Gutted I couldn’t get in although when I visited, there was someone there. The exterior hides a remarkable interior, the photo essay at https://failedarchitecture.com/photo-essay-how-long-is-the-life-of-a-building-tallinns-linnahall/ shows it off well.
Brutally imposing, the tower is 314m tall – 170m to the observation deck. There’s a lift but you have to pay extra to use the stairs. It has got bullet holes at the base (from the 1991 revolution) and the concrete should withstand more than three hundred freeze/thaw cycles. The picture shows the seams of the 2.5m tall rings that were poured as a sliding mold moved up. From the deck, I could see the Gulf of Finland easily and got some good shots of Tallinn. Well worth a visit.
No point in having the Olympics if no one can see what’s going on. So this was built and did the job well.
The final post in this series featuring the Eye Filmmuseum. Graceful lines and a sense of movement that resembles the path of something skipped across the water to me. Utterly beautiful.
Of all the things I enjoy about this building is the sense of movement. It is unrelenting.
The Eye Filmmuseum is very good at hiding its bulk. This angle gives an impression of the mass and imposition on the ground beneath it as well as some hints to the underlying construction techniques.
So my oldest child said this reminds them of a whale. I think it might be ambivalent to those swarming around and inside it.
Amidst the stark lines, grey skies and wet wood, this place is warmly welcoming to visitors.
This intuitively reminds me of the lines and pores of the skin on my hands which is changing as I get older. But there is also dissonance because of the relative rate of change…
I’m beginning to feel like this building is something of an obsession. Maybe it’s the clean lines fuzzed with the texture of its ‘skin’ which appear to give it a sense of vitality and life.