“Basically, I’m not a big friend of architects,” says Gustav Kuhn, director of the Tyrolean Festival in Erl. “But I am a tremendous friend of architecture.” Since December, his affinity toward building has a new manifestation in the form of the black Festspielhaus by Delugan Meissl Associated Architects (DMAA), which juts out resolutely from the wooded landscape near the Austrian-German border.
On the western slope of the Eiberg mountain, the Viennese architectural firm has created an angular stealth bomber that might appear forceful and strident at first glance. Upon closer inspection, however, the perfectly camouflaged concert-building fits unobtrusively into its natural surroundings. It is the long overdue annex to the Passionsspielhaus, which was built in 1959 by Robert Schuller and can only be used in the summer due to its construction. Thanks to the new building, the Tyrolean Festival can now also be held in the stark cold of winter.
Play of the Seasons
The new building had its beginnings in a 2007 competition to which fifteen offices from around the world were invited – including Zaha Hadid, who had proposed a transparent, futuristic monster that would have ideologically shattered the existing building. Not least because of the restrained nature of their scheme, DMAA was selected as the winner.
“With its soft shapes, the old Passionsspielhaus from Schuller seems to screw itself into the mountain,” asserts Sebastian Brunke, DMAA’s project manager. “Our building also works with the topography, but it appears to break out from the mountain.” He explains the play of colors between the black of the new building and the white of the older one in this way: “It’s a play of the seasons. In the summer, the Passionsspielhaus stands out from the landscape while the new hall vanishes inconspicuously amid the surrounding dark woodland. In the winter, when the landscape is covered with snow, the situation is reversed.”
The supposedly black facade is actually dark gray. It is easy to see the contrast between the surface of the fiber-cement panels and their deep-black joints. The subtle pattern of the panels follows a geometric mathematical algorithm based on a pentagon. It was used to generate two different panel shapes that are pieced together in a way that is barely comprehensible to a lay-person. A total of 14,000 panels were installed. The overall pattern is a bit reminiscent of the drawings of M. C. Escher.
Where the Music Lives
The new festival hall was originally supposed to connect directly to the old building. But in consultation with the architects, it was decided to move the annex roughly one hundred meters away. Kuhn says: “Schuller’s Passionsspielhaus is distinguished by how it fits into nature. And that’s something wonderful. If we hadn’t shifted the building, this relationship with the outdoors would have been completely lost. I’m glad we recognized this quality in time and were successful in adapting the project to reach a comprehensive solution.” It cost 40,000 euros to relocate the building and blast away additional rock on the new building site. But the investment has paid off.
Without signage and without pomp and fanfare, people easily find their way into the lobby. The architecture speaks a clear and unambiguous language. Upon climbing forty-three steps, you reach the interior: white walls, a light-colored floor, and dramatic geometry in all dimensions. Here, Delugan Meissl’s ideas of fluid spaces come into full force: the spatial interconnections are sophisticated and sublime. After what seems like minutes of initial bewilderment, you can finally comprehend the expansive foyer in its entirety.
A few more decisive steps bring you into the wood-lined concert hall. “It’s as if you would walk into a musical instrument,” declares Gustav Kuhn. Against the worldwide trend of creating multifunctional halls for all sorts of different uses, in Erl the focus was placed fully and entirely on operas and concerts. Bernd Quiring was responsible for the acoustic design. “I don’t like these mediocre multipurpose halls at all,” Kuhn says. “We clearly and simply demanded a space with a pleasing, long reverberation time. There is no room here for spoken theater or conferences. It’s the music that lives here. The acoustics are simply perfect.”
The floors, walls, and ceiling are covered with stained acacia wood, allowing the auditorium and stage to merge almost seamlessly. No proscenium arch and no fireproof curtain separate the musicians from the audience. The interior – which can accommodate between 732 and nearly 1,000 people depending on the seating arrangement – is somewhat reminiscent of a violin case that has been sawn apart and reassembled. Subdued LED light is emitted from the gaps between the jagged wooden shapes. DMAA speak metaphorically and not entirely modestyly about an “exposed jewel.”
Conversation Between Old and New
The investment costs for the new festival hall, which took about one and a half years to erect, total 36 million euros. With an annual heating requirement of 13 kWh per square meter, the building almost meets the passive house standard. But nothing can be seen of the technological efforts hidden in the nearly 37-meter-long roof overhang. Quite the opposite.
“What should I say?” says Gustav Kuhn. Filled with quiet bliss, the festival director stands in the brightly lit foyer of his new building and gazes to the left and to the right. “This thing is terrific! Just take one good look at it! These two buildings, one old and the other new, are in a conversation with each other! And yet each is in itself a beautiful piece of architecture.” The project not only testifies to a fruitful and respectful dialogue between the architects, users, and patron, but it is also an example, as it were, of a respectful and original way of teaming up past and present. The future is already being planned. DMAA’s next task is to design the stage set for Giuseppe Verdi’s Nabucco.
-- Wojciech Czaja, Vienna
All Photos: Brigida Gonzales, Stuttgart
Architects: Delugan Meissl, Vienna