Mazzocchioo

Intro

SR

Smiljan Radić might be evoked by this heterotopic enumeration of facts, just as a cabinet of curiosities might cast an indirect light towards the Eclectic Collector: he has to his left the Angels of Klee / his grandfather came to Chile from Brač, Croatia in 1919 / short of a century later, he traveled from Valparaíso to Philadelphia on a cargo ship, a 32-day round-trip journey during which he read nothing but the works of Vicente Huidobro—novels, poems, and manifestos / at the end of the 1990s, together with Marcela Correa, he spent a lot of time in an old car, driving through the streets of Santiago, watching and photographing things which appear residues for others, such as branches, tools, fragments of shelters in the city, granite paving stones, images of circus tents, etc. / he collects ‘doodles and clouds, bubbles and cocoons, labyrinths and lattices, cut-outs and maps of the South Seas, Knossos, Tokyo / among the pillars of his imagination stand the words of René Char: to suppress distance is to kill / his thinking leans on the poetry of Tadeusz Kantor, Fernando Pessoa, Giorgios Seferis, Saint-John Perse, John Ashbery, Oscar Wilde / it is not unimaginable that his houses might be visited by the Selfish Giant or by the Boy Hidden in a Fish / he has a fantastic collection of Radical Architecture, works by Asger Jorn, Guy Debord, Constant, Reyner Banham, Claude Parent, Paul Virilio, Andrea Branzi (Archizoom), Peter Cook, Ron Herron (Archigram), Roberto Magris, Adolfo Natalini (Superstudio), Cedric Price, Paolo Soleri, Kisho Kurokawa, Richard Buckminster Fuller, etc. / the special place in his collection is a great monster: the folder of lithographs Le Poème de l’Angle Droit by Le Corbusier / among his heroes are also Fritz Lang, Massimo

Scolari, Le Corbusier, Frederick Kiesler, Antonello da Messina, Miguel Eyquem, Enric Miralles, Alberti, Gordon Matta-Clark, Ed Ruscha, etc. / he has two INES Tables while other people have dogs / he transformed his small house into a swimming pool / he founded the Fundación de Arquitectura Frágil in September 2017, to give a home to this personal, meaningful, unexpected fragment of culture / his texts themselves appear as collages and fragments of thoughts and ideas lively preserved.
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Smiljan Radić‘s projects are reflections of this atypically beautiful and unexpected eclectic collection. His work conveys a poetic blend of familiarity and estrangement, a quality that becomes meaningful through his mastery of architectural manipulation. His projects demonstrate rigorous logic and incisive thinking in form-making, combined with raw imagination and meticulous attention to detail. The fantastic synthesis between territory and built object mirrors the cohabitation between physical perception and intellectual representation of his works.

Smiljan Radić through one of his projects

It might be the Corral Sculpture Workshop, the project among many of Smiljan Radić’s, that made me aware of my profound fascination with his work. It consists ‘of just a stone corral – which surrounds a usable area in the middle of a field –, a bridge crane along one side – for moving heavy weights – and a tarp hung from it to provide shade. For me, this project brings to light much of Smiljan Radić’s way of thinking.
First of all, I find it beautiful to have a clear understanding of a work of architecture – a house – even when there is no defined interior space. The initial act involves drawing a protected perimeter on the ground, where nature and artifice coexist, reinforcing each other’s raison d’être and beauty. The way one interacts with the earth is fundamental to architecture. Thus, this perimeter takes the form of a heavy stone wall. It is artificial, featuring a cornice that is necessarily horizontal. This horizontality is both intimately connected to and contradicted by the topography, which presents a gentle yet pronounced slope.

What might initially appear to be merely a fence reveals itself to be a wall, embodying the architectural obsessions of our discipline: the structure takes on the temporal qualities of an inhabited ruin. Another pragmatic spatial effect is that while inside the enclosure, one can engage with the wall in various ways – perceiving the surrounding landscape over the low wall or retreating to work or meditate behind the higher wall.
The entrance. Approaching the house from the northwest across a flat expanse, you arrive at an unexpected intersection of two courtyards. The aforementioned wall here is low – about 40 to 50 cm – allowing you to visually comprehend that the gate is strategically positioned at the junction of the two.

To further define the entrance in this location, a massive boulder sculpted to become a retaining water fountain marks this significant element in any architectural work. Regarding the actual design of the gate, it is a metallic pivoting gate that, when opened, blocks access to the adjacent courtyard. Notably, with its axis set away from all neighboring walls, the gate serves as a technical element that announces the soon-to-be-revealed structure, which will accommodate the mounting of boulders and the placement of the roof.
The ground inside differs from the surrounding nature: it is covered in gravel, resembling a carpet that leads to the noble, artificial surface of yellow-hued poured concrete. This is the piano nobile, the covered space, the domain of the sculptor, where art is created. At this point, the walls rise higher than the inhabitant, creating an intimate atmosphere.

