AZA 2010
I had a conversation about the city with a friend of mine, Werner Kirchoff, the other day. He told me how in his youth he had carved the bases of the flag spires of Anglo Americans stately head office at 45 Main Street.
Standing on Main Street, between the imposing buildings of 44 and 45 there is an overwhelming feeling of permanence, capitalist power, European empire and African history. This is the South African Base of the largest gold mining company in the world! The mall between the buildings is spotless. Apart from the occasional corporate employee darting to an urgent meeting, the street is silent. These stately buildings seem to have existed for millennia, yet I was talking to someone who crafted these monuments in his lifetime.
The conversation highlighted the fact that our Architectural history in Johannesburg is relatively speaking, exceptionally young. The oldest surviving building (in the broadest sense of the term) in the city, the Rissik Street Post Office, built in 1885, is by international standards an infant.
Yet Johannesburg is a rapidly expanding, morphing, shifting, vibrant city. In its short lifetime is has witnessed change and uncertainty which belie the citie’s youth.
Established in 1886, the ZAR government of the time had little faith in the mining camps longevity. By 1889 the reef gave way to rotten pyretic ore which refused to yield any gold –Johannesburg panicked, mines became unprofitable and mining shares crashed almost overnight. ‘’grass will grow on the streets of Johannesburg’’ declared a young mining executive – Percy Fitzpatrick.
History proved otherwise. By 1893, The Goldfields Company of South Africa sent hopes soaring with the announcement that shafts could be sunk to a depth of 5 thousand feet. Johannesburg was saved, its future secured.
The citie’s detractors have been putting nails in Johannesburg’s coffin for over a century – the partial collapse of the CBD in late 80s and white flight to the perceived safety of Sandton and the North is only a more recent chapter in Johannesburg’s chequered history.
My mother used to push me in my pram around the shopping level at Ponte City. Ponte was the embodiment of urban hip- the place to be- the best address in town! –in my lifetime Ponte has transformed into a monument to urban decay, crime, white fear, urban legend, and the unclaimed, unexplored unknown.
Yet how is the contemporary city different to the city our parents knew and largely abandoned? The city our grandparents and great grandparents created.
When I tell people I own the penthouse in the old art deco Ansteys building, reactions span a broad spectrum.
I’m going to make a generalisation and stereotype groups of people and their perceptions of the city, its history and potential.
There are the urban nostalgists, people from my grandparents generation - they are enthralled- reminiscing about the city they remember. The elegant Art Deco buildings of Johannesburg; their impossible sky scraping height soaring above the bustling city side walks.
Conversation inevitably turns to Smokers Corner, the legendary tobacconist with an island shop at Manners Mansions. Shopping at Stuttafords, or John Orrs, and tea on the 4th floor terrace of Ansteys. The lift operators – announcing the different departments from floor to floor, gentlemen in suits and ladies in hats and gloves.
Elegant department stores and window shopping on Eloff Street after a night at His Majesties, or under the stars at the Coliseum. Office workers taking lunch in Oppenheimer Park, with the bronze impala fountain and listening to the clock at the Rissik Street Post office chiming every hour.
Johannesburg was the city of privilege and exclusion. Access by elements deemed undesirable, was heavily restricted – privilege of the few at the expense of the masses.
However, a rich and inclusive social history emerges from this time.
Johannesburg is the city where Nelson Mandela and Oliver Tambo practised law from Chancellor House; Joe Slovo had offices at His Majesties. The Playwright and anti apartheid activist Cecil Williams, who was arrested together with Nelson Mandela in1962, had a penthouse at Ansteys. Johannesburg was the city of the young Mahatma Gandhi, his passive resistance movement was born virtually across the road from the current 45 Main Building.
Most of my grandparent’s generation have not been near town in 30 years. They assume I must be a very successful architect to have a city penthouse, and that my neighbours are all successful bankers or movie stars – I do own the ex chairman of the Johanesburg Stock Exchanges Manhattan style residence. It’s better that these people don’t visit the city again. Their city exisits solely as a memory, real and vivid, it lives with them.
