Vilamajó and Villanueva: Latin American Architects' Houses

Introduction: Architecture as Cultural Expression

The Latin American architecture of Carlos Raúl Villanueva from Venezuela and Julio Vilamajó from Uruguay represents a combination of several different influences and ideologies — from Bauhaus to Utopianism to Latin American culture — that manifests itself in a mixture of geometric and spirited Latino modernism reflective of a social doctrine embracing broadly humanistic principles. This paper compares two houses by these two architects to show how their work is inspired by both the dominant world architecture of the 20th century and the culture of Latin America in which they lived.

As the American architect Louis Sullivan famously stated, "Form ever follows function," and there is much truth to be said for this statement with regard to Latin American architects and their works, as well as the influence and impact of their cities and countries on their architectural styles. The function of the homes of Villanueva and Vilamajó is not merely to provide a dwelling space, but also to say something about themselves as artists and about their view of the world — the history of architecture and culture as they saw it. Thus their homes reflect dynamic currents of thought and change across time and space. The function of these homes is to transcend the here-and-now and take the viewer to a different realm; form follows function in that it presents a dynamic vision — a hybrid construct of arresting dimensions, traditional throwbacks, cultural accents, and modern motifs.

Jean-François Lejeune notes that for Villanueva, a number of influences give the architect his distinctive flair. Among these is the political scene in Caracas, which affected his work in Venezuela, along with the history of the nation and its European influences: "the synthesis of formal rationalism and Baroque plasticity, classicism and functionalism of its architecture and urban interventions constitutes a model of classical proportions."¹ Villanueva was born in London and moved to Venezuela later in life. His particular tendency in constructing housing in Venezuela was to use space and color to make his houses stand out from what he called the "demon city" that encased them — a city from which he sought escape through architecture. One sees in his houses El Paraíso (1952–1954), 23 de Enero (1955), and El Silencio this tendency to use color and space to set homes apart from their surroundings and to transcend the civic and public turmoil in which they were situated. Traditional European Baroque sentiments are infused with [Bauhaus](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bauhaus) styles — flats and horizontals — effecting a dynamic hybrid of old-world and new-world architecture.

Villanueva's Caracas Houses: Baroque, Bauhaus, and Color

How and what these architects chose to design their houses with is rooted in their influences, as Lejeune has noted. Villanueva had spent time at the École des Beaux-Arts in Paris, which had a deep impact on his sensibility. By the 1950s and 1960s, the prevailing style of architecture worldwide was being shaped by the Bauhaus movement. Thus his residential houses are at times richly decorative and at other times stripped of ornament, in the Brutalist fashion of Marcel Breuer and others. In his Caracas homes, Villanueva displays a gigantic façade of shells used to alleviate the sense of compressed space by playing off one another within the composition. He plays with balances of height within his spaces and introduces distinction and variance into the surroundings rather than blending into the uniform urban fabric.

Felipe Hernandez assesses Villanueva's Camoa (1951–52) residence as a modern house in Caracas that is simultaneously a throwback to Victorian pretensions, with its villa-like and colonial stylings. It is constructed of "reinforced concrete frame and hollow brick for the walls" but is predominantly white — a transitional move for Villanueva that lends excellent style and taste to the design.⁸ It is overall a very neutral house that does not pull the viewer toward the past or the present but exists in a peaceful and harmonious way. At the same time, Hernandez recognizes a "tension because synthesis never really occurs" among the various elements that make up the house — from the spatial arrangement to the sculptures and artworks scattered throughout the interior.⁹

John King's assessment of Villanueva's houses also focuses on materials, which he sees as replicating the corporatist shift in the architect's mentality. In the 1950s, Villanueva used the "reinforced concrete" of the age to "create curves, arches and undulating canopies" — as in the "giant, curving external ribs of several of the University City buildings in Caracas."¹⁰ Yet in his houses, a more personal appeal comes through despite the use of concrete, overriding the material. In Latin America, as King notes, "concrete is more than just a means to an end" and carries its own aesthetic charge. The appeal is Brutalist in the manner of Breuer, but Villanueva does something unique with it — something that rivals the pure functionalism of the era and the corporatist mentality of the burgeoning urban cities he lamented. Villanueva wanted his own personal flair to be evident in his works, and he wanted it to elevate people in the community, uplifting them above the lifeless corporatist elements crushing the urban landscape, much as beach houses do along the coast.¹¹

The Vilamajó House: Wright, Brutalism, and Uruguayan Context

Like Villanueva, Vilamajó prioritized his materials based on the aesthetic demands of the current architectural moment. The [Vilamajó House](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Julio_Vilamaj%C3%B3) (now a museum), built in 1930 in Montevideo, has a character that is strongly reminiscent of Frank Lloyd Wright and even Bauhaus. Its flats and horizontals are offset by a lively, joyous exterior façade that is surprisingly varied — with a dotted surface treatment and windows of differing sizes. Like Villanueva, Vilamajó was responding to the 20th-century corporatism that Sullivan decried: the rise of the skyscraper with its soul-deadening lifelessness, which Sullivan himself attempted to alleviate with style and ornament. Both architects were dealing with the infiltration of corporatism into Latin America, so while Villanueva, designing large-scale residences, reverted to the Brutalism in fashion at the time, he added splashes of color to break up the monotony of the design, as in El Silencio.

