The Real Deal With the Hirshhorn Bubble
The Smithsonian’s Hirshhorn Museum looks to expand in a bold new way
- By Joseph Giovannini
- Smithsonian magazine, May 2013, Subscribe
(Page 2 of 3)
Whether made out of soap or a high-tech membrane, bubbles are dynamic: They move. “Building the Bubble is not like pitching a normal tent, or even an inflatable structure over a tennis court,” says DS+R principal design architect Liz Diller, a boyish-looking 59-year-old who wears her cropped hair with an unruly cowlick erupting over her brow, off-center. The membrane is not just a roof over the hole in the doughnut but instead a continuous, single-surface membrane that bulges out of the top and bottom, forming a room within the courtyard of the existing museum, capturing an additional 12,000 square feet of space.
The museum hired German engineers who specialize in tensile structures to analyze the design. An increase in the wind outside, for example, would increase pressure inside, with structural consequences: The engineers had to stiffen the fabric to withstand fluctuations in air pressure. On computers, the engineers produced structural clouds that showed how much pressure the air would exert at any spot, revealing the stresses at every point in space.
“Even though the simplest, most efficient form is a sphere, the goal was to produce an asymmetrical structure, so we had to fight physics to find the right form,” says David Allin, a project leader for DS+R. And asymmetry was already built into the design of the museum by Gordon Bunshaft of Skidmore, Owings & Merrill, the original architect who created subtle, off-centered geometries in the courtyard of the otherwise circular building. At its core, the modernist Bunshaft design is not classical.
The engineers produced a tome of rigorous calculations, charts and diagrams, including beautiful computer sketches that show the Bubble girdled in several spots by cables that tether it invisibly in place, allowing movement within dimensional limits. The membrane never touches the drum, and hidden attachments to the support structure and to a ring inside the drum don’t show on the historic structure. “Fortunately the building is heavy and has excess capacity to take the load of the Bubble,” says Allin.
One of the most elusive tasks was finding a material that would be sufficiently flexible, durable and translucent. The Bubble had to be foldable and luminous. The architects worked through several options, starting with a resilient, translucent Teflon fabric, which did not prove strong enough, and then a silicon-coated glass fiber, which wasn’t resilient enough under folding, and then a polyvinyl chloride-coated polyester fabric typically used for tensile structures, which was not sufficiently translucent. Modifying the PVC technology, however, resulted in greater translucency, offering a solution that also stood up in computer-model stress tests for earthquakes and hurricane force winds.
The next challenge was figuring out the intricate choreography necessary to put the Bubble up and take it down. The architects’ sketches of the process recall detailed Renaissance drawings of obelisks being lifted onto barges in Egypt and then, after traveling thousands of miles, being hoisted onto pedestals in the plazas of Rome. The New York architects consulted with Swiss contractors who specialized in rigging gondolas for funiculars. “The prefabricated tent,” explains Diller, “comes off a truck as a continuous membrane to be unrolled and then hoisted up with mechanical winches, and dropped within the top rings and then inflated with a positive infusion of air from the building’s own air handling system. The flat membrane fills and then pops open on the outside into a dome.” Staging the erection will take a week, but inflating the balloon only a half-hour. The whole operation is virtually a performance piece, ending in the climactic moment when it all snaps into place.
***
In his many incarnations, Richard Koshalek has always pushed the institutions he has headed to move beyond the white walls of the gallery. In Los Angeles, he arranged guerrilla performances on loading docks. In Pasadena, he took part of the Art Center College program off its ivory tower suburban hill and planted it in the city’s urban grid, where it was accessible to public transportation.
At the Hirshhorn, Koshalek faced new challenges. New York Times architecture critic Ada Louise Huxtable called the Hirshhorn a “bunker” when it opened in 1974, and 92-year- old Olga Hirshhorn, widow of the collection’s founder, Joseph H. Hirsh-horn, says that the museum had always struggled to find more space in its closed, three-story doughnut form.
Last year, Koshalek magically turned the institution inside out by commissioning multimedia artist Doug Aitkin to create a 360-degree film, Song 1, that was projected on the museum’s cylindrical exterior walls. The event extroverted the museum and activated public space outside—a little like a drive-in theater, only on the Mall. Later in the year, Koshalek invited word artist Barbara Kruger inside to appropriate the walls, ceilings and floor of the basement lobby, so that now people who visit the museum are entirely enveloped by her words and ideas.
Suddenly the distinguished but staid museum was alive, and even cool and contemporary. Attendance skyrocketed from 600,000 annual visitors to over a million. “Richard is opening the institution up,” says Gehry. “He’s living in his time, trying things, avoiding the tendency to head an aloof institution.”
Early in his tenure as Hirshhorn director, Koshalek met with Diller, Scofidio + Renfro at its offices in New York to discuss building an alternative “creative” space that would act like an open loft. He wanted to spark a dynamic relationship between audience and presenter, “an anti-auditorium” that could handle large crowds in shifting, democratic, multitasking configurations. Multiple screens would face in multiple directions, in the round. Digital technology would foster global reach.
At a meeting in late 2009, around a conference table in their offices, the architects, Koshalek and his Hirshhorn associate Erica Clark held a jam session about what form the anti-auditorium should take. A neat white Styrofoam model of the Hirshhorn was sitting on the conference table. The architects presented about 20 ideas, but at a certain point, Diller produced a clear plastic dry cleaner bag, passed it through the hole at the center of the model and started blowing into it. The plastic inflated into a dome. “That’s it!” exclaimed Koshalek, in a eureka moment.
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Comments (1)
Smithsonian, May2013 page 36 Hirshhorn will be the new "art think tank" Think huge condom! ThinkCongress screwing nation. Think political cartoonists havibg a field day! Think Macy's parade Think balloon replacing Washington, Lincoln and Jefferson monuments Think Hindenburg Think is innovation a sufficient reason? Think does gawking count as approval? Think about bird droppings! Happy no public money going into this "building"!
Posted by Ted Largman on May 1,2013 | 10:12 PM