I had been to Marseilles once before and I'd be lying if I said that I loved every minute of it in 2011.
For the full survey - read here - Marseilles - 2011
Marseilles, in a simplistic way, is a bizarro-land version of Paris. The architecture is reminiscent of a sort of second-empire, kind-of neoclassical that seems synonymous with the boulevard but with all the grandeur surgically removed. Marseilles is neither the center of the world, but neither is it completely obscure. It is, after all, the second largest city in France. However, there is something about the city that is both incredibly French and completely not. It is not the beret-wearing, french-bread-toting, bicycle-riding France that was made famous in movies like Sabrina or anything starring Maurice Chevalier. No, this is the France of Dumas, a revenge seeking, almost north-African setting which has a certain sun-drenched, slightly menacing feeling. Like a card game with people you don't know: the interaction could go either way.
A great description of Marseilles as it was (and a little bit of how it is now) can be found in the writings of Walter Benjamin, particularly 'On Hashish'.
Walter Benjamin - On Hashish
I highly recommend reading this with a scotch and cigar because minor vices are the bread and butter of such writing. But I digress.
BUILDINGS!
If you read my previous post on Marseilles you will be able to tell that
1) I thought the Zaha Building was at least interesting
2) I was not all that impressed with the Unite D'Habitation
To quote Willy Wonka
"Wait a minute. Strike that. Reverse it."
1) The Zaha building does feel like something out of the not-too distant future, in the sense that is not something that belongs in Marseilles. Upon second analysis, the structure feels like something that was conceived in a studio in London (after someone spent a weekend in Marseilles) and in no way relates to anything doing with the micro culture of the city. One of my colleagues who seems to have dedicated her life to hating Hadid's plan for Istanbul could not say enough bad things about the building, and for the most part, yeah. There are a lot of problems with it, though I stick by my assessment that to ignore it, is to ignore it on purpose.
2) Ok, so to be clear, I'm not ready to drink the Kool-aid on all Le Corbusier buildings yet, but when I first saw the Unite, it was as someone passing through: This time I got to stay there and it made all the difference. The genius of the Unite is in the sections and the details. Each unit is, relatively, pretty small but they don't feel so. The steps are done in such a way that a baby's hands could crawl up stair unassisted. There is a drop-box for staples (Bread, Milk, Cheese) that one can order from the store on the mid-floor. It feels like the kind of place that a child would want to grow up. Which makes sense, given it the design's post-war intentions.
What I was wrong about before is the notion of subtlety. Where the Zaha building is indeed striking, what it is not is particularly clever. If we are to compare these two buildings (which we shouldn't necessarily do, as they are completely different programs but ehh...) it is a battle of 'Shock and Awe' vs 'Indie Cred', Britney Spears vs Bon Iver. Corporate vs Hipster, with all the obnoxious associations that connect those notions.
Which brings up our next topic. The European Capital of Culture.
'The European Capital of Culture' is an honor that has been created to promote cities in the EU which maybe have been ignored in the past, cities that are not necessarily on your typical tourist route. Some examples of previous years include: Porto, Salamanca, Lille, Liverpool, Turku, Cork & Bruges.
This designation results in various urbanization projects and in the case of Marseilles one might relate the followings buildings.
- Vieux Port by Norman Foster
- MuCEM Museum of European and Mediterranean Civilisations) by Rudy Ricciotti
- Villa Méditerranée by Stefano Boeri
Each of these buildings feel particular of this age and intent, which means that it may be a little too early to tell how these buildings are going to age. I could give my thoughts, but if Marseilles has taught me anything, it is that jumping too quickly to conclusions and opinions can result often in having to jump back from them. But for the sake of it:
- Like.
- Like.
- Meh.
As the end of the trip drew near, I was excited to return to London, even with it's miserable weather and soot. This feeling was somewhat deterred when I was almost vomited on when the tube reached the Covent Garden Station. (Which is what I get for being on the tube at 11:59 on a Friday). Upon my east-London flat, my counterpart went in for a hug and in a moment of hesitation, asked what happened on my journey: "People" I replied hopelessly. "And Buildings" which was when the smile returned. Then I took a shower with that regionally appropriate soap that dries your skin and dreamed of warmer weather.
