，你如何处理这种全球性层级的恐惧？

安    仍然是静思冥想。前联合国教育科学文化组织的主管Ferderico Mayor也相信，来自不同宗教的人可以透过静思冥想而和平共处，所以我在1995年，替联合国教科文组织设计了一个冥想空间。当然，我们不可能一下子就创造出一个理想的大同世界，但静思冥想可以是第一步。我们应该随时意识到这点。静思是每天的功课，就像佛教僧侣与回教徒那样。建筑师在建造房子、设计景观时，同时思考着设计背后的意涵，也是一种静思。我们日本人有“净土”（jodo，佛教用语：神圣的土地）之说，净土位于西方。我设计过一些佛教寺庙，它们都跟佛像的坐向一样，面朝西边，太阳西下时正好可以照到，这可能是最适合静思的时间。

哈    你认为美国的消费行为（主义）是今日世界性问题的源头。这是否也是引发恐怖活动的起因？

安    对美国化的反抗应该是原因之一。在过去五十年里，日本也已经变成了一个美国化的社会。透过大众化的消费行为，我们成为量产与社会功能的一部分。汉堡店、甜甜圈店、得来速〔编注：即汽车餐厅，Drive Thru〕等美式社会不可或缺的事物，日本已应有尽有。但这样就产生了问题，因为美国化不会考量地区社群的差异性，只在意不同货币间的相互关系。

 

 

       Tadao Ando likes to tell the story of a stray dog that walked into his office in Osaka one day. “My wife, Yumiko, and I decided to adopt him but couldn’t think of a name. Kenzo Tange came to mind, but then I realized I couldn’t kick him around. And so I called the puppy Le Corbusier!” Previously and fatefully, the French architect had entered Ando’s life in a second-hand bookshop in Osaka, where a rare catalogue of Le Corbusier’s drawings fell into his hands. It became Ando’s bible and set him on the path to modern architecture.

       In 1995 Ando’s career culminated with the world’s most prestigious architectural decoration – the Pritzker Prize. (It came with a US$100,000 award, which Ando donated to orphans of the Great Hanshin earthquake in Kobe). Magazines that write about Ando never fail to mention that in his teenage years he was a truck driver and a boxer, a background that sets him – a tough, self-taught street kid from Osaka – apart from the snobbish Tokyo university graduates that largely comprise the architectural elite. Ando has embraced this desperado image and feeds it into conversations through allegories of survival, killing and fear. One is easily charmed by this rhetoric – his fists are walls of concrete, but in his heart is Japan’s endangered nature. Ando never tires of mentioning his environmental responsibilities – so much so that at times it appears to be a make-good gesture for the millions of tons of concrete he’s poured into the landscape over a lifetime.

       Ando’s critics hold his “stubbornness of style” against him – he has never strayed from cement, as he has never deviated from his famous Liverpool-Beatles hairstyle. The critics claim his fetish construction material is a tool used to subjugate humans. On the contrary, European supporters like Giorgio Armani and Luciano Benetton feel at ease within Ando’s gray cement fortresses, though it must be acknowledged that these are fashion designers who want architecture to enhance their products, not compete with them. (They are also wealthy Italians in a country famous for kidnappings, where a fortress – at least subconsciously – makes perfect sense). For other Europeans, praying or meditating in one of Ando’s churches – whose walls might remind them of WWII bunkers – could, indeed, feel like subjugation.

       And whatever became of the four-legged Corbusier? Tadao’s and Yumiko’s faces saddened when I asked. Their beloved companion tripped one day, fell down several floors and died inside Ando’s studio in Osaka, a concrete space without windows – one fortress that could not protect Le Corbusier.

ROLAND HAGENBERG   In Western civilizations the definition of beauty is close to the laws of geometry and synonymous with perfection. How would you define beauty in your work?

TADAO ANDO   Japan’s interpretation of beauty is less static and it can be found in constant changes – in the coming and going of seasons for instance; in the fluctuations of light caused by the weather; in the colorful alterations of nature. We experience this through intuition. My own definition of beauty lies somewhere in-between the Western and the Japanese interpretation.

RH  As an architect you have always emphasized your responsibility for the environment and warned us not to rely too much on “thinking by logic” alone.

TA   Western thinking emphasizes logic and logic drives the economy. The keyword is improvement. In the East we rely more on intuition drawn from nature, but this alone does not allow us to act on a global scale. To do so, we must use the logic platform of the West. The Western influence has spread everywhere, especially into Third World countries, where medicine and technology support an out-of-control population growth. This dangerous circle can only be broken if we blend Western logic with Eastern intuition. As a creative person I have to deal with this dilemma every day on a personal level.

RH  To bring order into your creative chaos?

TA   If you want to be creative, your work cannot be based on facts and logic alone. You need wisdom. Too many people believe they can be creative because they know a lot. But that’s not enough. First you have to experience feelings yourself before you set out to move other people’s hearts with your work.

RH  Today you sound more radical. What happened?

