With Les Bains des Docks, a serene oasis on Le Havre’s gritty
waterfront, Ateliers Jean Nouvel reinvents the public pool.
Passengers arriving by
ferry or ocean liner in the French port of Le Havre have, for decades,
satisfied the urge to step on the gas pedal and speed away. This ancient
industrial harbor, along the English Channel, has long had a reputation as a
dreary, gritty place. After the city’s devastation in World War II, it was
rebuilt on a tight budget, largely by architect Auguste Perret, adhering to his
famous dictum: “Concrete is beautiful.” Despite Perret’s talents, travelers—on
trans-Atlantic crossings or en route between the U.K. and Paris or elsewhere on
the Continent—rarely felt inspired to linger.
But that may be changing. With
the city’s diminished role as a ferry transfer point since the Chunnel’s
completion, and the obsolescence of its aging port infrastructure, Le Havre has
been energetically reinventing itself. The current revitalization aims to
transform some of France’s oldest docks into a leisure, cultural, and
residential district, with both new construction and the adaptive reuse of
low-lying warehouses.
On and near Le Havre’s historic
Quai de La Réunion, once aromatic with coffee cargo, will be two anchor
projects by Ateliers Jean Nouvel. The Sea and Sustainable Development Center,
anticipated for 2010, will feature a 328-foot-tall tower, and exhibition spaces
devoted to the historic, economic, and environmental significance of this
maritime region. It will also house a meteorological station and a restaurant
with panoramic views. But the architect’s companion project, Les Bains des
Docks, directly across an inlet, is already finished, and with spectacular results—truly,
as the French would say, a tour de force.
The $29 million Les Bains des
Docks aquatic center, reimagines the concept of a public pool. On the exterior,
the boxy precast-concrete shell, painted gun-metal gray, echoes the scale and
simple massing of surrounding warehouses. Only the playful composition of
rectangular apertures hints at an interior transcending the ordinary or
functional.
Inside the front door and up a
run of blanched terrazzo steps, the pure white interior—animated by daylight, water,
and a quasi-Cubist composition of blocky three-dimensional forms—begins to
reveal itself, and the effect is dazzling. Beyond the reception desk, atop the
entry stairs, you catch your first oblique glimpse of a pool, behind glass. The
ultra-white interior (flowing seamlessly into protected exterior spaces within
the enveloping shell) features mosaic floors, ceilings, and walls of
20-by-20-millimeter (about 3⁄4 inch) vitreous tiles. These luminously
translucent pâte de verre squares establish spatial continuity and a module for
the 92,570-square-foot building: No tile was cut.
The same small-scale grid
textures the exterior cladding, which Nouvel originally intended to leave pale
and unpigmented. But prototype panels quickly convinced him “to accentuate the
[exterior/interior] contrast, exploiting the particular and surprising light of
Le Havre,” says Mirco Tardio, principal project architect. The resulting,
dark-skinned monolith evokes a geode—its stony exterior hiding a partially
hollowed inner realm, lined in geometric crystals.
The radiant, double-height
reception zone leads to changing areas, equally white and bathed in sunlight,
confirming the initial impression: Miraculously missing are the familiar traits
of public pools—booming echoes; reeking chlorine; and grungy, windowless,
institutional locker rooms. Instead, Nouvel took poetic inspiration from
natural lagoons and Roman baths, offering myriad ways to experience water.
Once you’ve relinquished your
shoes, suited up for swimming, and crossed the disinfecting-footbath threshold,
you’re ready to explore the possibilities. Les Bains offers three major
options: recreational pools, an aqueous spa, and dry cardio-fitness areas.
The sequence unfolds through
spaces inhabited by water, light, shadow, and moving bathers. Water and
swimmers flow from inside out and back again. An Olympic-size pool—open to the
sky and surrounded by tiled decks and walls carved with cubic niches and
apertures to the docklands—offers outdoor use year-round. (In winter, a warm-water
channel wafts swimmers between indoors and out.) A waterfall, a superb
hydro-massage, rushes into another outdoor pool.
Inside, following the Roman
model, a dozen different options exist: hot and cold baths, whirlpools, saunas,
a Turkish bath, fountains, sprays, soothing “rain,” turbulent jets, and pools
spilling into one another. In the area for children and families, a hidden,
tortuous slide offers an exhilarating plunge, while nearby, a veil of water
surrounds a pool, and fine geysers shoot up from a floor. Here, the only
splashes of color appear: wall, ceiling, and floor cushions resembling giant
Starburst chews.
Nouvel’s team carefully limited
reverberation. Glossy, stretched-fabric ceilings of varying heights mute noise,
as does the blocky geometry, articulating intimately scaled areas. Mostly you
hear sounds of water: trickling, gushing, roaring, trilling, or lapping.
Les Bains appeals
simultaneously to the senses of sound, touch, and sight. Shafts of sunlight
filter in, flicker off the water and shiny ceilings, and refract through the
translucent tiles. (Nighttime illumination subtly glows from underwater or
semihidden sources overhead.) Sight lines and apertures offer oblique views
between pools, to the sky, or out to the dock and harbor. In this sanctum of
serenity, you never lose touch with the outside world.
But lest you think you’ve died
and gone to swimming heaven, a few glitches remain. Maintenance of all-white
spaces poses obvious challenges—especially with 700 to 2,000 users daily. In
high-traffic zones, not all underfoot grout is pristine, and some floor tiles
have come loose. (Nouvel’s and the center’s teams are currently devising
solutions.)
That said, the experience here
is extraordinary—firmly anchored in Le Havre, yet luring you to float
blissfully away.
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