Olga Lupol/Dreamstime.com Amsterdam has its origins in a fishing village established more than 700 years ago; by the 15th century, it was Holland’s primary port, a center of business, and a place of great wealth. Its position as one of northern Europe’s preeminent cities has continued to today, and that status is reflected in Amsterdam’s vibrant architectural legacy.
Earlier versions of the descriptions of these buildings first appeared in 1001 Buildings You Must See Before You Die, edited by Mark Irving (2016). Writers’ names appear in parentheses.
Seventeenth-century Amsterdam was one of the wealthiest cities in the world. During its Golden Age, the city was laid out in a crescent shape with concentric streets and canals in ever larger rings from the port to the city boundary. The rings were bisected by straight canals and narrow streets that fanned out from the port. Within the confined spaces of the islands created by the canals, the prosperous merchants of Amsterdam built their houses.
To distinguish Protestant Amsterdam from the Gothic style of Roman Catholic France and Spain, the Amsterdam style drew on the Classical. Sometimes referred to as Plain Amsterdam Renaissance, its main features were red-brick facades with strips of white sandstone, known as “rashers of bacon,” and stepped gables. Pilasters in colossal order were crammed onto elongated facades, but high-pitched roofs could not be hidden by a Classical cornice because the zigzag shape of a stepped gable was not Classical, and architects had to be innovative.
Oudezijds Voorburgwal 239 (1634) is ascribed to Philips Vingboons. He was influenced by Jacob van Campen whose mansion at Keizersgracht 177 (1625) is described as Amsterdam’s first Classical building. Keizersgracht 319 (1639) and Rokin 145 (1642–43) are mature examples of Vingboons’s style, which was widely adopted. In time, the gable became more decorative, as at Oudezijds Voorburgwal 187 (1663), where figures of enslaved people with rolled tobacco leaves reflected the owner’s business. Here the pilaster facade is topped with Ionic capitals in the central section, and Corinthian capitals on the neck gable. An imitation of Vingboons’s style in humbler houses was jokingly referred to as “contractors’ Classicism,” as seen at Herengracht 70–72 (1643). (Mary Cooch)
Amsterdam Town Hall, now the Royal Palace, is one of the most confident expressions of Northern Renaissance culture of the mid-17th century. It was projected in 1639 as a replacement for a Gothic town hall, and construction began in 1648, following the Treaty of Münster, an event that gave strength to Dutch political and religious independence, and boosted trade.
Jacob van Campen was the architect of the Mauritshuis in The Hague, a smaller building of great sophistication, and he was the leading Classicist in the Netherlands, having visited Italy around 1615. His five-story facade is organized in the traditional form of a palace, with a projecting center section and wings. A double tier of pilasters—an idea probably taken from the book L’Idea dell’Architettura Universale (1615) by Andrea Palladio’s principal disciple, Vincenzo Scamozzi—locks the repetitive windows into a grid formation, and a fine cupola, completed in 1664, marks it on the skyline. The yellow stone was brought from Germany to replace the usual brick of the Low Countries, although it has darkened over time.
The interior was decorated with symbolic painting and sculpture—the debtor’s court has a scheme based on the fall of Icarus—culminating in the double-height central hall. The lack of a grand entrance is typical of the democratic Dutch spirit, and the seven arches represent the seven provinces of the Netherlands. At ground level on the central axis is the Tribuna, arranged for trying legal cases in public view.
The Town Hall was in civic use until 1808, when it was converted into a palace for Napoleon Bonaparte’s brother, Louis Napoleon Bonaparte, with furniture in the Empire style that remained in place after it became the official residence of the Dutch royal family. (Alan Powers)
Synagogue of the Holy Community Talmud Torah In 1671 the leaders of the Sephardi, or Spanish-Portuguese Jewish community, of Amsterdam chose the work of local architect Elias Bouman from a number of designs for the new synagogue of the Holy Community Talmud Torah in Amsterdam. The synagogue replaced an older synagogue on Houtgracht that had functioned since 1639 but had become too small for the growing, prosperous Sephardi population of Amsterdam. The building was consecrated in 1675 with an impressive ceremony, followed by eight days of festivities. Some scholars believe that certain elements of the design, especially the prominent buttresses, were inspired by Rabbi Jacob Judah Leon’s famous model of the Temple in Jerusalem (c. 1640). The building is one of Amsterdam’s outstanding architectural monuments and is still used by the local Sephardi community.