His Majesties is now a Discom, the lavish marble foyer replaced by banks of tills and cheap ceramic tiles, The Coliseum was demolished in the 80’s, Stuttafords is a stripped out shell, The famous Ansteys department store windows are now ‘dressed’ in dirty steel roller shutters. The Rissik Street Post Office owned by the city, was gutted by fire last November. Solid restoration plans have yet to materialise. The impala fountain in Oppenheimer Park has been evacuated to the safety of the much gentrified financial district. Yet you can still feel the energy of greatness, past and future - history lives in the city!
Then there is the urban pessimist, probably from my parent’s generation. This generation is generally surprised that anyone would still want to inhabit or invest capitol in a city that they left for dead, and abandoned decades ago. Johannesburg is perceived as a no go zone. The CBD for them automatically means the faux city – Sandton, Montecasino, Melrose Arch. They subscribe to the urban nostalgist view of the ideal Johannesburg, the heavily regulated, controlled, monitored, sanitised capitol of an apartheid state.
The American economist and social scientist Mancur Olson noted that the decline of regions is the result of an organizational and cultural hardening of the arteries, which he called “institutional Sclerosis”. Places that grow up and prosper in one era, find it difficult and often impossible to adapt to new organizational and cultural patterns. Consequently, innovation and growth shift to new places.
Rather than engage in the transformation of Johannesburg into a multicultural diverse post apartheid city, these people decamped, shifting to new decentralised cities. Rather than address new realities, they simply designed them away. In a society where public space could no longer be controlled, it was simply eradicated. Ready made cities were created, void of authentic historical context and without reference to an awkward but important history. Bunkers, with no relationship to the street or public environment. New access controlled and monitored high streets designed, facades of an unreal unlived history connecting unspecific areas to non existent communities. History is recreated along nostalgist ideals, sanitised pseudo historic cities, cut and pasted at will. Perhaps archaeologists finding the remains of Montecasiono or Fourways will assume that Johannesburg had in fact been conquered by Tuscan colonists! Are we so uncomfortable with addressing and dealing with our country’s history that we create a faux one to mask our true past? Maphela Ramphele speaks of the African custom of calling a ghost by its name to lay it to rest – contemporary South Africans seem to simply deny our ghosts ever existed.
Ill call the last group of people the new urbanites. These largely fall into my generation, although there are notable exceptions.
Viewing the city as a vibrant minefield of potential, craving real experiences, in genuine, unique environments rich in history and context.. These people want to experience real life in a genuine city. This is a move away from previous attempts to recreate pseudo environments, void of context and history, cities in the suburbs.
Authenticity comes form various aspects of an environment: historic buildings, established neighbourhoods, local culture. It is present in the urban mix in Johannesburg, the juxtaposition of street vendors and international institutions; urban grit alongside renovated buildings; bankers and yuppies walking next to mielie sellers on the street. An authentic place offers unique and unexpected experiences. A place full of chain stores and chain restaurants with no relation to the genius loci is not authentic. Cities are about the unexpected, the gallery ‘discovered’ around the corner, the coffee shop with no name with the Ethiopian hostess who serves freshly brewed Ethiopian coffee to her family at the same table as her patrons, in a building formerly occupied by a British Gentlemen’s club, or a Jewish doctors consulting rooms. A rooftop party with a sweeping view of the city at an architects penthouse. The city is a multi cultural and historical area, and provides a backdrop for interaction between people from very diverse segments of society.
Unfortunately much of the redevelopment of the city has followed a pattern of large companies buying up old buildings and refurbishing them along similar generic lines of mass, mid income rental housing stock. The intrinsic value of these buildings, their history, the patina of time, is overlooked. How is this model really any different from Paulshof or Midrand? Granted, the buildings in town are far prettier, but it’s the same concept.
Positive development of historical contexts is certainly emerging. The fantastic refurbishment of the old turbine hall for Anglogold Ashanti, the Barbican building left to rot for decades had been completely restored, Buildings like 87 Commissioner converted into trendy loft apartments, without stripping away the age and history of the structure. Creative communities finding new homes in formerly abandoned warehouses at Arts on Main, renewed interest in iconic old buildings like Ansteys.
Johannesburg is a diverse and inclusive environment. If the heritage aspect of this area is respected, it will retain its spirit as a unique, authentic, inclusive environment. Perhaps this is because my generation is able to view the city with fresh vision, unencumbered by experiences or preconceptions of past generations. Our genuine, collective history is there for us to rediscover, reimagine and refine, creating our own authentic future.
