Iuliu Iancu / Jules Janco: Restoring an Architectural Legacy (part II)
We continue to present the less known story of the architect Iuliu Iancu / Jules Janco, Marcel Janco’s brother, as revealed through the fragmentary Romanian archives that are now studied by his granddaughter, Amit Janco, in an attempt to restore Jules Janco’s place in Romanian interwar architecture, alongside Marcel Janco, with whom he founded a prestigious architectural office in Bucharest in the 1920s.
Last month we published the first part, dedicated to his studies and early career in France, and now we go further, back to Romania, following in the footsteps of some of the Janco brothers’ most important projects, illustrated by archival images and documents (some of which have never been published before), as well as by Jules himself, in interviews recorded by Amit Janco in the 80s.
We will soon publish the last part (III) of this ongoing research, covering the second part of Jules Janco’s life, after the 1940s, when he fled to Israel and emigrated to Canada, where he carried on with his decades-long work as an architect.
Text: Amit Janco; Photos: Iuliu Iancu Fonds. Courtesy of Jewish Public Library Archives, Montreal (donated by Dan Janco and family); Romanian version: here
Romania: a homecoming
In 1921, Jules resigned from his position in northern France and, after stopping in Germany to enjoy the sights, returned to Bucharest. Upon his arrival, which coincided with his brother’s return to Romania, Iuliu was obliged to fulfill his military duty (unlike Marcel, who was already married). Initially promoted to lieutenant, he rose to the rank of officer prior to being discharged the following year. Even during his stint with the military, and for almost two decades hence, Iuliu was hired for architectural commissions in Bucharest, and beyond.
Shortly after the brothers’ return, they set up an office together, from where they offered their expertise in modern interiors, reinforced concrete, design of private homes and furniture design. Multiple versions of office stationery announce their partnership: “Marcel și Iuliu Iancu, Arhitecti” — implying that they worked as a team.
But was it so? How did they apportion tasks? Did they each retain a separate roster of clients? To this day, what remains unclear and undocumented is their division of labor and the scope of their collaboration. Those who claim that Marcel was responsible for all the stylistic designs (exteriors and interiors) while Iuliu played a secondary role in each project may be giving the latter short shrift due to a general unfamiliarity with the numerous commissions that Iuliu designed and executed after leaving Romania, and for many decades thereafter.
Fortunately, partial evidence of Iuliu’s projects has been well-preserved in his Corpul Arhitectilor file at the National Archives. A folder containing reference letters reveals the extent and depth of his work – from design and planning to drafting blueprints and supervising construction and renovation projects. Despite the many written accolades that Iuliu received by clients over a decade, and notwithstanding that he fulfilled all the necessary requirements to be wholly recognized as an architect (including paying yearly dues), the architects of the Corpul inexplicably accorded him the lesser designation of Conductor Autorizat (Conductori Desenatori de Arhitectura Autorizat). In other words, even though he satisfied all the Corpul’s requirements to be credentialed as a full-fledged architect in Romania, this inferior title of draftsman prohibited him from ever signing architectural drawings and blueprints.
On the other hand, Marcel, who also submitted the necessary documents, was honored in 1934 with the designation of “Arhitectilor Recunoscuti Fara Diplome” – a title conferred on architects who completed their studies abroad, and upon their return (or arrival) in Romania, were “recognized” as full architects with the right and privilege to draft and sign drawings, even if they failed to pass their diploma exam.
Documents, signatures, and other mysteries
A series of plausible but unsubstantiated theories may account for this baffling difference in outcome: Since the Iancu brothers had already established a joint architectural practice by the time they submitted their applications, the policy of the still-nascent Corpul may have been such that only one license was granted per office. Or, since Marcel was by then a renowned avant-garde artist and writer, the brothers – or their father – may have decided that the elder brother’s reputation (and hence, the value of his signature) would attract new and high-profile clients. Regardless of the actual reason, as long as the brothers obtained commissions during Bucharest’s interwar development boom, it may have mattered little to Iuliu that his older brother’s signature graced all plans and papers instead of his own.
And yet, a century later, it is virtually impossible to determine which edifices should be jointly attributed to the Iancu/Janco brothers as a team — or only to one of them. And then: to which one?
What seems certain is that the slim file of letters preserved in Romania’s National Archives, titled “Iancu Iuliu, Conductor autorizat,” does not comprise the full range of his work in Romania. Aside from trying to cobble together pieces of written and photographic evidence to identify the buildings that Iuliu built, there is a fair bit of head-scratching and speculation.
This speculation prompted its own set of inquiries, starting with a research trip to Zurich. At the ETH archives, an in-depth search of the brothers’ 1919 Matrikel (enrollment) files revealed red-ink notations that read Nicht bestanden Schlussdiplompruf – indicating that neither brother had passed the final diploma exam. Upon a closer reading of their respective grades – Marcel obtained a 3.89 and Iuliu 4.32 (which the avant-garde historian Harry Seiwert seems to have overlooked) – the archivist could not fully explain why the diploma credentials and prestigious title of “Architect-ETH” were not conferred on Iuliu, as he technically had passed the exam (4 was the passing grade out of 6). He surmised that professors may have had the discretion to judge the final outcome for each student, which in Iuliu’s case proved to be an ill-fated decision that impacted his lifelong career.
