Democracy and Preservation

by Maxim Yurin


On the value of monuments

Monument protection is now under criticism because modernisations and environmentally friendly alternatives are regulated by law. Legal regulations often block transformations and climate-friendly alternatives for cultural heritage, while the financial burden of preservation rises in tandem with inflation and soaring building standards. Yet, at the same time, society clings to cultural heritage. Why?

Because we’re torn. On the one hand, we crave innovation and sustainability - on the other, we fear losing our collective memory. The 21st century is defined by hyper-acceleration; thanks to digitalization, traditions do not evolve like they used to - they are replaced. Social media mutates culture at breakneck speed, even the term “tradition” itself is being redefined. Practices become performances; routines turn into content.

This erosion of continuity affects how humans relate to built monuments and art. Their emotional and cultural value is not tied to symbolic memory alone any longer, but increasingly refers to functionality and public use. A monument without purpose is often forgotten, or even worse; publicly rejected.

Take Mew Aphaiwong’s Democracy Monument in Bangkok, for instance: built in 1939, framed by four anthropomorphic columns representing the army, the navy, the air force, and the police. Its symbolic charge is immense. Yet today it stands as an empty shell, bypassed by traffic, robbed of its former political and societal relevance. It is a monument to a democracy that never truly existed. Contrast this example with post-war Germany, where democratic ideals were built from ruins. The Federal City of Bonn, once capital of the BRD, stands as a physical manifestation of this rebirth. The city hosts not only the birthplace of the Basic Law in Germany, but also institutions like the UN, Deutsche Welle, and Deutsche Post.

After reunification, nevertheless, many of Bonn’s late-modernist buildings lost their meaning along with their purpose. 119 Embassies once scattered between the districts Beuel and Bad Godesberg now sit empty, their sleek 60s facades strangled by ivy and decay. Underground garages can barely fit a vintage VW Beetle windows are broken, OSB boards cover the doors, and the pathways are overgrown with greenery.

At this point, if decay is a form of respect, then we’ve outdone ourselves.

Yet there is potential inside of these buildings. Not just to restore, but to recode these spaces. In the face of housing shortages, rising nationalism, and political disillusionment, democratic architecture could be reactivated as a space of inclusion and belonging. Reused, adapted, and made livable again - not for nostalgia, but for function and participation. Because one thing is clear: democracy doesn’t just need votes. It needs walls, windows, and public space.

Democracy in urban space

Bonn has a history that, according to archaeological finds, dates back to the Paleolithic Age (70,000 BC).

The first settlement of the Ubii was later taken over by the Romans, who built a fort called "Castra Bonnensia" to protect the Rhine border. It was expanded around the turn of the century into a civilian settlement, which was called "vicus Bonnensis" and was located on the site of today's government and office district. It developed into a thriving city with many craft businesses, utilities and over 10,000 inhabitants in 200 AD.

The city centre was fortified with a stone wall in 43 AD, which in some places still shows the original city structure today. About 30 years later, the Bonn aqueduct was built, which currently continues to supply the city with drinking water. There were several conquests and destructions by different peoples, such as the Franks, the Dutch, the Swedes and the Spaniards. In 1355, the city was devastated and almost depopulated by the Franks. A mass grave on Münsterplatz bears witness to this time, but of course it no longer exists.

The city was not repopulated until the 9th century by the Merovingians, who first plundered the cemetery, built the cathedral and also received city rights in 1243. In the 14th century, Bonn came under the rule of the Electorate of Cologne and became the residence of Elector Ferdinand of Bavaria in 1600. During the Nine Years' War, the city was taken by the French under Louis XIV in 1689, and by the Dutch in 1703, and remained a ruin until Joseph Clemens rebuilt it as a residence in 1715. With the extinction of the Wittelsbachs in the Electorate of Cologne, Bonn finally passed to the Habsburgs, who built the first municipal court theatre in 1778, which is now known as the Schauspielhaus Bad Godesberg.

In the 18th century, Bonn even became a cultural center when Ludwig van Beethoven was born in Bonngasse. He grew up roughly where there is now a branch of the Tacos™ restaurant chain and other offerings with a lot of visual merchandising that rob the street of its identity. Beethoven moved to Vienna in 1792 at the age of 22.

In the 19th century, the city experienced an economic boom and the construction of the railway line between Bonn and Cologne, later extended to Koblenz; the Middle Rhine Railway. Along the way, many villas were built in Bonn's Südstadt, which are now listed buildings. With the so-called "villa district", Gronau was connected to the city centre. In 1887, the city became an independent, independent university town, which split off from the administrative district of Cologne and incorporated several surrounding districts.

