Chaos and order in historical areas of Tallinn
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| Chaos and order in historical areas of Tallinn | |
| Epp Lankots | |
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The planning, or rather the non-planning of the Tallinn city centre and its surrounding areas over the last five years has created a strange situation in several historical and architecturally compact regions. A dissenter would say that the occasional new buildings that have sprung up without any previous planning or architectural competitions form a fascinating part of the chaotic situation: a city in a developing stage of capitalism, forever short of investments, is just the place where the usual planning rules do not hold and an architectural vision is not a condition, but a hindrance. All this is necessary in order to boost the image of Tallinn, created by our new age, as an economically rapidly developing Post-Socialist city. The only 'real' value of those constructions is probably being the object of research for social analysts and future theorists of architecture of how the city space reflects the disproportional relations between the public authorities and private interests of our time, with the latter in ascendancy.
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Tallinn still has no architectural policy, fearing that rules and regulations will create unfavourable conditions for investors. As several areas with valuable architecture or atmosphere are situated in the Tallinn city centre, being thus attractive for potential investors, it has not been possible until recently to talk about the city's interest in regulating the appearance of new buildings in the historical environment. Historical preservationists established some principles about how new architecture should suit the old surroundings, but these were rather vague, so that no discussion among the municipal authorities, the Board of Antiquities, architects and real estate developers ever followed. Over the past six months, however, progress is evident in this field - Tallinn has expressed a wish to work out specific principles about protecting the architectural environment and regulating the building activities in two historical districts. Still, it would be more to the point to analyse the current situation and the nature of the planned changes, since no results in the physical city space can be seen as yet, and it would be difficult to make any generalisations on the new architecture in the historical areas of Tallinn. An exception here is the most important heritage area - the old town of Tallinn.
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The old town is the only region in Tallinn which has been declared an area under heritage protection. It means that there are locations where new buildings are permitted - they can replace those destroyed during the last world war. Although building anything in a medieval town has always been a most delicate issue, and has always engendered fierce opposition, it must be acknowledged that it is the only district in Tallinn with at least some sort of order. Whether a gap caused by a bomb in the war is filled by a building with a modern architectural design or a pseudo-historical house, is always decided by social agreement. The modern De la Gardie department store with jointed façade, erected this year (architects Andres Alver and Tiit Trummal), was constructed, despite the criticism, according to all the rules and regulations and is of high architectural standard. Historians and critics of architecture have perhaps primarily disliked the too intriguing attitude towards trendiness, referring to the exceptional use of wood on the façade and the transparent middle section. But the old town has always been in the centre of attention, and every new building finds ardent supporters and opponents.
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As far as constructive planning principles are concerned, the situation is far worse in the historical areas around the old town. The areas of wooden houses which developed in the late 19th and early 20th centuries would be excellent dwelling districts today, mostly because of their reasonable size and abundant greenery. The Soviet planned economy, geared toward mass construction, unfortunately disregarded them completely and as a result some of these areas have by now become slums (e.g. Kopli, and parts of Kalamaja). There are also a few valuable 19th century industrial quarters in the city centre that have stood abandoned since the end of the Soviet period. Due to their excellent location they have recently started attracting investors' attention. I shall present the problems through the analysis of two cases - two different quarters in the Tallinn city centre.
