The history of Bauhaus in Tel-Aviv

BILL STRUBBE SPECIAL TO THE JEWISH BULLETIN

To many visitors, Tel-Aviv is merely an obligatory pit stop with an airport and a sandy beach, and then it's on to venerable Jerusalem and Israel's endless archeological sites for a dose of sightseeing and history. Having sprung up on the sand dunes mere decades ago, little in the newborn metropolis was considered worth preserving, and few people batted an eye when bulldozers razed a floundering building. Who knew that underneath all the moldering and sullied facades was the world's première collection of international style architecture.

But Nitza Szmuck knew, and cared dearly, and she fretted every time another building was lost. Twenty years ago, the importance of preserving Tel-Aviv's architecture first rose to the attention of a small group of residents, among them sculptor Danny Caravan, whose art is strongly influenced by Tel-Aviv's architecture. After meeting with Caravan, Szmuck, a student of architecture living in Florence, returned to Tel-Aviv and was offered the job of compiling a list of important buildings.

"I hadn't lived here for many years, and certainly had no previous appreciation for what Tel-Aviv was all about," Szmuck recalls of her years at the office of Modern Heritage Conservation. "For one year, I wandered every city street photographing all the important buildings. Everything was put into the computer, and after one year the amount of material was amazing. It was like discovering a completely new town, and was one of the most wonderful years of my life."

But many residents were angry when they found their building on the preservation list, afraid their renovation options would be limited and expensive. "My work at times was extremely frustrating because there was only me and little government funding," recalled Szmuck. "On bad days, I'd think it was useless to continue. But every month, I'd see one more building restored and it gave me courage to continue."

Saving the Bauhaus had become Szmuck's consuming passion, but in a country with pressing security priorities and notorious red-tape, progress was glacial. In May 1994, her efforts received a morale boost when a Bauhaus Conference attracted more than 2,000 international participants. During the week, Tel-Aviv residents were surprised to see tour groups gawking at their shabby buildings.

It was largely due to the singular efforts of the indefatigable Szmuck that, in June 2004, Tel-Aviv was finally designated by the United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization (UNESCO) as one of 24 new World Heritage Sites. What makes this UNESCO recognition of "outstanding universal value" unique is that, of the 754 sites, only one other modern city, Brazilia, is a 20th-century phenomenon.

With almost 4,000 buildings in central Tel-Aviv now considered treasures, the municipality is committed to preservation, and indeed hundreds of buildings have been restored to emphasize the simple contours that exemplified their utilitarian style. Among the fine examples of restoration is the former Ester movie theatre in Dizengoff Circle, now refurbished as the intimate Cinema Hotel, wrapped in curving balconies.

Marking the celebratory week in June was a conference on Critical Modernists: A Tribute to Tel-Aviv; the unveiling of a series of sidewalk markers highlighting select buildings; and an exhibit at the Helena Rubinstein Pavilion of Contemporary Art called To Live on the Sands. The exhibition, curated by Szmuck, featured photos, maps, 3D models, historical films, and the evolution of the balcony, one of the distinctive elements of Tel-Aviv's Bauhaus. (Ironically, due to her resistance in accepting anything but "pure" restoration, Szmuck was fired from her municipal position.)

The genesis of Tel-Aviv's architecture was the Bauhaus School, established in 1919 in the Weimer Republic by Walter Gropius. Breaking ties with existing European architectural forms, pragmatic Bauhaus adornment was derived simply from the masses, shapes and rhythms of the buildings' structural elements and from the interplay of light and shadow on its surfaces.

From 1919 until the Third Reich shut it down in 1933, the school was a magnet for avant-garde intellectuals, artists and musicians, including Paul Klee and Wassily Kandinsky. Nineteen Israelis studied in the Bauhaus School – among them Arieh Sharon (later appointed head of Ben-Gurion's national planning department), all of whom exerted a vital influence on Israel's private, public and urban architecture. Among Israel's finest examples of international style is the Telsch Hotel on Mt. Carmel. Built in 1933, it later became a rest home, and is now restored as a hotel.

"Bauhaus eventually came to include all avant-garde architecture in Israel, though the term international style is more accurate," explained Gilbert Herbert, a professor at Haifa's Technion and the author of several architecture books, among them Bauhaus on the Carmel. "It's a style of sophistication, minimalism and austerity which, in this case, perfectly suited the taste and needs of Jewish intellectuals because at the time Israel lacked financial resources to build more elaborately."

Bauhaus developed simultaneously in Jerusalem and Haifa, but it was in Tel-Aviv, unencumbered by history and few extant "eclectic" style buildings, where Bauhaus flourished. Exemplifying the utilitarian style suited to the founding fathers' socialist vision, Tel-Aviv became the world's first city composed almost exclusively of some 4,000 white cubist buildings, prompting poet Nathan Alterman to coin the name "The White City."

To accommodate Israel's climatic conditions, Bauhaus underwent several adaptations: buildings were constructed almost entirely of cement and plaster; the summer heat demanded smaller fenestration and over-hanging "brows" to obstruct direct rays; and the flat roofs doubled as garden terraces. Perhaps the most unique adaptation was that of the pilotis (or pillars) supporting the first floor. Conceptualized by the French architect Le Corbusier, the pillars created an expanded garden space underneath and allowed the breeze from the Mediterranean to further penetrate into city.

Typical of Bauhaus are long, narrow "ribbon" windows and balcony openings shaded by concrete overhangs. These horizontal design components were frequently broken by the vertical form of a stairwell window, often emphasized by decorative glass, extending from the ground floor to a cupola above the roof. In some instances, the harsh, linear facades were mitigated by bowed balconies, rounded corners and circular windows influenced by art deco.

The Second World War brought a flood of immigrants in need of housing and shoddy Bauhaus facsimiles proliferated. Meanwhile, the elegant Bauhaus lines were obscured by balcony enclosures, unsightly shutters and additions on the roofs and between the pilotis. By the late 1960s, Tel-Aviv was a city distinguished by its uniform unattractiveness, coining the term "brutalism" style.

While much of Tel-Aviv is in need of a facelift, several hundred buildings have been restored, such as the Sotheby's auction house on Rothschild Boulevard and the newly renovated Pagoda House on King Albert Square. For those wishing to learn more, drop in at the Bauhaus Centre at Dizengoff 155 (599-0249). Some years ago, the owners, Micha and Shlomit Gross, became enamored of Tel-Aviv's architectural heritage, prompting them to open the shop in 1999. In addition to a variety of books and gifts, an adjoining gallery features Bauhaus exhibits. If unable to sign up for one of their walking tours, pick up one the excellent self-guided walking tour maps.

Freelance writer Bill Strubbe has visited Israel 20 times in the last 30 years, and though initially appalled by Tel-Aviv's ugliness, he has slowly grown to appreciate the city.

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