JSAH7704_08_Books 473..485 Chapters 2 and 3 focus on the decision to build. In the former, titled “Problems of the Site and the Struggle to Enlarge the Church,” Sankovitch carefully situates the early history and planning of the current building within the context of urban devel- opments in the neighborhood of Les Halles between the thirteenth and sixteenth centu- ries. Chapter 3 deals with patronage and convincingly brings Saint-Eustache under the umbrella of King Francis I’s ambitious urban projects of the late 1520s, along with Pierre Lescot’s design for the new Louvre and Domenico da Cortona’s interventions at the Hôtel de Ville. Sankovitch establishes a connection between Francis I and Saint- Eustache through the prevôt de Paris, Jean de La Barre, a representative of the king, who was directly involved in the financing and planning of the new church. Through a comparison of Saint-Eustache and Notre-Dame, she also draws a symbolic connection between the urban projects of Francis I and those of the Capetian king Philippe Auguste (1165–1223), who first es- tablished Paris as capital city. Titled “A Revised Building History, the First Master, and Serlio,” chapter 4 presents a close analysis of the building’s architec- tural features; this ninety-page chapter, which features 199 illustrations, constitutes the core of the volume. Here, Sankovitch details the chronology of the building’s first construction campaign and provides a me- ticulous visual analysis of the architecture and decorations that characterize its differ- ent phases. She identifies the publication of Sebastiano Serlio’s Book IV (1537) as a defining event for the project of Saint- Eustache, after which the classicizing vo- cabulary of its decorative apparatus took an “orthodox” turn. Chapter 5 deals with the identity of the building’s architect. Since the mid- nineteenth century, the design of the church has been attributed to, in turn, Domenico da Cortona, Pierre Lemercier, and Jean Delamarre. Given that the ar- chival record has proved insufficient to confirm a name, Sankovitch’s aim is not to establish who designed the church but rather to create a “stylistic profile for the architect” (135). This approach, which brings the author into discussions of a variety of relevant buildings—including Saint-Maclou in Pontoise; Saint-Merry, Saint-Etienne-du-Mont, and Saint-Victor in Paris; Saint-Martin in Triel; Saint-Pierre in Caen; and the churches of Villiers-le-Bel and Momtargis—thus resituates Saint- Eustache in the landscape of early Renais- sance architecture in France. Sankovitch makes a compelling argument for attribut- ing the building to Delamarre, and she also sketches a possible career trajectory for him. As Étienne Hamon points out in his response, her hypotheses have been sup- ported—if not definitely confirmed—by recently discovered documentation on De- lamarre’s work in Paris in the 1510s. The book’s final two chapters consider the design choices made at Saint-Eustache and the principles regulating the project. Chapter 6, “The Presence of the Past at Saint-Eustache from Cluny to Pavia,” ex- plores a variety of sources that help to situ- ate the design among French Romanesque and High Gothic buildings. Sankovitch paints a complex picture of the relationship between Saint-Eustache and other Flam- boyant buildings—a picture that has since been enriched by the recent contributions already noted on Flamboyant architecture in Paris and beyond. Chapter 7, “Gothic and Late-Gothic Strategies of Architec- tural Composition,” examines the design methods employed by the architect of Saint-Eustache. Sankovitch identifies two operative methods: first, the “repeti- tion of the same form at a varied scale and proportions” (207), and second, the “dec- orative variety within the same or similar forms” (213). She then proceeds to illus- trate how these principles were applied in the church’s composition, thus providing the reader with a clear analytical frame- work for comprehending its complexity. It would be unfair to linger on the im- perfections of a dissertation that was not intended to be published “as is,” but the ed- itorial choice of not translating into English the numerous quotations from French lit- erature seems questionable, as it prevents many