CHAPEL OF NOTRE-DAME-DU-HAUT


Designed by Le Corbusier, completed 1956
Ronchamp, France
Le Corbusier’s Chapel of Notre-Dame-du-Haut (1956) stands on a hill overlooking the
village of Ronchamp, France, just miles from the Swiss border. A pilgrimage site since
the 13th century, the building now receives as many students of architecture as
worshipers of the Virgin Mary, to whom it is dedicated. Although it is now considered
one of the masterpieces of modern architecture and a landmark work in Le Corbusier’s
formidable oeuvre, the building’s peaceful hilltop setting belies a controversial history.
The courting of Le Corbusier (born Charles-Édouard Jeanneret in 1887) began in early
1950, when the task of rebuilding what remained of a war-wrecked chapel on Bourlémont
hill was designated to La Société Immoblière (development corporation) de Notre-Damedu-
Haut. The corporation’s original intention was to restore what remained of the
existing chapel, which had been destroyed by German bombing in 1944. After reviewing
the costs of restoration, however, it became clear to members of the corporation that
complete reconstruction was a more sound decision. In need of an architect, the group
turned to the Commission d’Art Sacré, the body of the French Church that made such
recommendations, and specifically to two local members of the commission—Canon
Ledeur of Besançon (the commission’s secretary) and François Mathey—for suggestions
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on whom best to solicit for the new design. There was little doubt that they would
nominate Le Corbusier.
Skeptical about a project for the Catholic Church, Le Corbusier, who was raised a
Protestant, initially refused the offer to submit drawings for the chapel. Just a few months
earlier, his design for a subterranean basilica at Sainte-Baume had been rejected, and it
was no secret that the architect remained bitter about what he perceived as the Church’s
lack of vision. However, his interest was piqued on learning more about Ronchamp. The
hilltop had been home to a third-century B.C. pagan temple and a number of different
structures dating as far back as the 14th century A.D., when church records reveal
worshipers first flocking to the site. Informed of the sanctity of the spot, Le Corbusier
made his first visit to Ronchamp in June 1950. After many hours spent walking and
sketching the hillside, the concept of building on the significant site became more
appealing, and the architect began to reconsider.
It was undoubtedly the support and friendship of Ledeur, Mathey, and their colleague
clergyman Pierre Marie Alain Couturier that led Le Corbusier to accept the commission
and allowed him to carry out the controversial design. All three were leaders of a
movement that aimed to revive the French Church through the application of
contemporary art and architecture. Together, the trio offered Le Corbusier free rein, and,
not surprisingly, Le Corbusier found it impossible to refuse.
The commission left him with a singular opportunity to manifest his belief in the
integral relationship between architecture and nature and between nature and religious
experience. His career and reputation established, the decision to accept the job was also
in keeping with a resolution to take on only work with a personal resonance. The project
at Ronchamp satisfied the architect on all counts.
The construction of Notre-Dame-du-Haut began in 1953, after the Besançon
Commission d’Art Sacré approved a refined scheme for the building. The building was
constructed of walls of sprayed untreated concrete (béton brut or gunnite) and whitewashed with a coat of
plaster to leave a rough surface. In fact, the use of concrete was as much a pragmatic
decision as an aesthetic one: Le Corbusier recognized the difficulty of transporting bulky
materials up the hillside and the consequent fact that he would “have to put up with sand
and cement.”
The chapel’s sweeping, earthen-colored roof—composed of a pair of
parallel six-centimeter concrete shells—contrasts in both color and texture
with the coarse, bright-white walls. Likened to everything from a nun’s habit to a ship’s prow, the form of the roof was consciously
designed by the architect with a crab’s shell in mind. The load is not carried by the walls
themselves, as it appears to be, but by 16 pillars embedded in the north and south walls.
The building’s two principal facades orient toward the south and the east and are
separated by a pinched wall that swiftly rises as it moves toward the corner. The south
facade, with its gently sloping wall punctured by a series of openings for stained glass,
holds the chapel’s main entrance. Ranging in shape from small slots to deep recesses, the
windows reflect the depth of the wall and create a mosaic of light on the interior. Le
Corbusier’s determination to employ this design element is apparent in his earliest
conceptual sketches, but the final design became far more restrained. Adjacent to the
wall, a two-ton enameled steel door bears the abstracted image of a giant open hand, a
welcoming to those entering the chapel.
Although the architect claimed that the “requirements of religion have had little effect
on the design,” the eastern facade was specifically created to accommodate an outdoor
chapel for 10,000 worshipers, the focal point of the annual pilgrimage masses at the
hilltop.
The west facade, the only blind facade on the building, features a double-barrel gutter
that runs rainwater into a receiving pool at ground level (rain collection was part of the
program given to the architect by the parish). The rain pool contains three pyramids and a
cylinder, all in béton brut—a sculptural composition vaguely reminiscent of Le Corbusier’s roof
garden for the Marseilles Unite d’Habitation (1947–53). These geometric elements
provide textural and formal contrast to the gentle bulge of the outside wall of the chapel’s
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confessional. The west facade curves around to the north, where a pair of towers are
separated by the visitors’ entrance.
On entering the chapel, light pierces through the south wall into the darkened space.
Punched through the wall’s thick membrane, clear windows offer a blurred view of the
landscape beyond, painted panes pay tribute to the Virgin Mary, and colored glass filters
light throughout the central space. Le Corbusier relieved the weight of the roof on the
interior by separating the south and east walls from the ceiling with a narrow strip of
light. The floor follows the natural slope of the hillside leading down toward the altar,
which is situated beneath the highest point in the chapel. Three interior side chapels offer
additional spaces for private services. All are placed in the bases of the chapel’s
periscope-like towers and benefit from the dramatically filtered light that pours down the
towers’ shafts.
Le Corbusier conceived of Ronchamp as a three-dimensional work of sculpture to be
viewed from all sides and intended visitors to follow what he described as a “promenade
architecturale” in order to capture a series of "événements plastiques” (plastic events)
when approaching the building and entering its spaces. Le Corbusier’s concept of
architectural procession was clearly influenced by the architecture of the ancient Greeks
and particularly by the staging of the Parthenon on the Athenian Acropolis—the
prototypical sanctuary atop a hill and the architect’s interpretive model for Ronchamp.
Even before it opened, the building and the architect were mercilessly attacked by
critics, the Church, and the citizens of Ronchamp. The chapel was many things to its
critics: a highly irrational building, a step backward for the Modern movement, and a nod
to archaic technology dressed in modern appliqué. However, supporters saw it as an
example of plastic poetry modified by the architect’s rationalism, a logical progression in
the development of the modernist idiom, and a place of intense beauty and feeling—a
bold return to the architect’s spiritual roots.

