Review: Kunstsilo – Culture

Already in 2015, financier and art collector Nicolai Tangen pointed to the old grain silo on Odderøya as a possible new museum in Kristiansand.

He had decided to donate his extensive collection to his hometown and was looking for premises that could house the art treasures.

To many, this seemed like a rather wild idea.

The old silo had stood and decayed for years. It was infested with birds and rats, and a mush of fermented grain residue on the floor, mixed with seawater, spread a stench that made it difficult to imagine this as a glorious museum building.

Another thing that set tempers ablaze in Kristiansand was that, although the idea came with quite generous promises of money from Tangen itself, it required substantial local grants.

Few cultural debates in Norway have had such steep fronts and such a high temperature, over such a long time, like this one.

There were phases where it looked like the process had completely stalled. But now, nine years later, the new museum is finally a reality.

A demanding exit­point

The Norwegian-Spanish architectural office Mestres Wåge Arquitectes was given the honorable task of transforming the silo into a functional museum building.

The starting point was demanding to say the least.

The technical challenges associated with the concrete work have in themselves laid broad guidelines for the design.

When the silo was completed in 1935, it was a functionalist masterpiece designed by himself Arne Korsmo in collaboration with Sverre Aasland.

The building even received an award for beautiful form. Here, the grain cylinders formed a powerful vertical contrast to the heavy, horizontal base.

Although the same two driven architects were responsible for the rebuilding in 1939, unfortunately they were unable to preserve the simple, sculptural beauty of the expression, as the number of silo tubes was to be doubled.

The powerful and varied play of shapes was replaced by a more monotonous overall expression, with the endless row of cylinders.

Monumental monotony

If I were an architect and had been given this task, I would have most probably wanted to bring the building back to its formative starting point from 1935.

However, it is easy to see that it would not have been feasible anyway.

Not only would it be both difficult and expensive, but also a lot of valuable land would be lost.

But it cannot be understated that the monumental monotony from the 1939 silo is continued to the highest degree in Mestres Wåge’s final result. In the inhuman, large volumes there is a raw, industrial beauty, but also something alienating and eerie.

Through a gradual build-up of volumes, this effect could probably be remedied to some extent and a more humane expression created. For example, I imagine that the entrance area could function as such a step-down element.

This is an opportunity that is unfortunately being missed.

A building should be legible and have its own identity visual hierarchy which can help the visitor to find his way around. Here goes the entrance­the party in one with a monotonous window­row on the ground­level.

The mechanical push­the doors look like they lead in to any purchase­center. A museum is a place for great artistic experiences.

This entrance­the party does not communicate the importance of such a building.

Welcome variety

The rhythmic play between windows and small balconies in the lower base of the silo building is largely preserved from the 1935 expression. This brings in a welcome variety that softens the eerie and monotonous character of the rest of the facade.

The architects have also chosen to restore a giant harbor crane from the 1940s which is placed in front of the building.

The idea is certainly that it should both refer to the building’s industrial function, and at the same time form a contrast to the powerful volumes in the facade.

It does to an extent, but not in a very good way.

On the contrary, I think the giant crane will be a disturbing element, which only emphasizes the inhospitable and slightly eerie feel.

Science fiction version of the Pantheon

It is a contrasting experience to walk through the soulless entrance and into the mighty foyer with its 22 meter ceiling.

Here we can stare up at giant, cut-off concrete cylinders. The heavy, massive steel girders, which are the new load-bearing element in the construction, are elegantly set into the concrete pipes.

The large circles in the ceiling form a kind of pattern that gives an almost cathedral or temple look­esque feeling: It becomes almost like a science fiction version of the Roman Pantheon.

Purely sculpturally, it is, in other words, both raw and beautiful.

The gray concrete, which has been preserved from the 1930s, has fine shading, which gives warmth and variety to the interior. Right down by the floor, the architects have preserved a strong wound edge in the concrete, where the silo pipes once opened into grain hoppers.

In this way, the architecture carries with it traces of the building’s history in a fine way.

The room above us corresponds to four whole floors.

Some might say that you are wasting space here, but without this ceiling height, the foyer would become an unbearable room to be in.

Even with all the air we have above us, the down pressure from the heavy volumes is quite noticeable. It creates a room experience that is more terrifying and fascinating than actually pleasant.

And this is basically a consistent quality of the architecture as a whole: The spectacular has consistently been prioritized over the pleasant and safe.

Even the seating furniture at the reception counters the cozy and comfortable. Here, the back volumes are turned so that they push away, rather than embrace the person sitting down.

Stunning beauty

I like that the architects have used one of the mighty concrete cylinders to incorporate a spiral staircase.

Here, too, one cultivates the dizzying beauty, the suction in the stomach and the fear of falling rather than the experience of security and stability.

Especially when looking up or down through the flight of stairs, the staircase has a sculptural elegance, but from the side it is characterized by something unresolved in terms of form.

I’m no engineer, but aesthetically I think it’s about the course of the curve creating an uncertainty. Visually, it feels as if the handrail curve forms an opposite movement of the stair body.

This could be remedied by leaving the railing elements less shiny white, so that the curve contrasts were toned down somewhat.

The museum halls are created in spacious building volumes that are folded into the silo section itself.

These parts of the museum are not characterized by either dizzying or spectacular forms.

Completely traditional showrooms have been created here.

There are good, open rooms, which are very well suited for displaying all types of art.

An enrichment for the city

A museum’s most important task is to look after and communicate the collection.

The new museum is responsible for three quite different collections, where the Tangen donation must probably be said to be the icing on the cake.

I think it is a little strange that priority has not been given to putting in place a permanent collection presentation, where the public can at any time form an impression of what kind of art the museum manages. It could have contributed to giving the new museum a clearer profile.

But that Art­silo is going to draw hordes of visitors from far and near, there is no doubt about that.

All the southerners who talked about Tangen and who raged that the tax money should be used on an elite project will probably experience that this will be a boost for both the city and the region.

The review of opening­The exhibition “Nordic passions” is published on Saturday.