The text presented here is not precisely as published by OUP, but modifications are minor. Illustrations are another matter. Where images used in the original book were not my copyright, I have in most cases been able to substitute links to coloured images on the web. The sources are listed under Image Acknowledgements.

When this text was submitted as part of a PhD thesis in 1996, the Notes were greatly extended. Most readers may prefer to ignore them. They have been collected at the end of each chapter, with internal links leading to them and back to the text. They are a mixture of: simple page references; additional examples or quotations to justify generalisations; and some afterthoughts.

This chapter was written in the early 1980s. It represents an engineer's view (mine) based mainly on the accounts of Ove Arup's senior engineers and Baume (1967). Several relevant books have been published since then - see Postscript at the bottom of this page.

Introduction.

This case-study highlights the problems of interaction between clients, architects and structural engineers, and the influence of politics both within and outside this group. For reasons of brevity it does not cover the contribution of the services engineer or of the contractor (builder) who after appointment worked closely with the design team.

It is assumed that the reader has some idea of the roles of the various parties mentioned above. If not, it is probably sufficient to explain that the client is the person or organization which pays for the project and obtains advice as to nature of the building that will best suit its purposes. In this case its advisors would include people from the worlds of opera, music and theatre as well as the architect. The client is responsible for appointing at least the architect, and sometimes the engineering consultants. The architect in discussion with the client, the potential users of the building and the engineers, decides on the allocation of space within the building, its overall form and its internal and external appearance. The various engineers advise the architect and sometimes the client on the requirements of the building for structural strength and stability, heating lighting and ventilating and acoustics. As final decisions are reached the architect and engineers prepare drawings and specifications defining the work to be carried out in their respective spheres of responsibility. Normally tenders are called, contractors submit quotes for the work and the architect and other consultants advise the client on the choice of builder. During construction the professionals supervize construction in their respective spheres to ensure that what is done complies with their requirements and to make any modifications that appear necessary when unforseen difficulties arise or for some reason requirements are changed. There are other approaches to the organization of the industry but these will be discussed in a later section.

The background to the Opera House project.

The sources available [Note 1.] fall into two categories: accounts written by the structural engineers for the project, Ove Arup and Partners, and presented as papers to learned institutions; and books written in a journalistic style, for instance Baume (1967), with emphasis on the human side of the problems and intended for the layman. In general, papers written for engineering journals observe the convention that the influence of non-technological factors is an unfortunate aberration which should not be mentioned in polite technological circles. Arup's papers make a refreshing change. However, they come nowhere near the laymen's books in detailing the interpersonal conflicts that arose. Indeed Arup admonishes the other authors for describing in "vivid and often exaggerated and incorrect detail the more sensational aspects of the project". [Note 2.] The events they relate must certainly be placed in perspective within some fifteen years of steady application to the task. On the other hand, the human conflicts they describe have a familiar ring to anyone who has been involved in practical design.

Fig. 2.1  Opera House, Sydney, Australia. In fact, a complex arts centre crowded onto a narrow peninsula in the Harbour. (Archt: Jørn Utzon. Engrs: Ove Arup & Ptnrs.)

The form of the Opera House is the result of an architectural competition held in 1956-57 for the design of an arts centre for Sydney. The centre was to incorporate two main auditoria and numerous other facilities for the performing arts, such as rehearsal rooms. Bennelong Point, a narrow peninsula jutting into Sydney Harbour had been chose for the location.

As a result of the advocacy of Eero Saarinen, a world renowned architect [Note 3.] and member of the panel, the judges (all architects) chose an entry submitted by Jorn Utzon. This was despite the fact that his drawings were in a very rough form and that the details had not been thought out to the extent required by the competition rules.

Although opera was only second in importance in the list of priorities for both halls, the building came to be known as the Sydney Opera House. In Arup's words this was an embarrassing anomaly which "became established". [Note 4.] Baume, however, attributes it to a takeover within the Executive Committee by an "opera clique" which was prepared to overlook the original requirements. [Note 5.]