I had a conversation about the city with a friend of mine, Werner Kirchoff, the other day. He told me how in his youth he had carved the bases of the flag spires of Anglo Americans stately head office at 45 Main Street.
Standing on Main Street, between the imposing buildings of 44 and 45 there is an overwhelming feeling of permanence, capitalist power, European empire and African history. This is the South African Base of the largest gold mining company in the world! The mall between the buildings is spotless. Apart from the occasional corporate employee darting to an urgent meeting, the street is silent. These stately buildings seem to have existed for millennia, yet I was talking to someone who crafted these monuments in his lifetime.
The conversation highlighted the fact that our Architectural history in Johannesburg is relatively speaking, exceptionally young. The oldest surviving building (in the broadest sense of the term) in the city, the Rissik Street Post Office, built in 1885, is by international standards an infant.
Yet Johannesburg is a rapidly expanding, morphing, shifting, vibrant city. In its short lifetime is has witnessed change and uncertainty which belie the citie’s youth.
Established in 1886, the ZAR government of the time had little faith in the mining camps longevity. By 1889 the reef gave way to rotten pyretic ore which refused to yield any gold –Johannesburg panicked, mines became unprofitable and mining shares crashed almost overnight. ‘’grass will grow on the streets of Johannesburg’’ declared a young mining executive – Percy Fitzpatrick.
History proved otherwise. By 1893, The Goldfields Company of South Africa sent hopes soaring with the announcement that shafts could be sunk to a depth of 5 thousand feet. Johannesburg was saved, its future secured.
The citie’s detractors have been putting nails in Johannesburg’s coffin for over a century – the partial collapse of the CBD in late 80s and white flight to the perceived safety of Sandton and the North is only a more recent chapter in Johannesburg’s chequered history.
My mother used to push me in my pram around the shopping level at Ponte City. Ponte was the embodiment of urban hip- the place to be- the best address in town! –in my lifetime Ponte has transformed into a monument to urban decay, crime, white fear, urban legend, and the unclaimed, unexplored unknown.
Yet how is the contemporary city different to the city our parents knew and largely abandoned? The city our grandparents and great grandparents created.
When I tell people I own the penthouse in the old art deco Ansteys building, reactions span a broad spectrum.
I’m going to make a generalisation and stereotype groups of people and their perceptions of the city, its history and potential.
There are the urban nostalgists, people from my grandparents generation - they are enthralled- reminiscing about the city they remember. The elegant Art Deco buildings of Johannesburg; their impossible sky scraping height soaring above the bustling city side walks.
Conversation inevitably turns to Smokers Corner, the legendary tobacconist with an island shop at Manners Mansions. Shopping at Stuttafords, or John Orrs, and tea on the 4th floor terrace of Ansteys. The lift operators – announcing the different departments from floor to floor, gentlemen in suits and ladies in hats and gloves.
Elegant department stores and window shopping on Eloff Street after a night at His Majesties, or under the stars at the Coliseum. Office workers taking lunch in Oppenheimer Park, with the bronze impala fountain and listening to the clock at the Rissik Street Post office chiming every hour.
Johannesburg was the city of privilege and exclusion. Access by elements deemed undesirable, was heavily restricted – privilege of the few at the expense of the masses.
However, a rich and inclusive social history emerges from this time.
Johannesburg is the city where Nelson Mandela and Oliver Tambo practised law from Chancellor House; Joe Slovo had offices at His Majesties. The Playwright and anti apartheid activist Cecil Williams, who was arrested together with Nelson Mandela in1962, had a penthouse at Ansteys. Johannesburg was the city of the young Mahatma Gandhi, his passive resistance movement was born virtually across the road from the current 45 Main Building.
Most of my grandparent’s generation have not been near town in 30 years. They assume I must be a very successful architect to have a city penthouse, and that my neighbours are all successful bankers or movie stars – I do own the ex chairman of the Johanesburg Stock Exchanges Manhattan style residence. It’s better that these people don’t visit the city again. Their city exisits solely as a memory, real and vivid, it lives with them.
