In the Forest of Knowledge

The idea of organizing the space into terraces, creating thematic areas that cut the time needed for research and consultation, has been a successful one for modern libraries. The first example was the Bibliotheca Alexandrina in Egypt, inaugurated in 2002: a monumental tilted stone disk, with one half sunk in the ground and a single inclined, internal hall flooded with light from overhead, it is a tribute to the famous institution founded over 2500 years ago. The winner of the international competition held in 1989 had been a studio of young Norwegian architects with a bizarre name – Snøhetta – which in Norwegian means ‘snow hood’. Today, with thirty years of career under its belt during which it has produced such fundamental works as the Norwegian National Opera and Ballet in Oslo and the 9/11 Memorial in New York, Snøhetta has designed another great library, in China this time, the Beijing City Library, located in the Tongzhou district in the east of the Chinese metropolis. And here has proposed again an updated version of the same sloping scheme: more sustainable and closely related with its context.

“The terraced landscape and tree-like columns invite visitors to lift their gaze and focus at a distance, taking in the bigger picture,” says project leader Robert Greenwood of this 75,000- square-metre structure articulated in such a way as to create a sort of valley, with large panoramic windows facing east and west screened by brise-soleil from an excess of exposure to the sun. Amongst the gently rolling hills that house routes, books and benches on which to sit, quiet zones dedicated to reading or relaxation alternate with others intended for meetings and events. Without ever losing sight of the space as a whole. “The role libraries play in society and the way people use them has vastly changed,” explains Greenwood. “They are now needed to function as vibrant community spaces, enabling social interaction and knowledge-sharing.”

Thus these magical places that the digital age seemed to have condemned to extinction – since all information is now always accessible everywhere – are being reborn as great agora devoted to exchange. “It is the love people have for books that has made libraries survive the digital age and hold new potential to give back more to the city and its public,” points out Kjetil Trædal Thorsen, a founding partner of Snøhetta. “It is up to us to reinterpret the relationship between body, mind and the surroundings, to rekindle the joy of reading away from the screen.” Under the ceiling resembling a bed of gingko leaves (an ancient tree that originated in China), designed to diffuse a uniform and filtered light, there are spaces for exhibitions and lectures, as well as a workshop devoted to the restoration and conservation of old books. “This library has an intergenerational quality about it,” concludes Greenwood. “Here you would be able to pass on your stories to children and introduce them to the titles you’ve loved.”