倫佐·皮亞諾/Renzo Piano

孫晨光 譯/Translated by SUN Chenguang

倫佐·皮亞諾

1937年出生于熱那亞的建造商家庭。1964年從米蘭理工大學(xué)建筑學(xué)院畢業(yè)之后，他開始嘗試輕型、可移動(dòng)的臨時(shí)建筑方面的實(shí)驗(yàn)。1981年，他成立了倫佐·皮亞諾建筑工作室，目前在巴黎、熱那亞和紐約設(shè)有辦公室。

曾獲主要獎(jiǎng)項(xiàng)：英國皇家建筑師協(xié)會(huì)金獎(jiǎng)（1989年），日本京都獎(jiǎng)（1990年），普利茲克建筑獎(jiǎng)（1998年），意大利建筑設(shè)計(jì)金獎(jiǎng)（2003年），美國建筑師協(xié)會(huì)金獎(jiǎng)（2008年），哥本哈根森寧獎(jiǎng)（2009年）?！?/p>

總統(tǒng)先生，克林頓女士，普利茲克先生和夫人，獲得1998年普利茲克建筑獎(jiǎng)對(duì)我來說是無比榮幸的事情，首先我要感謝評(píng)審團(tuán)的所有成員，他們對(duì)評(píng)審工作極其負(fù)責(zé)，讓普利茲克獎(jiǎng)向那些像我一樣身處獎(jiǎng)項(xiàng)“神廟”之外的人敞開了大門。

被提名為年度建筑師，我非常高興、自豪和欣喜，無論這將會(huì)意味著什么，這的確聽起來有點(diǎn)奇怪：就像“年度熱賣”、“當(dāng)季最佳”、“月度冠軍”之類的，是不是這就意味著建筑師也有保質(zhì)期，等到年末的時(shí)候就會(huì)被拋棄掉？

但是，建筑師到底是什么呢？建筑又是什么呢？我已經(jīng)入行30年了，而直到現(xiàn)在我才開始明白建筑究竟意味著什么。首先，從最表面的字面意思看，建筑業(yè)是一種服務(wù)。它是一種為了某種用途而進(jìn)行創(chuàng)造的藝術(shù)，也是一種具有社會(huì)危險(xiǎn)性的藝術(shù)，因?yàn)檫@是一種強(qiáng)勢的藝術(shù)。你能放下一本劣質(zhì)的書，也能不聽那些不好聽的歌曲，但是你卻無法無視那些就在你房子對(duì)面的丑陋的塔樓。建筑強(qiáng)加給人們的丑陋，甚至讓人沒有機(jī)會(huì)進(jìn)行選擇，無論是對(duì)于現(xiàn)在還是未來，建筑都有一個(gè)嚴(yán)肅的責(zé)任。建筑師是一個(gè)古老的職業(yè)，甚至也許是世界上最古老的職業(yè)，或者說是第二古老的職業(yè)，就像打獵、捕魚、耕作或者海上探險(xiǎn)一樣。相比其他職業(yè)，這些都是人類最初的活動(dòng)。在尋找食物之后，緊接著人們就開始尋找遮蔽的住所，后來人們就不再棲居于自然提供的遮蔽之下，而形成了建筑師這個(gè)職業(yè)。

最后，建筑是多元事物的集合：歷史學(xué)、地理學(xué)、人類學(xué)和環(huán)境學(xué)、科學(xué)和社會(huì)學(xué)，建筑不可避免地反映了所有這些學(xué)科。

也許通過這樣一幅畫面能夠更好地解釋我的觀點(diǎn)：建筑就像一座冰山一樣，當(dāng)然并不像“泰坦尼克號(hào)”那樣一旦撞上就會(huì)讓你沉沒的那種冰山，而是指冰山余下的部分都浸沒隱藏在水中。冰山的7/8都浸沒在水中，而我們就是要找到把建筑這座冰山中隱沒的力量，把社會(huì)、科學(xué)和藝術(shù)這些印象因素充分結(jié)合。

