Le Corbusier

by Nicholas Fox Weber

  Joan Davidson of the J. M. Kaplan Fund helped make possible the marvelous translations by Richard Howard that play such a vital role in this book. I thank her, and of course I thank Richard himself. The energy and commitment this splendid poet and linguist devoted to understanding Le Corbusier’s idiosyncratic language, the inventiveness with which he put that autodidact’s French into an English equivalent, have been extraordinary. Since one of my main goals has been to present Le Corbusier as he really was, even if that meant revealing his confused and confusing use of language, Richard’s attentiveness to the nuances of translation has been indispensable.

  Charles Kingsley, one of the finest people I know, as well as one of the most talented photographers, has helped this book by his perpetual good humor and friendship, his wonderful companionship on the tennis and squash courts, and by the splendid support he has offered as a director of the Josef and Anni Albers Foundation.

  John Eastman—so bright, warm, and generous—has been there in a myriad of ways. A perpetually stimulating friend and warmhearted ally, he is one of those rare individuals who combine a profound intellect and penetrating mind with a spectacular sense of fun. His abiding humanity in our conversations pertaining directly or indirectly to Le Corbusier have had a significant impact on this narrative. John, too, is a director of the Albers Foundation, and has been exceptionally wise and generous in that capacity.

  When Josef and Anni Albers created the foundation that bears their names, they stated as its goal “the revelation and evocation of vision through art.” In the range of ways that the foundation has helped this book, it has, I believe, furthered that goal. Josef and Anni often voiced the most profound admiration for Le Corbusier, as well as a particular fascination with Ronchamp, and I hope they would be pleased with this undertaking. I owe so much to the Alberses as people—they were the real thing, totally committed to what mattered in art, entirely uncorrupted by the art world—and I am immensely honored to work to preserve their legacy and to try to perpetuate their values. The biography of Le Corbusier addresses many of the issues that both Josef and Anni held most dear.

  Oliver Barker, one of the splendid people at the Albers Foundation, has devoted himself to one aspect after another of this project, maintaining his grace and professionalism in every situation, always making life easier. I also want to thank everyone else at the Albers Foundation who has helped: Anne Barker, Jessica Csoma, Brenda Danilowitz, Andres Garces, Fritz Horstman, Jeannette Redensek, Tyler Sage, and Molly Wheeler.

  John Young and Joan Frankel of the Florence Gould Foundation have been incredibly generous and supportive and encouraging; I thank them profusely.

  Harriet Shapiro gave unsparingly of her time and energy to help this project at a pivotal moment. With her elegant use of language as well as her noble sense of values, she offered significant guidance for which I am more than grateful.

  The guidance I have received from Brigitte Lozerec’h—a gifted linguist, splendid writer, and spirited and stylish individual of great intellect—has been a blessing. And Veronique Wallace, such a generous and caring friend, provided me with a haven in which to write at a crucial moment, doing so with the charm and wisdom and graciousness that are her hallmarks.

  George Gibson, a superb and immensely kind human being, has, as has been true for over thirty years, been wonderfully supportive. Laura Mattioli, so passionate for beauty, so understanding of the priorities of a real art lover, has, as always, asked the right questions and set a superb example of dedication to the primacy of visual experience that mattered to Le Corbusier himself. Brigitte Degois offered sustenance both moral and culinary; I am intensely grateful to her and her husband, Gilles Degois, himself possessed by some of the same energy and daring as my subject. Nicholas Marang has been a boon to this book from the start, most especially by leading me on skis to the snowcapped mountain peaks so essential to the existence of the Jeannerets. Kenneth Marcus has been, as always, understanding, encouraging, good-humored, compassionate, and exceedingly generous with his time and energy. Mickey Cartin has been the exemplar of Corbusean qualities: straightforward, warm, consumed by his love for great art, and always good for a laugh. What a pleasure it is to have him as a friend. Sean O’Riordain has helped this project along in many ways as we have bicycled through downpours in County Cork or kayaked off to islands at sea; a superb friend and companion, he savors life with Corbusean robustness. Anne Peretz, generous, knowledgeable, and immensely kind, has been yet another source of inspiration. Alan Riding, a relatively new friend, has come to feel like someone I have known forever, blessedly, and has offered important insights, counsel, and leads to important details about Le Corbusier during the occupation of Paris.

  Leslie Waddington has believed in this book from its inception and has been, as always, an immensely perceptive and sustaining friend; Clodagh Waddington, so bright and witty and intelligent, has been a marvelous ally. The visit that they, along with my wife and Eve Tribouillet-Rozenczweig, made to 24 rue Nungesser-et-Coli was a pivotal event for me.

