In Juan Daniel Fullaondo´s Class room (I) | José Ramón Hernández Correa

Juan Daniel Fullaondo Errazu was born in Bilbao on 4 March 1936 and died in Madrid on 26 June 1994, Sunday, with fifty-eight years of age. This day I had gone out in the tele in the morning, and when my fellow Juan Carlos Castillo Ochandiano called me by telephone thought that was to congratulate me thus and kid a bit (because it had been all the time very arrinconado and hardly had gone out by screen). I remember perfectly what said me: a sentence as of film, that does not say  in the real life.

-Are yoy seated? Seat down..

But I am diverting me. It is not this.

I have beginning for writing the objective data of his birth and of his death, but in this entrance do not go to give objective data. Juan Daniel Fullaondo does not have (still) entrance in the wikipedia, and I would be unable to draft it. Yes that I dare to speak of him through my recollections.

Luis García Gil´s sketch

Since it died, it does already eighteen years, think that has not happened neither an alone day in that it have not thought in him, at least an instant. A gesture, a remember, a word, a prank… So much it marked my life. And, however, I carry already 193 entrances in this blog and up to now have not been able to devote him one. I do not know to express all what seat, and suppose that I will complicate me in secondary anecdotes, but have to do it. Forgive that it speak of me more than of him.

Excuse that he speaks about me more than of him.

I was a good student in the theoretical subjects of the career of architecture, which was extracting me for course, but I was stumbling over the graphs. Without any plastic previous formation, the Analysis of Forms of first me choked, and I needed to go to an academy (as relay pupil) to be able with him. It me desfasó, and it was taking the graphs (vertebral column of the career and axis of what is to be an architect) to tracks.

In third we had Elements of Composition, the subject that finally was preparing for Projects, and an infamous teacher of whose name I do not want to remember it was on the verge of becoming convinced in order that it was leaving the career. Seeing my patosidades he asked me about my other subjects, the theoretical ones, and, as I said to him that they were OK, it encouraged me to do some engineering and to leaving my behaved in an outrageous way attempt of being an architect. He said it to me with comprehensive tone, almost fondly. I believed that he was saying it to myself for my good, and I remember perfectly how I told it to my father, me skipping the tears.

( Decades later I knew that this charlita was his habitual tactics, because some companion, speaking about the same teacher, told me that he had said the same thing to him that to me).

I was very gravely embarrassed. It was very bad. It did not know how to confront the exercises that were putting us and was not doing any more than sad and bland infamies. I suspended Elements. On the following year I managed to go out of the situation nastily, with another teacher, to stumbles, with five peeled and very cutremente. When in fourth course I had to look for group to deal Projects I, a companion spoke to me about that of Fullaondo.

Fullaondo! Not that was mad! It was a reputation that in his group madnesses and brilliant decorations were doing to themselves. It was the most enterteining, but alone suitablly for geniecillos explosives and frolickers. Not. I was a gray and conscientious student, and a teacher was looking of this that look with escalímetro at the landing of the stairs. It could not dream of the effervescence of the fullaonditos. But my friend, who was not not brilliant at all, had finished Level I with an aprobadillo, but it had spent it frankly well and had learned very much. So I encouraged.

The experience was disconcerting. As the first exercise of course, Fullaondo proposed a house for Jorge Oteiza (about whom I for then had never heard speaking, and it was in fourth course!) and he devoted himself during days and days (in classes of three hours) to speaking about Oteiza and to his work and his thought showing us. It was an authentic intensive course.

Fullaondo was giving an enormous theoretical, historical base, historiográfica and critical to all the exercises. It was a living encyclopedia. And he was a stutterer. This one is the typical foolishness that is never published in the biographies but that all the “well-informed ones” know of surplus. I mention it because it was one more circumstance to adding to it “rare” that they were his classes to the first impression. He was a stutterer to the one that was not giving him any difficulty to speak. It was speaking and speaking, and was creating a species of own pace. Another important information is that a great sense of the humor made, and it was combining without objection the brainiest and erudite analysis with the most ironic and joker (and, since it is in the habit of happening with the humor, these enterteining observations were always the sharpest).

