Library, Azores

Some buildings you can take in at a glance. Some you can't. They resist immediate understanding, a few photos in a magazine. Some things you just can't capture with a camera – the different sensations as you walk through a space, the subtle light changes, the temptation to touch. That is why the new Central Library of the University of the Azores is not a photogenic building, even if it seems so.

The library is the most recent work of a.s* atelier de santos, a young office based in Lisbon. When they won the competition to design this building, back in 1997, Célia Gomes and Pedro Machado Costa, the people behind a.s*, were just 25. Nowadays they are in the front line of the new generation of Portuguese architects. That doesn't mean much – the main characteristic of this generation is precisely its diversity. In this case you could say a.s* seeks indefiniteness because they attempt to find new architectural possibilities rather than adopt existing models.

This project began as a critical interpretation of a place. Forced to start from a pre-existing element (the old library) and to occupy a vacant lot on a boundary of the university campus, they have positioned the building as a pivotal point so that it could create a new urban front, articulating the campus vis à vis the city. The way the library is fitted into the city street is quite discreet. Not that the building goes unnoticed, but it is more expressive on the inside.

The building has a very clear functional structure as well as a complex form, almost a paradox. Yet despite avoiding a linear approach, a.s* starts from a quite simple gesture. The interior appears as a single space divided by a system of ramps. Connecting the two tops of the building (and therefore connecting the campus and the city from the inside), the ramps divide and structure it. They act like a promenade architecturale that defines public and private paths and thus also the spaces that develop around them, playing with different levels. There is a sense of continuity in the movement through the building but there is also one of fragmentation, with the fragments sewn together by one path. This building has its own topography.

It is easy for the visitor to feel free inside as he is always allowed to observe this inner space as a whole. However, his body is conducted along predetermined pathways. There is an intention of working the limits, diluting or emphasizing them. The difference lies in the point of view. For instance, a visual connection is not necessarily accompanied by a physical connection. It is as if each individual space has been conceived as a backdrop to another, all mutually observing themselves. The way the eye is invited to discover the building seems almost voyeuristic. All these spatial games introduce visitors to a wide range of different spatial experiences.

In a way, the library is a deceptive building, offering us different perceptions at every step. Both its skin and its interior are dynamic. Light plays an important role in this. Natural light is carefully controlled. It enters the building through ceiling openings, creating different environments throughout the day, defining different spaces within the same space. It rests on the concrete walls, exposing their raw texture, invoking the volcanic landscapes of Azores. Light helps give this work a tactile dimension. And as night falls and the lights are turned on inside, the opaque metallic grid in the widest facade seems to dissolve and the great glass walls reveal the interior of the building.

The notion of transparency and opacity is always present, as is the sense of lightness and weight, and the opposition between lucidity and artifice. This is a work of contrasts. Its virtue is the coherence within this complexity. Sometimes it can almost seem too much, but in the end it seduces you.