Moreover, the characteristics of Art Nouveau are never far from the Villanueva façade, implying a reluctance to depart entirely from older styles even as the skyscraper closes in on Caracas. Ornamentation — whether Gothic or Art Nouveau — is part and parcel of the architect's craft: one must please aesthetically as well as practically. Form does follow function, but that is not to suggest that all form must be mechanistic. Function in nature is anything but mechanical, and human nature is dynamic, colorful, and transcendent. Villanueva's houses resonate with this vitality.

The Brutalism is present in the Vilamajó House as well, though here it is less oppressive and monotonous because Vilamajó breaks it up with unpredictable cadences, random enlargements of design elements, and scattered surface details. Modern architecture under Bauhaus influence would project sleekness and mechanical superiority without hazarding any embellishment or ornament. The ornament, in such cases, would reside in the perfection of the line, the angle, the horizontals and perpendiculars. This is especially evident in the Vilamajó House, though less so in Villanueva's Caracas homes — except for El Silencio, which does carry a Bauhaus sensibility.

Conclusion: Hybrid Identities in Concrete and Form

The Vilamajó House, with its concrete façade, flats and horizontals — yet with its unexpected surprises like its dotted exterior and varying window sizes — echoes the work of Frank Lloyd Wright and calls to a North American brother architect from all the way in Uruguay. This effort allows the architect to transcend time and space and unite two different worlds — one developed and one developing — in a way that bridges ethnicity and culture. Villanueva's Caracas houses in Venezuela, on the other hand, do a variety of things with the same concrete materials. They have a distinctive and personal approach that calls upon several competing styles, from old-world Baroque to new-world Bauhaus. Villanueva adds diversity and tension by way of color and shape, space and accumulation. This is in part a comment on the fragmentation of society — all disparate parts united in one house — but in another way it is an expression of love for the various cultural influences that have touched the architect, reflected and represented in one place, like a ballad to all the different artists who have found their way into the life of its creator.

This is how Villanueva and Vilamajó respond to their surroundings in modern life and yet capture and create their own identities through adherence to a vision that is at once entirely their own even as it builds on the shoulders of others and transcends the spaces and dimensions in which it is situated.

Annotated Bibliography

Bethell, Leslie. A Cultural History of Latin America: Literature, Music and the Visual Arts in the 19th and 20th Centuries. UK: Cambridge University, 1998.

This book explores two centuries of Latin American history and culture from music to literature to art and architecture. It discusses the wide ramifications of ideologies and methods and how they interact across mediums and artistic expressions. The architects are discussed in the context of their origins and national backgrounds.

Carranza, Luis. Modern Architecture in Latin America: Art, Technology, and Utopia. TX: University of Texas, 2014.

This book examines modern architects in Latin America and how they use technology to advance ideological aims regarding utopian visions of society. It highlights how architects are influenced by social doctrines within their countries, which are then reflected in their architectural works.

Hernandez, Felipe. Spaces of Hybridization: The House of the Architect.

This book gives examples of how various Latin American architects create hybrid houses drawing on multiple cultural influences to produce original works that are vibrant and alive with aesthetic activity. It discusses Villanueva's homes with photographs and addresses his inspirations, which is helpful in understanding his approach.

Cody, Jeffrey. Exploring American Architecture, 1870–2000. NY: Routledge, 2005.

This book describes American architecture from the mid-19th century through the 20th century and highlights the diversity of styles across that period. It is helpful for pointing out differences and interactions between South American and North American architectural styles.

Haidar, Sylvia. Beach Houses of South America. NY: Image, 2003.

This book explores how beach houses in South America are designed and built and the reasons behind their architectural choices. It is helpful for gaining a broader understanding of South American architecture and what it signifies for individuals in that region in terms of leisure and comfort.

Johnson, Paul. Art: A New History. New York, NY: HarperCollins, 2003.

This book surveys the entire history of art around the world from the earliest periods of human civilization to the 21st century, encompassing all expressions from painting to architecture. It is very helpful in understanding how ideas and social movements underlie and support architectural developments.

King, John. The Cambridge Companion to Modern Latin American Culture. UK: Cambridge University, 2004.

This book discusses the history of modern culture in Latin America and is helpful in understanding the influences shaping Latin American architects. It describes Villanueva's work of the 1950s and the inspirations behind it, offering another perspective on these architects and their contexts.

Korom, Joseph. The American Skyscraper, 1850–1940: A Celebration of Height. Boston: Branden Books, 2008.

This book discusses American architecture and the skyscraper in particular, which is useful for understanding Latin American architecture by way of culture and contrast. It provides a counter-depiction of American architectural thought and is helpful in generating ideas for comparative analysis of similar works in different contexts.

Lejeune, Jean-François. Cruelty and Utopia: Cities and Landscapes of Latin America. NY: Princeton Architectural Press, 2003.

This book explores the relationship between ideology, culture, art, and architecture. It presents two opposing views of Latin America — the idealist fantasy (utopia) and the reality (cruel cities of decimated communities). The architecture thus embodies these two contrasting elements and is at once brutal yet optimistic.

Pfeiffer, Bruce, ed. Frank Lloyd Wright: In the Realm of Ideas. IL: Southern Illinois University Press, 1988.

This book examines the work of American architect Frank Lloyd Wright, whose flat surfaces and horizontals are also visible in the work of Latin American architects such as Vilamajó. It stresses the idea that beliefs and ideologies are genuinely reflected in personal works of architecture — a principle that translates across borders to the Latin American context.