MIXED MEDIA
Kolumba, the art gallery of the archdiocese of Koln, was designed by architect Peter Zumthor on a site rich with archaeological remains. And while it shows the ruins with abject theatricality, it shows artworks with tremendous grace. The three-story building is planned simply: it has a large, L-shaped footprint, with small box-like galleries dropped inside the corners of each floor. The plan is so simple that it looks foolish in the visitor’s brochure, like a student exercise in space planning. The large central spaces receive daylight from full-height windows, draped in shivering silver silk curtains. And the smaller galleries receive daylight through clerestories of clouded glass. The spaces have generous, cube-like proportions. The concrete on the floors, walls and ceilings has a smooth, cool grey finish. The walls are entirely blank. Daylight rolls through like mist, softening the purposefully reduced interiors. One of my friends, a painter, said, simply, “This is a great place to show art.”
The museum houses changing exhibits, and when we visited there was a show that paired contemporary German artworks with religious artifacts from the diocesan archives. So a vitrine showing a funky necklace of plastic beads sat beside one showing a centuries-old gold cross. A tender Madonna-and-child figurine sat on a pedestal in front of a huge, cartoonish painting of woodpeckers. This arrangement didn’t serve the old or new art well. It diminished the raw, atavistic power of the religious objects, and made the contemporary art seem flaky.
The building’s interiors, in their platonic proportions and astounding luminosity, captured something close to the spiritual. It’s unfortunate that the religious artifacts on display – a tabernacle trimmed with colored stones, a crucifixion carved from ivory, immense gold chalices – didn’t have the chance.