nonspecialist readers from fully ap- preciating the subtleties of Sankovitch’s rea- soning. This shortcoming, however, does not reduce the overall quality of a text that reads well, is supported by solid documen- tation, presents compelling arguments, and brings forth a theoretical approach that stands strong almost three decades after it was devised. The corrections that Hamon suggests in his response (xi–xiii) are of a chronological rather than a theoretical nature, and they do not undermine the validity of Sankovitch’s work. The Church of Saint-Eustache in the Early French Renaissance is an authoritative reference on Saint- Eustache and a fundamental contribution to the literature on late medieval and early modern European architecture. SARA GALLETTI Duke University Note 1. This literature is exemplified by the following works, all of which focus on Paris: Agnès Bos, Les églises flamboyantes de Paris (XVe–XVIe siècles) (Paris: Picard, 2003); Tiziana Pezzella, Saint- Etienne-du-Mont: Storia di una chiesa parigina (Bologna: Pitagora, 2009); Étienne Hamon, Une capitale flamboyante: La création monumen- tale à Paris autour de 1500 (Paris: Picard, 2011). Other recent volumes treating the broader landscape of late Gothic and early Renaissance architecture include Yves Esquieu, Du gothique à la Renaissance: Architecture et décor en France, 1470–1550: Actes du colloque de Viviers, 20–23 septembre 2001 (Aix-en-Provence: Publications de l’Université de Provence, 2003); Monique Chatenet et al., eds., Le gothique de la Renaissance: Actes des quatrième rencontres d’architecture europé- enne, Paris, 12–16 juin 2007 (Paris: Picard, 2011); Ethan Matt Kavaler, Renaissance Gothic: Architec- ture and the Arts in Northern Europe, 1470–1540 (New Haven, Conn.: Yale University Press, 2012). Itohan Osayimwese Colonialism and Modern Architecture in Germany Pittsburgh: University of Pittsburgh Press, 2017, 344 pp., 8 color and 74 b/w illus. $49.95 (cloth), ISBN 9780822945086 For a work of historical scholarship, Ito- han Osayimwese’s Colonialism and Modern Architecture in Germany has a surprisingly compelling opening. In the first senten- ces, the author stages a meeting in Berlin during the summer of 1913, where, gath- ered around a massive oak table, are “some of the men now considered to be the doy- ens of modern architecture in Germany”: Henry van de Velde, Hermann Muthesius, Bruno Taut, Walter Gropius, Hans Poelzig, Paul Schultze-Naumburg, and Dominikus Böhm, as well as some “lesser-known col- leagues and protégés,” including Carl Re- horst, Adolf von Oechelhäuser, Konrad Wachsmann, and—the lone woman in the group—Margarete Knüppelholz-Roeser (3). On the agenda is a discussion of “the status 478 J S A H | 7 7 . 4 | D E C E M B E R 2 0 1 8 of architecture in the German colonies,” which leads to a conversation about ideas and language that, as Osayimwese suggests, “arefamiliartoreaderstoday,”ontopicssuch as the excessively ornamented “style archi- tecture” in the protectorate of Kiaochow, the lack of objectivity in the floor plan of “ ‘parvenu’ villas” in the city of Qingdao, and the certain success of developing standard housing types and prefabricated houses in Dar es Salaam. Perhaps, Osayim- wese imagines the group murmuring, “there is something to be learned from Germany’s costly colonial adventure after all” (3). The meeting did take place, but not as described above. As the author notes, her depiction of the event is “fictitious in its finer details” (4). Most of those mentioned were not even present. Through this mise- en-scène, Osayimwese in one elegant stroke introducesthemainprotagonistsinherbook aswell asthe central theme that pervadesher narrative, namely, “how colonial encounters and imperial entanglements affected archi- tectural developments within Germany it- self” (5). Not coincidentally, the meeting is staged in Berlin and not in Dar es Salaam (Tanzania), Douala (Cameroon), Windhoek (Namibia), or Qingdao (China). The book then can be understood, as the author states, as a response to that provocation for post- colonial studies articulated in 2000 by Dipesh Chakrabarty: the need to pro- vincialize Europe.1 Even if such an exercise is not entirely new in architectural history, doing it for the German context is important for at