建筑就是社會(huì)，不能脫離人、人的希望、努力和激情而存在。傾聽人們的聲音非常重要，這對(duì)于建筑師尤其困難，因?yàn)閺?qiáng)加個(gè)人的設(shè)計(jì)、個(gè)人的思考方式，甚至是個(gè)人的風(fēng)格總是充滿誘惑。而我認(rèn)為，輕度的設(shè)計(jì)才是適宜的，所謂輕度，并不是要放棄那些讓你推進(jìn)方案的動(dòng)力，而是讓你去傾聽別人的意見。

我并不是童子軍，我對(duì)于建筑服務(wù)意義的觀點(diǎn)并非意在說教，而只是出于對(duì)職業(yè)尊嚴(yán)的倡議。失去了這種尊嚴(yán)，我們就面臨著在時(shí)尚和流行中迷失自我的危險(xiǎn)。把建筑業(yè)看成是服務(wù)業(yè)必然意味著限制和制約了創(chuàng)作的自由，但是誰能說創(chuàng)作一定得有毫無約束的自由呢？我甚至認(rèn)為，對(duì)于社會(huì)和社會(huì)需要的解讀，是建筑的財(cái)富：佛羅倫薩是一座美麗的城市，因?yàn)樗且獯罄乃噺?fù)興的縮影，它的藝術(shù)家、商人和欣賞藝術(shù)的人們，它的街道、廣場和宮殿都是洛倫佐·美蒂奇眼中社會(huì)的反映。

建筑是一門科學(xué)，作為科學(xué)家，建筑師必須扮演探索者的角色，敢于冒險(xiǎn)，他必須帶著好奇和勇氣去解決現(xiàn)實(shí)問題，去理解和改變現(xiàn)實(shí)。建筑師應(yīng)該是文藝復(fù)興式的一名工匠，想想伽利略，望遠(yuǎn)鏡是為了從輪船向外遠(yuǎn)眺而發(fā)明的，而不是為了觀察星體的運(yùn)動(dòng)。神學(xué)家關(guān)注星星，而他卻想了解天堂，為了這個(gè)追求和那時(shí)最有權(quán)勢的教廷斗爭。這對(duì)我有很大的啟示，給我上了重要的一課：這就是對(duì)于新事物的好奇、思想的獨(dú)立和對(duì)于未知事物探索的勇氣。

建筑師總是生活在邊緣，而且經(jīng)常需要跨越它們，去看一看那一邊有什么。他們也會(huì)用望遠(yuǎn)鏡去瞭望那些神圣文字中沒有寫到的東西。伯魯乃列斯基不僅設(shè)計(jì)建筑，也設(shè)計(jì)建造建筑的機(jī)械，安東尼奧·馬內(nèi)蒂詳細(xì)描述了他是如何學(xué)習(xí)鐘表的機(jī)械系統(tǒng)，并把它應(yīng)用在一個(gè)大起重系統(tǒng)中的，這也是大穹頂被升起來的辦法。這是一個(gè)非常有趣的例子來解釋建筑師是如何進(jìn)行研究的，也啟發(fā)我們?nèi)ニ伎歼@樣一個(gè)重要問題：那些我們敬仰為大師的人們，在他們的時(shí)代都是偉大的發(fā)明家，他們是劃時(shí)代的，他們用實(shí)驗(yàn)和冒險(xiǎn)找到了自己的道路。

在解釋頒獎(jiǎng)原因的時(shí)候，評(píng)審團(tuán)把我比作伯魯乃列斯基，讓我倍感驕傲和不安，他是一個(gè)永遠(yuǎn)只能接近而無法到達(dá)的榜樣。如果一定要我把自己比做什么人，我選擇比作魯賓遜，一個(gè)有能力在陌生島嶼上生存下來的探險(xiǎn)者。

