OverHolland studies the relationship between architectural interventions and urban transformation, with the focus on towns and cities in Holland.
On the architectural construction of a courtyard
This article offers a close architectural reading of the courtyard building in Nieuw Kralingen designed by Hans van der Heijden Architects. Through a detailed analysis of form, proportion, materialisation and spatial order, the author investigates how the courtyard operates as a coherent architectural construct rather than merely a residential typology. Central to the argument is the notion of the courtyard as a “folded façade,” in which classical architectural systems—columns, openings, rhythm and repetition—are redeployed to structure both space and experience. The article examines how ordinary building materials are precisely dimensioned and assembled to produce decorum, atmosphere and identity without reliance on spectacle or costly detailing. Elements such as masonry columns, arched windows and roof articulation gain architectural meaning through repetition and proportional relationships. Particular attention is paid to the contrast between the open, articulated lower façade and the restrained upper order, which together frame the courtyard as a calm, enclosed interior world. By situating the project within a broader classical tradition of order, proportion and decorum, the article demonstrates how contemporary housing architecture can achieve richness and coherence through disciplined design rooted in constructional logic. The courtyard is presented as an architectural structure that fosters communal life while affirming the craft and authority of the architectural discipline.
Copyright (c) 2026 Endry van Velzen https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0
Book review of Autonomous Architecture and the City: Design and Research in the Education of La Tendenza’ PhD thesis, Delft University of Technology, 2023 By Henk (H.J.) Engel
Copyright (c) 2026 Harm Tilman https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0
This article re-examines the palazzo as a residential building type and argues for its renewed relevance in contemporary housing design and architectural education. Rather than approaching the palazzo as a historical or stylistic artefact of the Italian Renaissance, the author frames it as a typological principle rooted in spatial organisation, repetition and urban context. Central to this redefinition is the palazzo’s centripetal structure: a multi-storey urban building organised around a courtyard that functions simultaneously as circulation space and architectural core. Drawing on historical examples from Florence, Genoa, Naples and Venice, as well as on theoretical reflections by figures such as Berlage, Quatremère de Quincy and Martí Arís, the article clarifies the distinction between the palazzo and superficially similar building forms such as the almshouse courtyard or the closed urban block. A typological matrix is introduced to demonstrate how the stacking and repetition of standardised dwelling units around a courtyard generate consistent yet image-free ordering principles. This matrix serves primarily as a didactic tool, enabling students and designers to engage with type as an abstract, generative framework rather than a stylistic model. The article further situates the contemporary rediscovery of the palazzo within a broader architectural shift towards craftsmanship, tectonics and the “ordinary,” following criticism of late-modern formalism and spectacle architecture. Through examples from design practice and international teaching studios, the palazzo is shown to offer an alternative to normative housing models by integrating density, spatial hierarchy and urban presence. The author concludes that the palazzo’s enduring value lies in its capacity to reconnect housing design with disciplinary knowledge, professional authority and the city as its primary context, making it a productive reference for addressing today’s housing challenges.
Copyright (c) 2026 Hans van der Heijden https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0
This article analyses the emergence of Rotterdam as the Netherlands’ foremost high-rise city by examining the development of high-rise buildings in the city centre between 1940 and 2030. Using an atlas-based methodology, the authors present five map series corresponding to distinct periods of urban transformation: 1940–1970, 1970–1985, 1985–2000, 2000–2015 and 2015–2030. Buildings taller than 70 metres—the municipal definition of high-rise—are visualised in three dimensions, allowing shifts in spatial distribution, function and scale to be studied over time. The atlas combines cartographic analysis with policy documents, planning debates and key architectural projects to trace how ideas about high-rise buildings have evolved. In the post-war reconstruction period, high-rise buildings were embedded in modernist ideas of city formation and functional separation, often resulting in monofunctional environments and negative perceptions of living at height. From the 1970s onward, criticism of these modernist principles led to a temporary slowdown in high-rise development and a renewed focus on urban livability. From the mid-1980s, high-rise buildings re-emerged as instruments for economic revitalisation, densification and city marketing. Office towers initially dominated, followed by a strong shift towards residential high-rise after 2000, as the municipality sought to reintroduce housing and urban life into the city centre. Throughout the article, attention is paid not only to what was built, but also to who shaped the discourse—municipal authorities, architects, developers and critics—and how power relations influenced outcomes. The article concludes by situating the current temporary high-rise moratorium (2023–2026) as a moment of reflection, highlighting ongoing tensions between skyline ambitions, housing demand and the quality of the urban living environment.
