Dessau - The Golden Age of The Bauhaus
Most of you may not have heard of Dessau, but it is a sacred place for generations of artists and architects. This industrial city of sixty-five thousand may not be photogenic, but it was the one stop I looked forward to the most. Dessau was the home of the Bauhaus from 1925 to 1932. These six years represent the golden age of the Bauhaus and one of the most consequential periods in Modernism. Even if you have never heard of the Bauhaus, its influences are far-reaching and it is everywhere we turn in our day-to-day lives. But despite its historical significance, Dessau is seldom on visitors’ itineraries.
After being expelled from its home in Weimar, the Bauhaus found a new home in Dessau, where the city’s left-wing city council was more receptive to the school’s avant-garde philosophy. More importantly, Dessau has been a center of manufacturing since the industrialization in the late 19th century. The most notable industrial plant here was Junkers Aircraft and Engine Works, which was Germany’s leading aircraft manufacturer and armament supplier. Founder/director Walter Gropius always envisioned the union between art and industry as the ultimate ideal for the Bauhaus. In contrast to the aristocratic Weimar, Dessau presented an attractive alternative.
Dessau Bauhaus Main Building
Without any doubt, the most worthwhile stop in Dessau is the Bauhaus’s Main Building. When Dessau’s mayor, Fritz Hesse, invited Bauhaus to his city, Gropius worked quickly to design a purpose-built complex for the school. Because the Bauhaus did not have an architecture department yet, the design was done by Gropius’ private practice. The construction took just over a year to complete, crystallizing his vision for an ideal educational complex. While Haus am Horn in Weimar was the Bauhaus’s first building, the campus complex was the first building that distilled the school’s architectural visions.
Located a few miles away from central Dessau, the campus complex was organized in a pinwheel pattern with five building wings. The most iconic among them is the Workshop Wing, which bears the Bauhaus sign that has become the most recognizable physical symbol of the Bauhaus. We were lucky that the building facade was fresh off a multi-year restoration. Having seen this building in so many architectural history textbooks over the years, I had pinched myself standing in front of this great building. That said, the weather was far from ideal during our visit. I can’t help being disappointed that I didn't get my once-in-a-lifetime money shot.
Architecturally, the Workshop Wing is most renowned for its three-story glass curtain wall. While glass curtain walls are commonplace in the 21st century, it was revolutionary in the 1920s. Gropius had previously employed a similar system more than a decade earlier at the Fagus Factory, which is a UNESCO World Heritage Site in its own right. By relocating the reinforced concrete structure inward, the exterior glass envelope can run uninterrupted through three floors and allow for maximum daylighting for studio activities. The disengagement between the structure and the exterior envelope opened up endless possibilities for the next generation of architects.
The glass curtain wall may have many benefits, but the Bauhaus’s early iterations were far from energy efficient. The single-pane glazing and the absence of thermal breaks meant the building needed to employ other strategies, such as thick draperies, to regulate temperature better. An incendiary bomb hit the Workshop Wing during the Allies’ raid on Dessau in 1945. The original curtain walls were all but destroyed and were hastily rebuilt with conventional wooden windows. The city put up masonry walls and subdivided the open-plan workshop space into an administrative office. The once innovative structure was transformed into another drab post-war building.
In the post-war era, the socialist GDR began to rehabilitate the reputation of the Bauhaus and recognized its importance. It became a listed heritage building in 1964. All in all, the campus complex underwent a series of refurbishments in 1955, 1962, and 1965. However, the glass curtain walls were not restored until 1976, the 50th anniversary of the Bauhaus’s arrival in Dessau. The reconstruction utilized aluminum mullions instead of steel. After the building’s inscription as a UNESCO World Heritage Site, a comprehensive restoration in 2011 finally completely rebuilt the curtain wall in steel.
The most intriguing part of the Bauhaus curtain walls is the ingenious pulley mechanism used for operating the windows. A single person can manage a series of windows up high with ease, all at once. On a sunny day, these rotating windows could create dazzling reflections on the nearby surfaces. For anyone with some flexibility in their travel, I would advise against visiting Dessau on overcast days. Since the weather was a little dicey during my visit, the architect within me was already planning a slight detour on the returning leg of the trip if the weather was glorious. As much as I loved the Bauhaus, I don’t think there will be another trip.