建筑是一門藝術(shù)，用技術(shù)來創(chuàng)造情感，建筑有一套自己的語言，組織空間、光線和材料，而其中有一個(gè)要素對(duì)于我是非常重要的：光線。在我早期的作品中，那就是一個(gè)游戲，一個(gè)非常幼稚的對(duì)于無形空間和結(jié)構(gòu)的挑戰(zhàn)，后來，這成為了我做建筑的一種方式。在我的建筑中，我嘗試使用一些非物質(zhì)的元素，比如透明度、光線、光線的變化。我相信這些和建筑的形體和體量具有同樣重要的地位。

就像所有藝術(shù)一樣，創(chuàng)作都有困難的時(shí)刻，創(chuàng)造意味著在黑暗中攫取，在參考中迷失，面對(duì)未知的領(lǐng)域。要堅(jiān)強(qiáng)、要頑強(qiáng)，缺少了這些品質(zhì)，你就只能在創(chuàng)造之外徘徊。思想的探險(xiǎn)結(jié)束了，取而代之的是學(xué)院派的僵化。

為了真正地創(chuàng)造，建筑師需要面對(duì)這個(gè)職業(yè)的所有矛盾：約束和自由的矛盾、記憶和創(chuàng)造的矛盾、自然和技術(shù)的矛盾，這些矛盾無法被逃避，如果生活是復(fù)雜的，那藝術(shù)就更加復(fù)雜。建筑是社會(huì)、科學(xué)和藝術(shù)的結(jié)合體。就像冰山，是數(shù)千年積累形成的結(jié)果，是一個(gè)在不斷變化的形體，冰不斷地在很多海洋中融化和凍結(jié)。

建筑是生活的一面鏡子，這就是為什么我在建筑中看到的第一事情是好奇、社會(huì)化和對(duì)于探險(xiǎn)的欲望，這些是讓我一直被擋在建筑的神廟外的原因。我出生在一個(gè)建造商的家庭，這給了我一種和建造藝術(shù)之間的特殊關(guān)系。我總愛和父親一起到建筑工地上，看人們用雙手從無到有的創(chuàng)造。對(duì)一個(gè)孩子來說，建筑工地有一種魔力：今天能看到一堆沙子和磚頭，明天看到一堵立起來的墻，而最后這些都變成了人們能居住的高大堅(jiān)固的建筑。我是一個(gè)幸運(yùn)的人，我的生命正是在做我小時(shí)候夢想的事情。

1945年我7歲的時(shí)候，戰(zhàn)后的重建奇跡剛剛開始。以進(jìn)步和現(xiàn)代的名義，很多愚蠢的東西被宣揚(yáng)和建造。但是在我的年代，世界的這種“進(jìn)步”的確意味著一些事情，每一年這些進(jìn)步都把我們從戰(zhàn)爭的陰影中一點(diǎn)點(diǎn)帶離，我們的生活也看上去一天天變得更好。在那個(gè)時(shí)代成長起來意味著對(duì)未來有著樂觀的信念。

我屬于這樣一代人，他們在生命中不斷嘗試來探索不同領(lǐng)域，而忽視規(guī)則的界限，他們給規(guī)則洗牌，敢于冒險(xiǎn)和犯錯(cuò)。在很多領(lǐng)域，比如戲劇、繪畫、電影、文學(xué)和音樂中都是這樣，甚至和文化背景無關(guān)。文化成為了一個(gè)可以消失的碎片，這些都讓你本能地樂觀成長，而相信未來，這是自然而然的。但是同時(shí)，你也會(huì)熱愛過去，生活在對(duì)過去的感恩和對(duì)探索未來的熱情中間。

