Hearth, torch, manifesto: fire in architecture

1. Hearth

The hearth is the most obvious example of fire in buildings, and people have gathered around it since the Paleolithic era. Some anthropologists and architectural theorists, including Gottfried Semper, argue that fire provided not only food and warmth, but also determined the layout of buildings, which were constructed around it.

Carlo Ratti, curator of the current Venice Biennale, writes in his book The City of Tomorrow: Sensors, Networks, Hackers, and the Future of Urban Life, that the cave hearth prompted people to transition from a nomadic to a sedentary lifestyle. Frank Lloyd Wright famously described it as the psychological centre of the home.

Fireplaces occupy a significant place in Wright’s architectural designs. According to Steve Sikora, owner of one of Wright’s residential buildings and a researcher of the architect’s work, he never designed a house without a hearth. Fire became the ‘core’ of his early designs, including his own home in the suburbs of Chicago.

In Wright’s most famous residential building, Fallingwater, the fireplace is built into the rock upon which the house is built, with pieces of rock visible through the floor. Above the firebox is a hook for a kettle, one of the architect’s signature design features. However, like the fireplace itself, this is more decorative than functional, Sikora writes.

In his view, given the availability of modern electric kettles, the only reason to boil water over a fire would be to create a special atmosphere. Wright seemed to suggest that fire used to be the life force of any home.

The mere intimation of a cauldron over a crackling fire is apt to stir primal emotions and is enough to evoke the pleasures of a warm, fireside meal even if it is imaginary.

Perhaps this is why fireplaces are faithful companions to all kinds of leisure locations. In Catalonia, this is confirmed by the new public space The Communal Barbecue. The architectural firm H30 Architects was supposed to turn it into a regular recreation area with access to a popular walking route, but then the architects noticed that local residents were bringing grills here. So, the project was reoriented towards them: comfortable tables and a hearth with a bright turquoise pergola were installed. And to find the right shape, they ‘played with references including the witch’s hat, the Hansel and Gretel cottage, and that strange attraction people have towards fire.’

2. Olympic flame

In some cases, the design of the main Olympic symbol is created by famous architects. For the 2012 Summer Olympics in London, for example, the cauldron was designed by Thomas Heatherwick, an architect and designer renowned for his technological yet humane approach. This combination means that his projects always contain an inventive touch, but also evoke a lively emotional response.

Heatherwick created a structure comprising 204 copper ‘petals’ — one for each participating country. During the opening ceremony, these petals were placed on steel rods. Then, all of the petals were lit and the rods on which they were mounted rose to form a torch-shaped bowl, symbolising unity among nations.

Ratti was chosen to design the torch for the 2026 Winter Games in Milan. The project was named Essential. Carlo Ratti Associati emphasises that the torches are made primarily from recycled materials, including aluminium and brass alloys. The colours differ for Olympic and Paralympic athletes: the Olympic version is Shades of Sky (green shades inspired by the sky and nature of Italy); the Paralympic version is Mountains of Light (a bronze shade, symbolising willpower and overcoming adversity).

The torches can be used up to ten times, thereby reducing the number required and minimising waste. The fuel is produced from various types of waste, including used cooking oil, animal fats, and agricultural by-products. In this way, Ratti continues the sustainable approach he showcased at the Venice Biennale.

3. Sacred and memorial

For Swiss minimalist architect and Pritzker Prize winner Peter Zumthor, fire is one of the most powerful forms of expression. In the Norwegian Arctic town of Vardø, there is a memorial to burned witches, created by Zumthor in collaboration with the artist Louise Bourgeois.

The project was inspired by the number 91 — the exact number of witches who were burned in Norway four centuries ago, according to official statistics. The memorial takes the form of a long wooden gallery with randomly placed windows — 91 in total, corresponding to the number of people executed. Next to it stands a glass pavilion containing a chair from which tongues of flame burst forth, and mirrors which act as metaphorical witnesses to the murders.

When designing the Bruder Klaus Chapel near Cologne, Zumthor took a completely different approach, combining architecture and performance. He worked on the project at the request of German farmers who wanted to honour the saint for a good harvest.

Construction turned into a ritual in which the entire village participated: residents assembled a hut-like structure from thin, long logs, which was then covered in layers of concrete. Once the concrete had hardened, the wooden formwork was set alight. For several days, people watched smoke emerging from the roof opening. Finally, the scorch marks on the walls were treated with special solutions. The chapel was complete.

The opening in the roof was left unglazed so that, in rainy weather, water could freely enter the chapel. This creates an even more poetic contrast with the candles placed along the walls and the blackened walls.

4. Manifesto and festival

Another star architect, Austrian Wolf Prix, began his illustrious career with a controlled fire. On 12 December 1980, his firm Coop Himmelb(l)au presented an installation and performance entitled Blazing Wing. A metal wing was suspended on the grounds of Graz University of Technology and set on fire. The facades were protected by water curtains. The crackling of the flames was transmitted through loudspeakers.

The installation was accompanied by a manifesto entitled Architecture Must Burn. It subsequently became the programmatic text of deconstructivism, a movement that includes Zaha Hadid, Frank Gehry, Rem Koolhaas, and Bernard Tschumi in addition to Coop Himmelb(l)au.

«We want architecture that has more. Architecture that bleeds, that exhausts, that whirls and even breaks. Architecture that lights up, stings, rips, and tears under stress.

Architecture has to be cavernous, fiery, smooth, hard, angular, brutal, round, delicate, colorful, obscene, lustful, dreamy, attracting, repelling, wet, dry, and throbbing. Alive or dead.

If cold, then cold as a block of ice.

If hot, then hot as a blazing wing.

Architecture must blaze.»

A more famous example of the interaction between fire, performance and architecture is the Burning Man festival, which has been held in the Nevada desert in the western United States since 1990. The name of the event is associated with a ceremony held on the penultimate night: a large wooden effigy called the Man is symbolically burned. A large pavilion is erected for it, each time different. This year, it was created based on the motifs of the World’s Fairs of the 19th century — the structures resembled the Eiffel Tower and other examples of the belle epoque.

David Best, a San Francisco-born sculptor, is one of the most famous artists to participate in Burning Man. In 2016, he took part in London’s Burning, another fire-related event commemorating the Great Fire of 1666. During the four-day disaster, 65,000 people were left homeless, and London’s subsequent rapid recovery laid the foundation for the global city it is today.

To mark the 350th anniversary of the Great Fire of London, Best created London 1666 — a wooden silhouette of the city, which was placed on a barge and set alight at nightfall. Over 50,000 people watched the event from the riverbank, while hundreds of thousands more watched the online broadcast. The project was assembled with the active participation of young volunteers. Schoolchildren aged 5–7 created drawings about the Great Fire and their hopes and dreams for London’s future. Then, based on these drawings, young people aged 16–24 built wooden figures which were combined into a 120-metre floating structure.