His Majesties is now a Discom, the lavish marble foyer replaced by banks of tills and cheap ceramic tiles, The Coliseum was demolished in the 80’s, Stuttafords is a stripped out shell, The famous Ansteys department store windows are now ‘dressed’ in dirty steel roller shutters. The Rissik Street Post Office owned by the city, was gutted by fire last November. Solid restoration plans have yet to materialise. The impala fountain in Oppenheimer Park has been evacuated to the safety of the much gentrified financial district. Yet you can still feel the energy of greatness, past and future - history lives in the city!
Then there is the urban pessimist, probably from my parent’s generation. This generation is generally surprised that anyone would still want to inhabit or invest capitol in a city that they left for dead, and abandoned decades ago. Johannesburg is perceived as a no go zone. The CBD for them automatically means the faux city – Sandton, Montecasino, Melrose Arch. They subscribe to the urban nostalgist view of the ideal Johannesburg, the heavily regulated, controlled, monitored, sanitised capitol of an apartheid state.
The American economist and social scientist Mancur Olson noted that the decline of regions is the result of an organizational and cultural hardening of the arteries, which he called “institutional Sclerosis”. Places that grow up and prosper in one era, find it difficult and often impossible to adapt to new organizational and cultural patterns. Consequently, innovation and growth shift to new places.
Rather than engage in the transformation of Johannesburg into a multicultural diverse post apartheid city, these people decamped, shifting to new decentralised cities. Rather than address new realities, they simply designed them away. In a society where public space could no longer be controlled, it was simply eradicated. Ready made cities were created, void of authentic historical context and without reference to an awkward but important history. Bunkers, with no relationship to the street or public environment. New access controlled and monitored high streets designed, facades of an unreal unlived history connecting unspecific areas to non existent communities. History is recreated along nostalgist ideals, sanitised pseudo historic cities, cut and pasted at will. Perhaps archaeologists finding the remains of Montecasiono or Fourways will assume that Johannesburg had in fact been conquered by Tuscan colonists! Are we so uncomfortable with addressing and dealing with our country’s history that we create a faux one to mask our true past? Maphela Ramphele speaks of the African custom of calling a ghost by its name to lay it to rest – contemporary South Africans seem to simply deny our ghosts ever existed.
Ill call the last group of people the new urbanites. These largely fall into my generation, although there are notable exceptions.
Viewing the city as a vibrant minefield of potential, craving real experiences, in genuine, unique environments rich in history and context.. These people want to experience real life in a genuine city. This is a move away from previous attempts to recreate pseudo environments, void of context and history, cities in the suburbs.
Authenticity comes form various aspects of an environment: historic buildings, established neighbourhoods, local culture. It is present in the urban mix in Johannesburg, the juxtaposition of street vendors and international institutions; urban grit alongside renovated buildings; bankers and yuppies walking next to mielie sellers on the street. An authentic place offers unique and unexpected experiences. A place full of chain stores and chain restaurants with no relation to the genius loci is not authentic. Cities are about the unexpected, the gallery ‘discovered’ around the corner, the coffee shop with no name with the Ethiopian hostess who serves freshly brewed Ethiopian coffee to her family at the same table as her patrons, in a building formerly occupied by a British Gentlemen’s club, or a Jewish doctors consulting rooms. A rooftop party with a sweeping view of the city at an architects penthouse. The city is a multi cultural and historical area, and provides a backdrop for interaction between people from very diverse segments of society.
Unfortunately much of the redevelopment of the city has followed a pattern of large companies buying up old buildings and refurbishing them along similar generic lines of mass, mid income rental housing stock. The intrinsic value of these buildings, their history, the patina of time, is overlooked. How is this model really any different from Paulshof or Midrand? Granted, the buildings in town are far prettier, but it’s the same concept.
Positive development of historical contexts is certainly emerging. The fantastic refurbishment of the old turbine hall for Anglogold Ashanti, the Barbican building left to rot for decades had been completely restored, Buildings like 87 Commissioner converted into trendy loft apartments, without stripping away the age and history of the structure. Creative communities finding new homes in formerly abandoned warehouses at Arts on Main, renewed interest in iconic old buildings like Ansteys.
Johannesburg is a diverse and inclusive environment. If the heritage aspect of this area is respected, it will retain its spirit as a unique, authentic, inclusive environment. Perhaps this is because my generation is able to view the city with fresh vision, unencumbered by experiences or preconceptions of past generations. Our genuine, collective history is there for us to rediscover, reimagine and refine, creating our own authentic future.