Within the campus complex, the most privileged perch was the overhead bridge connecting the Workshop Wing to the Department of Arts and Crafts. The two-story ridge floats above the roadway and houses the administrative office of Walter Gropius and his architectural office. According to contemporary accounts, he would stand at the bridge and survey the coming and going of students and staff. Funny enough, the setup looked remarkably like the Fashion Institute of Technology in New York City, a place Brian and I know all so well.
Besides the exhibition at the Workshop Wing, the rest of the complex seemed eerily empty. I was pretty surprised by how much of the building complex we could roam without guides. Wandering the empty halls also allowed us to appreciate the building’s tectonic quality. What struck us the most was the abundant use of bold primary colors on the interiors. Although we now often associate Bauhaus architecture with a monochromatic palette in white stucco and black steel, the early Bauhaus was very interested in the emotive power of colors and is part of its famous Preliminary Course, developed by Johannes Itten.
The color scheme in the building interior was the work of the headmaster of Bauhaus’s mural workshop: Hinnerk Scheper. The bold colors provide way-finding and help define different surfaces. The overall color palette was bold and bombastic, which is far outside of the comfort zone of most modernist architects today. Together with his wife, Lou Scheper, he later published a thesis in Moscow, Advisory Centre for Colour in Architecture and the Cityscape, which remained influential for generations of architects. Since the original colors and configurations were lost, it took restorers a decade to search for and restore them to the original colors.
Similar to the Bauhaus-Universität Weimar, visitors must join a guided tour to visit the director’s office, which has also been restored to Gropius’s original design. Three years after relocating to Dessau, Gropius resigned partly due to ineffective leadership and partly to pursue his own architectural practice. In the short time he was in Dessau, the political climate shifted rightward, just as in Weimar five years earlier. The Bauhaus once again came under pressure, with many prominent faculty members coming under criticism from the city councilors. So it is ironic that Gropius’ successor was Hannes Meyer, a Swiss architect and an avowed Marxist.
Under Meyer’s leadership, the Bauhaus became increasingly political and was accused by the city of actively promoting communism inside the school. Despite his socialist philosophy, Meyer turned out to be a better manager for Bauhaus, financially speaking. Unlike Gropius, Meyer understood the value of the Bauhaus’ brand and the importance of managing the intellectual properties. He was also successful in bringing the Bauhaus design closer to industrial manufacturers. The early Bauhaus prototypes were deemed too expensive and not accessible to the masses. Previously favored materials under Gropius and Breuer, such as tubular steel, were expensive for ordinary people and were replaced by wood under Meyer’s leadership. This new focus on affordability created a new energy in the Bauhaus.
While Meyer seemed radical, his philosophy is still in alignment with Gropius’s motto: Art and Technology - A New Unity.” Meyer regarded pure artistic pursuits as a luxury only for the bourgeoisie class. Designing for the people became the primary objective under Meyer. The most successful products for mass production were wallpapers created by the weaving workshop run by the female students. He also believed furniture ought to be light, flexible, and collapsible, to maximize its value. Many furniture pieces from this period could be considered the forerunners of the IKEA products we know and rely on today.
Meyer actually came to Bauhaus first as the appointed head of the new Building (Architecture) Workshop. An accomplished architect, he was the one who realized Gropius’s vision for placing architecture as the pinnacle of the Bauhaus education. He won two of the most significant architectural commissions of the Bauhaus: an apartment complex in Dessau and the ADGB Trade Union School outside Berlin. These architectural works all share a socialist undertone with emphasis on the collective and equity.
Hannes Meyer’s contributions to the Bauhaus also extend to the educational framework. He was a follower of the Swiss education reformer, Johann Heinrich Pestalozzi. The workshops were reorganized to encourage collaboration within smaller learning groups. Students from different years would work on a project together in what is called the “vertical brigades”. He also broadened students’ studies beyond the design fields to include topics such as philosophy, sociology, and psychology. While Gropius is very interested in the objects, Meyer saw cross-disciplinary design research to be just as important. It is an educational legacy that is still evident in most architecture schools today.
By all accounts, Meyer’s tenure could be considered the golden age for the Bauhaus. Not only was the school more financially stable, but the student community was also more engaging. However, his unabashed socialist views ran counter to the political winds of the day. While Gropius had always attempted to shield the Bauhaus from politics, Meyer actively promoted communist organization within the school and was accused of diverting education funds toward political activities. The mayor of Dessau dismissed him without notice in 1930 and appointed architect Mies van der Rohe as the successor. Meyer left Germany for the Soviet Union and ultimately became an unabashed Stalinist, causing a rift with many members of the Bauhaus.