The New South Wales Government appointed an 'Opera House Executive Committee', composed of part-time honorary members to act as client. The structural engineer, although recommended by Utzon, was made directly responsible to the client. This arrangment is quite common in Britain, but unusual in Australia where the engineer is normally responsible to the architect, who is thus very clearly the leader of the design team. In addition, the other specialist consultants (acoustics, electrical, etc.) were made contractually responsible to the client through Arup, rather than through the architect. It is thought that the Government adopted this arrangement because Utzon's ability to organize a project of such magnitude was untried by any similar previous experience.

The project was divided into three parts. Stage I comprised the foundations and podium; stage II the 'shells'; and stage III the cladding, paving, glass walls and interiors.

A characteristic problem of theatre design is the architectural treatment of the 'flytower'. A large space is required above the stage so that scenery and other effects can be hoisted out of view of the audience and quickly dropped into place when required. Some architects actually express this volume as a separate tower adjoining the auditorium (Figure 2.2). However, most attempt to integrate the two into a unified form.

Fig. 2.2  Alexander Theatre, Monash University. An alternative expression of the spatial requirements of a theatre. (Archts: Eggleston MacDonald Seccombe. Engrs: Irwin Johnston and Breedon.)

The majority of entrants in the competition handled the 'tower problem' by placing the two halls back-to-back so that the towers adjoined. However, this had the disadvantage that the two foyers were then at opposite ends of the peninsula. Utzon's idea was to place the halls side-by-side (Figure 2.3) so that the entrances would be at the same end. However, he felt it was aesthetically undesirable to have the bulk of the structure (the towers) at the far end of the peninsula, so he placed the entrances at the far end and provided circulatory galleries around the sides.

In his report to the N.S.W. Government in January 1965, Utzon emphasized the architectural experience which he expected this arrangement to provide for the visitor as he circled the auditorium through the galleries with their inspiring views of the harbour. [Note 6.] However, the constricted width of the peninsula meant that it was now impossible to place wings either side of the stage in the traditional manner. The required space was therefore placed beneath the stage, and complex machinery was devised for raising and changing scenery.

Fig. 2.3  Sydney Opera House; main floor plan (competition entry): two auditoria side-by-side with foyers at the seaward end and access round the sides. [Drawing: Arup.]

Utzon had first approached Arup in 1957 and in March-April of 1958 the pair visited Sydney. There they were informed that the Premier wanted work to start well before March 1959 when there was to be a state election for New South Wales. He feared that if the then Opposition gained power the whole project would be abandoned. It was therefore necessary to achieve a fait accompli. As a result, despite their advice to the contrary, the two were forced to "start the job without a single correct drawing". [Note 7.] Foundation sizes were estimated before the weight of the roof was known and were continually revised as excavation revealed unexpected site conditions. As we shall see, the weight of the roof turned out years later to be much greater than the initial estimate.

The decision to press on before proper consideration had been given to design was responsible for a great deal of chaos throughout the entire project. It resulted in drawings being fed to the contractor on a hand-to-mouth basis as construction proceeded, and a great many alterations as later decisions affected earlier ones which had been made too hastily. Sometimes portions of the structure actually had to be demolished because of such changes. The preoccupation with Stage I meant that less forethought could be given to Stages II and III, and so affected the whole project.

Design of the concourse.

The design of the Concourse, a part of the project which has received very little attention from the public, provides an excellent case study in architect-engineer relations. It is seen on the right in Figure 2.4. It consists of a series of broad steps leading to a large flat area. Beyond this are more steps leading to the top of the podium. This concept owes much to a visit Utzon made to the Mayan monuments of Mexico. A roadway runs under the Concourse to allow vehicles to deliver patrons to the lower entrance halls.

Fig. 2.4  Sydney Opera House; longitudinal cross-section (competition entry) showing how the shells envelope the flytower and acoustic ceiling. [Drawing: Arup.]

