Antonín Engel: Inaugural Lecture at the School of Architecture at the Czech Technical University in Prague

Gentlemen!

Allow me to speak a few words to you, as my future audience, during my inaugural lecture today! The office of an academic teacher is undoubtedly one of the most honorable that can be bestowed upon a simple citizen of the republic; however, besides the honor it brings, it carries with it a great burden of duties and responsibilities, especially when assumed, as is the case today, under circumstances that are to a significant extent extraordinary. I must ask for your patience and for the opportunity to provide a more detailed explanation of what I see as the extraordinary nature of these circumstances, and the increased level of responsibilities that arise from my role as a teacher.
Without wishing to engage in what preceded my appointment, I will proceed directly to the matter at hand and attempt to first briefly recap the development of the crisis in which contemporary architecture has found itself since the beginning of this century. During the celebration of the twentieth anniversary of your professional association, I had the opportunity to point out the development during this time. You are possibly aware that since the emergence of what is referred to as modernity, contemporary architecture has undergone various phases of development, from the initial secession to Wagnerian constructivism, from material naturalism to im- and expressionism, then cubism, etc., without any of these "movements" being permanently anchored or sustained beyond the arrival of the next new one. The ephemerality of these phenomena, their almost mayfly existence, is evident and speaks only to the legitimacy of the term crisis. If all signs of the times are not misleading, it seems that there is a growing conviction that this path will not lead to a goal. Certainly also because many of the described concepts were too superficially taken from other, less tectonic art fields, there was an attempt to reach objectives through means that do not correspond to the tectonic nature of architecture, hastily rushing towards the goal of achieving a new form far earlier than not only the most significant components of architectural creation but also the most basic conditions for mere existence of this art would allow. Paradoxically as it may sound, one can speak here of a certain superficiality that rushed into existence as formalism, the effects of which have often disrupted the successful architectural processes just as it was with formalism rooted in historical periods. The difference, however, is that the rapid alternation of formal understandings, often contradictory, has created a heightened tension, which of course had to be followed by occasional inevitable fatigue and disorientation about what would come next.
By our national temperament, we are inclined towards novelties, which we generally adopt from elsewhere rather uncritically.
Our cultural traditions have been disrupted several times during the ages, and thus we are very easily subjected to cultural influences from various directions, whereby a otherwise healthy, fertilizing influence of new currents, which is unavoidable for progress, loses much of its lasting and profound effect that would have to occur if there were a more culturally resistant environment here.
I believe the cause of this can be found in our recent unfreedom, which hindered the inevitable material concentration without which a solidly founded and lasting cultural development is hardly conceivable. Only with our political liberation does, as we all firmly believe, a new era begin in cultural life, which can flourish! on the secure foundation of a well-organized state and its economic prosperity. And here, particularly architecture, an art primarily dependent on these prerequisites, can finally enter a period of full bloom. Now only does this field of art, which requires the greatest material costs, become current, and although it may be less apparent today, the prognosis for the future clearly suggests it. At the same time, the question arises as to whether we are prepared in every respect for the tasks that await us.
Allow me, gentlemen, to briefly outline the scope of these tasks. Just as in political and social life, so too in economic and cultural life, we find ourselves in the heat of a global transformation, in which new formations are being created that inevitably demand also new, entirely fitting forms in accordance with new requirements. But even those formations that have fundamentally maintained their capacity for life and weathered the flood of world war have changed significantly and will not last long with outdated means. Thus, there is a global thirst for new collective expression, which must primarily manifest itself in contemporary architecture. As a concrete example, let us consider: our cities, whether large or small, are approaching a period of inevitable and far-reaching changes. With reference to the interrupted pre-war development, this will not last for long.
It will be necessary to seek new methods of solutions in both the whole and in detail, of altered ways of living and life, to solve new technical-economic and social problems. Another example: the utilization of hydraulic power will cause a revolution not only in economic life but also in the natural and landscape appearance, which will literally change the shape of the world, and thus it will be up to tectonic artists to seize these previously unseen and impressively impactful elements. New social structures and organizations will create a need for buildings, whose forms and dispositions will differ markedly from the traditional types of the past!
From these just randomly mentioned examples, perhaps I have sufficiently clarified the quantitative scope of the tasks for the next generation of architects. However, a far more challenging issue is the qualitative mastery of these tasks, on which excellence in art ultimately always depends. Finding the most relevant expression for the new task, new material, new construction, but also new understandings of mass, spaces, and proportions will undoubtedly be the most difficult, but also the most rewarding task for the future of art.
In the history of art, we often find the notion that new stylistic epochs and new flourishing of architectural activity follow periods of catastrophic historical upheavals. If this is the case, then we are likely on the threshold of a great development, possibly in the not too distant future, and you, gentlemen, may congratulate yourselves that you will be able to witness its initial results, and what is more joyful, that this will happen under the roof of your own state. A variety of fields of work await you, where creative activity or at least collaboration with a capable architect is unavoidable. This profession is one of those that not only can but also must penetrate everywhere where the yearning for a perfect formal expression will be a requirement of the times. However, there are few areas of production that could permanently lack this collective effort.