In the 20th century, all of Bonn's fortifications, except for the Sterntor on Bottlerplatz, were removed by the Dutch occupation. After demilitarization, the city got a newspaper, a bridge, roads and a railway. It was considered a chic health resort where people liked to relax. The B9 became the artery of the city, where many important buildings were built, such as the Foreign Office, the University Library, the Ministry of Posts and many embassies, and the Americans finally handed Bonn over to NRW after the 2nd World War.

Bonn became a cosmopolitan city, but also a city of debt. The federal government had to provide financial support for cultural offerings. This is how the Stadttheater, today the Bonn Opera, came into being. There was at least a little culture, but also an aesthetic problem: the town hall, which was built in parallel. It is literally a city as a house, just as lonely buildings rise up in the gray landscape of glass and concrete. The basement: the underground car park with barred openings and niches for homeless people. When you enter the work, a dark, futuristic city of the 50s is revealed. Technoid art in every conceivable color decays on the walls of the gloomy labyrinth and the floor-to-ceiling glazing opens up the princely, brown open-plan office, overcrowded and smoky. It is so ugly that it darkens the sun at Bertha-von-Suttner-Platz.

Instead, there was a new attraction in the city: the Bundeskunsthalle, a very expensive art museum with permanent and temporary exhibitions. It only recently gained international significance when Danai Emmanouilidis smuggled one of her paintings into the exhibition (more). Next to it is the Museum Mile, with the Museum König and the new synagogue. Bonn became a city of art, but also a bit of a ghost town. Politics moved to Berlin and left many buildings there.

Today, Bonn is more of an economic city. It attracts many companies that want to build cheaply. There are more and more buildings that influence the skyline.

Places of Democracy

After the collapse of Nazi Germany, Bonn was a city without everything. Actors and singers, as everywhere else, had to make do with stages in barracks and roof trusses.

State guests were therefore preferred to be sent directly to Cologne or Düsseldorf to offer them culture, while they were ashamed of Bonn.

It couldn't go on like this. The city council decided on 12.12.1958 to build a new city theater. The citizens were allowed to have their say before a competition with 85 participants was announced. Bonn had a lot of free space.

The Poppelsdorfer Allee, the Nordstadt or the location of the WCCB in Gronau were up for discussion. The jury, which also included famous architects such as Egon Eiermann and Siegried Wolske, decided in favour of the design by Klaus Gessler and Wilfried Beck-Erlang from Stuttgart. They received the first prize and the contract for the new theatre building.

Their concept was based on the 50s with tailor-made, contemporary art and furniture. They brought well-known sculptors such as Erich Hauser and Otto Piene on board.

On March 3, 1960, the draft was approved by the council. The city covered the costs for roads and ancillary facilities. That was a proud 15,000,000 DM. The groundbreaking ceremony took place in June 1961. The result was a monumental reinforced concrete hybrid building on concrete piles with 182 columns. Eiermann praised the design, saying it fits well into the urban landscape and shows the musicality of the authors.

The new city theatre was opened in 1965 and attracted prominent guests such as Chancellor Erhard and President Lübke. At the premiere of the first performance, they saw the "Oresteia" by Aeschylus, staged by Dr. Pempelfort.

The general director had wanted a celebrity lift for 150,000 DM, which the architects did not envisage. The lift was installed anyway, but hardly used, then as now.

The costs doubled and completion was delayed by half a year. The federal government helped out with subsidies that aroused the interest of the citizens. Opinions about the building were divided. DER SPIEGEL called it an "ice cube in tin foil". Other nicknames were "23-million-mark temple of the muses on the Rhine" and "pentagonal theatre castle" and the director and artistic director Pempelfort was called "Pempel-Fort". J.M. Rubio praised the project as sensitive and humane in the Spanish magazine Informes de la Construcción. Other experts also appreciated the polygonal building as a "model of discreet and controlled modernity".

The technical equipment was innovative and offered new possibilities for staging. The lower stage had a depth of eight meters and a machine could hydraulically move and rotate the stage plate.

The lighting system was fully automatic and electric. The 901 midnight blue seats had individual ventilation from below, and the exhaust air was discharged through the ceiling. Such building technology innovations or technological trends had not been possible before.