Revisiting some of the Bucharest projects
Inaccurate representations (in whole or in part) of interwar projects that were either designed by Iuliu alone or together with his brother call for careful revision and correction. In 1921, Herman gave Iuliu the task of designing a series of buildings on his large tract of land straddling Aleea Iancu and Strada Trinitatii. Iuliu’s recollections of that time suggest that Marcel may not have been involved:
“After a conseil de famille, parents and children decided to start the development of our land, with the money father got from the selling of our home. Marcel was busy (working with Rosintal), but I was free, and started the plans for the building to be erected. There were also two streets to be cut, and all the plans to be done for 23 duplexes, each having one basement, one at the ground floor — a vestibule with toilet, a hall, living room, dining room and kitchen, and on the upper floor, 3 bedrooms and 1 bathroom. It was quite a job, but I had time and was really eager to do it.”
Jules then turns to a discussion of a house (still intact today), commissioned by another relative:
“Shortly after, together with Marcel, we had our first job. The father of our brother-in-law, the old (Bernard) Salzmann, had a nice property and wanted to add to it and make also lots of changes to it. The job was very interesting and challenging. And we did it in a fine manner.” Built at Strada Poetului 20 (now Enachita Vacarescu) in 1923, still today, under a brightly repainted gabled roof one can see the owner’s initials – B. S. – and the date of construction. A letter signed by Arhitect Rosintal in Marcel’s Corpul file references this property, and the construction permit file contains the names and signatures of both Rosintal and Marcel. Even without a hint of Iuliu in these files, it seems evident that this project was a collaboration with Marcel, engineered by Mr. Salzmann.
Following his reminiscences about the Salzmann house, Jules recalls another family commission: “A bit later, uncle Emil wanted to do a new house and we were very happy to do it. Aunt Cecil wanted a sophisticated house and lots of new things and really was enchanted to be helped by two new fresh architects.” Whereas Marcel has been credited for the design of this home (in Str. Fetitelor), it seems clear that a revision of attribution is required in this case as well.
Among the reference letters tucked into Iuliu’s Corpul file is one signed by H. O. Ettinger, the owner of a property at Strada Doctor Herescu 9. It was no coincidence that in 1930 Ettinger hired Iuliu to develop this property in Cotroceni: Ettinger’s daughter Cerni(ca) was engaged to Leon (Lică) Packer, Iuliu’s brother-in-law, and the house was to be included in the matrimonial dowry. Arhitect C. N. Simionescu’s name and signatures appear on all the documents and drawings, with not a hint of Iuliu anywhere in the City Hall construction permit file.
What to make of the building on Strada Caimatei, that not only housed the brothers’ office for a time, but has been hailed as one of Marcel’s iconic modernist creations? The 1931 permit file only bears the name and signature of Arh V. V. Stefanescu. Not a hint of Marcel. On the other hand, a letter in Iuliu’s Corpul file states that he (Iuliu) executed the plans and construction of this building; this letter too makes no mention of Marcel. So how did Marcel even come to be associated with the design of this block?
In Iuliu’s Corpul file, a letter signed by Mr. S. Stoicovici notes that Iuliu and Marcel were hired in 1932 to design and build his home in what was then a thriving housing development known as Parcelarea Domeniilor. Both the exterior and interiors of the building on Strada Constantin Sandu-Aldea bear many of the familiar hallmarks of the Iancu brothers’ notable modernist designs. Here too C. N. Simionescu’s name and signature fill the pages of the permit file. However, Marcel’s name also appears, but in an unusual manner (and dissimilar from the signature style that he subsequently adopted): At the time that plans were drawn up, Marcel, not yet authorized by the Corpul to sign as a ‘recognized architect,’ may have nevertheless been permitted to co-sign plans in this manner: Iancu Marcel Constructor autorizat. Here again, despite his involvement, we see not a glimpse of Iuliu.
According to family documents and photos, Jules’ landmark Bucharest projects (jointly with Marcel, perhaps others on his own) were known to be, inter alia: the Solly Gold building (his name etched into a plaque along with Marcel’s); the Haimovici block (the plaque reads M. I. Iancu — the “I” referring to Iuliu); the Bazaltin building, and homes for Paul Iluță, Marcel Juster, Jacques Costin, Poldi Chapier, and Florica Reich — to name just a few.
In search of his projects outside Bucharest
Beyond Bucharest, Jules’ growing portfolio included numerous projects in Buzău, Sinaia and Predeal – a resort town nestled in the Carpathian mountains, north of the capital. His developments there comprised the Institutul Climato-Terapeutic Bucegi, a sanatorium that he designed and built with Marcel; as well as many other buildings and family residences that he developed on his own – or with his younger brother George, an engineer.