Copyright (c) 2026 Iris van der Wal, Esther Gramsbergen, Yağız Söylev, Elif Soylu https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0
This article revisits the Atlas Randstad Holland, first published in OverHolland in 2005, by extending its cartographic and analytical framework with a new reference year: 2020. Building on a long-term mapping project that visualises 170 years of spatial development in the western Netherlands, the authors add a new layer representing the period 2000–2020 to the composite map of the Randstad. Using updated digital datasets, GIS techniques and recent landscape classifications, the article reconstructs changes in built-up areas, infrastructure and landscape and places them within a broader historical perspective. The analysis reveals four distinct types of spatial development in the past two decades: large contiguous urban extensions largely resulting from earlier national planning policies (notably VINEX locations); fragmented, scattered development driven by market forces and the absence of national spatial policy; stand-alone developments such as holiday parks in sensitive landscapes; and clusters of logistics and distribution centres along motorways. Together, these patterns demonstrate a clear shift from nationally coordinated spatial planning towards locally driven and market-led development. By projecting recent urbanisation onto long-term landscape structures, the article shows how the historical relationship between landscape, infrastructure and settlement patterns has weakened since the late twentieth century. Whereas earlier urban development was strongly guided by natural conditions and later by coherent national planning frameworks, spatial development since 2000 has become increasingly fragmented and inconsistent. The authors conclude that the prolonged absence of national spatial policy has resulted in a lack of spatial coherence, growing pressure on landscapes, infrastructure bottlenecks and an inability to address major societal challenges such as housing shortages, climate adaptation and energy transition. The updated atlas is presented not only as an analytical tool, but also as a critical instrument for rethinking future spatial planning in the Randstad.
Copyright (c) 2026 Yvonne van Mil, Reinout Rutte https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0
A transnational view on the origins of the Delft School
This article critically reassesses the historiography of architectural education at Delft University of Technology by adopting a transnational perspective on the origins of what later became known as the “Delft School.” Departing from the commonly repeated narrative that modernism only gained a foothold in Delft after the Second World War, the author argues that modernist ideas were already deeply embedded in the intellectual, social, and educational culture of the institution from its earliest phases. Through a close reading of Bouwkunde in Delft: a chronology 1842–2000, the article exposes the limitations of a predominantly image-based chronology that obscures crucial theoretical, social, and international exchanges. Central to the argument is the role of architecture schools as nodes within transnational networks of knowledge exchange. Figures such as Eugen Gugel, Cornelis van Eesteren, H.P. Berlage, Jacques van Marken, and B.H. Pekelharing are examined as mediators between technological rationality, social reform, and architectural theory. The article demonstrates how influences from Germany, France, Switzerland, and international modernist organisations such as CIAM shaped Delft’s educational culture well before 1945. Particular attention is paid to student activism, petitions, lectures, and publications that foregrounded social housing, urban planning, and architectural theory as integral components of modern architectural education. By reconnecting architectural pedagogy to broader debates on technology, social reform, and aesthetics, the article challenges the binary opposition between traditionalism and modernism that dominates postwar interpretations of the Delft School. It concludes that modernism at Delft should be understood not as a postwar rupture, but as a long-term, transnationally informed process rooted in nineteenth- and early twentieth-century educational and social practices.
Copyright (c) 2026 Henk Engel https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0
Bouwkunde in Delft: a chronology 1842–2000
This article examines the historical development and intellectual profile of architectural education in Delft, with particular attention to the shifting relationship between architecture, engineering, history, and design. Focusing on the Faculty of Architecture and the Built Environment at Delft University of Technology, it traces how architectural education evolved from a technically oriented discipline into a complex field in which design, historical knowledge, theory, and societal engagement are increasingly intertwined. The article situates this evolution within broader changes in Dutch higher education and professional practice. It discusses how early Delft education emphasised construction, structural logic, and material knowledge, while gradually incorporating architectural history, urbanism, and cultural reflection. At the same time, it highlights persistent tensions between design-driven curricula and historically oriented research, particularly regarding the position of architectural history within a predominantly technical university. Special attention is paid to the institutional and pedagogical consequences of this imbalance. The article argues that the marginalisation of historical research and education weakens both architectural practice and heritage care, as designers risk losing awareness of the historical depth and cultural significance of the built environment. International comparisons demonstrate that architectural programmes elsewhere often integrate historical scholarship more structurally into architectural training. Ultimately, the article advocates a renewed appreciation of architectural history as an essential component of architectural education in Delft. Rather than viewing history as an auxiliary discipline, it should be recognised as a critical resource for understanding spatial challenges, informing design decisions, and strengthening the societal relevance of architecture. The future of architectural education, the article concludes, depends on a balanced integration of design, technology, and historical knowledge.
Copyright (c) 2026 Aart Oxenaar, Jesse Verdoes https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0
Interview about the Architecture, Urban Planning, Landscape Research Agenda of the National Cultural Heritage Agency (RCE)
This article presents an in-depth interview with Jaap Evert Abrahamse, Eva Röell, and Gabri van Tussenbroek on the development of the Architecture, Urban Planning, Landscape Research Agenda of the Dutch Cultural Heritage Agency (RCE). Conducted in early 2025, the conversation explores the motivations, structure, and intended impact of this agenda, which forms part of a broader national knowledge strategy. Central to the discussion is the conviction that research and knowledge are the foundation of effective heritage management. The interview elaborates on the agenda’s guiding principles, notably its systems-based approach, which seeks to transcend traditional typological classifications of buildings and sites. Instead, the agenda connects architecture, urban planning, landscape, infrastructure, and subsoil within a coherent analytical framework. By doing so, it aims to situate individual objects—such as bunkers, farms, or industrial complexes—within their wider spatial, historical, and functional contexts. A key theme is the relationship between heritage research and contemporary societal challenges, including climate adaptation, spatial pressure, sustainability, and changing patterns of use. The interviewees emphasise that the agenda is not a policy document but a flexible instrument designed to identify knowledge gaps, guide future research, and enhance the societal relevance of heritage studies. Drawing inspiration from the National Archaeology Research Agenda (NOaA), the document is intended to function as a long-term, dynamic reference framework. The article also addresses concerns about the future of architectural history and heritage expertise, particularly in education. It argues that sustained investment in research, historical knowledge, and interdisciplinary collaboration is essential to ensure the continued care and meaningful interpretation of the built environment.
Copyright (c) 2026 Bernard Colenbrander, Reinout Rutte https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0
This article examines contemporary dilemmas in the care and interpretation of cultural heritage through the lens of “guilty” or contested historical artefacts. Using literary analysis, architectural theory, and recent public debates, it explores how cultural objects and sites become morally charged when their origins or historical associations conflict with present-day values. The discussion opens with Andrew O’Hagan’s novel Caledonian Road, in which an art historian publicly dismantles the authority of the British Museum’s Enlightenment Gallery, exposing colonial plunder and aesthetic fabrication beneath its celebrated displays. This fictional episode serves as a point of departure for reflecting on real-world heritage practices, including institutional strategies of contextualisation and reputation management. The article situates these issues within broader heritage theory, drawing on the Venice Charter and the concept of the historic urban landscape, while also addressing critiques that argue the notion of “heritage” has become overstretched and analytically problematic. Through case studies such as De Bazel’s former headquarters of the Nederlandsche Handelmaatschappij in Amsterdam and the former SS prison at Camp Vught, the article demonstrates how buildings can become permanently tainted by the “lived time” of colonial exploitation, war, and violence. Particular attention is paid to the tension between lived historical experience and contemporary “experienced time,” shaped by consumer culture, commemorative practices, and demands for authenticity. The article argues that attempts to neutralise, erase, or sanitise difficult histories often reveal deeper societal discomfort rather than offering genuine ethical resolution. Ultimately, it contends that responsible heritage care requires sustained engagement with historical context, moral ambiguity, and emotional complexity, rather than reliance on aesthetic appreciation or curatorial framing alone.
Copyright (c) 2026 Bernard Colenbrander https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0
Henk Engel introduces Autonome architectuur en de stad Ontwerp en onderzoek in het onderwijs van La Tendenza Delft (KNOB and OverHolland), 2023, 341 pp.
Copyright (c) 2023 Henk Engel https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0
Book review of Arne Schirrmacher / Maren Wienigk (eds.) Architectures of Science The Berlin Universities and Their Development in Urban Space Berlin (JOVIS Verlag), 2019, 304 pp. Paoli Fusi Multiple Campus Szenarien für die Universität der Zukunft Berlin (JOVIS Verlag), 2019, 450 pp.