Originally Utzon allowed for columns under the centre of the Concourse (Figure 2.4), a reasonable decision seeing that the resulting spans were still of the order of 18m - a healthy span for a bridge. In the initial discussions with the engineers, however, he asked if it would be possible to omit not only the central columns, but even those under the junction of steps and Concourse.

As Arup and Jenkins put it, this was "a typical question" for an architect to pose to an engineer and it "received the typical answer": it would be possible to omit them, but much more expensive, and since the columns offered no obstruction to traffic, very hard to justify. [Note 8.] If this answer was typical of an engineer, Utzon's response was that of a pure architect. He was going to omit applied finishes such as tiling or render under the concourse in order to "express the structure" honestly. Having saved money in this regard he felt entitled to spend it elsewhere on achieving a bold, impressive form. The span was now some 50m and the beam depth was required to be a minimum because of clearance requirements over the roadway. Figure 2.5 shows, using a highly simplified idealization broadly similar to the concourse and first flight of steps, the sort of increase in bending moment which would result from this decision.

Figs. 2.5 and 2.6  Sydney Opera House; simplified model of the concourse beams showing results of removing intermediate supports and benefit of preventing outward movement of the foot.

The response of the engineers was to prop the bottom of the steps against the sandstone substrata to prevent horizontal movement. In this way axial forces would be developed in the structure, relieving the bending moments as shown in Figure 2.6. [Note 9.] It was later found that the sandstone dipped away at the southern end of the steps. Also Utzon decreased the slope of the steps with the result that a greater horizontal reaction was required for equilibrium. For these reasons the engineers inserted tie-beams under the road to tie the bottom of the steps back to the main structure. To gain an added advantage the tie beams were extended out past the bottom of the steps and the superstructure was pre-stressed by jacks which pushed inwards against the bottom of the steps and forced the ends of the tie-beams outwards, placing these in tension before the connection was made rigid. The problem posed by the removal of the central columns was thus solved at considerable expense in design effort and construction cost.

Utzon was also keen to see the design of the beams express their mode of structural action and to dispense with the slope normally provided for drainage. He proposed to use perfectly flat, precast paving slabs, 1828×1441mm, supported so that rainwater would drain through the joints and be carried away underneath. In addition the depth of the concourse was to be constant and kept to a minimum.

These contraints led the engineers to propose a series of webs at the appropriate spacing supporting the edges of the paving slabs, with a horizontal flange varying in position so that it would be near the top of the webs at mid-span and near the bottom at each end. Figure 2.7 shows the variation in height of the flange at different positions along the beam. The idea developed through a number of stages to result in the scheme shown on the right which cunningly provided the required drainage channels, while disposing the material in the locations required for efficient resistance to the bending moment.

Fig. 2.7   The cross-section of the beams for the concourse varies with the magnitude and sign of the bending moment. The initial proposal (a) with vertical webs and horizontal flange was developed into Scheme (d) with warped webs blending a double-trough into a double-T. [Drawing: Arup.]

The question then arose of the geometrical definition of the transition from one section to another. The architect did not like the harshness of the scheme originally porposed and illustrated in Figure 2.8a. He wanted to round off all the sharp edges. This would have made fabrication difficult and expensive. After much debate, the proposal shown in Figure 2.8b was adopted as providing "the roundness or voluptuousness which the Architect was looking for … while still being reasonably easy to fabricate". [Note 10.]

Fig. 2.8  Aesthetic refinement of the concourse beams: (a) hard-edged original proposal; (b) final solution - a compromise between artistic goals and cost of fabrication, providing considerable softening of form. [Drawing: Arup.]