least two reasons. First, current histories have tended to overlook the fact that parts of the genealogy of modern architecture in Germany, the birthplace of the Bauhaus, need to be sought elsewhere, particularly outside Europe. Osayimwese convincingly fills this lacuna. Second, the scholarship on German colonial architecture is rather sparse, and what does exist is dispersed in publications not readily available or acces- sible to an international (let alone Anglo- phone) readership. In that respect, this book is a welcome addition to the scholar- ship on architecture in what were—from the late nineteenth century until 1919, when the Treaty of Versailles temporarily put an end to Germany’s international ambitions—territories under German rule or parts of its sphere of influence: South- west Africa, Togo, Cameroon, East Africa, Kiaochow, and the Pacific colonies.2 Osayimwese also points to some of the ex- cellent recent historical scholarship on Germany’s colonial past.3 And yet, in both its content and its methodological ap- proach, this book has relevance for the study of colonial architecture well beyond that of the German case. Osayimwese’s account is organized into five chapters, most of which are closely interconnected. The opening chapter, dealing with the colonial presence as seen at international exhibitions held in Ger- many, in particular the 1896 Berlin Trade Exhibition, underlines a crucial methodo- logical aspect of the study. The 1896 exhi- bition provides a case par excellence of what Osayimwese calls a “colonial archive,” a concept that is crucial to her argument that architectural practices and forms trans- formed “in response to new conditions such as colonialism” (14). Drawing on theoreti- cal reflections on the archive by art his- torians like Thomas Osborne and Okwui Enwezor and postcolonial thinkers such as Ann Laura Stoler and Achille Mbembe, Osayimwese discerns two modalities of the colonial archive: one that sees it as “an encyclopedic documentation” and one that views the archive as functioning as “a sys- tem governing discourse,” defining what is being said and what is left out (17). Allow- ing her to think beyond notions like influ- ence and translation, the archive becomes for Osayimwese a tool for “explor[ing] the profusion of writing, idiosyncratic lan- guage, and distinctive rhetorical formula- tions associated with both modernism and colonialism in Germany during this period” (18). The various types of colonial materials displayed at exhibitions in Germany— whether re-created native villages, model colonial houses, ethnographic artifacts, or photographs illustrating the achievements of the German colonial enterprise—form an important starting point for the book’s broader analysis. The theme of exhibitions as archive resurfaces in later chapters, in particular chapter 4, which considers the 1914 Werkbund Exhibition, that founda- tional moment in the history of Germany’s modern architecture, and chapter 5, which traces the colonial origins of modernist prefabrication. Seeing exhibitions as “definitive em- bodiments of modernity” (22), Osayimwese situates them within her larger argument at different levels of importance: as media to “amend public taste” and stimulate mod- ernist reform (56); as forums for the “re- orientation of artistic and architectural production toward global markets” (46); as “floodgates for knowledge produc- tion,” allowing broad audiences as well as armchair scholars and professionals to gain information on areas previously unknown (50); and as sites where, despite differing viewpoints on the value of traditional cul- tures and which colonial policies should be implemented, racial and cultural differen- ces were made explicit.4 It is the discursive role of exhibitions that holds Osayimwese’s attention, rather than the mere fact that they enabled architects to come into con- tact with foreign cultures, a topic already well addressed in many histories of architecture. This attention to the discursive is at the heart of chapter 2, devoted to what Osayimwese calls “architectural ethnogra- phy.” Illustrating how German architects had become more globally mobile by the end of the nineteenth century, she demon- strates that the architectural profession in Germany was much