Even if I restrict this profession to the narrowest foundation that is inherent to it, an enormous field of activity still opens up. For example, urban construction is an area that has been almost entirely neglected in our country, the consequences of which we are feeling particularly acutely now during this great upheaval. Similarly, the protection of monuments, as an important specialized field, has hardly even emerged, although the state of our monuments, both artistic and historical, which have been so neglected, is crying out for educated artists who are scientifically and technically trained. Likewise, the issue of architectural designs for industrial buildings, as well as for the previously mentioned engineering structures, waterworks, military installations, etc., will soon become pressing! At the very least, the construction of new types of housing, hotels, educational institutions, humanitarian facilities, cemeteries, and so forth—all of which from the simplest forms to monumental dispositions, in terms of external and internal construction—requires from today's architect not only talent and creative strength but also a vast quantity of positive technical knowledge, economic insights, long-standing practical life experience, patient and persistent dedication to work, but also much general education and a high cultural level. Each of the outlined demands is so urgent that it cannot be permanently neglected in the sum of others, from which it follows, of course, that the type of architect who would concentrate all these desirable qualities in one person will remain forever an unattainable ideal. With the complexity of modern life’s needs and its differentiation, it is evident that timely specialization according to the inclinations of individuals will likely be the main path of future development, although it is also indispensable for universal types to be formed simultaneously in a certain category (urban builder). The future and hopefully promising evolution of our school of architecture must inevitably develop in such a way that development in the indicated direction, at least in the main features, will already be enabled at the school itself.
That a mature type of architect cannot arise on academic ground, even if the mental conditions of the individual are the most favorable and the architecture school is the best organized and equipped, I believe is evident. An architect, more than any other technician, must continue to learn and evolve throughout his life. It is not and cannot be the task of the school to have responsibility for every individual’s future development, let alone an architecture school within technical higher education, where in the academic freedom of study, there is no censorship excluding those who, in the opinion of some committee, lack inherent capabilities, as is the case in purely artistic schools. However, it has the advantage of providing a vast quantity of positive knowledge that, in time, processed by a maturing individual, can provide a secure basis for creation.
In nine or ten semesters of study, the school provides you, gentlemen, with ample opportunities to familiarize yourselves with all aspects of your future profession, as well as to recognize your individual inclinations. What, however, I believe matters most, and what outweighs far more than heaps of knowledge, is a certain method of work and study. This brings me to the most important point of what I intend to say, namely the relationship between teacher and student. Knowledge can be acquired from books, but cultivation can only occur in the closest mutual interaction of both. The intensity and quality of this contact determine the entirety of future benefit, and its traces, good or bad, will decide for an entire lifetime.
I have personally experienced the influence of two great masters, Zítko and Wagner, and thus I can now fully comprehend the gravity and weight of my position today. I hope to find relief in you, gentlemen, and I must therefore ask for the utmost seriousness and love for work. I can only regret that with today's certainly extraordinary number of students, I will not be able to devote as much time to each of you as the interest of the matter would actually require, and it thus depends on the individual to make use of the time I can allocate. A necessary prerequisite for successful outcomes is, besides your intensive diligence, also the inevitable trust in my sincerely meant advice and guidance, of course also appropriate discipline in carrying out the assigned tasks.
I presume, of course, that you are not merely seeking to complete your studies at this higher educational institution just to receive a certificate of passing the state examination. In practical life, certificates mean little; instead, free competition applies regardless of academic background. It would be a shame if professionally educated architects were to be overshadowed by others who were not granted such a broad scientific foundation, but who nevertheless overcame and compensated for scientific shortcomings through their own diligence, energy, and talent. However, my assumption also applies to those who intend to pursue an official career in advance, as they can also become collaborators in the culture of the state and nation, precisely by being given a certain power that enables them to direct progress towards improvement in various often backward environments, where the influence of academically educated artists typically does not reach.
Finally, we cannot ignore one more serious circumstance that rightly demands the greatest exertion of your efforts. It is primarily the question of our cultural prestige as a nation, that being geographically positioned at the intersection of various cultural currents, we are able to process these in our own way, so that we are not merely recipients but also givers, and that we specifically become intermediaries and bearers of our artistic culture to both the near and far east. We best fulfill this Slavic duty when we first work on the artistic problem of our Czech identity within ourselves. The problem of national emblem in art is indeed a substantial chapter in itself, and in architecture, certainly the least simple. It is certain that if not directly racial, then at least the local geographical note soon manifests itself as a resultant of various components. However, the national note is the result of certain character traits and psychologies. Its origin, duration, and expansion depend primarily on the depth of the all-pervasive national soul, something that stands above us, even though we are simultaneously participants in it. I believe that a national emblem cannot be forced, constructed; however, it must also not be obstructed!