我想起了弗·司各特·菲茨杰拉德的《了不起的蓋茨比》里面結(jié)尾的一句話“于是我們奮力向前劃，逆流向上的小舟，不停地倒退，進(jìn)入過去?！边@是一幅輝煌壯麗的畫面，是人類現(xiàn)實(shí)的象征。往昔是一個(gè)安全的庇護(hù)所，是持續(xù)不斷的誘惑，但是如果我們不得不去什么地方的話，未來是我們唯一能去的地方。□

Renzo Piano

Born in Genoa in 1937, Piano comes from a family of builders. Following his graduation from Milan Polytechnic Architecture School in 1964, he started experimenting with light,mobile,temporary structures. He formed Renzo Piano Building Workshop in 1981, which now has offices in Paris,Genoa and Newyork.

Major awards: the Royal Gold Medal at RIBA(1989), the Kyoto Prize in Japan(1990), the Pritzker Architecture Prize (1998), the Gold Medal of Italian Architecture (2003), the Gold Medal AIA (2008) and the Sonning Prize in Copenhagen (2009).□

Mr President, Mrs Clinton, Mr and Mrs Pritzker,it is naturally a great honour for me to be awarded the 1998 Pritzker Prize. And first of all I would like to thank the members of the jury. They have taken on a tremendous responsibility in opening the doors of the temple to someone like me who has always lived outside of it.

I am very happy, proud and grateful to have been nominated architect of the year－whatever that means. It does sound a bit odd, this year's best-seller, the season's hit, the record of the month. Does this mean that architects have a sellby date; that you throw away the architect at the end of the year?

But what exactly is an architect? What is architecture? I have been in this trade for thirty years and I am only just beginning to understand what it is. Firstly, architecture is a service, in the most literal sense of the term. It is an art that produces things that serve a purpose. But it is also a socially dangerous art, because it is an imposed art. You can put down a bad book; you can avoid listening to bad music; but you cannot miss the ugly tower block opposite your house. Architecture imposes total immersion in ugliness; it does not give the user a chance. And this is a serious responsibility －for now and for future generations. And architecture is an ancient profession, perhaps the world's oldest; or the second oldest if you prefer, a little like hunting,fishing, farming, exploring the seas. These are man's original activities from which all others stem.Immediately after the search for food, we find the search for shelter; at a certain point, man was no longer content with the refuges offered by nature and became an architect.

Finally, architecture mixes things up: history and geography, anthropology and the environment,science and society. And it inevitably mirrors all of them.

Perhaps I can explain myself better with an image. Architecture is like an iceberg. Not in the sense of the Titanic, that will take you down if you bump into it, but in the sense that the rest is submerged and hidden. In the seven eighths of the iceberg that lie below water, we find the forces that push architecture up, that allow the tip to emerge:society, science and art.

Architecture is society, because it does not existwithout people, without their hopes, aspirations and passion. Listening to people is important. And this is especially difficult for an architect. Because there is always the temptation to impose one's own design, one's own way of thinking or, even worse,one's own style. I believe, instead, that a light approach is needed. Light, but without abandoning the stubbornness that enables you to put forward your own ideas whilst being permeable to the ideas of others.

I am no boy scout, and my appeal to the sense of service is not intended as moralistic. It is, very simply, an appeal to the dignity of our profession.Without this dignity, we risk losing ourselves in the labyrinth of fads and fashions. Reading architecture as a service certainly means limiting its creative freedom, constraining it. Yet whoever said that creativity had to be free of any constraint? I would like to say more: the interpretation of society and its needs is the richness of architecture. Florence is beautiful because it is the image of Renaissance Italy, its artisans, its merchants, its patrons of the arts. Its streets, squares and palaces reflect Lorenzo de’ Medici's vision of society.

Architecture is science. To be a scientist, the architect has to be an explorer and must have a taste for adventure. He has to tackle reality with curiosity and courage to be able to understand it and change it. He has to be a "homo faber",in the Renaissance sense of the term. Think of Galileo: the telescope was invented to look out for ships, certainly not to study the movement of the stars. Theologians worried about the stars. He,instead, wanted to understand the heavens, and he fought against the most powerful lobby of his time to do it. This image represents a lot for me: a formidable lesson in curiosity for anything new, an independence of thought and courage in exploring the unknown.

