by Heinrich Tessenow
The effects of counterpoint and mutual response inherent in symmetry are among the most striking when considering geometric patterns and their decorative applications, even in architecture. Sometimes these effects arise almost automatically through the interplay of transformations applied to basic modular elements. In his essay Hausbau und dergleichen (Elementary Observations on Building, 1916) - from which we have previously presented the chapter titled Ornament - Heinrich Tessenow also devotes several pages to symmetry, understood as the primary form of constructive regularity. A modern and pragmatic architect, yet rooted in classical compositional logic and the artisanal tradition that makes it practically feasible, Tessenow focuses on the divisions of facades, illustrating patterns and stylistic examples valid for every era. Aware of the appeal of the axis of symmetry, he suggests uses that are not literal but concealed, in which visual unity is fragmented and harmoniously recomposed. His ideas would become highly relevant in the 1930s, when the Rationalist school would reclaim many references to the classical and monumental tradition, and in some respects they represent a foreshadowing of the postmodernist poetics of the late 20th century. See H. Tessenow, Hausbau und dergleichen, Bruno Cassirer, Berlin 1916, pp. 32-38.
It may seem ridiculous to dwell on the idea that a certain degree of regularity is appropriate for daily life and craftsmanship, but we certainly recognize its importance. All the more strange, then, is the fear that always seizes us suddenly when, in connection with craftsmanship, we must address issues related to either order or regularity; in such circumstances, we immediately set about demonstrating that regularity is not always the most positive thing. But the fact is that we almost never strive for what is positive in an absolute sense, but rather almost always for what is better; and in general, in everyday life and in craftsmanship, adherence to a standard and regularity are undoubtedly better than disorder.
(Ultimately, everything is more or less orderly or regular, so that in practice it can only be a matter of regularity, perhaps simple and crude, or disorder).
Something that is not, at least to some extent, even if only in a simple or crude way, regular, or at the very least comprehensible and communicable, may well be something very profound or very beautiful; but if we bring this something out into the public sphere or – as we more or less do with every piece of craftsmanship – if we return it to the community, it will appear empty, invariably degenerate into mere form, and be worth no more to us than any random piece of wood we happen to find on our path. In any case, it is true that any craft or architectural work of value always openly reveals its collective character; it therefore undoubtedly places great value on the simple forms of regularity; this demonstrates the great significance that formal regularity holds in every work of craftsmanship, even the most elementary, such as the use of the straight line, the rectangle, the circle, the 90° angle, the horizontal line, the vertical line, etc., (and this is especially true in architecture; because among the crafts, it is the one most closely linked to the collective element).
Symmetry, too, is one of the simple forms of formal regularity, and we can never truly grasp the genuine spirit and true essence of any work of craftsmanship without also deeply loving symmetry.
If we try to draw up a floor plan of a house in its entirety based on the pure and simple principle of practicality, and if we always follow this principle in determining and arranging the individual rooms, placing windows where they provide the best lighting, and so on, the house will certainly appear, in all its parts, irregular and asymmetrical; the same can be said of many other types of craftsmanship, or rather, of all of them. When a relentless impulse drives us to seek practicality and functionality in everything, we invariably end up conceiving everything in a distorted and disorderly manner.
When we consider symmetry, we notice that our attention is always and above all drawn to the central line or axis of symmetry (just as a circle always prompts us to seek out its center); when we treat a flat surface according to a symmetrical order but do not pay sufficient attention, we may later notice that we have not strayed in the slightest from the center or the axis, and it is for this reason that symmetry is often so unpleasantly rigid.
If we mechanically follow the force expressed by the axis of symmetry, this will ultimately lead us to draw the axis as a line – drawing 1 – within the symmetrical surface; at this point – drawing 2 – the symmetry appears absolutely rigid, inert, and broken, since we have divided the original symmetrical surface into two symmetrical surfaces.
Let’s move slightly away from the axis of symmetry and, once we’re away from it, introduce new figures, as in drawing 3: our interest in the axis remains strong, but our attention is now divided between the axis and the new figures, and our gaze shifts back and forth between them, so that the whole composition suddenly comes to life. This effect can be further enhanced by moving the new figures as far away from the axis as possible, giving them greater prominence, as in drawing 4, for example.The arrangement of the individual shapes clustered around the axis of symmetry, as in drawing 5, once again reveals a yielding to the authority of the axis and therefore tends to be rigid; one immediately notices something inert or empty, despite the complexity of the forms involved, whereas a symmetrical composition of the surface – as in drawing 6 – enriched by the inclusion of some lateral figures, expresses the order of a restrained gesture. In a building, the axis of symmetry, which always runs vertically, tends to draw all attention to itself; this can be effectively balanced by creating horizontal lines, where it is necessary to concentrate a certain number of forms on the vertical axis. The resulting symmetrical rigidity can be eliminated by horizontal lines given particular emphasis, as shown in Figures 7 and 8; to tell the truth, however, the horizontal lines in this case act like a strong medicine – that is, they have such a violent effect that they almost completely erase the subtler effect of the axis of symmetry, or deprive it of all interest, as in drawing 9, which must be viewed in contrast to drawing 10.
When, for a particular reason, we wish to emphasize the axis of symmetry – as in drawings 5 and 11 – we often link the first image with a second one that is symmetrical to it, as in drawing 12; we then shift our gaze from one axis to the other, which has the same power of attraction as the first, resulting in a very rich overall image that nevertheless remains firmly held together by the main axis. Ultimately, the union of two figures gives rise to a new symmetrical image – as in drawing 6 – whose axis remains invisible; yet the fact that such a double structure places so much emphasis on details lends the whole an extraordinary power, which remains highly restrained without becoming irrelevant. This effect is particularly beautiful and clear, for example, in many ancient churches with twin towers. In particular, the sense of rigid severity that Gothic towers sometimes express with their highly accentuated verticality is balanced by the addition of a second, identical tower next to the first; or that sense of harsh presence so often found in Gothic towers when they stand alone can be tempered by a sudden horizontal shift in the lines at the very top, as is the case, for example, with those towers that remained unfinished.
Symmetry will be all the better the harder it is to make out the axis.
Above: The Festspielhaus in Hellerau (Dresden), built in 1911 on a project by Heinrich Tessenow and fully restored between 1995 and 2006, in a photo from 2013 (Stephan Floss/Wikimedia). Below: Reproduction of pages 32–38 from Heinrich Tessenow’s book "Hausbau und Dergleichen", Bruno Cassirer, Berlin 1916 (www.archive.org).