  I owe profuse thanks to Carmen Johnson at Alfred A. Knopf; she has been the epitome of graciousness and professionalism while addressing a myriad of complex details. Timothy Mennel has my appreciation for the great care with which he reviewed the manuscript. I am also extremely grateful to Ellen Feldman for her acuity and patience throughout the production process. Peter Mendelsund designed a cover for this book that reflects a visual brillance I am sure Le Corbusier would have admired; it captures the subject’s liveliness, his wish both to be public and to be hidden, his monocular vision, and his ability to use color and form to evoke the rhythm of great jazz.

  I am grateful to the following people for their constant encouragement and, in many instances, impact on this book: Michael Adler, Julie Agoos, Micky Astor, John Banville, Barry Bergdoll, Rosamond Bernier, Bim Bissell, Claire Bloom, Adam Brophy, Jerome Bruner, Laurent de Brunhoff, Anne Chambreaux, Lo-Yi Chan, Diana Cooper, Peter Cooper, Peter Deasy, Jodie Eastman, Marion Ettlinger, Martin Filler, Samual Gaube, Allen Grossman, Jane Grossman, Pankaj Gupta, Carlotta Hadley, Margaret Jay, Raffi Kaiser, Louise Kennedy, Gretchen Kingsley, Sylvia Kohler, Joan J. Kohn, Nancy Lewis, Ellen Weber Libby, Heinz Liesbrock, Ruth Lord, Patrick Marrioti, Susie and Marc and Maxime Martin, David Melchinger, Eskandar Nabavi, Michel Navarra, Carole Obedin, Mary O’Reilly, Seamus O’Reilly, Pierre Otolo, Emilie Pelaez, Amanda Pennelly, Martha Peterson, Sam Peterson, Elena Prentice, Tim Prentice, John Read, Jane Reynolds, Phyllis Rose, Didier Royer, Barbara Ryden, John Ryden, Jane Fearer Safer, Morley Safer, Sanford Schwartz, Mark Simon, Henry Singer, Paul Spike, Gustav de Staël, Jerl Surratt, Mami Mafuta Sira Sylla, Terry Tabaka, Philippe Tribouillet, Sandrine Vallé-Potelle, Ruth Agoos Villalovos, James Wallace, Joan Warburg, Helen Ward, Katinka Weber, Russ Weigel, Frank Williams, and Jeanette Zwingenberger. I also want to thank, for their time and interest in this project, Gae Aulenti, Linda Benglas, Olivier Betourné, Sophie de Closets, Claude Durand, Barbara Findeisen, Francine du Plessix Gray, Jim Grissom, Arthur Lubow, Toshiko Mori, Denise René, John Richardson, Anand Sarabhai, Vincent Scully, Ronald Steel, Vikas Thapar, and Bijan Yar.

  And there are certain individuals who, while no longer alive, have been present in my thoughts, intensely, as I considered one aspect or another of Le Corbusier’s work and life. Herbert Agoos, Leland Bell, Lee V. Eastman, Hans Farman, Rosalie Fox, James Hadley, Jack Kenney, R. W. B. Lewis, Louisa Matthiasdottir, Clara Nell McIntee, Jackie Onassis, Justine Peterson, Albert J. Solnit, Edward M. M. Warburg, King-Lui Wu, and Warren Zimmerman all helped me better grasp what I believe to be the priorities of human existence, and thus nurtured this project. I have also often thought of the interview about Le Corbusier I had with the late Philip Johnson, although his only answer to my various questions was always the same refrain: “He’s a shit, a shit, a shit, a shit.”

  When I was at the Loomis School in the early 1960s, two utterly splendid teachers had an impact on me that has caused me to think of them contin
ually while writing about Le Corbusier. Allan Lundie Wise, who taught English, made Robert Browning’s words “A man’s reach must exceed his grasp, or what’s a heaven for?” come alive, and his emphasis on the rules of Strunk and White had, I hope, the desired effect. Joseph Savoie Stookins introduced me to the magnificence of the French language and, in 1964, gave a lecture on the Gothic cathedral that catapulted me into new realms of interest that connect directly with the writing of this book.

  Like Georges Jeanneret, my marvelous father, Saul Weber, encouraged to the hilt the appreciation of nature and the miracles of the earth, and my dynamic mother, Caroline Fox Weber, was not unlike Marie in her abiding passion for music. The parallels stop there, fortunately. Both of my parents always encouraged me warmly; moreover, they had a verve for life and panache and originality—as well as a profound political consciousness—that graced my life from the start. I hope I have done justice to their wonderful values in my presentation of Le Corbusier in all of his complexity.

