Betonschleife, Three Loops, Swiss brutalism icon, Ralph Bänziger, © Karin Bürki. Explore more on Heartbrut.com
Betonschleife, Three Loops, Swiss brutalism icon, Ralph Bänziger, © Karin Bürki. Explore more on Heartbrut.com
Betonschleife, Three Loops, Swiss brutalism icon, Ralph Bänziger, © Karin Bürki. Explore more on Heartbrut.com
Betonschleife, Three Loops, Swiss brutalism icon, Ralph Bänziger, © Karin Bürki. Explore more on Heartbrut.com
Betonschleife, Three Loops, Swiss brutalism icon, Ralph Bänziger, © Karin Bürki. Explore more on Heartbrut.com
Betonschleife, Three Loops, Swiss brutalism icon, Ralph Bänziger, © Karin Bürki. Explore more on Heartbrut.com

Three Loops

The Art of Risky Play
Picture of Words & images: Karin Bürki

Words & images: Karin Bürki

In the 1970s, brutalist housing estates introduced a radical new approach to playgrounds. Features such as concrete polygons, ramps and holes in walls encouraged children to take risks and explore the harsh world out there. One of the most striking brutalist playsculpures in Switzerland can be found at Grünau School in Zurich Altstetten. ‘Three Loops’ resembles three gently undulating waves of oversized chewing gum strips in concrete. Varying in colour from pastel blue to washed-out terracotta, it was a smash hit with the kids. However, not quite in the way its creator intended.

Three Loops is the work of Ralph Bänziger. A junior architect at the time, he was tasked with designing  the playground. Taking inspiration from Max Bill’s ‘Infinity Loop’, Bänziger aimed to create an immersive, walk-on sculpture. The original design also included a shallow water basin, but this proved too costly to maintain.

To the kids, Bänziger’s congenial loops simply looked like the perfect skating ramps –  both the play sculpture and the new craze hit Zurich in 1977. However, Bänziger and the school authorities were not keen on the idea. Metal skirting boards were swiftly added, spoiling much of the fun.

Despite this joy-killing move, Bänziger’s play sculpture remains very popular. The hard concrete loops still offer considerable potential for daring feats, and the brutalist aesthetics of the Grünau housing estate provide a great backdrop for hip-hop videos.

 

In today’s hyper-protective world, the notion of deliberately putting children at risk seems absurd. But is it? While it’s certainly true that kids needed plenty of plasters when exploring brutalist playgrounds in the 1970s, they also developed excellent resilience, confidence and risk-navigating skills. In light of widespread sedentary lifestyles, loneliness and social media-induced brain rot, risky play is gaining currency again. Climbing towers and urban adventure playgrounds, originating in the Netherlands and Germany, adapt the concept of brutalist playgrounds to today’s needs.

Measured, high-risk play – so the idea goes – are good for mental health and help forge social contacts. An increasing number of experts and playground designers also argue that the occasional broken bone is better for child development than total safety.

On the subject of fractures: one of the concrete loops partly collapsed this spring. The entire area around the play sculpture has since been cordoned off. This hands the school authorities the perfect chance to restore Ralph Bänziger’s pioneering work to its original state and remove the skirting boards. Let’s return to risky play.