Copyright (c) 2023 Cor Wagenaar https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0
The intersection of learning, space, and technology has become a significant focus in recent years. The design of educational environments for the future has emerged as a critical concern within campus architecture. These new university buildings often bear concise brand names that are abbreviated keywords, such as ‘collaboration’, ‘creativity’, or ‘flexibility’. Notable examples include UN Studio’s ‘Echo’ and ‘Pulse’ by ector hoogstad architecten, designed as new and innovative learning centres for the TU Delft campus. Despite their different architectural qualities, these projects share a common conceptual thread—integrating space and technology to create immersive learning experiences. In light of the rise of artificial intelligence, it is essential to consider how learning spaces can be adapted to this new era. Moreover, in a data-driven society, it becomes critical to question the nature of learning itself. The origins of these inquiries can be traced back to the mid-20th century’s experimental era of cybernetics, where the convergence of human and machine learning left an unforgettable mark on architectural history.
Copyright (c) 2023 Georg Vrachliotis https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0
Drienerlo, the campus of the University of Twente (UT), represents one of the most interesting episodes in Dutch modern architecture and town planning. Moreover, its importance is not limited to that alone: the realisation of the campus in Twente was an integral part of a socio-pedagogical experiment. Perhaps for this very reason, the campus grew into a contact zone for different generations of Dutch modernists from Willem van Tijen (1894- 1974) and Samuel van Embden (1904-2000) to the Forum group. Forum is a Dutch architectural review that in the period 1959-1963, with Jaap Bakema, Aldo van Eyck, Herman Hertzberger and others on its editorial board, was the birthplace of so-called ‘structuralism’, for which non-Western building forms served as models, such as North African casbahs, Indian pueblos and Egyptian mastabas and pyramids. ‘The Story of Another Idea’ with which the first issue of the then-new Forum editorial office opened, nr. 7 1959, turned against the ‘functionalism’ of the older generation of modernists and elicited a wave of reactions, including a harsh critique by Van Tijen. All the same, it is precisely the open master plan for de TH Twente of Van Tijen and Van Embden (1962) that ultimately provided a veritable testing ground for a range of architectural ideals and approaches. Not only do the leading examples of modern architecture on campus bear witness to this but also a host of unrealised plans, such as Oswald Mathias Ungers’ entry to the competition for student housing (1963) and the only partially implemented structuralist plans for the centre of the campus by Piet Blom and Bert Smulders (1966), the building for Applied Mathematics, Computing Centre, Social Sciences and Electrical Engineering by Leo Heijdenrijk and Jos Mol (1969) and the pyramids and mastabas for student housing by Herman Haan (1970).
Copyright (c) 2023 Esther Gramsbergen , Yağız Söylev https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0
Visual quality campus UTwente reconsidered
There is probably no university campus in the Netherlands about which more has been drawn and written than that of the University of Twente (UT). The establishment of the first and only true campus university in the Netherlands, located on a 150-hectare wooded site between Hengelo and Enschede, resulted in a rapid succession of master plans and visual quality plans. In addition, numerous articles, books and a dissertation have been published. This interest is not without reason. First of all, the history of the origins of what would become the third technical college in the Netherlands is of particular interest for the development of higher education due to its experimental nature. Secondly, hidden amongst the greenery are some of the most evocative architectural structures from the 1960s and 1970s, such as De Boerderij (The Farm) by Piet Blom, the Chemical Engineering building by Samuel van Embden and Jacques Choisy and a small canteen building by Joop van Stigt. Then there are the special student housing projects, including the mastabas, pyramids and patio complex designed by Herman Haan. Thirdly, since the construction of the campus in the 1960s, the immediate surroundings have changed to such an extent that the campus can no longer be regarded as an independent entity. Since the rapprochement between the university and the adja cent business park at the end of the last century, the municipality of Enschede and the university have developed a coherent spatial development concept.
Copyright (c) 2023 Joost Emmerik, Evelien van Es, Lara Voerman https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0
Using a timeline and a network map, the development of the Twente campus and the architects involved are compared with those of the other two technical universities in the Netherlands. The Twente campus was the third in line, after Delft and Eindhoven. How do the three campuses compare in terms of urban embedding, spatial layout and building design? What are the similarities and differences, and which architectural concepts migrate between the campuses? For this comparison, we use the Delft and Eindhoven campus-atlases published in OverHolland 18/19. To understand and compare the three campuses over time, we have distinguished two periods of spatial development: 1950 – 1975: Conception and Consolidation, and 1975 – 2015: Transformation and Hybridisation. In the conception phase, we see marked differences in the spatial layout. In Delft, the campus took shape as a monofunctional ‘sector’, a separate urban district, which could be extended in two directions. Student life, i.e. student dorms and societies, remained in the existing city. The technical universities in Eindhoven and Twente were completely new. In Eindhoven, the first compact high-rise campus emerged in a park-like setting. In Twente, the first and only residential university was established, which was an educational experiment unique to the Netherlands and more in line with North American/UK examples. The spatial developments begin to converge during the second period of transformation and hybridisation. Due to stagnation in student numbers in the 1970s and 1980s, there was initially little development on the three campuses during this period. Things only started moving again after the introduction of the bachelor/master struc ture in 2002. This made it easier for international students to study in the Netherlands, leading to a significant increase in student numbers and a greater need for student accommodation and other facilities.
