Elbphilarmonie Case Study: Why Ugly Buildings Cost So D*** Much, Pt. 1
Contrary to the received wisdom that classical buildings are more expensive, I have always wondered why modernist buildings go so far over-budget.
A documentary about the Elbphilarmonie concert hall in Hamburg caught my attention last weekend. At first, I scoffed at it—modernist monster that it is—but as I listened, I realized that the program provided insights into the construction of modern buildings. I realized it would be a perfect case study as to how such plain buildings so regularly blow so far past their budget.
The documentary I watched is available, in full, on YouTube.
Since my articles up to now have been rather biting and critical, I would like to focus more on the economics and engineering problems of many modernist buildings and take a break from negativity. I will try to stay away from aesthetic critiques to myself.
I read through some comments on the building online; many wanted to attribute the €789 million markup on the original €77 million budget to rampant corruption. I won’t deny that corruption and money laundering could be responsible for some of the overinflated prices of modernist buildings. But frankly, I think the Elbphilarmonie does not need corruption to explain its costs. Further, I have no evidence beyond Reddit hearsay, which doesn’t hold up in day-to-day conversation, let alone a court of law…
Location-Schmocation
The first problem is the City and people of Hamburg picked the worst location possible: on top of an abandoned warehouse next to the busiest port in Germany. The horns of passing ships, as they demonstrate quite well in the documentary, can be heard 4 km away and can penetrate concrete. 9,000 of these ships pass through Hamburg every year. Needless to say, foghorns do not often pair well with classical music.
Moreover, the city wanted to preserve the warehouse, since it is the largest in Hamburg and occupies a prominent position on the River Elbe. A resident of the city, who also wanted to preserve the warehouse, proposed converting it into a concert hall. This was not entirely as absurd as it may sound, since the warehouse had few windows, and concert halls are one of the few types of buildings that do not care for natural light. Additionally, Hamburg was in need of a new concert hall, as its population loves classical music, yet two of its major halls were destroyed in World War II and not rebuilt.
A keen observer will note that political considerations have already saddled the concert hall with some pretty big hurdles before the architects and engineers had even laid eyes on the site. Not only will the designers have to make the acoustics perfect (an extremely difficult task1), but they will also have to soundproof the entire concert hall and fit it into an old, existing structure.
Granted, the city did not require that the concert hall sit atop the warehouse, but they did contact and select the Swiss designers of the Bird’s Nest in Beijing. This leads to the next problem.
Over-Innovation
The architects selected by the city council, as the documentary seems to suggest, were selected more for their renown and innovativeness than for their skill or record of producing beautiful buildings. This is an important distinction (for an explanation, see my previous article “Schizopolis”). Innovation is simply a fancy way of saying “never before done.” When something has never been done before, it isn’t really possible to predict its cost, potential problems, or limitations. This means an over-emphasis on innovation is a major source of cost-overrun.
Upon visiting the site, the architects Jacques Herzog and Ascon Mergenthaler immediately came up with an “innovative” design that would place the concert hall on top of the warehouse. The roof was too undulate like water, since the building would dominate the harbor. The warehouse would serve as the world’s largest “plinth” for their creation (I don’t think I need to comment on the irony of modern artists turning the past into a pedestal for their own aggrandizement). Further, the warehouse would only really serve as an entry way, as the world’s longest curved escalator would carry visitors up from ground level to the top of the warehouse and the base of the concert hall.
The architects insisted on a “vineyard” style hall to provide a more “intimate” experience for the 2,100 audience members. A vineyard-style concert hall is when the orchestra is surrounded on all sides by the audience. Sort of like the colosseum.
To sound proof the concert hall, Nagata Acoustics (a renowned Japanese acoustics consulting firm) suggested constructing two concrete envelopes around the concert hall. This is a common soundproofing technique, but it created quite a few new problems for the designers.
The Vineyard shape gave the concert hall an irregular geometry, which made the construction of the outer shell much more difficult. To illustrate: imagine you crumple a piece of paper. Now, take another piece of paper, and wrap it around the crumpled paper without touching the crumpled paper. Further, you must use as little paper for the outer layer as possible.
Additionally, since concrete pillars would transfer sound into the performing area, the inner concrete shell had to be suspended on 362 springs.
The “Vineyard” shape would have created problems regardless of the buildings location. It turns out, rectangular “shoe-box” theaters are much easier to construct with good acoustics. This is because, for each note played, the music sounds best if the listener hears an echo 10-80 milliseconds after the tone is first heard (21:28 in the documentary has a good visual). Calculating and constructing a room of the proper dimensions is much easier when the room shape is regular with flat sides, like a shoe-box.
I was also surprised to learn that the plaster ornamentation in classical theaters also helps to improve the acoustics. This is because the irregular shapes of the plaster cause the sound waves to disperse, which sustains the notes. This reverberation helps the musicians to hear themselves; it also makes the music feel more alive. Too much reverberation, however, makes the music sound muddled.
To solve these twin acoustic problems, the architects and engineers implemented three design features. First, flat surfaces precisely calculated and tested to create the perfect 10-80 millisecond echo for every seat in the house were added to the design. Next, ceiling tiles with a non-random, non-repeating pattern were algorithmically carved to properly diffuse the sound throughout the hall. These had to fit together perfectly and be laid in the exact right spot. Finally, a conical shape descended from the ceiling to reflect the sound back to the orchestra so that they can hear themselves.
The architects, it seems, took a big problem with a difficult, yet workable solution, and made it a more difficult problem. They then “fixed” it with a more expensive solution. All because they wanted the concert experience to fell more “intimate.”
Beyond the concert hall, the structure holds a cafe, a public viewing area, a 244 room luxury hotel, and 45 luxury apartments. I applaud this effort to turn a profit. However, there was no explanation in the documentary as to how the hotel or apartments were soundproofed. I have no idea if the harbor horns can be heard in the rooms or not, since the details have been kept under wraps. Additionally, since the project ran nearly €800 million over budget, these side-projects are now little more than loss-mitigators.
Finally, each window was uniquely shaped to resemble undulating waves through an alternating convex and concave pattern across all faces of the structure. This created many problems.
First, the shape was extremely difficult to form. Second, the all-glass façade meant that sunlight risked heating the interior to an uncomfortable degree. Third, glass can reflect the radar of ships, creating phantasm ships on their instruments.
Each problem was unnecessary to the structure itself. The second problem was solved by creating a polarized dot pattern on each window to reduce sunlight. The designers decided that each apartment should have a unique pattern, which meant each window had to be uniquely made. The third problem was solved by inserting reflective chromium dots into the pattern. The first problem was simply solved by force of will.
These three problems joined up to inflate the cost of each individual window to €20,000. There are 1,098 windows on the building. That means €21,960,000 was spent on windows alone; nearly one-third the original budget. The documentary did not make clear if that included labor and installation costs. I would assume it does not.
The city government was not solely responsible for this headache of a project, either. The city quite resoundingly supported the project when it was first proposed. Though as one attendee commented in the documentary, no one would have supported it if they had known upfront the true cost of the building.
Getting the acoustics of a concert hall just right is a notoriously difficult and expensive task. The sound engineers only really know if they’ve got it right after opening night. This has led to some expensive renovations immediately after opening. The Lincoln Center cost $4 million; Verizon Hall in Philadelphia required $10 million; the Sydney Opera House required $112 million.