As a heritage site, the Bauhaus campus complex now operates as a museum and is devoid of the youthful energy of a university. Some art historians and cultural critics still wished the Bauhaus buildings could return to their original purpose as a university. The empty hallway of the Bauhaus felt melancholic and haunting. Maybe I was unduly influenced by the weather of the day; the overall mood here was somber, which should be the opposite of the exuberant energy that embodies the Bauhaus education.
One of the best ways to experience the Bauhaus is to spend a night on campus. Located at the northeastern edge of the complex is Preller House, the studio wing. Its iconic balconies are another emblem of Bauhaus Dessau, made famous by László Moholy-Nagy’s photo. The five-story wing was not part of Gropius’s original design and was added later to serve as the student dormitory. It was actually Germany’s first purpose-built university housing for students. Comprised of twenty-three studios, the building has a communal kitchen and bath facilities on each level. The dormitory exemplifies the live-work culture that is embedded in most of the architecture schools.
Given the dearth of quality accommodations in Dessau, staying at one of these historical dormitory rooms may be well worth the relatively high nightly rate. The interiors are fully restored to their original conditions with reproductions of the Bauhaus furniture and wall color schemes. The sparse interiors may not be to everyone’s taste, but how often could you stay at a genuine Bauhaus building and a world heritage site? Because the guests would be quite a self-selected group, it might be fun to get acquainted with fellow art and design enthusiasts.
Bauhaus Museum Dessau
To celebrate the centenary of the founding of the Bauhaus in 2019, the Bauhaus Dessau Foundation inaugurated a gleaming new museum showcasing its massive collections. Bauhaus Museum Dessau is located in central Dessau, a part of the city that visitors would have likely bypassed otherwise. Evidently, the museum remained quite popular even at six years old, as timed reservation is still recommended on busier days. It was heartening to see the staying power of the Bauhaus brand, particularly among the German public. For design enthusiasts, the museum and other Bauhaus sites in Dessau are covered by either the Bauhaus Card or the World Heritage Card.
The museum’s permanent exhibition is located on the second level. Like its counterpart in Weimar, this museum does not merely focus on Bauhaus’s time in Dessau, but the whole arch of its history beyond the school’s ultimate dissolution in 1933. As expected, artifacts from the Weimar period tended to be more artistically experimental and expressive. The most popular items on exhibit were the unorthodox costumes from Oskar Schlemmer’s avant-garde Triadic Ballet. The peculiarity of these early designs reflected the wholesale rethinking of art education through the Preliminary Course. Behind the child-like appearance is the optimism behind the early years of Weimar Germany.
The massive central hall is organized in two parallel rows of exhibits. In the middle are drawers and drawers of architectural drawings for Bauhaus architecture, both built and unrealized. As an architect, I hate to admit that these plans and the scaled models are the least interesting part of the whole exhibit. For design lovers, the Bauhaus is most synonymous with industrial design. No other object is more emblematic of the pursuit of modernity than chairs. From the iconic Cesca Chair to the surprisingly uncomfortable Wassily Chair by Marcel Breuer, the Bauhaus chairs are exercises in material exploration and industrial efficiency.
The focus on mass production kicked into high gear when Hannes Meyer assumed directorship. As mentioned earlier, wood became the favored material during this period due to its affordability and flexibility. On exhibit are numerous pieces that seemingly came out of the IKEA product catalogue. Josef Albers’s Chair 244 was designed to be flat-packed like the POÄNG armchair. Breuer’s children's tables are nearly an exact copy of the famous LACK side table. Meyer’s vision for democratic design was ultimately fulfilled by multinational behemoths like IKEA, an irony that would surely surprise him today.
Having been to the Bauhaus museum in Weimar, it is difficult for me to say which museum is better. Overall, the Dessau museum is laid out more thematically, making it perhaps more approachable for beginners. The museum in Dessau has a more encyclopedic approach to presenting its collection, which could be overwhelming. There was no emphasis on a few particularly iconic Bauhaus objects. Rather, the curator hopes to present a comprehensive overview across the school‘s different workshops and time periods.
