A tribute to the German-American architect.

*Messeturm, Frankfurt am Main (photo © the author)*

The brown ink, the hat - no, Helmut Jahn clearly wasn’t averse to the odd mannerism. His designs bore testament to this as well, but unlike others, Jahn wouldn’t allow his body of work to be defined by such mannerisms, or by one particular style. He was a restrained postmodernist, just as he was a playful modernist. But above all else - and this is to be understood as a compliment - he was the most American of all German architects.

Born in 1940, near Nuremburg, Jahn experienced the devastation of the Second World War firsthand. Moreover, he’d have been exposed to the daunting remnants of the gargantuan Nazi sites the war left behind. He’d go on to match their scale with his own buildings decades later. But the expression of Jahn’s giant airport terminals and skyscrapers would be the complete antithesis to the German fascists’ monuments to themselves. Playfulness, openness and exuberance are traits hardly ever found in German architecture, regardless of era or political context. Rather than in the kind of bulkiness that’s regularly employed by German architects to indicate solidity, Jahn’s Teutonic heritage would manifest itself in a penchant for bringing engineering to the forefront - for example in the vast canopies used in several edifices - and a reluctance to have postmodern decorum define his work.

*James R Thompson Center, Chicago (photo © Shutterstock)*

That this work was never as self-referring as that of a Gehry or Calatrava was seen by some as an indication of a journeyman architect, rather than a creator of walk-in pieces of art. Others considered it proof of considerable scope, as only megalomaniacs would ignore context and the needs of others under any circumstances. So even where Jahn made compromises, these didn’t lead to committee designs.

That Jahn had left West Germany behind at the earliest stage possible (right after he’d finished his studies at Technische Universität in Munich in 1966), to head for Chicago is indicative of the man’s architectural attitudes and style. The scale, the can-do attitude, and also the typically corporate character of his buildings were all as American as apple pie and Christmas bonuses. In this context, it’s particularly ironic that his most controversial design is that of a government building, the James R Thompson Center in Chicago, which is allegedly prohibitively expensive to operate, whereas the many corporate high-rises he built are generally still in fine fettle.

*O’Hare Terminal 1, Chicago (photo © Shutterstock)*

With very few exceptions, Jahn’s buildings don’t confront, but entertain. His Terminal 1 at Chicago O’Hare Airport added some much-needed sparkle after a decade of almost exclusively dreary functional American airport architecture, among which 1984’s Tom Bradley Terminal at LAX, for all its utter beigeness, must be considered a high point. In distinct contrast, Jahn’s O’Hare terminal provided increasingly commoditised air travel with exuberantly lit, acid disco underground walkways downstairs and biright, postmodernised art déco departure halls upstairs.

Over the course of the past two decades, Jahn’s profile was somewhat lowered - courtesy not solely of his advancing age, but also as he was finding himself up against the Zeitgeist. Post-9/11, his work hence lost much of its playfulness, proving once again how adaptable a creative Jahn was.

Helmut Jahn’s buildings generally don’t leave one overawed. They are no temples or monuments, but serve, entertain and please travellers, workers and passers-by, day in, day out. They add a bit of je-ne-sais-qoui to everyday life’s proceedings. Like a dapper hat does to a working man’s outfit.

Helmut Jahn, 4. I. 1940 - 8. V. 2021
R.I.P.