Access to the theatre is via a meadow, where there is also a walkway and a large car park. The entrance area, the foyer and the canteen are housed in a two- to three-storey part of the building, which is surrounded by bright concrete balconies. They protrude wide, offset slightly from each other at the corners and give the grey building base mass. A staircase leads to the Kennedy Bridge, which imitates the vibration of the ballet band.

The stage tower towers over this structure. The roof of the white aluminium hat, with an area of about 3,000 m2, is sloping towards the entrance and rests on the glazing that reflects the sky.

The façade of the stage tower consists of diagonally fixed aluminium plates of 625 mm x 625 mm and the alloy AIMg1. The architects emphasised that the cubic structure should be as close as possible to the sky, which is expressed in the textile-like façade. The reflective façade could also be compared to fish skin or pillows.

The "broken" dynamism of this façade adapted well to the low and fragile urban silhouette left behind by the war.

In the break area, the vertical tables made of zebrawood stand out, which look like curtains. They give the rooms a warm atmosphere. The wood is also present in other places, for example on the stair handrails and on the interior wall cladding of the auditorium.

The shape of the wooden elements was not fixed from the beginning. It was developed only after the completion of the other parts in collaboration with experienced craftsmen, architects and acousticians on site. The try-and-error method was used to find the optimal acoustic solution.

The auditorium should have a medium reverberation time so that the theatre is suitable for operas with orchestra as well as for demanding events, theatre and ballet. The concept of the ribbon continues in the interior. It not only envelops the building from the outside, but also accompanies the audience to their seats in the auditorium and out again. It forms a red thread of impregnated white marble that connects the buildings.

The design plays with tradition and breaks with classical theatre buildings. The asymmetrical and playful arrangement of the construction sections is an expression of Dadaism and the rejection of the totalitarian system left behind by the Nazis. The randomized, geometric structures are a sign of a new beginning, of reconstruction, a symbol of protest against the symmetry of Nazi classicist buildings.

Architecture is therefore to be understood as a departure from perfection. It is intended to eliminate social differences within the audience, such as the first tier, which towers over the last rows of the stalls. The people "in cheap seats" are just as close to the action as the person in the presidential box. The distance from the stage is a maximum of 25 m. The seats in the first tier are even considered more popular because they offer a higher perspective and a better overview.

The planning also took into account the lighting concept. In the foyer hung custom-made lights to imitate modern chandeliers. Otto Piene's sculptures showed the artist's characteristic handwriting and are still integrated into the break room today. The lighting in the auditorium was also part of the concept of Gessler and Beck-Erlang. They had the idea of associating the beginning of the performance with the extinction of the Milky Way by dimming 1,400 light bulbs. Then the construction was pulled up and the stage lighting was switched on.

The auditorium is therefore a hybrid place of art. The designers pursued the overall concept of creating a deliberate neutrality and serenity that merely provides the space for this art. Even the seating furniture was designed by the architects especially for the room. They were upholstered in black leather and were reminiscent of Mies van der Rohe's Barcelona armchair (1929), which influenced the seating industry of the 1950s.

In the auditorium there was a floor-to-ceiling, narrow mural by Lothar Quinte (1923-2000), one of the most important representatives of German painting. The painting was "only" four metres long and extended over the height of the auditorium. It enlivened it with a blue surface on which diagonally arranged, shooting star-like structures in bright orange stood out.

The German graphic artist Helmut Andreas Paul Grieshaber (1909-1981) asked himself what art is allowed to do and what is not. This question was particularly topical for him in 1960, when he had to give up his professorship at the Academy of Fine Arts in Karlsruhe because naturalism was a post-fascist criterion for the state examination there at the time. Only a few years later, he created the woodcut "The Rhine", which still adorns the west wall of the smokers' foyer today. The black heaviness of the six rough wooden panels appears noble and modest in equal measure. As it hangs on the wall in its monumentality, it almost looks as if it were light.

The canteen had also been designed in the style of the post-war period. The interior, with round tables on one leg and high tables, was reminiscent of an American diner, not a theater restaurant. The lamps took up the round shapes of Piene's light installation in the foyer.

The immediate vicinity of the theatre was also such an important part of the concept that the building was moved forward towards the Rhine. That is why the river plays a role in the design on all floors, and the Kennedy Bridge is a sustainable part of the panorama.

The house also blended in with the surroundings on the outside. The new theatre building set an example, because it was more than an aesthetic building with a function. Rather, it was an expression of the renunciation of classicism.