Working involves an abstract dimension of transforming matter, particularly in the realm of sculpture. This place of production is activated and enhanced by a technical feature: a massive crane with spatial ambitions.
The sculptor works beneath it, and the crane becomes both a tool and a landscape for the artist, serving as an extension of the body. It protects the sculptor, with an oversized membrane seemingly integrated into the crane’s design. Here, the archetypal act of suspending a roof—the formal history of achitecture—is filtered through the unique narrative and poetry of this space. This is the lightness of the architecture.

Heaviness and Lightness

In my reading of Smiljan’s work, the recurring theme of balancing heaviness and lightness stands out. This balance is evident in many of his projects. The walls and boulders, along with the ability to lift them, represent a tectonic, weighty dimension that profoundly grounds the architecture to the earth. In contrast, the lightweight membrane, gently swaying in the wind, embodies a sense of lightness, achieving a vertical dimension.

CP

Cecilia Puga might be presented by a few telling facts: she had first studied History at the University of Chile / after being suspend for a protest during the dictatorship, she re-evaluated things and decided to pursue architecture / memories of her childhood bring forward her grandfather’s house who had an art collection, counting among others Giacometti, Picasso, Albers, Paul Klee, also Colombian art / her grandfather, Sergio Larraín Garcia-Moreno, was an important personality of the cultural world in Chile: as Dean of the College of Architecture, he burned the Vignola, a book representing classical Beaux-Arts education, marking a symbolic moment in the rejection of neoclassical teachings / she studied one year in Rome where she visited buildings with a very long history and witnessed on how the Italians were dealing with the pre-existence of heritage / she worked as editor of Revista CA, the official magazine of the College of Architects of Chile / for a long time she preferred to work alone, collaborating with others just for specific projects / today she works with Paula Velasco and their office varies in size / she is in the pursuit of a delicate equilibrium that requires to engage in various activities, like teaching and other enriching pursuits; a diversity, that allows the architectural practice to grow in terms of depth and complexity / her architecture is not in the pursuit of conventional beauty, the image being a mere result of the spatial and structural systems / her preferred way of working is by drawing in two dimensions; related to this, she acknowledges that drawings are just instruments, meant to advance the project and to enable the teamwork which is crucial for them / besides being an active architect, she is also the director of the Chilean Museum of Pre-Columbian Art, carefully carrying on the institution created by her grandfather in December 1981 / she commissioned Smiljan Radić to be the architect of the renovation and expansion of the Palacio de la Real Aduana, built between 1805 and 1807 and which hosts the museum’s collection / she and Smiljan have been very close friends since their school days, sharing similar references and conceptions about architecture and the city / they had been sharing the working space for almost 20 years / her architecture is tectonic: space is being defined by use of structure / her projects and the preexisting landscape complete and enrich one another.

Cecilia Puga through one of her projects

A two-hour drive north from Santiago will take you to Casa Bahía Azul. Leaving the Panamericana Norte highway, you enter what appears to be a gated community that opens up towards the Pacific. In contrast to the arid landscape of the continent, the ocean side of the highway is lush and inviting. The red dirt road winds between parcels until, just before it seems to end, you veer onto the property. Initially, you may only see the trees, but as you pass a tennis court, a narrow alley – approximately 60 to 70 meters long – leads you to the house, where the trees recede, allowing the house to be fully revealed.
The first architectural gesture is the creation of a horizontal plateau that distinguishes the artificial from the natural. This plateau appears to be one and a half meters lower than the parking area, marked by a wall—or its traces—depending on your vantage point. First, you descend a set of light, open stairs into a welcoming garden. The house reveals itself as a harmonious assembly of three identical volumes, one of which is inverted. The architectural stake is established from the outset by the void strategically placed right at the meeting of the three volumes, creating a dramatic change of scale in contrast to the vast presence of the ocean.

This is what I envision crossing the threshold would entail: leaving an intimate, planted garden to be suddenly exposed to an infinite view of the Pacific. It is no coincidence that the axes and orthogonality of the three volumes are rotated relative to the shoreline. The ocean cannot be tamed; its beauty lies in its vastness. The inverted volume enhances this space with its diagonal, lower plane, projecting the inhabitant forward.

The ocean is alive: the tide can come as close as thirty meters to the house; otherwise, the shore is about seventy meters away.

The first volume contains the kitchen area, the second features a suspended living room and a bedroom, while the third houses two or three additional bedrooms. Considering that temperatures in this region range from 21 to 29 degrees Celsius throughout the year, the house naturally embraces outdoor living. The connection between the third volume and the other garden or terrace, allowing the program to be divided into independent spaces. And so, the ocean becomes an integral part of the interior landscape of the house.