TA   I have a special attachment to the city of Kobe. I grew up there and conceived about 30 buildings in that area. After the devastating earthquake that killed thousands of people, I became suddenly aware how deeply architecture is rooted in our emotional lives. The disaster robbed people of their memories. Those memories were attached to schools, libraries, apartments, streets, and all kinds of structures. What I want to say is, that loss makes you become aware of your environment. You realize that it not only shapes your physical landscape but your mental world as well. The city is more than a pure functional arrangement; it is also a spiritual fabric for your memories. That’s why I started the Hyogo Green Network....

RH  ...with the goal to plant 250,000 trees.

TA   Not only buildings and streets have to be restored but also our collective memory. I asked myself, what could bring people together and heal their pain, what could make them aware that the city should grow together with nature? The answer is as simple as planting a tree. Many of them bloom every year with white blossoms in memory of the people who perished in the quake. The trees come from all over Japan. We put some of them into a nursery school first. We asked the construction companies to take care of little seedlings – they water them and raise them until the construction work is finished.

RH  Do you collect things other than trees?

TA   Not in particular except books and color pencils.

RH  Many architects today rely more on their computers than on their pencils.

TA   Balance is beauty. In my work I am always travelling between the creative imagination and practical, physical reality; between fiction and substance. At the same time I hope that I not only can solve problems, but can stay true to my ideals. As I said before, architecture reaches out into our emotional lives, creates implants in our memories.

RH  One of your current projects is the Modern Art Museum of Fort Worth, Texas. Again you prefer concrete and glass to other materials.

TA   Concrete and glass are two of the representative materials of this century. In case of the Fort Worth Museum the concrete walls outside are covered with glass, which softens the appearance of the massive structure. Museums are first of all spiritual meeting places and not so much keepers of valued objects. It is therefore important to create a meditative atmosphere that allows the viewer to feel undisturbed, uninhibited and protected, so he can find his own unique relationship with art. To live with architecture is like living with a tree that we planted when we were kids. We will be attached to it for the rest of our life. Trees and architecture are the builders of our memories.

RH  After Kobe, another disaster struck, this time in New York. Again you felt obliged to comment as an architect.

TA   My design for Ground Zero in New York is a simple, grass-covered mound of earth shaped like a traditional Japanese grave. Japanese people would recognize it as a burial site at once, but Americans might not. Perceptions change from culture to culture. But regardless of their cultural identity, people know instinctively when they enter a memorial. This is the result of a global sensitivity.

       At Ground Zero I imagined that people would sit on the grassy mound, and that these strangers would strike up conversations, talk about their experiences and take comfort in the company of others. This would never happen if they erect more skyscrapers – buildings that merely celebrate America’s dominant economic power. 9/11 was not a purely American experience. It was a global tragedy. That’s why I would have preferred that the government had bought Ground Zero. It could have turned it into a place of peace, tranquility and reflection to invite people from around the world to use it as a site for meditation.

RH  If you had to build a shelter for yourself, how would it look like?

TA   As long as I can stand on Earth, knowing consciously that I am alive, I don’t need any shelter. In one of his last poems Matsuo Basho (1644 – 1694) wrote: “Being ill while still on a journey/in my dream I’m still wandering around in the wilderness!” Basho was on a lifelong trip seeking for answers to life. That was his passion. If you are filled with passion like Basho you can live without objects, possessions and without a shelter.

RH  So how do you address fear?

TA   I once was a boxer. Boxing can kill. I could not eat. I could not sleep. I vomited. I lived in constant fear. So I meditated. Today as an architect, I still feel fear. I can come up with great ideas, draw up wonderful plans and use them to create impressive buildings. But all that is done alone in solitude. What if the building fails? Do I get another chance? If not, what happens to my employees? As a boxer I learned that I have to decide and act on my own and take on that responsibility. In that sense, the life of a boxer and the life of an architect are similar.

RH  And fear on a global level – with conventional wars, economic wars, terrorism – how would you deal with that?

TA   Again, with meditation. Federico Mayor (the former head of UNESCO) believed, too, that people of different religions could live peacefully next to each other through meditation. And that’s why I built a meditation space for UNESCO in 1995. Of course, it is impossible to create such an ideal, peaceful world right away, but meditation could be the first step. We should be aware of that, always. Meditation is everyday work, as it is for Buddhist monks or Muslims. Architects build houses, design landscapes and think about what lies beyond their designs – that is a form of meditation, too.

       We Japanese have this concept of jodo (in Buddhist terms, “the pure land”). Jodo is situated in the direction of the west. I designed several Buddhist temples and they all face west, as do Buddha statues, and when the sun sets it shines on them. This may be the best time for meditating.

RH  You consider American consumerism the cause of worldwide problems. Is it also the cause of Terror?

TA   Resistance to Americanization is one part of it. In the last fifty years, Japan, too, has changed into an Americanized society. We are mass-producing and society functions because of mass consumption. Hamburger shops, Mister Donut, drive-in stores; we have all the prerequisites of an American society. And that creates problems, because Americanization does not consider the diversity of local communities; it only considers the mutual denomination of money.