Stone and water

Saying goodbye to Chris's family, the three of us continued northward for Switzerland. A sequence of three trains and a bus lead us through Zurich, Chur, and Ilanz before depositing us at Therme Vals. Our route was certainly not the most direct, but between the mountains and train schedules, it proved to be both necessary and sufficient. We were all impressed by the carefully timed Swiss train schedule, which allowed for just enough time to purchase tickets at each of our stops before catching the next ride.

Therme Vals made its way onto our itinerary primarily as an architectural pilgrimage, but only slightly behind that reason was the allure of a couple days at a spa in the Swiss alps. We were all made familiar with the building through Ted Brown's theory course during our first semester, and Peter Zumthor's name certainly crops up around the Warehouse often enough. That said, we'd seen numerous official photographs, but no significant plans or other drawings. Given this gap in our knowledge, it was certainly understandable when, upon arrival, I had to assure Beth that we had arrived at the proper destination. The hotel complex that greeted us was a whitewashed jumble that seemed to be doing its best to hide its cheapness by becoming too boring to look at.

The lobby, however, showed a spark of creativity and good taste, and we soon came to understand that Mr. Zumthor had inserted the bath house into the middle of the complex as well as renovated certain key parts of the hotel, including the lobby, the upscale restaurant, and the top-tier of rooms. Our rooms, of course, were not among those that would have been graced by his hand, but they were satisfactory, if not up to our unusual American standards. (Beds on this continent are a joke.) We wasted no time in donning our bathing suits, bathrobes, and slippers and shuffling over to the baths, where we at last found the magnificent stone architecture we had been seeking.

Zumthor certainly understood how to strip the building down to its essentials—both functionally and æsthetically. The only three materials present themselves with any prominence: concrete, quartz, and water. Where most pools are surrounded by a deck, Zumthor uses the walls themselves to contain the water. The effect is a dramatic, to say the least. The baths feel much larger than they are (especially when eye-level is close to water-level), and the rooms feel as if they were carved into the stone rather than being constructed with walls. Most interesting is a network of cuts in the ceiling that allow thin lines of daylight to play on the stone, casting a solar clock of sorts on some walls. At some moments the concrete of the ceiling seems to float above the rooms, allowing the more majestic stone to continue skyward without being directly associated the lesser material. Frustratingly, other moments show the ugly concrete cap for what it is, and the effect is somewhat diminished. Certain details, most notably the window frames, suggest a strained budget, so I'd like to believe that the details that irk me also arise from financial constraints. Overall the building is quite pleasing to the eye and comfortable for bathing, and I'd be happy to overlook what seem to be its faults if I had the chance to return.