The Drawings of Daniel Libeskind

On several different occasions I have looked at the ability of technical drawing to carry complex and sophisticated layers of information and that as students of drawing you should never underestimate its potential.

In order to illustrate the expressive and conceptual potential of technical drawing it is worthwhile looking in depth at the work of the architect Daniel Libeskind.

 Micromega Drawings 1979

Early in his career Daniel Libeskind produced several drawings exploring the fictional potential of architectural space. In particular his drawings entitled 'Micromegas' reflected his interest in geometry and the power of technical drawing to make convincing spatial concepts. These drawings suggest the decision making processes of a post apocalypse architect working their way through masses of old blueprints found in an old bunker. They feel as if layers of drawings have been sandwiched together and now need architectural unpicking. When I first saw them I was reminded of the drawings made by the monk Brother Francis in Walter M Miller’s classic science fiction novel ‘A Canticle for Liebowitz’. In Brother Francis’s illuminated blueprints I had a first indication of what I believe Libeskind was trying to visualize. First published in 1960 A canticle for Liebowitz explores the implications of the preservation of scientific knowledge after a devastating nuclear war. Only in the sanctuary of Catholic monasteries were remnants of science kept, in particular blueprints were seen as things of great mystic value, but they were unreadable and therefore open to various strange interpretations. Reading was central to Libeskind’s ideas about architecture and he had the idea that architecture should be read in the same way we read any text. I.e. it should have a grammar and syntax and be capable of developing a narrative.  In this case I would suggest the narrative works like a cipher or coded message in a language yet to be fully articulated.

Libeskind’s drawings are hand drawn, with Rapidograph drafting pens. I remember these pens coming into use during the early 1970s, because I was working as an industrial interior designer and as the office junior my job during the winter power cuts that took place in 1973 was to first thing in the morning defrost all the Rapidiograph pens, so that they were ready for use. Rotring Rapidographs were the first pens to come with detachable ends and a range of different nib thicknesses. When I worked as a draftsman in the steel works we used ruling pens which were much harder to control. So in some ways Libeskind’s drawings reflect the technology of the time. He would have been used to drawing on transparent sheets of tracing paper which were then put through a roller machine to make diazo prints, which if I remember rightly consisted of blue lines on white paper. When several sheets of drawings were put into storage in a drawer, their overlapping lines would make for beautiful complex images, and I’m sure Libeskind must have seen the same thing, and then decided to trace out selected components.

If you enjoy these drawings  it’s worth looking at some of Libeskind’s other work. During the same time period that these drawings were produced Libskind was making his memory machines, and his Chamberworks, drawings which explore music and architecture.

Personally I like his Theatrum Mundi series of 12 abstract color plates that give visual form to a premonition of the future as a city besieged by an unknown infection. Not perhaps as final images, but more as an indication of another way to visualise the city. 

From Theatrum Mundi

Find more information on the Libeskind website.

Diazo prints are still being made, see.

Ruling pens are still being made and are reasonably cheap. See.

The Rapidograph is now a cult pen. See.

See also:

Technical drawing
Perspective
Architectural perspective
Engineering drawing

A link between observational drawing and technical drawing