The Irony of Reykjavík

Arriving in Reykjavik, Iceland, the northerly capital of the land of fire and ice, one immediately notices the vibrant buildings of corrugated metal in different styles from Victorian to Art Deco.

WorldNews Info Wire2 min read
The Irony of Reykjavík

Arriving in Reykjavik, Iceland, the northerly capital of the land of fire and ice, one immediately notices the vibrant buildings of corrugated metal in different styles from Victorian to Art Deco.

What happened

Until the late 19th century, the Icelandic individuals lived in damp and dark turf homes known as torfbæir which employed layers of timber for insulation layers as protection from the harsh climate. Individuals burned peat to warm the layered mud walls and went on wood, soil and lava stone. "For the first thousand years we lived in windowless houses, " guide Lalli explains. Due to the shortage of wood and construction material, wealthy individuals like priests and merchants imported timber house kits from Scandinavian countries and Russia. "They arrived like LEGO sets, " Lalli laughs, adding, "which is why Reykjavík has an eclectic mix of architectural styles."

By the late 1800s, corrugated iron had become Iceland's building material of choice. Unlike elsewhere, where the metal was largely reserved for the construction of barns, warehouses and industrial sheds, Icelanders built their homes with it. Though initially the metal sheets were applied for making roofs and cladding walls, they shortly became popular enough to cover entire timber surfaces to protect them from the elements. Today, plenty of streets can be seen lined by homes, shops, buildings, and churches built of corrugated iron in different designs. Recognised as an essential part of Iceland's architectural past, centuries old metal houses more than 100 years old are protected as heritage buildings. These brightly painted facades are among some of Reykjavík's officially protected landmarks, protected as part of the nation's heritage. They remind visitors that beauty can originate in necessity, and that the most enduring architecture is not always built from the grandest materials, but from a community's ability to adapt to Nature's vagaries.

The bottom line

Taken together, the developments around the Irony of Reykjavík point to a situation that is still moving, and the coming days should bring more clarity.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *