Electa Pavilion

To speak of the book pavilion is first to evoke things past, namely the two rows of trees between which the architectural office of Stirling Wilford & Associates situated their building in 1991. With the exception of two or three, these trees have since disappeared, and the book pavilion now stands on a surface sparsely covered with grass. The park has undoubtedly been neglected. Even more than for other buildings in the Giardini, earlier visits to the pavilion need to be brought to mind to regain the meaning of this poetic design. Hablar del pabellón del libro es, en primer lugar, evocar cosas del pasado, concretamente las dos hileras de árboles entre las que el estudio de arquitectura Stirling Wilford & Associates situó su edificio en 1991. A excepción de dos o tres, estos árboles han desaparecido desde entonces, y el pabellón del libro se levanta ahora sobre una superficie escasamente cubierta de hierba. No cabe duda de que el parque ha sido descuidado. Incluso más que en el caso de otros edificios de los Giardini, es necesario traer a la memoria las visitas anteriores al pabellón para recuperar el significado de este diseño poético. Even before the visitor takes the path to the biennial pavilion with its massive white pillars, a building appears on the right, set back behind bushes. This is somewhat unsettling given how its façade asserts a striking axis with the facing entrance to the Giardini. A short white “tower” with a grating above the door stands on a semicircular platform tiled with cement. However, the iron I-beam puncturing this grating and extending far outward disrupts my initial associations with a northern village church. Instead it brings other, industrial images to bear, or at least it is reminiscent of a goods lift. In effect, the beam serves to hoist the necessary machinery for the pavilion’s air-conditioning to the room above the door.