Another problem arose when the Architect wanted some of the beams which run under the restaurant raised, because the restaurant floor was higher than the general floor level. In keeping with his philosophy of structural honesty and expression he was against the idea of building a raised platform over the beams to accommodate the change in level. This posed enormous engineering problems because five non-standard beams would have had to be inserted. As they would have been unsymmetrical, their prestressing would have created torsional moments which would have had to be absorbed by adjoining already highly stressed beams. To quote Arup and Jenkins:

the very considerable cost, and the disturbance it would cause to an already critical situation would be too high a price to pay for something which after all would not be missed by anybody. However the Architect was insistent and the Engineers were bracing themselves to attempt a solution to the problem, when the Heating Engineers intervened with a demand for space over the slab in which they could accommodate their pipes and services. [Note 11.]

This allowed all concerned to justify building a platform over the slab and saved the day for the engineers.

So much for the minor question of the Concourse! It would be interesting to know just how many visitors appreciate what is going on under their feet when they stand on the Concourse, or over their heads when they enter the rather gloomy cavern beneath.

Design of the shells.

The 'shells' of the Opera House inspired infinitely more awe and controversy on the part of the public. Arup is, as usual, on the side of the architect. He says that although "many architects allege that form has dominated function to the detriment of the scheme", the "unusual roof was really only the outward expression of an inner plan which provided an ingenious solution to the competition problem". [Note 12.]

Even so, Utzon had conceived the scheme with little or no engineering advice and with "the then prevailing faith amongst architects in the omnipotence of shells". [Note 13.] He failed to realize that in order to ensure membrane action a shell must follow a definite form so that all forces produced by distributed loads, in particular the weight of the shell itself, are transmitted in the plane of the membrane. There is a range of possible forms which meet this criterion, but any deviation from the disciplined form imposed by statics introduces bending moments which the thin shell is unable to resist.

Not only were Utzon's shells drawn freehand and therefore unlikely to correspond at any point to a suitable form, but they had a ridge along the centre (Figure 2.9) which made it impossible for forces to be transmitted smoothly across the top within the plane of the shell. They could not therefore be described as 'shells' in the engineering sense of the word. Another difficulty was that the 'shells' were not balanced longitudinally and so had a tendency to fall over end-on-end.

Fig. 2.9  Sydney Opera House roofs: Utzon's original conception showing softer outlines of the roof-scape. [Drawing: Arup.]

The first thoughts exchanged in early meetings thus included the use of non-pointed arches, doubly-curved shells covering each hall, or even a single roof over both halls. Arup says that to design a dome-like structure covering both halls would probably have been easier than persevering with the original concept. [Note 14.] However it was agreed that such changes would destroy the sculptural quality of the original scheme and that all efforts should be directed towards reproducing it as closely as possible.

The shapes of the shells as originally drawn were not defined by simple mathematical formulas. This meant that, at the time, it would have been almost impossible to analyze them mathematically and very difficult to fabricate them. After much debate, agreement was reached to define the curves as parabolas.

In an attempt to cope with the bending moments, ribs were added to the inside of the skin. These, however, proved insufficient and a double skin was proposed with two-way ribs in a four-foot (1.22m) space between.

At the same time the louvre walls enclosing the ends of the shells (Fig. 2.10a) were designed to transmit load from one shell to another, to ensure longitudinal stability and provide all possible support for the edges of the 'shells'. The shells originally sprang vertically from their supports, but it was soon shown that a slight inward inclination would greatly reduce the bending moments.

Fig. 2.10a   Early roof scheme (1958). A single-skin, ribbed, reinforced-concrete shell with parabolic profiles for ridges and ribs, and louvre walls connecting the shells. [Drawing: Arup.]

Further options for the structural scheme were examined, including the 'rib' pattern fanning out from the supports which was finally adopted and is described as like a pair of hands with the fingertips pressed together. However, the alternative which became most attractive to the engineers was a skeletal steel space frame covered by two concrete skins about four feet apart.

In mid-1961 however the situation became fluid for a number of reasons. Results from model tests suggested that the system of load- transmission originally envisaged produced foundation loads which could not at that time have been predicted analytically. The bending moments and shear forces in the roof itself also appeared to be higher than had been anticipated. To increase dimensions to cope with these effects would increase dead loads still further and result in a possibly endless spiral of increasing size and weight.