Architects have to live on the frontier, and every so often they have to cross it, to see what is on the other side. They, too, use the telescope to look for what is not written in the sacred texts.Brunelleschi did not just design buildings, but also the machines to build them. Antonio Manetti recounts how he studied the mechanism of the clock in order to apply it to a system of large counterweights: this was how the structure of the cupola was raised. This is a lovely example of how architecture is also research. And it makes us think about an important thing: all of those whom we look up to as "classics", were in their own time great innovators. They were the cutting edge. They found their way by experimenting and taking risks.

In explaining their reasoning in assigning this prize, the jury makes a reference to Brunelleschi which fills me with pride and embarrassment at the same time. He is a model that cannot be reached,but only approached. If I have to compare myself to someone, I prefer Robinson Crusoe, an explorer capable of surviving in foreign lands.

Architecture is an art. It uses technique to generate an emotion, and it does so with its own specific language, made up of space, proportions,light and materials (for an architect, matter is like sound for a musician or words for a poet). There is one theme that is very important for me: lightness(and obviously not in reference only to the physical mass of objects). At the time of my early works, it was a game, a rather naive challenge of shapeless spaces and weightless structures. Later, this became my way of being an architect. In my architecture,I try to use immaterial elements like transparency,lightness, the vibration of the light. I believe that they are as much part of the composition as the shapes and volumes.

And like in all arts there are difficult moments.Creating means grasping in the dark, abandoning points of reference, facing the unknown.Tenaciously, insolently and stubbornly. Without this stubbornness, which I find sublime at times, you remain outside of things. The adventure of thought comes to an end and academia begins.

To be truly creative, the architect has to accept all the contradictions of his profession:discipline and freedom, memory and invention,nature and technology. There is no escape. If life is complicated, then art is even more so.Architecture is all of this: society, science and art. And like the iceberg, it is the result of stratification that lasts thousands of years. Like the iceberg, it is a continuously changing mass, with the ice melting constantly and reforming in the water of the many oceans.

Architecture is thus the mirror of life. This is why the first thing I see in it is curiosity, social tension, the desire for adventure. These are things that have always kept me outside the temple. I was born into a family of builders, and this has given me a special relationship with the art of "doing". I always loved going to building sites with my father and seeing things grow from nothing, created by the hand of man. For a child, a building site is magic:today you see a heap of sand and bricks, tomorrow a wall that stands on its own; at the end it has all become a tall, solid building where people can live.I have been a lucky man: I have spent my life doing what I dreamt as a child.

I was seven years old in 1945, when the miracle of post-war reconstruction began. In the name of progress and modernity, a lot of stupid things have been said and done. But for my generation, the word “progress” really meant something. Every year that went by took us further from the horrors of war and our life seemed to improve day by day. Growing up in that period meant having an obstinate belief in the future.

I belong to a generation of people who have maintained an experimental approach throughout their life, exploring different fields, ignoring boundaries between disciplines, reshuffling the cards, taking risks and making mistakes. And in many different fields. From theatre to painting,cinema, literature and music. Without ever talking about culture. Culture is a fragile term which can disappear like a will-o-the-wisp just when you call it up. This all makes you grow up instinctively optimistic and makes you believe in the future. It is inevitable. But at the same time, you love your past (as an Italian, or, rather, European, you have no choice). And so you live in a limbo between gratitude towards the past and a great passion for experimentation, for exploration of the future.

The final words of Francis Scott Fitzgerald'sThe Great Gatsbycome to mind: "so we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past." I find this a splendid image, an emblem of the human condition. The past is a safe refuge. The past is a constant temptation. And yet the future is the only place we have to go, if we really have to go somewhere.□