
Theresia Bastion, Garden of Dreams?

Almost a year after its official inauguration, a new presentation of the project to rehabilitate the Theresia Bastion in Timișoara may seem redundant at first glance, considering the countless presentations, either in the pages of national architecture magazines or on the walls of exhibitions. Hosted last month in the generous attic of the central building, the Arhitext - Fluențe architecture festival honored the courtyard of honor project with a prize in the landscaping section. The award is all the more important as it came from a jury chaired by Pierre von Meiss, a theorist on whose theoretical and poetic vein the architect Marius Miclăuș has built a large part of his own discourse, both in the professional practice and in the academic environment. In the context of our topic, we considered it beneficial to distance ourselves in time from the moment of "final reception", as it is capable of highlighting the relationship of compromise between project and finished product, between intention/concept and post-utilization realities. Thus, through the discussion with architect Marius Miclăuș, we try to re-examine the current positioning of this architectural product, from the perspective of the intentions and concepts that generated it.
Cristian Blidariu: In the early 2000s, the Theresia Bastion building and, in particular, its courtyard of honor were in an advanced state of physical wear and tear, giving a sad and dusty air to the whole ensemble. Although in the 1990s the ensemble housed a number of important cultural institutions and museum spaces for the city - the ethnographic museum, the county library, the first art bookstore in the city, one of the city's first and most successful art cafes (which hosted various weekly events and jazz concerts), workshops of the Union of Fine Artists, slowly this bohemian air was disrupted by a number of spaces less suited to a historic monument building. New tenants at the end of the 2000s have parasitized the building with inappropriate signage and apparent installations, altered the fenestration elements, and the carefully designed woodwork from the first restoration in the 1970s has gradually been replaced and modified with new aluminum or PVC ones, out of keeping with the context of the whole. At one point, the courtyard of honor, transformed into a banal and uninviting parking lot, housed a makeshift car showroom over the central fountain for the cars of a showroom housed in the south body. Apart from the problems of use, however, the Bastion building suffered, in the nineteenth decade, a series of significant structural deterioration, caused in large part by the construction of the nearby Petroleum Scheldt building, especially in the area of the southern section, which, due to the exhaustions, has subsided in addition to the rest of the complex. Another problem reported at the time was the garden on the walls of the bastion, which, left in a state of semi-wildness, over time had given rise to invasive vegetation with extensive roots, which penetrated the masonry vaults, causing additional cracks. Recognizing this situation and the opportunity to access structural funds, which would have allowed a substantial intervention on the ensemble, the local authorities launched a competition in 2004 to find a solution for its restoration and rehabilitation. The project you won the competition was called "Garden of Dreams". What did this concept propose compared to the status quo at the time?
Marius Miclăuș: The concept we proposed at the national competition stage has been continuously transformed, but it remained in the same theme. In simple terms, we wanted to make a prudent intervention on the monument, but put it in a new, contemporary context. The "strong" parts of the project are, in fact, the garden (not yet realized) and the courtyard of honor - which, the way it is configured, allows you to perceive the historic walls from different angles and in a fragmented way. Here it is worth confessing that we wanted in a way to push things into the period in which we live, and that the nostalgia for "ruins" would not be so present. We wanted to overcome the fear that I, at least, feel in Romanian society, of using public space and assuming the times we live in. It is obvious that criticism can be leveled here and even "I expect it", but this was, let's call it, the vision.
Read the full text in issue 1/2012 of Arhitectura magazine.




