At this juncture Utzon, who had been pre-occupied with keeping abreast of Stage I found himself able to turn his attention to the roof. He expressed dissatisfaction with certain aspects of the current scheme, particularly the louvre walls and the internal appearance. He wanted a ribbed surface under the shell and an improved means of closing the gap, because trouble was being experienced elsewhere in the world with glass walls meeting shell roofs.

As a result the whole scheme was reviewed and after much thought it was decided to abandon the initial structural concept. Improvements were made by moving the centre of gravity of each shell closer to its points of support, thus reducing the overturning moment. The flat louvre walls were largely replaced with curved surfaces ('shells') facing the other way (Figure 2.10b). Finally, the articulation of the roof was entirely changed so that the three sets of shells were structurally independent and stable, the remaining louvres being non-load-bearing.

Fig. 2.10b   Final roof scheme (1962-63). The shell is mainly precast. The ribs follow 'great circles' of a sphere and the ridges 'small circles'. [Drawing: Arup.]

The architect was then presented with two versions of this scheme; the double-skin with internal steel space frame, or the series of arched ribs springing from the supports like fans. The former was preferred by many in the structural design team as being much easier to analyze and construct and providing the outward appearance of Utzon's initial scheme. However Utzon was now keen on the idea of a ribbed internal surface and considered the steel skeleton to be structurally dishonest. Arup therefore agreed to pursue the design of the ribbed alternative.

Arup's version of this decision is recorded in his 1965 paper. The double-skin proposal was "heartily disliked by Utzon and I did not really like the idea either". [Note 15.] In his 1969 paper he simply says "faced with the choice the architect had no doubt what he wanted". [Note 16.]

Utzon's version, contained in a letter to the Minister for Public Works in 1965 and quoted by Baume is somewhat different.

After a long period I succeeded in convincing the engineers that the first scheme was absolutely hopeless, and that together we had not been able to achieve honest structure at the same time as we had not been able to fulfil the expectations of the competition scheme had promised. My new scheme which I developed in my office as the last of a whole series of schemes was brilliant enough to stand up to any criticism the structural engineers could bring forward … [Note 17.]

Internal and external politics.

The change involved the abandonment of some three years' work on the analysis and design of the original concept. To quote Arup:

it is quite a sacrifice for a man at the height of his power to dedicate five years of his life to one job which demands so much and to see so much of his work thrown aside because of altered disposition or because the difficulties ahead are insurmountable. [Note 18.]

Baume's account is that the decision caused a split in the Arup organization. He claims that Arup had some difficulty in persuading the engineers to return to the beginning once more and that there were some resignations.

Despite Ove Arup's personal efforts in this regard Utzon's relationship with him began to deteriorate seriously in 1963. Baume explains how Utzon began to feel that Arup was attempting to take over the running of the project in conjunction with the Public Works Department and capture an unfair share of the glory. The Minister had asked Arup for a report on the shells and had been given the engineers' version of their development. Utzon's previously quoted letter continues:

You might have been misled by Arup's recent report … to the extent that you do not really understand that every detail in the existing work carried out, and in the whole scheme down to the last dimension and shape, has been formed by me.

Utzon's relationship with the Government also began to deteriorate. There had been a change of power in N.S.W. and the new Minister had begun to shift control away from the part-time Executive Committee towards the Public Works Department. This process ended with the Minister taking over the authorization of payments to the Architect, thus giving himself total control.

The reason was basically public concern over the rising cost of the project. The full blame was attributed to the chaotic state of organization and for this Utzon was held by many to be totally responsible.

This was probably unfair as many problems were inevitable due to the forced early start, and the part-time nature of the large Committee. This had made it difficult to organize meetings and so obtain decisions.