Copyright (c) 2023 Yvonne van Mil, Yağız Söylev https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0
Like the campus-atlases for Delft and Eindhoven in OverHolland 18/19, this contribution documents the spatial design and transformation of the University of Twente (UT) campus in a series of maps and analytical drawings. The starting point for this is a comparison between the master plan of the campus from 1962, the actual situation in 1975 and the situation in 2015. These three reference dates provide a good overview of the developments that have taken place on the campus over the past few decades. The atlas therefore provides background information for the following reflections in this issue. The master plan from 1962, drawn up by Willem van Tijen and Samuel van Embden formed the framework for the first construction activities on the campus. In 1975, eleven years after the first buildings were completed, the original design ideas have crystallised and the campus has taken shape more or less as envisaged by the founders and designers from the start. Forty years later, in 2015, the campus is in the middle of a major transformation process. A general reorientation of the original design of the university and the influx of students have left their mark on the spatial form. What stands out is not just the densification of the campus but also the hybridisation; the abandonment of original functional zoning and the introduction of new design principles. In addition, various first-generation university buildings which had since seen better days have been replaced or redeveloped.
Copyright (c) 2023 Otto Diesfeldt , Esther Gramsbergen , Yvonne van Mil, Iskandar Pané , Yağız Söylev https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0
In collaboration with TU Delft’s Department of Architecture, the ‘Campus Utopias’ graduate research course was conducted with students from the Architecture Department of the Middle East Technical University (METU) in Ankara, in 2021. The focus of the research was the METU campus, an iconic example of modern architecture in Turkey, and the goal was to discover the intentions of its designers. As well as the architects of the campus, the term ‘designer’ was used to refer to the institutions and individuals who had been involved in the establishment of the university. The original campus, built between 1962 and 1970, was a masterpiece of urban design and architecture. Merging the urbanistic ideals developed at the International Congresses of Modern Architecture (CIAM 1928-1959) and the formal codes of the International Style with common elements of regional architecture, the campus created a unique environment. The overall design, reflected in plan schemes, infrastructural systems and construction techniques, was the outcome of post-war experimental research in architectural engineering. Another reason for its prominence, besides its material qualities and stylistic maturity as a genuine interpretation of modern architecture, were the social values crafted and disseminated by this modernist institution. Providing a sense of identity and belonging, the campus served to foster a spirit of community. Traces of desired modernity can still be found in the institutional presence of the campus, partly in its architectural image and partly in the association between this image and the democratic, liberal social life it provides.
Copyright (c) 2023 Ayşen Savaş https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0
Three modern campuses, three revolutions, three experiments
Thirty years after the Second World War, architecture culture was dominated by a discourse critical of the once cherished modernism and marked by scepticism towards its canonical narrative. However, other modernisms still emerging outside Europe and America, especially in geographies that had not been battlefields of war, faced their own socio-political struggles and formed strong ties with that earlier modern movement. The legacy of modernism lived on in the so-called developing countries located in a geopolitical sphere identified with the ‘third world’. In Brazil, Mexico, Cuba, Venezuela, Colombia, Chile, Turkey, India, Iraq, Nigeria and Singapore there was a continuing interest in the pragmatic and experimental aspects of modern architecture. Economic realities justified this persistence, as did the engineering discipline’s familiar slogan of ‘maximum efficiency for minimum effort and investment’. Unlike in Europe and North America, and contrary to expectations, the industrial revolution did not materialize as expected in these countries and in some cases it can even be said that it did not occur at all.3 ‘Revolution’, on the other hand, became a popular slogan and was readily adopted by the masses. In countries like Mexico, Turkey or Cuba, the term revolution had little to do with industry. Rather, it was associated with ideology, abrupt social changes, fundamental transformations in political power, and public revolts against undemocratic governments. How successful these social revolutions were and how much the architecture they produced reflected their ideologies is debatable. Influenced by the worldview of positivism and the idea of instrumentality in applied sciences, universities established in these countries did indeed embrace revolutions, in some cases becoming the breeding ground for reformist ideologies or symbolizing their ideals in others. They were the visible symbols of newly established nation states and reflected revolutionary values.
