Erik Gunnar Asplund’s life (1885-1940) spans the period between neoclassicism, proto-modern eclecticism, and the first stirrings of the modern movement. His first 1913 project for the Gothenburg Law Courts, the Enskede Cemetery (begun 1915), the 1920 Woodland Chapel, and the brilliant Lister courthouse (1918-24) were all in this idiom, leading up to the great 1928 Stockholm Library when suddenly, he changed his style. In this authoritative new critical study, Peter Blundell Jones explains the circumstances of that change, which saw Asplund embrace modern architecture, in a style of his own that started with the 1930 Stockholm Exhibition and culminated with the Woodland Crematorium (1940). Blundell Jones examines Asplund’s cultural development and background, finding parallels with the painter Carl Larsson, whose drawings, though sentimental and folklorish, use line, composition, and colour in modern ways. This conjunction of the folkish with the modern, he says, is the secret of Asplund’s creativity; a tension between the nostalgic and the forward-looking, and an ability to imagine architectonic space as cosy and domestic. But there were non-folklorish influences as well, brought about by industrialisation and technological innovation.
During the latter part of his education Asplund met Sigurd Lewerentz in 1910, at the Royal College of Fine Arts. Rebelling against the stuffy approach there, they formed their own breakaway school- a venture that did not last long but which allowed them to bring in all the best architects, including eclectics like Ragnar Östberg, the architect of Stockholm City Hall. Asplund’s career got off to a strong start with Isak Gustav Clason, the leading architect of the time, whose Bünsow House of 1888 and Hallwyl Palace of 1898 (writes Blundell Jones) “could have been built by two different architects” (stylistic pluralism seems to be a problem for Blundell Jones, but is an essential component of Asplund’s design approach). In 1913 Asplund won the competition to design an extension to the Gothenburg Law Courts building and in celebration, he set off for the first of several Italian tours. Some drawings in his travel sketchbook are adulatory, like his watercolour of the Greek temples at Paestum; others are analytical, like his meticulously scaled plan of the market at Cefalù in Sicily. Back in Sweden he teamed up with Lewerentz on the competition for Stockholm cemetery crematorium, which they won. Like the Gothenburg Law Courts, this project dragged on throughout Asplund’s career until the end, changing considerably in the process and carried on after his death by Lewerentz. His workload built up rapidly and by 1921 included two masterpieces, the Woodland Chapel and the Lister Courthouse. In addition, he undertook a number of town planning projects, also finding time to travel again to Italy, and to America. In 1928 he completed the Stockholm Public Library, arguably his greatest work and certainly one of the great buildings of all time. Significantly, it had nothing to do with the modern movement, which was going full blast by that time. Sven Markelius and others had already imported modernism into Sweden, but Asplund - an establishment figure - had not taken part in its debates, so there was something opportunistic about his decision to espouse modernism in 1928. He had no choice; dissatisfied with Asplund’s first sketches for the 1930 Stockholm Exhibition, Gregor Paulsson, his client, asked him to adopt the new modern style and took him to see modern architecture in Germany and Czechoslovakia. As a result, Asplund’s modernist pavilions for the Stockholm exhibition ”exploited transparency and assymmetry to the full, while still creating a place of great variety, humanity, and charm”; but this was a modernity never far away from neoclassicism, always sensitive to context and full of an expressionist spirit that owed more to Erich Mendelsohn than Le Corbusier. Other interesting modernistic projects followed and in 1935 Asplund was commissioned to design the crematorium at the Woodland Cemetery, a sublime and serene work that got him into the modern architecture history books; but it was not until much later that some came to regard his Stockholm Library as an even greater achievement.
Some of Blundell Jones’s architectonic analyses have a plodding, professorially didactic tone that does not sit well with the explorative delight of Asplund’s drawings. But he can also be incisive, when describing how critics like Nikolaus Pevsner and Siegfried Giedion marginalised Asplund, unable to accept that a building like the highly contextual Gothenburg Law Courts extension “could undermine the whole notion of tabula rasa as starting point for the Modern Movement”. But he is wrong to lament that Asplund is not in “the Pantheon of modernist heroes”. Alvar Aalto was the first to press for his recognition, and Asplund’s subsequent influence on English architects, from Charles Holden to James Stirling, surely makes his position unassailable. This monograph, which follows on from Stuart Wrede’s 25 years earlier, will inspire yet another generation of admirers.