The synagogue’s majestic interior has remained intact since the inauguration. The rectangular design is dominated by a huge Holy Ark of Brazilian jacaranda wood. On top of the Holy Ark is the Decalogue, apparently influenced by a similar practice in Reformed churches. At the other end, the Tebah, the platform from which services are led, is situated opposite the usual location in many other synagogues, where this element appears right in front of the Ark. A total of 3,000 wooden piles support six brick barrel vaults, five of which can only be reached by boat. Four huge Bremen-sandstone columns support the three wooden barrel-vaulted ceilings. The vertical arrangement of the benches is typically Sephardi and provides space for 1,227 men and 440 women. (Emile G.L. Schrijver)
Spaarndammerbuurt Housing BlocksOf the three housing blocks designed by Michel de Klerk for Amsterdam’s growing industrial working class, the third, Het Schip—The Ship—is the best known. While that design loosely resembles a ship, the group of buildings are more significant as an example of the humanitarian and benevolent approaches to social housing that were developed in the Netherlands following the passing of the Housing Act in 1901. Het Schip is in Spaarndammerbuurt, an area of Amsterdam defined by the railway and maritime industries. De Klerk added his own architectural spirit to the letter of the new housing laws, and, borrowing from the traditions of craftsmanship associated with the shipbuilding industry, he designed an apartment block that broke with existing utilitarian notions of working-class housing. The city council was outraged that De Klerk’s plans included such luxuries as cast-iron window casements, winged horses, patterned brickwork, and a functionless, yet emblematic tower. However, De Klerk got his way and Het Schip still stands complete with its mastlike tower. It was described as a “worker’s paradise,” and, given that De Klerk incorporated 18 different types of apartments into the 102 units, each with its own bath, at that time it probably was. His belief in the expressive capacity of architecture contributed in these buildings to material improvement for thousands of Dutch workers. (Gemma Tipton)
WoZoCo shakes up the usual stereotype of the cozy retirement cottage or bungalow. Thirteen of the hundred apartments in this block, reserved for people over 55, are cantilevered out from its north facade into thin air—looking from afar like giant oversized balconies. At first sight this daring aesthetic seems purely an example of architectural gymnastics. However, it is a design solution that juggles the competing demands of the brief to increase density—getting a hundred apartments from a footprint for a block of 87—while maximizing the light inside and maintaining the green space outside. Extra costs for the structural bracing required to stabilize the cantilevered flats were offset against gains in the increased number of living units on the site. This is an ingenious solution to the pressure on this postwar garden suburb of Amsterdam to increase residential density.
This pressure is typical for the country as a whole: the Netherlands is already one of the most densely populated countries on the planet, and new design solutions are constantly being sought to balance the growth of the built environment against the maintenance of open public space—in a country where the land is often humanmade. These pressing issues have created a very robust and experimental architectural culture in the Netherlands. MVRDV is one of the most celebrated practices to emerge from this milieu, with the questions of density and public space being central to their work. Their WoZoCo building scheme, completed in 1997, has to be seen in person, for its edgily unbalanced look and to experience the unnerving feeling of standing underneath one of the massive cantilevered units. (Rob Wilson)
When you walk along the wharf of Amsterdam’s IJ River you are presented with a truly unusual sight—what appears to be a large colorful container ship floating on the water is actually an immense housing complex. This is Silodam, a building of innovative design created by Dutch architects MVRDV to help solve the housing shortage in Amsterdam.
Contained within the ten-story-high, 65-foot-deep (20 m) building are 157 apartments and 6,458 square feet (600 sq m) of commercial space. What is remarkable, however, is that these different industrial and living components are interwoven throughout the structure, meaning that floors fold and intersect with one another in intriguing and flexible ways and a system of passageways crisscross the entire building.
The different colors and materials used on the facades and in the interior corridors define what the space inside is being used for. This means each “neighborhood” of four to eight “houses” has its own identity. Furthermore, each housing unit differs both in orientation and size. A tenant can own half a block, a whole block, or a diagonal unit spanning two floors. The internal walls can even be moved or removed to suit individual tenants. Some units come with terraces or balconies, others with patios.
A pleasing living environment was a high priority in MVRDV‘s design, and there are many individual and communal spaces throughout. To make up for the lack of views for some residents, the causeway pierces the building and projects into the water to form an accessible public terrace offering views over the historic harbor. The concrete pillars that hold up the structure also act as a “marina” where residents can moor their boats. With Silodam, completed in 2002, MVRDV succeeded in creating a multifunctional and eye-catching architectural unit that sits harmoniously within its surrounding environment. (Jamie Middleton)
Living Tomorrow PavilionThe unusual shape of the Living Tomorrow Pavilion houses a vision of how our home and work life will change as we embrace new technologies. The pavilion, a temporary structure, is a combination of a laboratory, a gallery, and an auditorium where companies can exhibit and test their technologies. Only recyclable materials or those with a low environmental impact were used in the construction of the 104-foot-high (32 m) building. Its metal-clad flowing curves and slopes demonstrate UN Studio’s concept that the vertical and horizontal parts of the building should form one continuous, inside-out shape. Inside the building is a wealth of advanced technological features: you can use your phone to open locked doors and send your mail, or use the built-in computers to check your fridge inventory and order automatically cooked convenience foods. There are cocoon beds and bathroom mirrors that give you information on the weather and the news, and even washing machines that can detect a colored item among your whites. Living Tomorrow, the company behind the project, recognized the folly of trying continually to predict the future, so it put a time limit on it. Completed in 2004, the building was originally scheduled for demolition at the end of 2008 because the backers believed that by then everything exhibited within either would be out of date or already in daily use. (Jamie Middleton)
The Rijksmuseum is one of the world’s great museums. The challenge for the architects tasked with a restoration completed in 2013 was to remove the accretions that had accumulated after the completion of the original 19th-century building designed by Pierre Cuypers and make it fit for the demands of 21st-century visitors.
While much of the work involved restoring the existing building, there were also some additions. Most significant was the glazed roofing of the two central courtyards which created two atria, linked by a newly excavated underground passage. As well as providing space for ticketing, retail, and catering, these interventions entirely reorder the circulation of the museum. The use of pale stone flooring enhances the sense of lightness, contrasting with the brickwork of the original building. Rectangular chandelier-like structures are suspended overhead, making the soaring height of the atria feel less imposing.
The new underground link sits beneath the original passageway through the center of the building. This has also been restored, with glazed walls and access to the atria. It is well loved by locals and tourists as it provides an unusual cycle path through the center of a major cultural institution.
Other major additions include a new Asian pavilion—an irregular-shaped, two-story structure with walls clad in pale stone and glass—and an atelier building that has been specially designed for the preservation and restoration of artworks. (Ruth Slavid)