Legend to the article Water system and urban form in Holland. A survey in maps: 1575, 1680, 1900 and 2015
Copyright (c) 2021 The editors https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0
The city gate is long gone but anyone entering the centre of Dordrecht via the Sint Jorisbrug will still be conscious of crossing a boundary. Rather than the bridge spanning the Spuihaven, which is pretty inconspicuous, it is greenery along the water that makes this a recognisable transition point. On the left-hand side the eye is caught by a group of majestic trees standing in the deep gardens of the houses lining the Vest. One of those houses, Vest 84, was recently rebuilt from the ground up. The project was both designed and built by Ber Mooren. The house is not big. With a footprint of approximately 45 m2 and built over two floors it is a compact home for a one-child family. Size says very little about the complexity, however. The design employs great ingenuity in resolving several issues: the need to respect the on-site remains of the medieval town wall, the technical limitations of self-build with only a small team of helpers, and a limited budget. And because the Vest is part of a protected townscape there was another aspect to consider: ensuring that the new architecture was in keeping with the historical character of the city centre.
Copyright (c) 2021 Esther Gramsbergen https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0
Book reviews of Bert Buizer, Piet Veel en Hans van Weenen (eds.), Atlas van het Oer-IJ-gebied Jan Boomgaard, Clé Lesger en Kees Zandvliet (eds.), Honderdnegende Jaarboek van het Genootschap Amstelodamum. Oeroud Amsterdam. Een zoektocht naar de vroegste geschiedenis van de stad Ranjith M. Jayasena, Graaf- en modderwerk. Een archeologische stadsgeschiedenis van Amsterdam
Copyright (c) 2021 Guus J. Borger https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0
Between tradition and modernism, an ensemble in Le Havre
I recall a photo of an entrance portico during construction. Soberly black-and-white. The limpid Le Havre light streams through the facade openings. The hall behind is filled with workmen enveloped in clouds of Gitanes and dust, busily bush hammering the top layer of the cast-in-situ concrete on walls and ceiling. It is one of the entrance porticos in the ensemble of buildings that line the south side of Place de l’Hotel de Ville, designed immediately after the war by the architect Auguste Perret. If you enter the building via one of these entrances today and walk into the adjacent stairwell, you will notice that the bushhammered surfaces are enclosed by narrow concrete borders. These smooth borders have been carefully excluded from the violence of the pneumatic hammers. They frame the gravelly substance that the workmen brought to the surface. The treated and untreated concrete together frame the panelling: small precast concrete panels with a reddish aggregate for the hall and mahogany panelling and doors around the apartment entrances in the stairwell. The hall and stairwell are consummately articulated: you notice lines, divisions, the proportions. But this is more than a geometric order. The materiality, too, is overwhelming. The tone-on-tone of the different materials, all employed au naturel, evokes a particular atmosphere in the hall and stairwell. A melancholy atmosphere perhaps, with echoes of the rich furnishing of bourgeois town houses. The classical references serve to deflect attention from the actual date of construction. Before the war? After the war? Let’s step back for a moment.
Copyright (c) 2021 Endry van Velzen https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0
This edition of OverHolland turns the spotlight on the water management system in a part of the Netherlands known as Randstad Holland, namely the area between the Maas and IJ rivers, the North Sea coastal dunes and the Utrechtse Heuvelrug. This study was prompted by a unique, four-sheet map, on a scale of 1:50,000, published in 1901: the Polderkaart van de landen tusschen Maas and IJ (Polder map of the lands between Maas and IJ), made by Willem Hendricus Hoekwater (1865- 1956), a teacher in Amsterdam. It was the first comprehensive overview of the water system in this area, which is almost entirely below sea level and is regarded as the main driver of the Dutch economy. It is the most urbanised and most densely populated part of the Netherlands. Hoekwater’s map shows the various water management entities in the area and how those entities discharged excess polder water into waterbodies outside the dykes. The map is also remarkable from a graphic point of view. Gradations in the colours of the various water capture areas (boezems) make it possible to follow the course of the water from boezem to discharge point.