The museum’s core collection originated from 148 Bauhaus objects purchased from Galerie am Sachsenplatz in 1976, and gradually grew to over 50,000 objects. The third and last gallery focuses on the Bauhaus’s influences abroad and how the school’s philosophy and works were perceived internationally. While the Bauhaus is now universally praised for its contributions to modernity, it was not always well-received in the 1930s. On exhibit is a letter from the director of MoMA criticizing the Bauhaus for the financial loss MoMA incurred from hosting a Bauhaus exhibition.
Nearly a century after the Bauhaus was expelled from Dessau, the Bauhaus was once again at the crosshairs of politics. Just last year, the far-right Alternative for Germany (AfD) introduced a resolution in the State Parliament of Saxony-Anhalt to reevaluate the Bauhaus’s legacies in a more critical view. While such a statement could be considered reasonable, the resolution went on to accuse the Bauhaus of committing “architectural sin” up until today. According to the statement, the Bauhaus’s advocacy for minimalism and absolutist functionality leads to “inhumane” conditions in social housing and civic buildings.
The party further denounced the Bauhaus for advocating international conformity at the expense of traditional German character. Citing Hannes Meyer, they also characterise the Bauhaus as a dangerous ideological tool of communism. By implying the Bauhaus as a “globalist” project, AfD adopted familiar language that the Nazihad used against the Bauhaus a century ago. For a party that is sometimes associated with German neo-Nazi, the rhetoric is particularly alarming. Thankfully, their resolution was widely denounced and soundly defeated in the state parliament. Given the Bauhaus’s international profile and the economic importance to Dessau, it was bizarre that AfD would mount such a surprise assault on the Bauhaus.
Politics aside, I could understand why AfD’s sentiment could be widespread among the public. Case in point is the Bauhaus Museum itself. Designed by the Spanish firm Addenda Architects, the gleaming museum building is essentially a massive block with mirror curtain walls. While it is a tribute to Bauhaus’s towering legacy and decidedly inoffensive, the design does seem soulless and austere. As much as I am a fan of the Bauhaus and modernism, I could generally empathize with those who prefer traditional architecture. That said, claiming the Bauhaus as un-German is not only ludicrous, but they also overlook the historical complexities.
Fair or not, the Bauhaus has been a topic of contention and a target of the political right in recent years. In 2018, the Bauhaus Dessau Foundation canceled a planned concert of left-wing punk band Feine Sahne Fischfilet because of a threat of counterprotest from far-right and neo-Nazi groups. The foundation got a lot of criticism from the German public for caving into right-wing demands, which some believe to be contrary to the Bauhaus’s ethic. At the same time, the foundation’s mission was to preserve the physical archive and the Bauhaus buildings. The primary concern was to avoid damage from potential riots.
The conflicts between traditional architecture and modernism were glaring just outside the Bauhaus museum. Because Dessau was a major industrial town during the Third Reich, it was heavily bombarded by the Allied forces. Much of the historic center was flattened and reconstructed in a utilitarian modern style typical of the GDR times. It was not until recent years that many historical buildings were rebuilt or restored. Strolling around the city center, I could imagine why people would be down on the modern architecture. At the end of the day, good architecture comes in all styles and vice versa.
Master Houses
Besides the campus complex, the most worthwhile stop in Dessau is the four Masters’ Houses, which are a ten-minute walk away. Built as the residence for the masters of the Bauhaus workshops, these buildings were also the showcase of Bauhaus architecture. They were commissioned by the city and consisted of three identical semi-detached houses and one detached house. Designed by Walter Gropius, the houses were very generous in size. Among the original occupants were Lyonel Feininger, László Moholy-Nagy, Oskar Schlemmer, Georg Muche, Wassily Kandinsky, Paul Klee, and Walter Gropius himself.
The most important legacy of the Bauhaus was not its particular designs or products, but a generation of teachers who went on to teach art and design around the world. So it is only natural that the Bauhaus treated the various masters with generous and innovative accommodations. These buildings are regarded as the prototype of “white modernism,” which is now synonymous with the Bauhaus architecture. Gropius utilizes prefabricated concrete blocks for construction and incorporates numerous built-in furniture and cabinets, which were avant-garde at the time. Other innovations, such as plug sockets inset into the floor, were meant to showcase the possibility of modern living.
While these houses were luxurious and comfortable in their times, they were far from secluded family homes. Dessau drew constant streams of cultural titans, ranging from famed art collector Solomon R. Guggenheim to composer Béla Bartók. Lyonel Feininge famously complained that between guests and the gawking public, there was not a moment of peace living in the Masters’ Houses. As an architectural showcase, the passerbys would tresspass into the garden to take a peek inside, just like today.