Jules’ memories of his works in Predeal reveal a stark clarity and gift for detail:
“It was in 1926 when a certain Mr. Einhorn (?) came in our office and asked us to build him a bungalow in the mountains. The place was in Predeal. He had a piece of land just in a corner next to the main road and wanted to have something yotze min haklal (extraordinary). We proposed him, because we were in the mountains and all around only forests, to build him and to make the plans for his house it should be done all in wood. He accepted our idea and we started working. As you know, Marcel was still with Rosintal and George was mine to do the plans. And we thought we will do it and it was really a good job. It was the first time that we had to use just logs, which were cut in the forest nearby and assembled together to have a nice bungalow. We made him, if I remember well, a very nice big entrance with a central hall and some four rooms bedrooms, one dining room and a kitchen in the back. We solved the problem in a jiffy, Mr. Einhorn (?) was satisfied and now we had to build it. The idea was – and Mr. Einhorn (?) wanted – that we shall build him also the house, because he didn’t want to have to work with other people. So, we had to build him the house. Marcel couldn’t go there, but I still could go. So I went to Predeal and I stayed some 2 months there, to build his house, and it was really a good job, a fine job, to the satisfaction of everyone…”
“When the first houses for the bank were ready, Mr. Iohannovic (?), the director of the bank, had to pay us the prices of these houses. But he told me that for one of these houses, he hasn’t got the money. So he asked me if I want to take the house and to pay him something for the land and that will be all. We convened to do this thing and I stayed with the house. We finished the house as soon as possible, named it Villa Fanel later, and that was the house in which my son Fanel had all his young years…”
“In between, another client came, it was a general, the chief of the Gendarmerie Royal Romaine, General Dobrescu. He found me on the job and asked if I am willing to build for him also a house. The place was a little higher in the mountains but in the spot. And I told him that I am willing to do it. Now he told me that he hasn’t got too much money but he can dispose of all what I need. I had only to tell him what I need, as materials and manpower, and he will look after these things. I had to be only there to conduct the work, to make the plans and to finish the house. As it was convened with him and for a certain sum, we started also this house…”
On a handwritten map that Iuliu sketched decades ago, he roughly identified the location of a handful of homes that he built. At least two of Iuliu’s properties have been definitively located (Fănel Villa and Grigorescu Villa), one of which bears little resemblance to its original exterior design, but with the same familiar interiors that reflect the thoughtfully pragmatic, sleek and curved aesthetics of a Iancu project. (See the photos below.)
Hiding in plain sight
Like Predeal, Bucharest remains a work-in-progress, with many houses almost certainly still hiding in plain sight – like those recently discovered in Domeniilor and Cotroceni. Yet more scraps of notepaper and other written clues (mainly addresses and names) hint at other unidentified projects: A house built for a lawyer in Cotroceni. An apartment block (now demolished) that stood close to the current site of the National Theater. Two neighbouring Dorobantilor properties developed for a close relative, and potentially other projects developed for the Gold family, since (as a surprising revelation confirmed) Solly and Iuliu were related and relatives often supported one another.
One of Iuliu’s biggest professional triumphs was an impressive undertaking that he was rightly proud of: the planning and project management of the Strandul Kiseleff — a ground-breaking venture commissioned by the FSSR (Federatiei Societatilor de Sport din Romania). The Strandul was heralded at the time as the largest urban beach, (concrete) pool, sporting facility and cabana complex, in interwar Europe; a highly innovative idea combining athletics and leisure, and possibly inspired by Iuliu’s enthusiasm over the ‘Paris-Plage resort that he visited during his two-year sojourn in France. In less than one month, 3000 workers turned the earth into a basin of unparalleled size and grandeur. The monumental compound was inaugurated on July 7, 1929 – with King Carol II of Romania among the attendees. [The Romanian Film Archives contains a precious 1929 silent film about its construction that I unearthed two decades ago and uploaded to YouTube.]
According to a letter in his Corpul file, Iuliu was instrumental in executing the architectural plans (with his brother) and oversaw its hurried construction in the summer of 1929. And yet, despite the grandeur of this ambitious project, on which many members of his family were deeply invested, Iuliu’s name is absent from the permit file, as is Marcel’s.
Recently discovered papers highlight more missing links, along with details of Jules’ network of influence — and at least one aborted project. Among the newly found records is a 1965 statement, signed by his friend and business partner N. Kretzulesco Caracciolo, in which Mr. Kretzulesco refers to architectural projects that Jules helmed, a number of which he visited: “buildings on Str. Golescu, Str. Stelea, Str. Biserica Amzei and Str. Armeneasca.” Further on, referring to a planned 1938 reconstruction of the Kretzulesco Foundation on Calea Victoriei (in the heart of Bucharest), a project initially conferred on Jules, Mr. Kretzulesco writes:
“But the persecution began for the Israelites and the plans made by him for my ancestors’ Foundation were refused by the Town Hall, on the pretext that the projected construction would have dominated the Royal Palace. I had to give up his service and hire Prof. Arch. Duiliu Marcu and (G. M.) Cantacuzino to succeed in building the palace in 1939–1940. Which caused J. Janco to lose more than $12,000 in this case alone, and led to his unemployment.” (Translated from French)
This was neither the first nor last time that Jules would be targeted by antisemitic persecution in the country of his birth.