Copyright (c) 2021 The Editors Krabbe https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0
The Dutch landscape is about to be reconfigured yet again. This time not in order to make the delta inhabitable through reclamation or to organise it more efficiently for agriculture through land consolidation but, in this age of climate change and population growth, to make the land more resilient and liveable for human beings, flora and fauna. Owing to sea level rise, an increase in torrential rainfall events, summer droughts, progressive soil subsidence and saline seepage, water-related problems are on the rise. Fundamental to the organisation of the lowlying western part of the Netherlands is the socalled polder-boezem system. Created to drain the soggy soil and then keep it dry, this water system consists of ditches, leats, drainage canals, navigation canals, waterways, city canals, pondsand lakes connected by scores of hydraulic works. The water level in this system is controlled by dykes, dams, sluices and pumping stations, with excess water being drained via the boezems into the major rivers and the sea. While the need for continuous water management and drainage is incontestable, it is clear that the system is not up to the task of dealing with future problems. By the end of the twentieth century, hydraulic engineers were already drawing attention to the inadequacy of the usual measures, such as installing more powerful pumps, building higher and stronger dykes and letting in more water in times of drought. In 2000, to ensure a safe and effective water management system in the new century, the Committee for Water Management for the 21st Century established the ‘water triad’: a three-step plan of water capture followed by water storage and, as and when necessary, water drainage. This strategy has been the basis of every spatial project in the Netherlands since 2003.
Copyright (c) 2021 Inge Bobbink, Esther Gramsbergen https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0
W.H. Hoekwater’s Polderkaart van de landen tusschen Maas en IJ (Polder map of the lands between Maas and IJ) (p. 46) is a compelling illustrationof just how complex and artificial the watersystem in this part of the Netherlands was around 1900. It was the outcome of centuries of human interventions in the delta aimed at improving drainage, increasing flood protection and facilitating growing economic prosperity. One the defining features of deltas is their dynamic nature: changes in the ‘natural’ system and in society prompt continuous adjustments to the water system. This is clearly explained in the article ‘Water system and urban form in Holland. A survey in maps: 1575, 1680, 1900 and 2015’, in a historical analysis of the period 1575–2015. This article builds on that and looks forward to the future of the urban delta. What challenges does the delta have in store that will force us, once again, to adjust the water system? And what are the implications of that for the appearance of the delta in 2100 and for the organisation of water management?
Copyright (c) 2021 Niels Al https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0
The Dutch Waterscape: An intricate historical system with lessons for the future
‘You cannot step into the same river twice, for fresh waters are ever flowing in upon you’ is a saying attributed to the Greek philosopher Heraclitus. And like Heraclitus, any study of water systems must acknowledge constant flow as an essential property. Studying the Netherlands from the perspective of water, therefore, means taking constant flow into account. In fact, the polder land of the Netherlands depends on dykes and dams that facilitate the flow of natural rivers and artificial canals. Maps generally show water as a blue line, which appears static, but in fact it is constantly moving. The analytical maps of the Dutch water system in ‘Water system and urban form in Holland. A survey in maps: 1575, 1680, 1900 and 2015’ aim to overcome the notion of water as a static entity by focusing on flows and connections and by adding arrows that demonstrate the complex system of water drainage and channelling. Such a spatial system - effectively a waterscape - requires careful water management and negotiation among all stakeholders, creating an intricate governance structure, albeit one that is not widely understood or recognised.
Copyright (c) 2021 Carola Hein https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0
Maps and the history of Dutch water management
The detailed account of discussions between the Waterlanders, the reeve and Amsterdam provided by the 2019 book Broek en Waterland. Regionale samenwerking en conflicten, 1281-1811, makes it clear that Broek in Waterland and fellow villages were continually engaged in realising influence and achieving aims through negotiation. The book also shows that the material environment that was the consequence of negotiation in turn exerted considerable influence on those negotiations. The influence of the human participants was realised by non-human actors such as money, wood or earth, with water playing a major role of course. The water infrastructure of the region was pivotal to the power those towns and villages were able to accrue. The power of the district water board turned out to be relative because it was only one of several influential administrative bodies. In practice there was also considerable overlap in administrative functions and roles in Waterland, with members of a town or village council often serving on water boards as well. This interweaving of administrative functions challenges the unquestioned impression of all-powerful, independent water boards and little administrative overlap in Dutch water management history.