CHANNEL 4 HEADQUARTERS

Designed by Richard Rogers Partnership, completed 1994
London, England
London’s Channel 4 was founded in 1982 primarily to commission and air programs
and films that had been created elsewhere by independent producers and to directly
compete with large corporations, such as the BBC. By the late 1980s, the company
employed more than 500 people whose offices were dispersed among several buildings in
Bloomsbury. In 1990 the station decided to move to a single building that could handle
the large number of employees as well as the channel’s changing technological needs,
brought about by its shift to digital broadcasting. Richard Rogers Partnership, a London
firm, won the commission, and the resulting design, with its sense of openness and
references to modern media technology, fit the image of a company known for its
progressive, sometimes radical, programming.
The building is situated on a corner lot in Westminster, midway between the Houses
of Parliament and Victoria Station. Targeted for housing, the site became available when
the developer went bankrupt, and the borough of Westminster approved the use of the
site by Channel 4 as long as the scheme included a certain number of residential flats.
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The competition brief also stipulated other requirements, such as 15,000 square meters of
flexible office space, conference rooms, viewing and editing rooms, an underground
parking garage, and a public garden.
The site plan consists of four rectangular blocks that surround a central
landscaped garden. The southern and eastern wings—designed by Lyons
Sleeman and Hoare, not Rogers—are the required residential blocks,
consisting of 100 apartments. Rogers’s input on the design of the flats was
ignored after this portion of the site was sold to a separate developer to
raise money for