Communication was also hampered by the fact that Arup's were contractually responsible direct to the Committee, and so could not resolve important matters directly with the Architect. The result was that attempts were made to obtain quick decisions from individual members who were considered to be influential, with resulting problems when this faith proved to be misplaced. Utzon's constant striving for perfection, and his willingness to abandon an old idea if a better one turned up, undoubtedly added to these organizational reasons for confusion.

The situation led to complaints from Arup's to the Minister and appeals for a more rational organization. The Public Works Department was also recommending changes and was beginning to vet more and more of Utzon's proposals. In conflicts of opinion, Arup's and the Department usually found themselves on the same side in opposition to Utzon.

A particularly strong controversy developed over Utzon's desire to use structural plywood for the acoustic ceilings of the auditoria. The engineers questioned both the structural integrity of his scheme and his proposal to give the order for the plywood, without tender, to a bankrupt firm which he asserted was the only one in the world capable of fulfilling it. The Sydney representatives of Arups, being perhaps more typical of engineers in general than Ove himself, failed to show the same exceptional sympathy for the Architect's aspirations and changeability. The client, advised by the Public Works Department, entered the dispute over the soundness of the proposition and a complex political situation developed with Utzon accusing Arups of further bad faith. In February 1966 Utzon resigned.

There was still a considerable amount of work to be done on Stage III of the project and architectural control was handed to a committee of four with Peter Hall as the design architect. The story of the design of the interiors and of the glass walls enclosing the ends of each set of shells provides yet another interesting episode in this lengthy saga. [Note 19.] Hall claims that his committee adhered to the intentions of the designer as far as was practicable, but this has been hotly contested by those who continue to support Utzon.

Conclusion.

In spite of events, Arup continued to be sympathetic towards Utzon and to champion his cause. In his 1969 paper (after the resignation) he talked of "an unprecendented collaboration between architect, engineer and contractor". [Note 20.] This is all the more intriguing because Utzon believed in the integration of structural form with architectural expression and was a keen proponent of 'structural honesty'. Arup with his partners on the other hand, did not believe that there is necessarily any connection between the two. They described the Opera House as "one of the those not infrequent cases where the best architectural form and the best structural form are not the same". [Note 21.] After his resignation Utzon wrote to Arup complaining of his firm's "whole attitude of dividing structure and architecture". [Note 22.]

The reader might think that the Sydney Opera House is a very atypical example to choose to illustrate the wider problems of design and that Utzon is an atypical architect. On the contrary, while the engineering problems, the personality clashes and the political manoeuvring were certainly on a grand scale, they are quite similar in nature to those which occur on many smaller projects.

Unfortunately, it is only where the glare of publicity is cast, because a public project greatly exceeds its budget or a major structure suffers total collapse, that the human side of engineering is revealed. It is ironic that much of the public outcry that was directed at the Sydney Opera House and those concerned with it must have arisen because the public was under the impression that normal engineering projects are totally devoid of personality problems and organizational confusion. It would be better for everyone if we did not feel a need to delude ourselves and others that the application of technology is an entirely objective and rational undertaking.

Postcript, 2002.

Since writing this chapter circa 1982 I have aged and mellowed, but I still think a building designed by a perfect architect would be a work of art while at the same time adequately fulfilling the functions for which it was commissioned. For me, the ultimate aesthetic experience of Architecture is to be found in the resolution of this difficulty. There is no doubt the Opera House is a thing of beauty and a world-famous landmark. However, it is unpopular with arts administrators, performers, and stage crew, who are obliged to scale down everything from choreography to scenery to fit the SOH, and to put on more performances to achieve the same audience figures as in other Australian capitals. They say: "Australia has the best opera house in the world - it's a pity the outside is in Sydney and the inside is in Melbourne". I am out of touch with the latest theories on how this problem came about. For up-to-date information see:
Drew, Philip. 'The Masterpiece: A Secret Life', Phaidon, 2002 (strongly pro-Utzon).
Fromonot, Francoise. 'Jørn Utzon: The Sydney Opera House', Elemond Electra, 2002.
Weston, Richard. 'Utzon', Edition Blondal.
Murray, Peter. 'The Saga of the Sydney Opera House', Spon Press, New York, 2003.
Messent, David. 'Opera House Act One' Messent, Sydney, 1997. This provides a detailed account of proceedings The later part of the book cover details of design and construction that will be of special interest to engineers.
Watson, Anne (ed). 'Building a masterpiece: the Sydney Opera House.' Powerhouse Publishing, Sydney, 2006. Wide-ranging treatment of social and architectural matters, with good coverage of the technical.
The contribution of the late structural engineer Peter Rice, who went on to gain widespread admiration for his work with architects, has been covered in recent biographies.