Fullaondo did not have slides (that it was what existed then), but it had all the books of the world, which it was bringing to class and was showing with the “projector of opaque”. This one was an infernal machine that had a horizontal lens in the base, on which it was putting on the book, and the image was projecting on the screen with a game of mirrors type periscope. The projector of opaque was wisely piloted by Juan Pablo de Bidegáin Herrera. As the lens it was small, was not including the majority of the illustrations of the books, and Juan Paul was doing a few virtuous travellings sliding the book below the lens and upside-down (if it was going from right to left side the movement was seen from left side to right). The effect is that we all “were” “walking” along the photos, on which Fullaondo was commenting. It was ordering to go for behind, to rise, to go down … and Juan Paul was dancing a precise waltz with the book, which above was in the habit of being of big and unmanageable format.

And Fullaondo was speaking and speaking. It was giving all the own information of the scholar, but it was doing brilliant comparisons. It was relating works, concepts, prominent figures … in a stimulant and surprising way. Everything was costing, and could throw Joyce ‘s idea to finish off her with a  Martes y Trece concept. (I me do not invent it: It was exactly like that).

Anyone could intervene when it wanted, and to comment what he should desire, specially to take the opposite one or to throw any boutade. This Fullaondo was taking it very well. Not only he was not despising from his Olympian height the observations of very little formed and very ignorant pupils, but it was celebrating our observations and was getting enthusiastic with appraisals that seemed to her to be brilliant. Often it was taking note of anyone of these comparisons or games of ideas and was commenting on them for months or enclosedly years, them mentioning with the same importance that if they belonged to architects or consecrated critics. This was giving a great safety and a feeling to the pupil as of importance and value. (It did a lot of good to me).

Thus, the initial surprise for those so dense and atypical classes immediately was turning into addiction.

Juan Daniel Fullaondo

After several “critical” or “theoretical” classes it was having to teach sketch. I will never forget the first one that I showed. Do not be why, the teacher was sitting down in a low chair and the pupil had to sit down in a high stool, to his right and very over him. I desenrollé the most wretched sketches that it could imagine. After so many days of stimulant theory and of resounding storms of ideas I unhooked myself with a current little house and moliente, tasteless, with his windows of two leaves with blinds and vierteaguas and everything necessary to be a trivial chalet in a trivial urbanization.

It had to be an experimental house for one of the biggest artists of the world, and my companions were presenting impressive houses. Where was I going?

I remember perfectly that while it was teaching this rubbish to him (to it and to all my companions) me started trembling the straight leg. It could not avoid it. It was capable of speaking and of explaining my project, but it could not stop the leg.

Any other one would have completed me in a minute and would have certified my death. He not. It must have seen that, since he was present at the classes and it was putting interest, and even it was intervening often, not even my completely carbonized soul was quite lost, and, with an exquisite tact, it encouraged me to ” to give up the hair “. Also it suggested me a table of urgent salvation: he said To Me that I should concentrate on someone of the houses that we had seen in class and that it her was copying. (It is never possible to copy exactly a building, and when one tries to do it he learns very much on him and experiences interesting variants).

Do not be why, but I returned to house with a high optimism and with a sensation of solvency. The sketches that it had taught were a shit; it was evident. But instead of the known old woman sensation of failure and impotence of other years and with other teachers, I was meeting with forces and with sufficient aptitude to make something much better.

Ultimately, after several foolhardy attempts, and coward definitively to do another thing, the hair to come untied indeed since him had asked me, I took the famous house of brick of Mies van der Rohe.

Brick House, 1923, Mies van der Rohe

I adapted the program to this scheme and in the second session of sketch I taught my work to him. It was a really easy and immediate thing, but he considered it very much, and said to me that it had improved notably.

I felt the king of the mambo, and this is remaining already too long and I am afraid to be weary.

Immediately I continue with the history.

José Ramón Hernández Correa · Doctor Architect

Toledo · november 2012

In Juan Daniel Fullaondo´s Class room (II) | José Ramón Hernández Correa

José Ramón Hernández Correa

Nací en 1960. Arquitecto por la ETSAM, 1985. Doctor Arquitecto por la Universidad Politécnica, 1992. Soy, en el buen sentido de la palabra, bueno. Ahora estoy algo cansado, pero sigo atento y curioso.

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