Copyright (c) 2021 Maurits Ertsen https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0
We regard a cartographic image as scientific output provided it is accompanied by a theoretical underpinning and explanatory notes. The study ‘Water system and urban form in Holland. A survey in maps: 1575, 1680, 1900 and 2015’ brings together the overlapping and complementary methodologies and expertise of the Rijksdienst voor het Cultureel Erfgoed (RCE – Cultural Heritage Agency) and the Faculty of Architecture at Delft University of Technology (TUD). Both institutions have considerable experience with the use of maps, in terms both of the research itself and in documenting the results of that research. This entails the use of (Historical) Geographic Information Systems with a comparable methodology of notation and verification. The RCE’s extensive Historical Geographic Information System (HGIS) of the water system in the western part of the Netherlands was the starting point for this cartographic survey. Its aim is to make the essence of the data and knowledge of the water system in this database accessible, and to relate it to research into the urbanisation of this region. The Delft cartographic method was employed in producing the intelligible and specific map series reproduced in this publication along with a written explanation of what the maps reveal. In this article we go into more detail about the method and the chosen reference years and provide a compact guide to interpreting each of the map series, accompanied by a description of the sources and processes employed.
Copyright (c) 2021 Otto Diesfeldt, Iskandar Pané https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0
In 1901, the Polderkaart van de landen tusschen Maas en IJ (Polder map of the lands between Maas and IJ) appeared in print. This large coloured wall map was the work of W.H.Hoekwater of Charlois, a teacher by profession.The map had an educational purpose: Hoekwater wanted to show just what a ‘singular country’ this low-lying area of the Netherlands was, built and maintained through the ‘sheer willpower and genius of earlier and current inhabitants’. His explanatory notes consist of a brief technical introduction and, most notably, a summary and description of the storage drainage systems and associated hydraulic engineering works, with tables showing the different water levels. Hoekwater had two versions of his explanatory notes printed, one for municipal, polder and water boardadministrators and one for school children. Hoekwater’s map showed the hydraulic engineering works in the area between the rivers Maas and IJ, and how those entities discharged into the waters outside the dyke system. Hoekwater had drawn the map on his own initiative, without having been commissioned to do so by a district water board or any other organisation. Since the sixteenth century, large wall maps of various water board districts had been made at the behest of dyke and polder boards. Those older maps show the territory of the relevant water board complete with watercourses and the main ngineering works under its control. None of those maps transcends the level of scale of a single water board district. But it is not just its scale that makes Hoekwater’s unique. Hoekwater depicts the entire water system and its operation in an innovative way, using colour schemes to enable viewers to follow the flow of water. Erratum Rowin van Lanen is erroneously not listed as author of 'Water system and city form in Holland'. Note 1 on page 47 should read: This research was a collaboration between the Cultural Heritage Agency and the Faculty of Architecture at Delft University of Technology. The texts were written by Jaap Evert Abrahamse, Menne Kosian and Reinout Rutte; they serve as explanatory notes to the maps, which were compiled by Otto Diesfeldt and Iskandar Pané on the basis of a historical GIS created by Menne Kosian and Rowin van Lanen, and expanded under the supervision of Yvonne van Mil by Thomas van den Brink and Arnoud de Waaier. The writing of this text would not have been possible without the cooperation of Guus J. Borger, who provided critical comments on an earlier version, of which grateful use was made.
Copyright (c) 2021 Jaap Evert Abrahamse, Menne Kosian, Reinout Rutte, Otto Diesfeldt, Iskandar Pané, Yvonne van Mil, Thomas van den Brink, Arnoud de Waaijer https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0
Since the turn of the century, high water levels in cities in coastal and delta areas have given rise to ever-increasing problems. It is not just the many cities in the ‘Global South’, burdened with inadequate defences against high water levels, that are having to contend with increased flooding. Even relatively wealthy cities in Europe and the United States, the damage wreaked by Hurricane Katrina in New Orleans (2005) and by Hurricane Sandy in New York (2013) still fresh in their minds, have good reason to be concerned. In Europe, as recently as November 2019, the Grande Dame of water cities, Venice, suffered its worst acqua alta (high water event) since 1966. Large parts of the city were under water for an extended period of time, with huge consequences not only for the city’s many art treasures and heritage structures, but also for the economy, the well-being and the habitability of the city. Several months later, in February 2020, the Netherlands, dubbed by some ‘the safest delta in the world’, had to pull out all the stops in order to withstand the combined forces of high riverwater discharge and a spring tide at sea. For the first time, the many riverbed widenings carried out in the years 2005-2015 in the context of the national ‘Room for the River’ programme, were able to demonstrate their effectiveness. Largeparts of the river area, normally used for arable and livestock farming or as nature areas, were subjected to controlled flooding, thereby preventing the inundation of cities along the rivers.
Copyright (c) 2021 Han Meyer https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0