Thematic file

The language of Dan Hanganu

text: Susan Bronson

A cherishing of history and a masterful creative use of materials and light have helped Dan Hanganu create a sophisticated architectural vocabulary that avoids superficiality

The first thing Dan S. Hanganu showed me was a fistful of rubber gaskets purchased at the nearby hardware store. "They're for a lamp I'm making," he explained.
As it turned out, he had also designed the lamps suspended between the wooden beams of his office, a two-story space in a 19th-century warehouse building in the Old Montreal neighborhood. The conference table and chairs also bear his signature. All are made of simple, ordinary materials, ingeniously and originally combined, with great attention to detail. Hanganu's fascination with materials and assembly techniques has evolved over the past 15 years, building into an unmistakable architectural language and becoming increasingly sophisticated as it has been applied to an increasingly varied range of products.
Dan Hanganu was born in Iași, Romania, in 1939. He obtained his degree in architecture at the University of Bucharest in 1961 and, after working in Romania and France, came to Canada in 1970. He has been practicing in Montreal since 1975 and opened his own architectural practice 10 years ago.
Hanganu credits his European background with giving him a good knowledge of culture and an appreciation of history, which has profoundly influenced his work. As one of those who eschews "sensationalist tendencies," he is concerned about the superficiality of today's architecture, based more on "fads" and populist clichés at the expense of sound judgment.
"It seems that architects today don't seem to have enough courage or strength - or perhaps not enough knowledge - to take a stand against what Jean-François Ravel calls the 'sweet tyranny of public opinion'," says Hanganu, with the consequence being a tendency to "reduce architecture to minor aspects" such as building height and sunlight. The really important factors, such as the quality of architecture and the building's role in expressing ideas about its historical and cultural origins, are too often neglected. "It's like trying to play Mozart only with drums and guitars," he remarks, wondering aloud whether architects are actually the cause or the victims of this unfortunate situation.
This deep understanding of the current state of architecture, within the broader context of cultural history, has helped Hanganu steer clear of the 'prima donna' approach and focus on what he sees as responsible architecture.
Hanganu's early work was predominantly new residential construction. His projects ranged from public housing programs for the elderly to speculative middle-class ensembles and luxury complexes for the wealthy. Their sites were equally varied: a triangular lot next to a suspended highway, a residential neighborhood five minutes from downtown, and properties on Nun's Island next to a forest or a building designed by Mies. With all this incredible diversity of programs and sites, Hanganu painstakingly and persistently examined the same fundamental concerns, developing them with each new project into complex solutions that would soon become a significant language of residential architecture.

The most visible of these preoccupations has already been mentioned: the ingenious and original combination of simple, ordinary materials. Construction techniques and materials, as well as the essential design principles of a traditional Montreal row house, for example, are reinterpreted through the use of a confident and contemporary architectural language. The steel cornices supporting the brick cladding are exposed to emphasize their fundamental purpose. The uncapped steel columns supporting the building's corners become architectural features that serve to articulate its configuration. Windows and rooms are organized to take advantage of cross ventilation and natural light. Brick, steel and glass are masterfully combined to form an unmistakable display of contemporary building technology.
The second concern that defines Hanganu's residential projects is the use of natural light, which is the least costly, yet the most precious of all architectural resources. A constant interplay of light and shadow is achieved through the exterior treatment of different architectural volumes - numerous approaches to configuration (including an interesting system of corner solutions), the incorporation of brick patterns and the selective introduction of varied materials. Windows of varying sizes and shapes which, on the exterior, are carefully placed to balance the overall composition, create an ever-changing atmosphere within the white volumes of the interior. The skillful exploitation of the properties of light gives the architectural spaces attractive dynamic features.
The third predominant concern is with meaning. Each project seems to incorporate its own intrinsic set of symbols, some remarkably subtle, others very obvious. The tubular steel pillars supporting the brick-clad corners, for example, are the pilings needed to build on the site of the ecological landfills.
These three key concerns had already evolved into a distinct language for residential architecture by the mid-1980s, when Hanganu was receiving numerous commissions that went beyond the residential realm to include interventions in existing buildings.
The opportunity to apply this language to a wider range of projects, including multifunctional complexes, office buildings, churches, and museums, has increased the sophistication of his vocabulary and created the opportunity to express new ideas and generate innovative dialogues about the role of contemporary architecture within its cultural and historical context.

The Clos St.-Bernard building, completed in 1987, involved the recycling of a 1920s brick-clad concrete garage located on the main thoroughfare of Montreal's prosperous Outremont neighborhood. Hanganu's mission was to transform it into a multi-purpose complex comprising street-level retail space, offices on the second and third floors, luxury apartments on the floors above, and a two-story penthouse.
The interiors of the apartments in the Clos St.-Bernard building exemplify all the distinctive features of his first residential projects. The sculptural volumes have been designed to take full advantage of the superb views and abundant natural light. Large windows and uncovered columns with mushroom-shaped capitals evoke the building's former use and the architecture of the era in which it was built. The application of meticulously designed metal grilles to the exterior of this otherwise modest building creates a play of light and shadow along the façade and, in addition, fulfills the functional demands of its new use. These are represented by storefront signage supports, apartment balcony railings and an impressive awning at the entrance. An exciting dialogue is created as this newly revitalized building respectfully addresses its "established" residential and commercial neighbors, while firmly differentiating itself from them.
In 1988, Hanganu's firm was hired by the advertising company Publicité Martin to improve the appearance of its seven-story office building, built in the 1960s and located on Mountain Street in Montreal's business center. This commission helped refine the architectural language characteristic of his work.
An elaborate assemblage of steel cables, black metal sections and pink granite panels is discreetly mounted on the somewhat nondescript prefabricated façade. Cables stretched downward toward the vertical grid of the original building suggest the lead wires used in construction, and the top of the panels is slightly angled downward to function as a cornice, which the original building did not have. During the day, the play of sunlight on this overlay gives the building a dynamic character; at night, beams of artificial light give glow to the cables beneath, emphasizing the verticality of the original architecture and giving it a long-lasting and very special presence on the street, a 'night life'. The architecture has become more than just an image of the company it houses or an advertisement for its raison d' être; it is a remarkable symbol of its time and the culture that created it.
But the most exciting project is the proposed transformation of the Place Royale .... The project aims to increase public awareness of Montreal's beginnings as a commercial and business center, as evidenced by archaeological discoveries at the site. The project calls for the design and construction of an information center that will protect and publicize these finds.
Hanganu's preliminary solution to this problem includes a platform suspended above the archaeological remains by cables attached to steel poles, on which a collection of texts (the pages of history) is engraved. In this way, the archaeological remains remain intact. Visitors will be able to walk over, among or alongside these testimonies to Montreal's early history.
The project offers a wonderful opportunity to apply and verify the architectural concerns developed over many years of practice - the exquisite combination of common materials, the exquisite exploitation of light, and the respectful reference to the many cultural symbols and historical discoveries inherent in these archaeological remains. At the same time, their intrinsic physical and symbolic fragility inspired a solution that stimulates Hanganu's architectural language to aspire to a higher level, where architecture and structure form a whole.
The project for the Royal Square attempts to cherish the past without associating with or dominating it. It can be neither submissive nor harsh, but has to be strong yet subtle. It is a real challenge... (C'est un vrai défi...)

NOTE

The article is written by Susan Bronson - a Montreal-based architect - and was published in The Canadian Architect in 1990.
Photo: Hanganu's offices in the Old Montreal neighborhood