less insular than stan- dard histories lead us to believe, stressing that new genealogies of modern architec- ture need to include more in-depth discus- sions of how “architects’ travel experiences affected developments at home in Ger- many” (62). The chapter commences with brief descriptions of well-known cases showing how ethnography was “part of the late nineteenth-century German milieu” (63). These cases include Gottfried Sem- per’s fascination with the full-scale “Car- aib” Indian house from Trinidad displayed at the 1851 Great Exhibition in London, Bruno Taut’s interest in the Orient and his investigation of traditional architecture in both Turkey and Japan, and Ludwig Mies van der Rohe’s reading of ethnographic texts, in particular the writings of the German ethnologist Leo Frobenius, who praised the austere, stern, tectonic features of African architecture. More revealing, however, is Osayimwese’s discussion of those lesser-known, often state-certified architects or engineers who worked abroad as railway or construction experts, involved in what historian Dirk van Laak has termed “infrastructural imperialism” (13).5 Hermann Frobenius, father of Leo and author of Afrikanische Bautypen: Eine B O O K S 479 ethnographisch-architektonische Studie (1894), is a case in point, as are Franz Baltzer in Japan, Karl Döhring in Siam, and Hein- rich Hildebrand and Ernst Boerschmann in China.6 All of these men embodied the mythology of the German engineer, but they also produced studies of traditional architecture that, in turn, influenced the architectural debate at home via publica- tions in journals such as the Centralblatt der Bauverwaltung, the official organ of the Prussian Public Works Ministry. Osayimwese reveals the fascinating inter- textuality among these various architec- tural ethnographies, showing how they belonged to a productive colonial ar- chive. Her book would have benefited, however, from expanding this observation beyond German borders—for instance, Leo Frobenius’s documentation of African rock art later influenced 1930s debates on colonial architecture in France and Belgium.7 Yet Osayimwese has good reason to ground her analysis of the discursive dimen- sion of the colonial archive in Germany, for the language used to discuss German colo- nial architecture was quite specific, as the third chapter of the book reveals. Struc- tured around the fascinating question of how Heimatschutz, a notion crucial to the “fundamentally modern German discourse about belonging and identity” (108), played out in the context of German colonies, the chapter shows how some of the key notions around German colonial architecture at the turn of the century were closely aligned with those that would inform architectural reform inside Germany. Equivalents to some of these concepts, like Sachlichkeit (objectivity) and Zweckmässigkeit (purpo- siveness), surfaced in discussions of how to build in colonial territories beyond Ger- many’s. But through the dimension of Hei- mat, and especially the related idea of Bodenständigkeit (contextualism), the Ger- man debate was quite distinct, as Kenny Cupers also has recently noted.8 Pleas for a colonial architecture whose built form and materials would suit the character of its lo- cation were advanced by figures like Adolf von Oechelhäuser, member of the Bund Heimatschutz, the Congress for Historic Preservation, and the Colonial Society. But Osayimwese’s meticulous dissection of the debate on colonial Heimatschutz illustrates how fraught it was with contradictions, especially because it remained unclear how one could reconcile the notion of Heimat, which is about “nurturing the genius loci of place,” with the basic premise of colonial ideology: that colonized people were devoid of any worthwhile culture of their own. Es- pecially relevant here is how such colonial contradictions reflected the debate in Ger- many, for “in the colonial context, the prob- lems with German architecture became clearer” (119). In this respect, it is quite tell- ing that armchair scholars (those who stud- ied the colonies without ever setting foot in them), rather than figures with embedded expertise in the colonial territories, were dominating the scene, and that at least one observer saw the refusal to acknowledge