The house was a stage for the diversity of the city. It reflected the art of modernism and postmodernism: not always pleasing, often provocative, but funny and meaningful. The architects may have had an idea of how the building would polarize, and deliberately planned it for change and versatility. The opera was a real building for society; Open to all.

The Architects

Klaus Gessler and Wilfried Beck-Erlang are two who met at the Technical University in Stuttgart and took part in competitions for new theatre buildings together. Although they tried their hand at prestigious projects such as the theatre in Ulm, the Sydney Opera and the city theatres in Düsseldorf and Karlsruhe, they were denied a big breakthrough. Her first and last success was the Bonn City Theatre. Therefore, hardly anything is known about the life and work of Klaus Gessler. Wilfried Beck-Erlang is credited with the larger share in the Bonn project.

Beck-Erlang was fascinated by the effect of reflection, which was considered particularly chic in his time. Beck-Erlang did not see the project as a manifestation of a spatial program, but as a complement to Lothar Quinte's painting. Quinte was a German painter of the avant-garde and a leading representative of Op Art. The two shared their aesthetic vision, which was based on geometric shapes, bright colors and dynamic effects.

The Theatre of the City of Bonn was one of the first theatres built in Germany after the war - that's 16 years. It was therefore also intended to be a symbol of cultural reconstruction and the modern identity of the city.

However, their design was not without controversy. Critics criticized the opera house with similar words that had just been attributed to the Stadthaus: lack of functionality, lack of integration into the environment and the exaggerated joy of experimentation of the architects. Others, meanwhile, praised the originality and elegance of the innovation. To this day, the Theater der Stadt Bonn remains an exciting example of post-war architecture, reflecting the ambitions, the challenges and the contradictions of a generation of architects who stood between vision and reality.

The Artists

Otto Piene is one of the founders of the Düsseldorf artists' group ZERO, which was formed in 1958 as a reaction to the horrors of the Second World War and the narrowness of post-war society. The group wanted a radical new beginning in art, a "zero hour" that freed itself from all traditions and conventions. She was looking for a new form of beauty that was not based on ornament but on the essence of things, and was guided by Le Corbusier's manifesto "Après le Cubisme" (1918), which criticized decorative Cubism as an aberration of art and called for a purist aesthetic.

Otto Piene was fascinated by light, which he saw as the "source of all art". He created light ballets, smoke pictures and fireworks that set everything in motion and interacted with the space. He often used everyday objects such as light bulbs, mirrors, grids or stencils to create complex lighting effects that enchanted the eye of the beholder. He didn't just want to free art from materiality, he wondered what people could see with limited means. He played with vanitas, appearance and reality, as well as life and death.

Another motif that preoccupied Piene and his colleagues at ZERO was industrialization: a source of beauty and progress. They admired mechanical perfection and precision of mechanics. They also parodied traditional motifs. By implementing it geometrically or mechanically, they exercised rationalist criticism of beauty, which has no essential function, but only serves as decoration. They saw a contradiction, because if ornamentation and decoration are an expression of status and function, why not also of social structures and cultural elements that shape human behavior?

Piene also created the "Star Pit" in Cologne's Mediapark, which was completed in 1992, "More Sky" for the Olympic Games in Munich in 1972 and the prism dome of the Schadow Arcades in Düsseldorf in 1994. He was also responsible for the design of the German pavilion at the Venice Biennale in 1967.

On the lawn between the opera house and the Kennedy Bridge in Bonn stands a symmetrical steel sculpture called "Ikarus 1993": four metres high, three metres wide, rust-brown. It looks like a harp with solid steel strings stretched in all directions. Of course, it is the wings of the federal eagle. The eagle is the traditional symbol of German sovereignty, as the ECB's website explains. The motif on the euro coin, for example, was designed by Heinz Hoyer and Sneschana Russeva-Hoyer.

The artist of the steel sculpture is Simon Benetton, an Italian sculptor. He lived from 1933 to 2016 and researched symbols of impulse that flowed dynamically into urban spaces. Freedom and progress were his central themes, the combination of iron and crystal his signature.

The steel sculpture refers to the legend of Icarus, a Greek myth known in Western popular culture. It is the story of a young man who flew with homemade wings made of wax and feathers. He got too close to the sun, his wings melted, and he fell into the sea.  The flight was the only way for Icarus and his father Daedalus to escape from a labyrinth that Daedalus himself had built. The flight was therefore a rescue from death, but also an act of exuberance. The work was donated by Hans Riegel, the inventor of Haribo.