  The late Dr. Pearl A. Weber, Ph.D., C.A.T., was a guiding light, especially in regard to Le Corbusier’s more spiritual side and Yvonne’s mix of tenderness and ferocity. And Lester Weber kept me perpetually alert to Le Corbusier’s humor and grounding in the earthy realities of existence, as well as the value the architect placed on charm and dapper appearance.

  MY TWO DAUGHTERS, independent and extraordinary women in very different ways, have both provided loving encouragement as I have written this book. Lucy Swift Weber has been particularly helpful in calling my attention to the connections of Le Corbusier and his work to the design world today, leading me to intriguing examples of the way that the architect’s vision has penetrated multiple realms; at the same time, she has, as always, been the exemplar of human warmth. Charlotte Fox Weber has, with her astonishing acuity, played more of a role in this project than she can have imagined, not just by providing, usually at precisely the right moment, an apt statement by Goethe or Plato or Nietzsche, as if she knew just what I needed to understand, but by being, perpetually, an incredible ally. Charlotte is as alive to the wonders of existence and the reaches of the human mind as anyone I know, and she is the exemplar of family devotedness. It is impossible to imagine these years of thinking about Le Corbusier and his life without having both Lucy and Charlotte in mine.

  The mother of these two exceptional human beings, my wife, Katharine, is everything one could ask for in a true life companion: intensely bright, deeply funny, profoundly humane, and extraordinarily strong. She has shown an abiding understanding of all that the pursuit of Le Corbusier has meant in our mutual existence, and her unique alertness and wit, and a competence beyond the norm, have been mainstays. Whether I was at the epicenter of that earthquake in Ahmedabad or fleeing a burning hotel in Japan in her absence, or watching rain flow through the downspouts at Ronchamp and exploring the hidden spaces of Le Corbusier and Yvonne’s apartment with her at my side, she has been a source of balance and joy in my quest to grasp Le Corbusier. How lucky I am to have the love and support of this amazing woman whom I love so deeply.

  IN 1973, my older sister, Nancy, and I made an impromptu trip to Europe together when we were both emotionally at somewhat loose ends. Our itinerary revolved around the wish to go to Venice, look at Paul Klee’s paintings in Bern, and visit Ronchamp—three destinations which we sensed would offer balm and pleasure. Like the children of Georges and Marie Jeanneret, we depended on the closeness of sibling ties and believed in the healing powers of art.

  I will never forget our first glimpse of Ronchamp. It was on a crystal clear November evening, and, following a wonderful inexpensive meal at the local village inn, where we were staying in cheap but pleasant rooms, we drove and then walked toward the looming bell-clapper form of Le Corbusier’s spectacular church.

  Neither of us could believe what we saw. Our remarkable parents had brought us up to love life, to prize art, and to worship independent minds; we were both delirious with joy. Ronchamp was closed for the night, but the moonlight on its ever-changing surfaces brought us such a surfeit of pleasure that to have gone inside would have been too much.

  The next day, in brilliant autumn sunlight, we spent hours inside, marveling at Corbu’s vibrant windows and the spectacular flow of space. How fortunate I am to have a sibling who understands, and has encouraged for six decades, that sense of wonder. It is an honor to be able to dedicate this book to her.

  NFW, Bethany, Connecticut, April 2008

  NOTES

  Unless otherwise noted, all archival sources are from the Fondation Le Corbusier, Paris. The code numbers provided identify individual letters according to their organization at the Fondation.

  PREFACE

  1. Quoted in Richard Jenkyns, “The Pleasures of Melodrama,” The New York Review of Books, July 11, 1996, p. 10.

  2. R2-2-46, letter to mother, June 11, 1951, Paris (on Bogotá stationery).

  3. Ibid.

  4. R2-4-55, letter to mother, March 28, 1942, Vichy, Queen’s Hotel.

  5. Michael Burleigh, The Third Reich: A New History (New York: Hill & Wang, 2001), p. 4.

  CHAPTER I

  1. Parisien libéré, September 1965.

  2. Jean Petit, Le Corbusier lui-même (Geneva: Editions Rousseau, 1970). (Written in 1964, this book was published six years later.)