existing local architectural knowledge as perhaps “the greatest shortcoming of the project to reform architecture in the colo- nies” (123). These contradictions also surface in Osayimwese’s analysis of the few projects she was able to find from the significant number of entries submitted to a 1914 com- petition organized by the German Colonial Society, which invited architects to develop designs for a hospital in the South Seas, a government building in German Southwest Africa, a house in Cameroon, and a house in East Africa. Most of these designs were rather generic and suggest a preference for Typisierung (roughly, “industrialized stan- dardization”) such as was advocated by one of the key protagonists of Germany’s architectural reform movement, Hermann Muthesius.9 Not coincidentally, perhaps, as Osayimwese notes, the colonial archive is “replete with buildings that were conceived as types rather than as custom-designed sol- utions” (150). Drawing on the work of Peter Scriver, whose study of public works archi- tecture in British India remains the most profound investigation of the principles un- derlying the type-based design approach in a colonial context, Osayimwese suggests that the “possibilities of ‘type’ as a heuristic for a modern architecture language became even clearer” when a model colonial house was designed for display at the 1914 Werk- bund Exhibition (185).10 Chapter 5 demonstrates that the pre- fabricated structures designed for the colonial territories, conceived by German building firms such as Christoph & Un- mack and F. H. Schmidt, are even more revealing of the intricate relationships between colonialism and modernism. De- signs like Christoph & Unmack’s model tropical house of 1908—featuring sun sails, a veranda, mosquito netting, and special folding furniture—became darlings of German reformist architects for how they “appropriated architectural technologies and forms that had been perfected in the colonial field, and connected the modernist rhetoric of purposiveness (Zweckmässigkeit), objectivity (Sachlichkeit), and contextualism (Bodenständigkeit) with an existing discourse on building efficiently and contextually in the tropics” (187). It is in this last chapter that Osayimwese reconnects her narrative with her book’s larger ambition—that of presenting a “more global history” of German modern architecture. Yet these building firms were exporting their products far beyond the boundaries of the German Empire. Shel- ters closely resembling Christoph & Un- mack’s Doecker model, for instance, popped up along the emerging railroad network in the Congo Free State, where they were referred to as maisons danoises, or Danish houses. Such transcolonial flows and exchanges surface in Osayimwese’s book but are not explicitly articulated, as they fall outside the scope of what is, first and foremost, a book that investigates how discussions of architecture in/on the Ger- man colonies prefigured and influenced those in the mother country. This is also why the widespread practice of self-build- ing in German colonies (illustrated by manuals like Carl Pauli’s 1911 book Der Kolonist der Tropen als Häuser-, Wege- und Brückenbauer) does not feature promi- nently in her analysis. It would, however, make sense to open the narrative beyond the nationalist framework and study the impact of German expertise beyond the foundational moment of German modern architecture and the 1919 endpoint of the German Empire. In this way, we might gain a better understanding of how a ne- glected figure like the engineer Friedrich Vick, for instance, was able to influence building practices in Central Africa with his 1938 book Einfluβ des tropischen Klimas auf Gestaltung und Konstruktion der Ge- bäude.11 If this remains a story to be writ- ten, it is one of the major contributions of Osayimwese’s book, along with the crucial correction it makes about the genealogy of modern architecture in Germany, to have 480 J S A H | 7 7 . 4 | D E C E M B E R 2 0 1 8 demonstrated that any discussion of colo- nial architecture can no longer ignore the German case. JOHAN LAGAE Ghent University Notes 1. Dipesh Chakrabarty, Provincializing Europe: Post- colonial Thought and Historical Difference (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 2000). 