The Power of Preservation

The Venice Charter, which saw the light of day in 1964 without German participation, is a document that proclaims the basic principles of modern monument protection. It is inspired by the Charter of Athens, which was created thirty years earlier.

Article 1. "(...) bears witness to a civilization peculiar to it, reveals a significant development or is related to a historical event." Art. 3. "Conservation and restoration aim as much at the preservation of the artistic value as at the historical testimony." Art. 14. "Monument areas must be subject to special care in order to ensure their integrity, functional renewal, adaptation and revitalization." Art. 16. "Conservation, restoration and excavation work will always have to go hand in hand with the preparation of accurate documentation. This documentation will include reports on investigations, assessments and illustrations in the form of drawings and photographs."

These paragraphs from the wording of the Venice Charter reflect my argumentation structure. A multifunctional building needs to be repaired and updated if it is to be able to make a positive contribution to society. So if we ask about the origin of the current definition of a monument, we can already classify the opera as a monument with the help of the paragraphs mentioned, because it has had an international, cultural significance since its creation. There is a tendency to argue against the preservation of post-war architecture despite all the facts. The opera is not just a building, but a work of art that needs to be preserved and restored.

Buildings such as the opera, which are designed for all kinds of cultural offerings, i.e. forms of creative entertainment, are not only mediators of democratic values, but also a stage for their implementation. Between 1945 and 1965, Beethoven's birthplace did not put forward an official stage, so the mood of two decades is characterized by anger over the lost penny. The construction of the theatre was gratefully accepted in addition to the criticism of the media, which we find in archives today, according to the sales figures. Incidentally, the parallel between the renovation in 1982 and the reduced popularity of the performances since then is also interesting. In February of the same year, a 3-D programme was broadcast for the first time, Helmut Kohl became Chancellor of Germany through the vote of no confidence, and "E.T. - the Extra-Terrestrial" was shown in cinemas.

A valid monument requires ways and means for professional treatment. The LVR's argument that the opera has been 'rebuilt too much' seems incomprehensible to me in the course of this. In the GA article of 16.11.17, A. Baumann describes how in 2005 the decision was made against a protected status due to the too extensive conversion, in 2017 it repeats itself with the same argument. But who checked that? The fact that the dismantling could also mean a recovery of proven quality is probably not obvious to those responsible.

The Monument Protection Act stipulates that architectural monuments should be used as far as possible in accordance with their original purpose, or at least that an equivalent use should be sought (§ 8 para. 1). This means that the use of a historic building by the respective target groups has a significant influence on the value of the monument. We now want to discuss in summary whether the opera in Bonn is to be regarded as an architectural monument and what possibilities are available for this.

The house was opened in 1965 as one of the first new theatres after the Second World War and was intended to be a symbol of the cultural reconstruction and modern identity of the city of Bonn. The architecture and furnishings bear witness to a civilization that, after years of oppression and intellectual decay, is taking advantage of its first cultural offering. The opera offers both classical and modern entertainment that does justice to the digital age. Therefore, one cannot speak of a change of use, at most of a continued use that meets the current needs and expectations of the visitors.

One possibility would be to use the hall as a cinema. This has already proven itself in many productions and performances as an extension of the play. In the course of digitization, the opera has produced several films and clips of its own, which stand for themselves as works of art. By the way, a film stage would not only take advantage of the acoustic system and the white curtain, but also the comfortable seats and the bar.

There are more and more examples of creative and respectful handling of listed buildings that have adapted their use to the times. The "Kulturbahnhof" in Aalen, for example, has been converted from ruins into a cultural centre that includes a wide variety of offers. The Thalia store in Bonn was transformed from a large cinema in Art Nouveau style into a bookstore that has retained the charm of the old hall to this day.

To sum up, the opera house in Bonn can be classified as an architectural monument that bears witness to a civilization peculiar to it, reveals a significant development and is related to a historical event as defined by the Venice Charter. The use of the opera house is important for society and its monument value and should therefore correspond as far as possible to its original purpose or offer an equivalent use more actively. Offers that support the preservation and restoration of the opera house and increase its attractiveness as a meeting place would be conceivable and desirable. A place with so much openness and transparency, which emphasizes the right to assemble at the Kennedy Bridge, is definitely a symbol of democracy. In many places, there are empty and misused structures that could meet all the necessary precautions for a system of hierarchy freedom between citizens.