The houses are composed of a series of cubic volumes with a series of carefully placed windows. Facing the street are upper studio spaces with an expansive curtain wall. The most unique feature, however, is the full-height windows running the entire height of each staircase. The three semi-detached homes have identical layouts but differ slightly in their interior furnishing and color schemes. While all the houses have white stucco exteriors and black steel windows, the interiors are brightly colored. The saturated colors serve to define different architectural planes and functions. They may not be as exuberant as Gerrit Rietveld’s Rietveld Schröder House in Utrecht, but the cross-influences between the Bauhaus and De Stijl are unmistakable.
Since 2016, one of the semi-detached house has been the home to artists in the Bauhaus Dessau Foundation artist residency program. Being able to live inside a Masters’ House is surely one of the most coveted perks of the residency. Since natural light and textures are such a fundamental part of modern architecture, spending a full year inside the house would allow one to really appreciate the interaction between light, surfaces, and colors. At the same time, these artists must also content with strongs of tourists at their doorsteps.
After the Bauhaus’s departure in 1932, all the Masters’ Houses were rented as private homes with makeshift modifications. Two of the houses burned down during the air raid in 1945. Gropius’s house was demolished and replaced with a traditional gabled house on top of the existing foundation. After the German reunification, the rest of the houses were designated as historical monuments and gradually refurbished to their former glory. However, there were also discussions about whether to reconstruct the two destroyed houses. At the suggestion of British architect David Chipperfield, the foundation decided to “rebuild” them in the spirit of the original.
Such a difficult and prestigious commission was given to Berlin architect Bruno Fioretti Marquez. The building followed the outlines of Gropois' originals, including the placements of fenestrations. Described by the architect as “memory in blur,” the new structures are constructed as a monolithic insulated concrete shell with frosted picture windows. The internal layouts are reimagined to create a series of dramatic spaces that flow seamlessly from one level to another. The white-washed minimalist interior is beautiful if not a little sterile. I hate to say it, but I definitely prefer the sleek minimalist space to the Bauhaus originals.
For me, the most intriguing building at the Masters’ Houses was not these homes, but a little kiosk around the corner from the Director’s House. This unassuming structure is the only work by Ludwig Mies van der Rohe in Dessau. Mies was the third and final director of Bauhaus and went on to become one of the three titans of modern architecture, alongside Frank Lloyd Wright and Le Corbusier. This little refreshment stand was created at the suggestion of the city’s planning office, and it might just be the most humble building designed by the great master. Reopened as a kiosk in 2016, this spot was surprisingly popular with visitors during the summer months. I do wonder how many patrons realize its architectural significance.
Kornhaus Dessau
Besides the Campus Complex and the Master’s Houses, the Bauhaus also left behind quite a few noteworthy buildings, such as the Dessau-Törten Housing Estate and the Employment Office. Fans of the Bauhaus could easily spend two days in Dessau. Since we have relatively limited time, I decided to visit one more place. Located on the south bank of the Elbe River, Kornhaus is a lovely restaurant and one of the loveliest Bauhaus buildings in the city. At the same time, the building is relatively unknown and very accessible.
This charismatic restaurant came about from a 1929 design competition sponsored by the city and a local brewery. The winning design was from Carl Fieger, a disciple of Walter Gropius. Fieger worked for Gropius’ private practice and participated in the design of the Fagus Factory and the campus complex. It is celebrated not just because of its riverfront location, but also its unorthodox shapes. The building is supposed to resemble a steamship, with a semi-circular room with a floor and ceiling curtain wall and recessed foundations. The circular glass wall was innovative for its time. The room was originally an outdoor balcony, but was soon enclosed to take advantage of the panoramic views of the river.
The building was temporarily used as a military hospital during World War II. Like other Bauhaus sites, it gradually gained historical recognition during the GDR era and underwent several refurbishments, with the original color schemes restored in 1976. The teal and red colors on the exterior are supposed to be nautical. While the interiors were relatively muted, the color palette was nevertheless unmistakably Bauhaus. The building underwent a comprehensive and historical renovation in 1996 and ultimately reopened as a restaurant in 2012. Despite having a modest rating online, Kornhaus appeared to be a very popular restaurant among tourists and locals alike. The place was booked out for dinner during our visit.