2. Wolfgang Lauber was the first to compile sub- stantial documentation on German Togo and Cameroon, which is complemented by French scholarship. See Wolfgang Lauber, Deutsche Archi- tektur in Kamerun 1884–1914 (Stuttgart: Karl Krämer Verlag, 1988); Wolfgang Lauber, Deutsche Architektur in Togo 1884–1914 (Stuttgart: Karl Krämer Verlag, 1993); Jacques Soulillou, ed., Rives coloniales: Architectures, de Saint-Louis à Douala (Marseille: Parenthèses/Orstrom, 1993); Bernard Toulier and Marc Pabois, eds., Architecture coloniale et patrimoine: Expériences européennes (Paris: Institut National du Patrimoine/Somogy, 2006). On Na- mibia, see Walter Peters, Baukunst in Südwestafrika, 1884–1914 (Windhoek: SWA Wissenschaftlichen Gesellschaft, 1981). On Tanzania and the city of Dar es Salaam, there is a substantial body of work by Karl Vorlaufer, James Brennan, and, more re- cently, Patrick Hege and the Dar es Salaam Centre for Architectural Heritage. Eduard Kögel has done groundbreaking work on the presence and activities of German architects in Asia, China in particular. 3. For an engaged overview of German colonial- ism, see George Steinmetz, The Devil’s Handwrit- ing: Precoloniality and the German Colonial State in Qingdao, Samoa, and Southwest Africa (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2007). Osayimwese’s bibliography contains numerous references to German scholarship. 4. For an untangling and explanation of the com- monalities and sometimes striking distinctions among Germany’s colonial policies, see George Steinmetz, “The Colonial State as a Social Field: Ethnographic Capital and Native Policy in the German Overseas Empire before 1914,” American Sociological Review 73 (Aug. 2008), 589–612. 5. Dirk van Laak, Imperiale Infrastruktur: Deutsche Planungen für eine Erschlieβung Afrikas 1880 bis 1960 (Paderborn: Schöningh, 2004). 6. Osayimwese cites Eduard Kögel’s extensive re- search on the work of Ernst Boerschmann, includ- ing reissues of some his original texts. 7. Architects Henri-Jean Calsat and Henri La- coste were familiar with Frobenius’s work and were involved in designing projects for French and Belgian territories in Africa. 8. Kenny Cupers, “Bodenständigkeit: The Environ- mental Epistemology of Modernism,” Journal of Architecture 21, no. 8 (2016), 1226–52. 9. Typisierung, a notion that goes back to the well- known debate between Muthesius and Van de Velde at the 1914 Werkbund Congress in Co- logne, often has been translated as “industrialized standardization.” However, it is closer to the notion of “type,” which was more about striving for “a universally valid, unfailing good taste” (Mu- thesius) and thus a means of “bringing order to the chaotic world of mass consumption ruled by fash- ion, individualism and anomie.” See Adrian Forty, Words and Buildings: A Vocabulary of Modern Archi- tecture (London: Thames and Hudson, 2000), 307. 10. Peter Scriver, “Empire-Building and Think- ing in the Public Works Department of British In- dia,” in Colonial Modernities: Building, Dwelling and Architecture in British India and Ceylon, ed. Peter Scriver and Vikramaditya Prakash (London: Routledge, 2007), 69–92. 11. Vick’s book was a crucial source, for instance, for Belgian engineer Egide Devroey’s report Hab- itations coloniales et conditionnement d’air sous les tro- piques, presented in 1940 to the Institut Royal Colonial Belge. Tamara Bjažić Klarin Ernest Weissmann: Socially Engaged Architecture, 1926–1939 Zagreb: Croatian Academy of Sciences and Arts, 2015, 350 pp., 226 b/w illus. $57 (paper), ISBN 9789531541893 Tamara Bjažić Klarin’s Ernest Weissmann, published in both Serbo-Croatian and English, is the first scholarly monograph available on this little-known yet highly significant figure in the history of modern architecture and urbanism. Based on exten- sive archival research, Klarin, described here as a “longtime associate of the Croatian Museum of Architecture,” offers a definitive and well-illustrated account of Weissmann’s European career before 1939. She has con- sulted many Serbo-Croatian language ar- chives in Zagreb and elsewhere in the former Yugoslavia, as well as the Bauhaus Archive in Berlin and the Ernest Weiss- mann Archive, which is now available at the Frances Loeb Library, Harvard