  3. Interview at Robert Rebutato’s studio, October 5, 2000.

  4. Midi libre, August 28, 1965.

  5. R1-12-27, letter to Yvonne Gallis, September 22, 1927, Vevey, Villa Le Lac.

  6. La Nouvelle république des Pyrénées, August 28, 1965.

  7. Interview with Jean Louis Véret, one of the architects in Le Corbusier’s office, January 2000.

  8. R1-6-148, letter to mother, January 10, 1927, Paris.

  9. Conversation among Jacques Hindermeyer, Ivan Zaknic, and Nicholas Fox Weber (NFW), Paris, November 4, 2000.

  10. Ivan Zaknic, The Final Testament of Père Corbu: A Translation and Interpretation of Mise au point (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1997), p. 67. According to Kenneth Frampton, Le Corbusier made the comment to Jerzy Soltan, but Soltan told Zaknic that the architect said it to André Maisonnier. Ivan Zaknic said that Roger Aujame reported Le Corbusier saying the same thing to him (interview, October 12, 2000).

  11. Hindermeyer interviews, February 11 and November 19, 2001.

  12. Ibid.

  13. Ibid.

  14. “Malraux disait ‘C’est le plus grand architecte du monde.’ Et pourtant Le Corbusier croyait avoir ‘raté’ sa vie,” L’Union. Grand quotidien d’information issue de la résistance, August 28, 1965.

  15. Ibid.

  16. Feuille d’avis de Lausanne, September 28–29, 1965.

  17. Hindermeyer interview, December 2, 2002.

  18. Le Corbusier, Mise au point (Paris: Editions Forces Vives, 1966).

  19. Zaknic, Final Testament, p. 67.

  20. R2-2-42, letter to mother, May 2, 1951, Paris.

  21. RIBA Journal (Royal Institute of British Architects), April 1953, p. 218.

  22. Le Corbusier, Oeuvre complète, vol. 8: The Last Works (Zurich: Les Editions d’Architecture, 1995), p. 186.

  23. Ibid.

  24. The quotations and the entire anecdote come from Olivier Todd’s excellent Malraux: A Life (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 2005), p. 394.

  25. Le Monde, September 3, 1965.

  26. Interview with Stanislaus Von Moos, September 26, 2000, Paris; the anecdote was told to him by Sigfried Giedion.

  27. Robert Doisneau and Jean Petit, Bonjour Monsieur Le Corbusier (Zurich: H. Grieshaber, 1988).

  28. Interview with Roger Aujame, October 6, 2000.

  29. Interview with Dr. Hindermeyer, November 19, 2001.

  30. Ibid.

  31. Ibid.

  32. Interview with Roger Aujame, October 6, 2000; the story was reported to him by Charlotte Perriand.

  33. Interview with Dr. Hindermeyer, November 19, 2001.

  34. Interviews with Denise René, May 11 and
May 15, 2000.

  35. Robert Rebutato reports that after the body was incinerated, Le Corbusier was given a rolled-up newspaper containing pieces of Yvonne’s bones, which he took to the repast at Mme. Ducret’s following the ceremony. It was there that he said, “Voici tout qui me reste de ma belle [not “chère”] Yvonne.” Interview, October 5, 2000.

  36. Pierre Joffroy, “Pourquoi le plus grand architecte fut-il le plus mal aimé?” Paris Match, September 11, 1965.

  37. R1-6-149, letter to mother, February 3, 1927, Paris.

  38. R1-6-118, letter to mother, April 19, 1926, Paris.

  39. R1-6-120, letter to mother, April 22, 1926, Paris.

  CHAPTER II

  1. H. Allen Brooks, Le Corbusier’s Formative Years: Charles-Edouard Jeanneret at La Chaux-de-Fonds (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1997), p. 9. While there have been no previous biographies that take Le Corbusier through his entire life, this impressive and scholarly work thoroughly charts the architect’s beginnings.

  2. R3-18-12 to 22, letter to Ritter, October 6, 1910, Munich.

  3. R3-18-127, letter to Ritter, December 12, 1911, La Chaux-de-Fonds.

  4. R3-18-128 to 143, letter to Ritter, November 1, 1911, Pisa, mailed from La Chaux-de-Fonds.

  5. R3-18-144, letter to Ritter, December 15, 1911, La Chaux-de-Fonds, Le Couvent.

  6. Maximilien Gauthier, Le Corbusier ou l’architecture au service de l’homme (Paris: Editions Denoël, 1944).

  7. Ibid., p. 11.

  8. Petit, Le Corbusier lui-même, p. 24.

  9. In La Chaux-de-Fonds, son passé et son présent. Notes et souvenirs historiques publiés à l’occasion du centième anniversaire de l’incendie du 5 mai 1794 (La Chaux-de-Fonds: Imprimerie Nationale Suisse, 1894).

  10. Petit, Le Corbusier lui-même, p. 24.

  11. Ibid., p. 23.

  12. Gauthier, Le Corbusier ou l’architecture au service de l’homme, p. 16.