Discussion: Instrumentalised Otherness - on the Origins of the Visitor Centre
An incredible number of people are seeking asylum in Germany. Although these newcomers are not yet familiar with how German communities function, the federal government expects them to quickly find ways to get involved. Such a situation calls for "visitor centres" - if we define a visitor centre as a building for persons who are in a location that is not (yet) their home. At the moment, however, this definition is still grey theory. All sorts of new buildings are required to accommodate the refugees and migrants, and some of them will be erected using prefabricated modules - even though until recently in Germany the tendency has been to tear down this sort of building. But no one has spoken out publicly in favour of visitor centres. If we look back in time, we'll understand why. Their role was established 50 - at most 150 - years ago and has nothing to do with the present situation. To grasp what it really means to build for strangers we'll have to go back even farther. The trade caravans of ancient Persia traversed great distances in a harsh climate and hostile territory (ill. 3). Caravansaries awaited the travellers for each daily segment of the trip. A network of caravansaries accompanied the Arab expansion - which crossed the Mediterranean and the Indian Ocean, proving that well-equipped facilities can direct migration flow. The visitor as such is an invention of religion, which has long provided a reason to travel: hundreds of thousands of pilgrims set out for religious sites each year. To manage the large number of pilgrims, the churches' master builders separated the lodging for the travellers from the site to be visited. Abu Mena, on the northern coast of Africa, is a superb example; until the beginning of the 7th century it was continually enlarged and was on the path to becoming a city. This is a foreboding of the functional separation that is dominant to this very day. The actual destinations - pilgrim churches - then enlarged their capacities: they made the choir accessible to the pilgrims, but the most sacred space was reserved for the clergy. The imperfect convergence continues to characterise visitor centres. The secular visit - and the spaces accompanying it - is a product of the Industrial Revolution, which so powerfully rearranged existence that every commune and every individual must accommodate it. The invention of the steam engine makes higher-speed forms of transportation possible - and travelling salespeople profit: they need no longer peddle their wares in person. Instead they can simply contact shops, but this change is attended by much more extensive competition. The focus shifts from market squares to fairs with ever-larger scope. The development is spurred on by the advent of nation states, which also compete with one another. At the forefront were Great Britain and France, each seeking to be the most powerful colonial power. In the mid-19th century both hostes fairs - a.k.a. windows to the future. These have evolved into world expositions. In 1851 Paxton was still able to fit the globe into a single building - the Crystal Palace (ill. 2). The structural principle, consisting of prefabricated iron and glass modules, could have been extended ad infinitum. But hosting the fair in a single structure only allows exhibitors to design their interiors. And so the second world exhibition, held in Paris in 1855, has more than one venue. Twelve years later, different nations exhibit in separate buildings lining the Seine. Shortly thereafter private firms follow suit. Exhibitionism takes on a life of its own, and shows are put on even when the original is close at hand: Paris's ambivalent attempts to exhibit itself culminate in the construction of the Eiffel Tower (1889). Its 250 m2 visitor platform situated just below the summit introduces a new theme to exhibition design: the view. To this day world exhibitions attract huge crowds. They institutionalised tourism. Just after 1900, Switzerland and France established the first organisations dedicated solely to promoting tourism. By 1925, at another Paris expo, two umbrella organisations have already entered the scene. Each has a building of its own: one an avant-garde design celebrating tourism per se, the other an homage to the automobile in the form of a terrace house. The strong difference between the two is typical: the expo pavilion is free to take any shape or form.