The art in structural design navigation:
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Notes.

Note 1. Sources identified included: Arup (1965), Arup and Jenkins (1968), Arup and Zunz (1969), Sowden (1972), Baume (1967), Yeomans (1968), Smith (1974), Curtis (1967), Engineering v.201, pp. 731-6; Architectural Record, v.139, (1), pp. 175-80 (1966); Constructional Review, v.38, (12), 12-21 (1965); v.46, (4), 2-29 (Nov. 1973); Architectural Review Sept. 1973, pp.135-49; Croft and Hooper (1973); Utzon (1965a,b). [Return.]

Note 2. Arup and Zunz (1969), p.99. [Return.]

Note 3. In looking at samples of Saarinen's own work, it is not surprising that he was attracted by Utzon's design. See his Kresge Auditorium, MIT, Boston; Yale Ice Hockey Rink; TWA Terminal (Idlewild, now Kennedy Airport); Dulles Airport Terminal. See also Hatje (1963), p.245. [Return.]

Note 4. Arup and Zunz (1969), p.99. [Return.]

Note 5. Baume (1967), p.18. [Return.]

Note 6. Baume (1967), p.20. [Return.]

Note 7. Arup (1965), p.204. [Return.]

Note 8. Arup and Jenkins (1968), p.541, para.2. [Return.]

Note 9. The mathematical model used in the figure bears only a rough ressemblence to the concourse beams. Simplifications adopted include fixity at the left-hand end, uniform second moment of area, and no internal prestressing. The effect of jacking horizontally at the foot of the stair has not been included. A nominal uniform load was assumed over the entire structure. Values of bending moment have no particular values, and are for comparison only. [Return.]

Note 10. Arup and Jenkins (1968), p.549, para 15. [Return.]

Note 11. Arup and Jenkins (1968), p.552, para. 21. [Return.]

Note 12. Arup and Zunz (1969), p.102, and p.100. [Return.]

Note 13. Arup (1965), p.203. [Return.]

Note 14. Arup (1965), p.204. [Return.]

Note 15. Arup (1965), p.205. [Return.]

Note 16. Arup and Zunz (1969), p.112. [Return.]

Note 17. Baume (1967), p.63. [Return.]

Note 18. Arup (1965), p.205. [Return.]

Note 19. See Croft and Hooper (1973) and Sowden (1972). This is yet another example of strenuous efforts being required and made to achieve Utzon's architectural objectives. The wall surface is cranked partly to achieve a transition from the plan form of the shells to that of the podium, and partly to ensure that the wall does not appear to be supporting the edge of the shell. [Return.]

Note 20. Arup and Zunz (1965), p.102. [Return.]

Note 21. Arup (1965), p.204. Utzon shared with many architects a desire to demonstrate the efficiencies of industrialized production but, again like many others, applied them to a 'one-off' structure intended as a symbol of prestige. (See also Renzo Piano and Norman Foster.) [Return.]

Note 22. Baume (1967), p.42. [Return.]

Image Acknowledgements. Linked images, Chapter 2.

Figures 2.3, 2.4 and 2.7 to 2.10 supplied by courtesy of:   ARUP.

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