Architectural theory – the collection of theoretical approaches by which the aesthetic, technological and societal challenges of architecture are defined and challenged – has only recently come to define itself as a field that is to play a major role in the education of future architects. This study explores the formation of architectural theory as an academic discipline in the second half of the 20th century. It focuses on Belgium, and more specifically its northern part Flanders as an excavation site. This field is not scanned or mapped in its totality, but rather explored by making deep drills into the educational landscape. In doing so, this study reveals a specific culture of architectural education, which drastically transformed in the period between the 1960s and 1990s. Rather than studying the publications or written accounts produced by canonised historical figures, this contemporary past is examined through the lens of four architect-educators or ‘gatekeepers’ who produced, adapted and contested new ideas on architecture in the studio and the classroom.
In this study, one methodological challenge supersedes all others: how to respond to the ‘haunting silence’ of the teacher’s work in historical documents and consequently, to the inaccessibility of past classrooms? To cope with these challenges, the study relies on the notion of ‘the materi- alities of schooling’ which was advanced by scholars in the fields of Visual Studies and Educational History. Hence, it asks how, in addition to more conventional oral and the textual materials, objects such as diagrams, paintings, maps and thumbed manuscripts circulate meaning visually. As a result, images and objects function as gateways into the black box of the classroom and into past schooling practices. These objects are bound together by illustrative actions or gestures of the gatekeepers under study.
Each chapter in this study addresses three main questions. Firstly, they look into the ‘means’ by which architectural knowledge or theoretical insights were disseminated to a student public. Which visual tactics and gestures the gatekeepers used to generate, launch, contest or disseminate new ideas? Secondly, this focus on the means of theory shines light on the different discourses and theoretical paradigms that were introduced in the classroom or the studio. A last question then addresses the institutional agenda of all figures. Was the implementation of theory in the curriculum a strategic move? And, how did theory support broader institutional directions? These three interconnected lines of enquiry offer a more nuanced and situated account of architectures different ‘intellec- tions’ in our period of study.
The first chapter looks at the lit- tle-known educational project initiated by Belgium’s acclaimed socialist and modernist architect Renaat Braem, (1910–2001) who taught at the Antwerp National Higher Institute for Architecture and Urban Planning (NHIBS) from 1947 till 1975. When Braem was appointed interim director in 1962, his first action was not to change the curriculum but to reconstruct the physical configuration of the school. By adding an eye-catching staircase painting, he accentuated an important passage in the school building. Claiming a central position in the institute, the staircase functioned as a stage and an auditorium on which an ideological and educational program was enacted in an implicit, yet very physical manner. This staircase provides the basis for a historical reconsideration of Bream’s ideologi- cally inspired body of work.
Paul Felix (1919–1981), a Catholic architect-educator, who was affiliated to the KU Leuven from 1952 till 1979, is our second gatekeeper. This chapter neither focuses
on his pioneering modernist architectural designs, nor on his limited published work, but studies his day-to-day work of reading, teaching and reforming. The latter remains
a relatively untapped and yet immediate
context in intellectual history. By developing a textual exegesis of a thumbed key text of Felix’ course, the 1968 text La fonction et le signe written by the Italian thinker Umberto Eco (1932–2016), this chapter redirects the predominant focus on canonical texts of architectural theory to the work of those actors who were not foremost producing, but consuming theory.
A third protagonist is Alfons Hoppen- brouwers (1930–2001), a flamboyant friar
and educator who was associated with the Sint-Lucas Institute in Schaerbeek from 1957 till his death in 2001. This chapter takes as its starting point the abstract painting series that Hoppenbrouwers produced at the end of the 1990s and carried into the theory classroom. It writes a ‘social biography’ of these paintings by tracing them back to their three sites of production: the street, the studio in a Catholic brothers’ house and the theory classroom
in the Sint-Lucas Institute for Architecture
in Brussels. Following this trajectory reveals Hoppenbrouwers’ multi-layered educational project. His paintings were pedagogical vehicles through which he taught his students not only how to perceptually understand space, but foremost how to read architectural history.
The last chapter then looks at the pedagogical experiments of Koen Deprez (*1961) at the Sint-Lucas Institute in the course of the 1980s and 90s. This chapter traces
how a military logic of strategy and tactics infiltrated Deprez’s architectural design pedagogy. Central to this investigation is a burned map, which functioned as a pedagogic tool for Deprez. This chapter looks at how
a military exercise, once transported to
an educational context, became a tool for promoting a user-oriented design practice.
It will look at how Deprez developed design tactics that blended military theory with Situationist ideas, and, how this was part and parcel of a pedagogical mindset cultivated at the Sint-Lucas Institute.