The material is reinforced concrete, forming a skin that is visible both inside and out. The house resembles an artificial piling of rocks, designed to withstand winds, rains, the sometimes intense sun, and storms.

The weather leaves its mark on the archetypal, monolithic volumes, creating a dense and atmospheric environment.

The three volumes maintain the rhetoric to a minimum: a single window height is repeated to connect the interior with the surroundings. The vertical openings in the long facades extend only to the ceiling, with an inverted beam tracing the separation between the floor and the window. The square windows on the short facades are fixed and do not open. The metallic frames, mounted on the exterior of the wall, create an archaic quality when the windows are opened. As a result, delicate metallic railings are installed on the interior of the windows. White curtains complete the effect of the wall’s openings, billowing gently in the wind, creating a material contrast to the roughness of the concrete.
The floor finish is made of stone, which complements the concrete walls beautifully, enhancing their elegance. The goal is to present the house as an artificial, atemporal rock situated on the shore of the ocean, inhabited both inside and out. Even though the volumes are so radically well defined, grace to the masterful manipulation of the plateau on which they rest, a very rich sequence of intermediate spaces is being put into place.

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Timelessness and Permanence

Casa Bahia Azul brings to mind Martin Steinmann’s Forme Forte: it is simple and essential while also expressing sculptural qualities. Its material integrity derives from the ever-changing appearances of concrete exposed to a dense atmospheric scene. The spatial sequence is masterful, condensing the entire territory—shore and ocean—into a small space. This architecture is about simply being here, expanding perception to its highest potential. One feels that the house has always existed, inviting an appreciation of the ineffable beauty of the moment.

To begin with

I think it’s the small projects that can most clearly render manifest the ideas and thoughts that give form to the built oeuvre. Perhaps it’s a matter of scale which enables the ideal relationship of identity between parts and the whole; or a certain silence of the work that arises only when not too many people are involved in form making; or maybe it has something to do with a more direct path to the essence of things. In the best cases, an intellectual, abstract dimension of the building appears: through experiencing the built work, one can grasp the logic that led to its form-making.
Unfortunately, I have not visited these places. They seem wonderful and fantastic, yet they exist only as an imagination I’ve constructed through the photos and plans disseminated by architectural magazines and websites. These thoughts may be somewhat misguided, but this highlights a strong aspect of the upcoming conferences featuring Smiljan Radić and Cecilia Puga: we will gain insight into how they anticipate, conceptualize and create the projects they are working on. Even if this interpretation is flawed, it can still be productive and beneficial, as each project should be both a local, finite construction that is required and useful to someone, and also a general discourse that enriches our discipline.
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In August 2022, I emailed the Fundación Frágil in Chile to inquire about contacting Smiljan Radić, as he has no website or publicly listed contact information. In October, I received a response indicating that he was looking forward to discussing a potential future conference in Romania. Smiljan was very kind and open to our invitation. I also shared Mazzocchioo’s intention of hosting a double conference and expressed our profound admiration for Cecilia Puga’s work. He enthusiastically welcomed the idea of their coming together in Bucharest.
While preparing this issue in anticipation of the conference, we interviewed Smiljan and Cecilia. Additionally, we wanted to include a third voice – someone well-acquainted with Chilean architectural culture. Thanks to Ana-Maria Zahariade, we connected with Rodrigo Pérez de Arce, an important architect who is a teacher, practitioner, and theorist. He worked in both Chile and the UK, teaching at the Architectural Association during the heroic days of the ‘80s.
Additionally we have asked their permission to republish a text they had written – so that a certain more general image would arise. Their projects receive a textual reflection, in the sense that theoretical approach and biographical notes come together as one: Rodrigo Pérez de Arce’s essay A Brief History of Amnesia explores Santiago’s urban evolution, reflecting on forgotten urban practices and personal memories to examine shifting cultural values tied to landscape, memory, and city planning; in the essay Pereira Palace: Recovery as Sociocultural Care Cecilia Puga, Paula Velasco and Alberto Moletto discuss the restoration of the Pereira Palace as a means to preserve cultural heritage and foster community identity through architectural conservation; in Casa Chica. This House No Longer Exists, Smiljan Radić reflects on the impermanence of architecture through the story of Casa Chica, exploring themes of memory, loss, and the ephemeral nature of built spaces.
Now, a few weeks before the conference, after having had the chance to talk with Rodrigo, Cecilia and Smiljan, a phrase comes to my mind: coincidence is the laic name of destiny . Rodrigo had left Chile during the dictatorship and, when coming back, he was part of the diploma commission of both Smiljan and Cecilia. So he met them at a very early stage. The other important discovery was that Smiljan and Cecilia are very good friends: they know each other since their studies period; they have even shared a workspace – sometimes a room, even the same table – though they have not actually collaborated on projects. They respect and admire a lot each other’s work. Smiljan has even written a text about Cecilia’s house in Bahia Azul. And Cecilia, as director of the Pre-Columbian Museum in Santiago de Chile, has been able to choose Smiljan to be the architect of the renovation/expansion of the edifice. Finally, Rodrigo’s wife is a friend and colleague of Cecilia’s at the Pre-Columbian Museum.
The following interviews, generously provided by the three Chilean figures, are truly captivating and transport us into the stories and realities of the Chilean architectural world in the 20th century, both before and after the dictatorship. They illuminate a world that is as different as it is strangely familiar to ours in Romania – not only because we have experienced similar traumas at similar moments, but also due to a certain resonance in our approach to the profession. There is a shared quest to create relevant architecture while exploring alternative paths.