Graduate School of Design. Ernest Weissmann (1903–85) grew up in the Croatian capital of Zagreb, in what was then the Austro-Hungarian Empire. He received his diploma in architecture there in 1926 from the Department of Ar- chitecture at the Technical School of Higher Education, today the University of Zagreb. In the late 1920s he moved to Paris and worked with Adolf Loos on the Tristan Tzara House in Montmartre (1927–29). With the help of Gabriel Guévrékian, Weissmann then joined Le Corbusier’s atelier around the same time as Josep Lluís Sert, Charlotte Perriand, and Kunio Maekawa. These associates, all then work- ing on the Centrosoyuz project in Moscow, would later be central figures in the Con- grès Internationaux d’Architecture Mo- derne, founded in 1928. Once back in in Zagreb in 1929, Weissmann led the Work Group Zagreb, a Yugoslav CIAM group, and attended the Barcelona meeting of the Comité International pour la Réalisation des Problèmes de la Architecture Contem- porain (CIRPAC, CIAM’s executive body) in 1932 and CIAM 4 in 1933. He then worked on the Yugoslav national world’s fair pavilions in Paris and New York, immi- grating to New York in 1939. Once there, Weissmann partnered with Sert in de- signing an unbuilt Manhattan apartment house project (not included in this book) before taking a staff position at the U.S. Board of Economic Warfare, Foreign Eco- nomic Administration, in Washington D.C. (1942–44). Klarin suggests that this job may have been the result of his earlier CIAM contacts with Buckminster Fuller, Knud Lonberg-Holm, and others in the New York group Structural Study Associates in 1933. In any case, Weissmann worked as an assistantto Fuller on his Dymaxion Deploy- ment Unit project in 1941. In 1944, he was appointed director of the Industrial Reha- bilitation Division of the United Nations Relief and Rehabilitation Administration, and after 1947, he held many positions in housing and planningat theUnited Nations until his retirement in 1974. Klarin’s book presents a detailed, year- by-year account of Weissmann’s educational influencesand early careerto 1939,anditof- fers the patient reader much new factual and visual material not previously available. The discussionofWeissmann’sprofessionalwork includes his modern schools and his 1929 Centrosoyuz-inspired competition entry for the Zagreb Foundation Block, designed in violation of the rules with his non-Yugoslav Le Corbusier associates Norman Rice (UnitedStates)andKunioMaekawa(Japan). Klarin also documents and illustrates his many CIAM-related activities, publications, andexhibitionsafter1929withWorkGroup Zagreb,whichalsoincludedYugoslavCIAM members Vladimir Antolić and Drago Ibler. Weissmann’s other works from this early internationalist period included his Founda- tion and Clinical Hospital project in Zagreb, an innovative 1931 competition design illus- trated on the book’s cover. B O O K S 481 << /ASCII85EncodePages false /AllowTransparency false /AutoPositionEPSFiles true /AutoRotatePages /None /Binding /Left /CalGrayProfile () /CalRGBProfile (Adobe RGB \0501998\051) /CalCMYKProfile (None) /sRGBProfile (sRGB IEC61966-2.1) /CannotEmbedFontPolicy /Error /CompatibilityLevel 1.3 /CompressObjects /Off /CompressPages true /ConvertImagesToIndexed true /PassThroughJPEGImages true /CreateJobTicket false /DefaultRenderingIntent /Default /DetectBlends true /DetectCurves 0.1000 /ColorConversionStrategy /LeaveColorUnchanged /DoThumbnails false /EmbedAllFonts true /EmbedOpenType false /ParseICCProfilesInComments true /EmbedJobOptions true /DSCReportingLevel 0 /EmitDSCWarnings false /EndPage -1 /ImageMemory 1048576 /LockDistillerParams true /MaxSubsetPct 100 /Optimize false /OPM 1 /ParseDSCComments true /ParseDSCCommentsForDocInfo true /PreserveCopyPage false /PreserveDICMYKValues true /PreserveEPSInfo true /PreserveFlatness true /PreserveHalftoneInfo false /PreserveOPIComments false /PreserveOverprintSettings true /StartPage 1 /SubsetFonts false /TransferFunctionInfo /Apply /UCRandBGInfo /Remove /UsePrologue false /ColorSettingsFile (None) /AlwaysEmbed [ true ] /NeverEmbed [ true ] /AntiAliasColorImages false /CropColorImages true /ColorImageMinResolution 266 /ColorImageMinResolutionPolicy /Warning /DownsampleColorImages false /ColorImageDownsampleType /Average /ColorImageResolution 300 /ColorImageDepth 8 /ColorImageMinDownsampleDepth 1 /ColorImageDownsampleThreshold 1.50000 /EncodeColorImages true /ColorImageFilter /FlateEncode /AutoFilterColorImages false /ColorImageAutoFilterStrategy /JPEG /ColorACSImageDict << /QFactor 0.15 /HSamples [1 1 1 1] /VSamples [1 1 1 1] >> /ColorImageDict << /QFactor 0.15 /HSamples [1 1 1 1] /VSamples [1 1 1 1] >> /JPEG2000ColorACSImageDict << /TileWidth 256 /TileHeight 256 /Quality 30 >> /JPEG2000ColorImageDict << /TileWidth 256 /TileHeight 256 /Quality 30 >> /AntiAliasGrayImages false /CropGrayImages true /GrayImageMinResolution 266 /GrayImageMinResolutionPolicy /Warning /DownsampleGrayImages false /GrayImageDownsampleType /Average /GrayImageResolution 300 /GrayImageDepth 8 /GrayImageMinDownsampleDepth 2 /GrayImageDownsampleThreshold 1.50000 /EncodeGrayImages true /GrayImageFilter /FlateEncode /AutoFilterGrayImages false /GrayImageAutoFilterStrategy /JPEG /GrayACSImageDict << /QFactor 0.15 /HSamples [1 1 1 1] /VSamples [1 1 1 1] >> /GrayImageDict << /QFactor 0.15 /HSamples [1 1 1 1] /VSamples [1 1 1 1] >> /JPEG2000GrayACSImageDict << /TileWidth 256 /TileHeight 256 /Quality 30 >> /JPEG2000GrayImageDict << /TileWidth 256 /TileHeight 256 /Quality 30 >> /AntiAliasMonoImages false /CropMonoImages true /MonoImageMinResolution 900 /MonoImageMinResolutionPolicy /Warning /DownsampleMonoImages false /MonoImageDownsampleType /Average /MonoImageResolution 1200 /MonoImageDepth -1 /MonoImageDownsampleThreshold 1.50000 /EncodeMonoImages true /MonoImageFilter /CCITTFaxEncode /MonoImageDict << /K -1 >> /AllowPSXObjects false /CheckCompliance [ /None ] /PDFX1aCheck true /PDFX3Check false /PDFXCompliantPDFOnly true /PDFXNoTrimBoxError true /PDFXTrimBoxToMediaBoxOffset [ 0.00000 0.00000 0.00000 0.00000 ] /PDFXSetBleedBoxToMediaBox true /PDFXBleedBoxToTrimBoxOffset [ 0.00000 0.00000 0.00000 0.00000 ] /PDFXOutputIntentProfile (None) /PDFXOutputConditionIdentifier () /PDFXOutputCondition () /PDFXRegistryName () /PDFXTrapped /False /CreateJDFFile false /Description << /CHS /CHT /DAN /DEU /ESP /FRA /ITA (Utilizzare queste impostazioni per creare documenti Adobe PDF che devono essere conformi o verificati in base a PDF/X-1a:2001, uno standard ISO per lo scambio di contenuto grafico. Per ulteriori informazioni sulla creazione di documenti PDF compatibili con PDF/X-1a, consultare la Guida dell'utente di Acrobat. I documenti PDF creati possono essere aperti con Acrobat e Adobe Reader 4.0 e versioni successive.) /JPN /KOR /NLD (Gebruik deze instellingen om Adobe PDF-documenten te maken die moeten worden gecontroleerd of moeten voldoen aan PDF/X-1a:2001, een ISO-standaard voor het uitwisselen van grafische gegevens. Raadpleeg de gebruikershandleiding van Acrobat voor meer informatie over het maken van PDF-documenten die compatibel zijn met PDF/X-1a. De gemaakte PDF-documenten kunnen worden geopend met Acrobat en Adobe Reader 4.0 en hoger.) /NOR /PTB /SUO /SVE /ENU (Use these settings to create Adobe PDF documents for submission to The Sheridan Press. Configured for Adobe Acrobat Distiller v8.0 02-28-07.) >> /Namespace [ (Adobe) (Common) (1.0) ] /OtherNamespaces [ << /AsReaderSpreads false /CropImagesToFrames true /ErrorControl /WarnAndContinue /FlattenerIgnoreSpreadOverrides false /IncludeGuidesGrids false /IncludeNonPrinting false /IncludeSlug false /Namespace [ (Adobe) (InDesign) (4.0) ] /OmitPlacedBitmaps false /OmitPlacedEPS false /OmitPlacedPDF false /SimulateOverprint /Legacy >> << /AddBleedMarks false /AddColorBars false /AddCropMarks false /AddPageInfo false /AddRegMarks false /ConvertColors /ConvertToCMYK /DestinationProfileName () /DestinationProfileSelector /DocumentCMYK /Downsample16BitImages true /FlattenerPreset << /PresetSelector /HighResolution >> /FormElements false /GenerateStructure false /IncludeBookmarks false /IncludeHyperlinks false /IncludeInteractive false /IncludeLayers false /IncludeProfiles false /MultimediaHandling /UseObjectSettings /Namespace [ (Adobe) (CreativeSuite) (2.0) ] /PDFXOutputIntentProfileSelector /DocumentCMYK /PreserveEditing true /UntaggedCMYKHandling /LeaveUntagged /UntaggedRGBHandling /UseDocumentProfile /UseDocumentBleed false >> ] >> setdistillerparams << /HWResolution [2400 2400] /PageSize [612.000 792.000] >> setpagedevice