Marcel Iancu and his formal alphabet: an ongoing teaching exercise (I)

First I remember that we did an exercise to bring up to date the "circus of hunger" in Rahova, then still an unfinished ruin (now a shopping mall). The idea was to convert the ruin into an inhabited community, with a public space and a place of worship under the central dome. I don't know if they still have that project. I had proposed it because another student of mine had done an extremely interesting study on the so-called Radio House, which he saw as a folded real estate development site, a megastructure in which he was screwing demolished houses to build the donkey. It was a controversial and political project. Unfortunately, the planning commission rejected his project as too radical and unserious: will we ever find the money to finish the Stalinist-Caucusist edifice anyway? Understandably, the fact proved by the student - that there was already a study done by Hilton for a project to convert the unfinished ruin - moved no one. We were in the protohistory of the real estate bubble.

In the meantime, the bubble burst and, of course, the ruin was left in a MUCH worse state than it was in the beginning because various city hall committees, with offended dignity, imposed maximalist conditions on the public/private partnership that had been set up. Everything they never asked of the state authorities and/or themselves, they asked of this project. It's no wonder that the private investor has packed up his coveted piggy bank and moved on to more investor-friendly places....

What is certain is that, shortly before or after the (unfortunate) experience of winning the competition for the Orthodox Patriarchal Cathedral of St. Andrew the Apostle and the Ascension of the Lord in 2002, where all three of them were at my side, I started this experiment based on a drawing by Marcel Iancu, published in Contimporanul in 1924. The massive study, catalog of the eponymous exhibition, published by Simetria, contains it, but does not explain it. Is it followed by a text that tells us more? Have any studies investigated the recurrence of this alphabet in the artist's work? Was the alphabet drawn from earlier works, formalizing, that is, a self-identified idiomatic language? Or, on the contrary, was the artist intending to use it in a series of post-publication works? I don't know. We were, we said to ourselves, in possession of an exceptional document, like the alphabet of a vanished language.

Why should we do so? Simple: part of the effort of deconstructivism has been directed towards recovering the experiments of the European historical avant-garde, in particular Russian constructivism, which were not carried out to the last consequence.

I remember that first we did an exercise in bringing up to date the "hunger club circus" on Rahova Avenue, which was an unfinished hulk at the time (now it's a mall). The idea was to convert the ruin into an inhabited community, with a public space and a place of worship beneath the central cupola. I don't know whether they still have the designs. I had suggested it to them because another of my students had done an extremely interesting study on the so-called Casă Radio, which he viewed as a site adapted to real-estate development, as a mega-structure in which he inserted demolished houses to construct a bugaboo. It was a polemical and political project. Unfortunately, the pre-diploma commission rejected the project as being too radical and unserious: what if we manage to come up with the money to finish Ceaușescu's Stalinist edifice? Obviously, the fact that the student had shown that Hilton had already done a study for a project to conserve the unfinished ruin didn't influence anybody. This was du-ring the pre-history of the real-estate bubble. Meanw-hile, the bubble has burst and, of course, the ruin is in a much more ruinous state than it was in the first place, because various city-hall commissions, with wounded pride, have imposed maximalist conditions on the public/private partnership that has been put together. It is no wonder that the private investor has gone off in search of more investor-friendly climes, taking his much-coveted piggy bank with him.

What is for sure is that immediately before or after the (unfortunate) experience of winning the competition for the "St. Andrei the Apostle and Ascension of the Lord" Patriarchal Orthodox Cathedral in 2002, when all three students were shoulder to shoulder with me, I went on to do this experiment, setting out from a drawing by Marcel Janco, published in Contimporanul in 1924. The hefty study, which was the catalog for the exhibition of the same name, published by Simetria, includes it, but doesn't explain it. Is it accompanied by any text to tell us more? Are there any studies that have investigated the recurrence of this alphabet in the artist's work? Was the alphabet drawn from previous works, i.e. did it formalize a self-identified idiomatic language? Or, on the contrary, did the artist intend to use it in a series of works subsequent to publication? We didn't and still don't know.

As I have said, we find ourselves in possession of an exceptional document, like the alphabet of a vanished language. What justification do we have for doing this? Simple: part of the endeavour of deconstructivism has been aimed at recouping the unfinished experiments of the historic