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Ștefan Simion

SR

Smiljan Radić might be evoked by this heterotopic enumeration of facts, just as a cabinet of curiosities might cast an indirect light towards the Eclectic Collector: he has to his left the Angels of Klee / his grandfather came to Chile from Brač, Croatia in 1919 / short of a century later, he traveled from Valparaíso to Philadelphia on a cargo ship, a 32-day round-trip journey during which he read nothing but the works of Vicente Huidobro—novels, poems, and manifestos / at the end of the 1990s, together with Marcela Correa, he spent a lot of time in an old car, driving through the streets of Santiago, watching and photographing things which appear residues for others, such as branches, tools, fragments of shelters in the city, granite paving stones, images of circus tents, etc. / he collects ‘doodles and clouds, bubbles and cocoons, labyrinths and lattices, cut-outs and maps of the South Seas, Knossos, Tokyo / among the pillars of his imagination stand the words of René Char: to suppress distance is to kill / his thinking leans on the poetry of Tadeusz Kantor, Fernando Pessoa, Giorgios Seferis, Saint-John Perse, John Ashbery, Oscar Wilde / it is not unimaginable that his houses might be visited by the Selfish Giant or by the Boy Hidden in a Fish / he has a fantastic collection of Radical Architecture, works by Asger Jorn, Guy Debord, Constant, Reyner Banham, Claude Parent, Paul Virilio, Andrea Branzi (Archizoom), Peter Cook, Ron Herron (Archigram), Roberto Magris, Adolfo Natalini (Superstudio), Cedric Price, Paolo Soleri, Kisho Kurokawa, Richard Buckminster Fuller, etc. / the special place in his collection is a great monster: the folder of lithographs Le Poème de l’Angle Droit by Le Corbusier / among his heroes are also Fritz Lang, Massimo

Scolari, Le Corbusier, Frederick Kiesler, Antonello da Messina, Miguel Eyquem, Enric Miralles, Alberti, Gordon Matta-Clark, Ed Ruscha, etc. / he has two INES Tables while other people have dogs / he transformed his small house into a swimming pool / he founded the Fundación de Arquitectura Frágil in September 2017, to give a home to this personal, meaningful, unexpected fragment of culture / his texts themselves appear as collages and fragments of thoughts and ideas lively preserved.
*
Smiljan Radić‘s projects are reflections of this atypically beautiful and unexpected eclectic collection. His work conveys a poetic blend of familiarity and estrangement, a quality that becomes meaningful through his mastery of architectural manipulation. His projects demonstrate rigorous logic and incisive thinking in form-making, combined with raw imagination and meticulous attention to detail. The fantastic synthesis between territory and built object mirrors the cohabitation between physical perception and intellectual representation of his works.

1- Smiljan Radić, Fragile Fortune, 1998

2 - Moises Puente, Marvels, published in Cloud ’68 Paper Voice, Smiljan Radić’s Collection of Radical Architecture, p.10, gta Verlag 2020

3 - Oscar Wilde, The Selfish Giant, 1888, quoted by Smiljan Radić in Some Remains of My Heroes Found Scattered Across a Vacant Lot, 2014

4- David Hockney, The Boy Hidden in a Fish, 1969, quoted by Smiljan Radić in Some Remains of My Heroes Found Scattered Across a Vacant Lot, 2014

5 - Moises Puente, Marvels, published in Cloud ’68 Paper Voice, Smiljan Radić’s Collection of Radical Architecture, p.10, gta Verlag 2020

6 - Smiljan Radić, ElCroquis 199, p.195
7 - Dan Popescu, the owner and curator of H’Art Gallery used this phrase this week when giving a tour of the collection exhibited in Lahovary Palace.

8 - Private institution

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Intro