6 July 2011
As the flutter of opening parties for the Serpentine Pavilion started last week, and it became apparent that my invite seemed to have ‘got lost in the post’, I felt terribly dejected that I wouldn’t be able to see this summer’s eagerly awaited Serpentine Pavilion by Peter Zumthor for another week.
A last minute chance to jump on the back of someone else’s ticket lifted my spirits and last Friday night I gleefully trotted along to a private view, even snubbing the Bartlett show in my hasty delight.
On arrival at the pavilion, however, glee and delight were not the first words I would use to describe the feeling amongst the group I had infiltrated. As we approached the rather foreboding black block, and steered our course to an ambiguous opening in the wall, all the Friday night chatter seemed to die down and a more sombre mood descended upon us.
In fact sombre and moody might be more appropriate adjectives to describe this year’s pavilion.
Looking sombre & moody at the Serpentine pavilion last Friday night
And the trouble with sombre and moody is, if you don’t get it right, perfect even, in terms of finishes and details it can come across as somewhat surly and petulant instead.
Perhaps it was the budget or the programme, perhaps it was the challenges of translating sweet Swiss minimalism into burly British builder parlance, or perhaps it was simply the wrong choice of cladding material; but for whatever reason the finishes and detailing ended up somewhat wanting in the quality department.
The initial perspective view down the central courtyard is quite stunning but as you sit (on the hard painted timber benches) and sip (warm) beer in a (plastic) cup, your eyes can’t help but wander over to the imperfections in plain sight.
Close up view of courtyard roof
The black cladding material, (what is it anyway some kind of roofing-deck material?), has a gauze-like texture seemingly designed to highlight every unsightly imperfection, and comes in panels that are bonded together with some sort of black gloop that seemed to be splodged everywhere with abandon, some gloops still hanging out over the edges and corners of the otherwise beautifully framed sky.
Detail of courtyard roof gloops
Detail of cladding material
It wasn’t all doom and gloom however, the perimeter passageway, cleverly without any artificial lighting, actually captures some wonderful moments of light and shadow play as the sunlight pushes through the darkness and people emerge and disappear from view.
Picture of the perimeter passage
I am gleefully trotting along to the Bartlett show later this week so hopefully spirits will be appropriately revived.
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