Channel Four Headquarters
(1994), London, England, designed by
Richard Rogers Partnership

Channel 4, which occupies the northern and western wings. The L-shaped layout of these
two blocks, each four stories high and containing the offices, echoes the street-corner
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location of the building. They are joined by a soaring concave, glass-enclosed foyer
containing the main entrance, accessible once one walks up a stepped ramp that leads
from the street through a paved piazza. A lightweight glass bridge, covered by a steeland-
glass canopy, allows the visitor to peer down into the station’s underground quarters.
The basement space is a vestige of an earlier building whose construction had begun in
the 1970s but had never been completed. The entrance facade is flanked by a tall vertical
tower, topped by television antennae and containing the building’s utilities as well as the
elevators, whose movements are visible from the street.
On entering the curved reception area that links the two wings, one can see past it to a
glass-walled public restaurant, several steps down from the entranceway. The open
design—penetrated by red steel supports for the entrance canopy—allows the visitor
immediately to see all the way through to the central garden area that lies behind the
building. The steel cables and rods that support the curving glass entrance wall are
slender yet clearly visible in the central atrium of the building. The upper floor of the
concave portion of the building contains sliding-glass doors that lead from executive
offices to a terrace that offers views to the garden below and overlooks the surrounding
Westminster area.
Engineered by Ove Arup and Associates, the building is constructed on a concrete
frame with gray aluminum cladding. The Arup firm developed an innovative technique to
hang the curving glass wall from steel supports. The main structural elements are painted
the same red as the supports for the entrance canopy, and the exterior walls of the office
wings are almost fully glazed, serving two important purposes for the architect. First, it
ensures that the horizontal traffic patterns of the people inside the building are visible,
complementing the evident vertical movements of the lifts, both of which are meant to
expose and highlight the constant activity and energy of the building’s users. Second,
Rogers’s extensive use of glass walls in the Channel 4 Headquarters reveals his interest in
transparency—the glazed entrance wall, for example, functions as a screen through which
the visitor can see a series of windowed walls and glass blocks. The view is one of an
overlapping sequence of metal and glass that continues until the eye is led through the
final glazed wall of the ground-floor restaurant. Rogers intended the visitor to be drawn
toward the building by noting the dynamism of its moving elements (such as the
elevators) from afar and then visually to peel away each layer and each successive screen
by moving through the building. The use of materials that appear light allows for
complex, interpenetrating layers while still maximizing the views through and out of the
building. The visual lightness was also meant to reduce the effect of a large office
building’s being placed in an already dense area of the city.
The obvious precedent, both aesthetically and conceptually, for the Channel 4
Headquarters is Rogers’s formulation of a high-tech architecture as manifested in his
Pompidou Center in Paris (1977, designed with Renzo Piano) and the Lloyd’s Building
(1987), his only other work in central London. Although smaller than these earlier works,
the Channel 4 building reveals many of the same interests and concerns; the exposed
steelwork in all three structures, the exterior lifts in the two London buildings and the
Pompidou’s external escalators, and the flexibility of the interior spaces call to mind the
machine imagery and functionalist rhetoric of the early Modern movement. Rogers is part
of a continuum that includes early 20th-century celebrations of the machine age as well
as the futurist projects of the 1960s British collective, Archigram, whose interest in an
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adaptable architecture is paralleled in Rogers’s work. The design for the Channel 4
Headquarters includes the possibility of reworking the interior space should the building
someday serve a new tenant while still ensuring that the overall design housing the
changeable aspects remains unchanged.