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The area called the Rotermann quarter is situated between the old town, the new centre comprising department stores and hotels, and the harbour. This architecturally compact industrial quarter of limestone and brick buildings developed quite fast - from the mid 19th century to the early 20th century. Elsewhere in Europe, industry began moving away from the city centre a few dozen years ago, so that the historical districts in the centre were regenerated for the use of cultural establishments, apartments, etc. under the slogan of sustainable development. Plans were made in the 1990s to develop and build the harbour area in Tallinn, so that a new city could emerge by the sea. It is clear that the Rotermann quarter has great future prospects. The first promising step in that direction was made in the mid-1990s, when the old salt storage building was renovated into an art and architecture centre (it was initially intended to be a business centre). Later it became quite obvious that further development needed private capital, and the city began selling plots and construction rights without developing planning projects. As a result, the Rotermann quarter was indeed opened up to pedestrians, but various buildings constructed from cheap materials and of dubious architectural quality were erected in place of or between some historical buildings, as well as the high-rise Metropol Hotel. A bulky cinema will be erected at the other corner of the district (architect Andri Kirsima). If this kind of process had continued, the whole area would have resembled a chaotic back yard, rather than an active city centre. The city would also have become less attractive to tourists. The haphazard building process has now been halted. For the first time in the new Republic of Estonia we can talk about architectural principles in an historical environment outside the old town. The Rottermann quarter should become an interesting city centre with cultural establishments, clubs, restaurants, cafes, and shops at the busy street level and flats on upper floors. Part of the old buildings will be retained exactly as they are and will be renovated (e.g. the old granary); some buildings can only retain their façade, and transparent annexes or sub-buildings are permitted. Passages and galleries between the houses are possible. The new buildings must be consciously differentiated from the old, and follow a perimetral housing development and an even street-line, in order to create a network of streets and a small inner-district city square.
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Another district worth examining is a small green dwelling area right in the heart of Tallinn. The quarter between Süda and Tatari streets began acquiring its present architectural appearance in the late 19th century and developed fully in the early 20th century. In character, the Süda-Tatari quarter is somewhere between Kalamaja - which was and is an area of poorer residents - and Kadriorg, which has both villas and once modern apartments. Kadriorg has smaller houses, as well as dwellings once boasting art nouveau elements with larger flats, and more modest wooden buildings. Throughout the ages, this has been a popular area for the intelligentsia. The streets are densely housed, and there are plenty of peaceful courtyards. The area is located between two very busy main streets, Liivalaia and Pärnu Road.
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The real estate developers in Estonia have spotted the potential attraction of dwellings in historical districts, but they are actually doing great damage to these areas from the point of view of future prospects, because the real estate market is not presently able to regulate the survival of an historical atmosphere. In Süda Street, for example, a seven-storey concrete dwelling and commercial building with a tin-plated façade (architect Ain Padrik) has quietly appeared between two green and extensive plots of land. It covers almost the entire plot. This is no longer the case of an investor's ignorance or stupidity, but of supreme cynicism: the real estate company selling the property is promoting it as a house, boasting all modern conveniences which crowns the whole neighbourhood with its original aura. An analogous case is the Ilmarine quarter close to Kalamaja by the sea. Several-storey high buildings, closely pocked, with gabled roofs, small windows and tin-plate facades are supposed to represent the so-called vernacular, continuing the Kalamaja building tradition. The understanding that such bulky structures would destroy everything that actually makes the Süda-Tatari quarter unique, has initiated a process which should be able to guarantee the protection and construction principles of the area. The Süda-Tatari buildings are relatively varied, thus forming a diverse environment. A few yards even boast the so-called 'hanging gardens' or greenery and trees growing on terraces. If a house in really bad condition is demolished, then the replacement ought to be similarly small and low, and the courtyard should be designed as exclusively two-level, including roof-gardens. And it would be the ideal place for wooden architecture with a modern design, practically non-existent in Estonia at the moment.
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So far, no guiding principles have been established for supplementing the historical environment with new architecture. An historical building has too often been an unpleasant duty or excessive expense for the owner, better demolished. The two analysed cases give hope for some order in the prevailing chaos. Contemporary buildings, on the other hand, cheaply erected in order to earn quick profit, may paradoxically find themselves, in a few dozen years or so, in a situation where it would be profitable to demolish them, because they are too alien to the neighbourhood, both aesthetically and environmentally.
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| Estonian Art 2/99 (6) | Published by the Estonian Institute 1999 | ISSN 1406-5711 | einst@einst.ee | tel: (372) 631 43 55 | fax: (372) 631 43 56 | |
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