[Centre Pompidou: My Private Museum]

 In 2004, Japanese architect Shigeru Ban established a temporary office on the fifth floor of the Centre Pompidou in Paris, in preparation for the new Centre Pompidou-Metz to be built in Metz, a city in eastern France. At the time, while studying abroad, I was fortunate—after a difficult process—to secure an opportunity to work on the Pompidou-Metz project. This allowed me to spend a year and a half within the Centre Pompidou in Paris. During those years, driven by an intense desire to learn, the spaces of the Centre Pompidou that I encountered daily became a vivid architectural school in themselves. While the Pompidou-Metz project taught me how an architectural project evolves, the Paris Centre Pompidou—our office environment—allowed me to experience firsthand the power and value of architecture. To me, the Centre Pompidou was far more than a library or museum. It was a space that moved the city and shaped history. From the public library, where an immense archive of cultural and artistic knowledge was freely accessible, to the permanent collection that preserved the trajectory of modern art, and the temporary exhibitions that continuously introduced new artists and emerging artistic currents—the building was both a source of inspiration and a cultural crucible. Above all, the sloping plaza, so distinct within its urban context, functioned as a generous urban void capable of accommodating the performances of anyone and everyone. There, individuals could freely express their ideas, stage their performances, and share new thoughts and freedoms.

 In architecture, innovation and creativity in space do not merely arise from fulfilling functional requirements. Rather, they are intrinsically connected to proposing new spatial orders that transcend their time. What the Centre Pompidou ultimately envisioned was not a fixed domain, but a space of infinite potential—capable of continuous transformation. Its historical significance lies not only in its efficient organization of museum and library functions, but in its articulation of a deeper architectural proposition regarding structure and spatiality in modern and contemporary architecture. It represents an evolution toward non-fixed space—space conceived as indeterminate and infinitely adaptable, capable of accommodating the expansion and transformation of programmatic needs. In this sense, it marks a continuation of the trajectory initiated by Le Corbusier’s Dom-inno system, where space is liberated from the constraints of the wall. Yet without the structural ingenuity of engineer Peter Rice, who resolved this radical design, the Centre Pompidou might never have existed. Throughout architectural history, spatial innovation has always been inseparable from structural innovation. The transition from Romanesque crossing vaults to the pointed arches of Gothic cathedrals was not merely a technical evolution—it reflected profound philosophical and sociological transformations of their time. Structural evolution has consistently expanded architecture beyond spatial necessity into ideological and historical expression. In this context, Peter Rice’s invention of the steel gerberettes at the Centre Pompidou was not simply an engineering solution to support the 44.8-meter trusses. It symbolized the architectural aspiration to liberate space from structural constraint.

 Even today, I am reminded of the Centre Pompidou’s enduring value when I realize that engineering achievements from decades ago remain relevant—and that few spaces have surpassed its level of innovation. The architect’s imagination gave rise to the engineer’s imagination, and through the convergence of humanistic vision and technological ingenuity, spatial evolution became possible. This remains one of the Centre Pompidou’s greatest legacies. Architecture is not the product of a single architect alone. It is a synthesis of time and space—a collective art form created by a visionary client capable of recognizing the right architect, an engineer capable of creatively resolving structural challenges, and users who bring vitality and meaning to the space itself. For me, the Centre Pompidou became, almost by destiny, the starting point of my architectural journey. It continues to shape my architectural thinking and process to this day. And so I ask again: Are we truly prepared for architectural innovation? 

2018.10

Jeonghoon Lee

[This article was commissioned by Bazaar]