Likely after some time of calm, independent life, it will almost automatically manifest itself without our needing to be aware of it. We will most likely benefit this emblem in our field through precise study and observation of our people's needs, without abandoning the European perspective in doing so.
To us students from brotherly Slavic nations, I recommend the same perspective as soon as you leave this higher school and return to cultural work in your homelands. The methods acquired here (not finished forms), if they are successful here, will also prove effective for you, albeit under substantially different circumstances.
Finally, I will mention the direction in which I intend to conduct my teaching. Without anticipating the insights I will gain after thoroughly getting to know you and your works—which knowledge will certainly have an appropriate influence on the method of work and might correct many illusions I currently hold—still, I dare to say this: In today's time, full of upheaval and also artistic transformations, which alongside much promising flourishing are not without elements of great anarchy, it will matter most to achieve a certain calming, consolidation, to find some secure basis upon which all further creation can be built. Without this, there is no certainty that the paths taken will not be shipwrecked. The methods for finding this foundation can vary. The main thing is that they lead to the goal. They can be the study of contemporary life, its needs, desires, and today’s mentality of humanity, as well as the study of monuments of the past, which must, of course, be appropriately led, without exclusively limiting oneself to any particular historical epoch, which I emphasize particularly. It is also necessary to pursue the path of studying modern constructions, and by means of the results that derive from this, to achieve positive results. Probably the best way to reach a goal is to employ all possible methods, and from the mutual agreement in points of contact, the right path will be recognized!
Following this somewhat scientific analysis, an artistic synthesis must, of course, follow. These two fundamental abilities, seemingly contradictory, must the architect cultivate within himself if architectural creation is to be something more than a collection of borrowed forms, regardless of whether they are from the distant past or from yesterday. This method I have roughly outlined does not guarantee quick and easy results; on the contrary, it is not an easy path, more likely thorny; however, the results achieved by this method will probably be of more lasting value than those desperately trying to reach a goal in the cheapest way possible! One must not forget that the concept of modern architecture is by no means something finished; on the contrary, its main outlines are still very unclear. We live in a time of transitions, when old forms have not often lost their viability; rather, they will continue to vegetate in some altered form for a long time. The new trends are still rudimentary, raw, unrefined, and it will take a long time before they crystallize. Contemporary architecture is a living concept, constantly changing, and its modernity does not manifest uniformly everywhere. This corresponds to the natural course of events today, just as it did in the past, that new formal perspectives manifest first where there are entirely new tasks, i.e., those that are, in essence, without predecessors, where there is therefore no or only a negligible tradition. This is the case with engineering buildings, industrial constructions, etc., which are based on entirely new ideological and material premises, where the development of modern forms is possible first and most easily because there is no older tradition. Evidence of this, at least in a negative sense, are older engineering works, wherein the applied historical form appears especially unpleasant and disharmonious compared to objects that, by their nature and custom, reach deep into the past (churches, palaces, etc.). On such objects, already conservative by their purpose, the new formal view will probably not take effect until the very end, i.e., when the victory of the new worldview has already been achieved, provided, of course, the relevant buildings still have their raison d'être. Finally, one must also not forget that no development occurs in a straight line, but in a curve, having its peaks and valleys. After a certain tension, a decline and fatigue ensue. This is true even in science, even more so in art, where new does not necessarily always mean better. Whether today’s and tomorrow’s times will indeed create a modern style that may stand alongside historic styles will only be decided by the distant future, once the appropriate temporal distance has unfolded, perhaps only then, when this new style is no longer current and a similar transitional period occurs as we live in today. Architecture must always be understood "sub specie aeternitatis." Each era will imprint its seal and lead the growth of the youngest shoots of the gigantic tree of human culture, whose roots anchor deeply in prehistory. Between eternity and the present, like between two poles, the architectural processes take place, leaning more toward one or the other at times. The essence of monumental creation is to imprint eternity on the new form and contemporaneity on the old, borrowed form. Architectural creation is perhaps the most sublime that the human spirit has created, and it shares much with religion, often experiencing the same fate. Today, I believe there is no other way to escape the lowlands of the mundane than to deeply study and immerse oneself in the primal elements and eternal sources of knowledge that constitute the material and spiritual needs of humanity!
Therefore, I ask you, gentlemen, do not expect from me a sufficient supply of seasonal forms for application. I can appreciate and respect individual artistic understanding, provided it is sufficiently supported by genuine conviction. However, do not forget that substantial artistic individualism appears only in the late age of the architect, in contrast to other visual artists. Therefore, it is up to each student's personal choice what he decides and what he considers beneficial. If during his studies at the higher school he prefers to initially delve into the methods of his teacher and use that to solve certain tasks, then during subsequent practice in life, he might develop his own, better method.
With this, gentlemen, I conclude my first speech to you, at the very threshold of my teaching office. Much could have been said more succinctly and clearly, but I based my remarks on the assumption that I am merely outlining a framework that will be filled in over time, as fate allows me. Only after this time will the next criticism be able to decide to what extent and how I have fulfilled the task entrusted to me.