Kunsthaus Zürich

Stand for a moment on Heimplatz and listen. Trams grind and chime as they turn the corner. Footsteps cross the wide square, and a breeze often drifts down from the hillside above. On one side rises a solid building of grey stone with carved panels along its walls. On the other side stands a pale, clean-edged block with tall vertical fins. You are standing between two halves of one museum. This is the Kunsthaus Zürich, and the square itself is part of the visit.

Let us start with the older building, the one with the carved stone. It was designed by the Swiss architect Karl Moser and opened in 1910. Moser was one of the leading Swiss architects of his generation. Look at the facade and you will see relief sculptures set into the stone. Figures and decorative panels run along the walls. They were planned as part of the architecture from the beginning. Together they tell visitors that art begins here even before the front door.

Here is something many visitors do not know. The Kunsthaus is not a state museum in the usual sense. It belongs to the Zürcher Kunstgesellschaft, the Zurich Art Society. This is a private association of art lovers, and its roots reach back to the early nineteenth century. City and canton give support, but citizens built this institution. That civic spirit explains a lot. The museum grew through donations, foundations and members who wanted Zurich to have a serious home for art.

Now look near the entrance of the Moser building. A large dark bronze stands there, covered with twisting human figures. This is a cast of The Gates of Hell by Auguste Rodin, the French sculptor. Rodin worked on this design for many years. It was inspired by Dante's Inferno, the great medieval Italian poem about a journey through hell. Step closer and look for the small seated figure at the top. Many people know that figure from its later fame as The Thinker.

The museum did not stop growing in 1910. Through the twentieth century it added new wings and more galleries. Each addition carries the style of its own time. As you walk inside, you may notice the shift from heavy stone rooms to lighter, more open spaces. The building works almost like a timeline of changing ideas about how a museum should feel. Older rooms feel enclosed and calm. Later rooms let in more daylight and give the art more air.

Then, in 2021, came the biggest change. Across the square, a large extension opened, designed by David Chipperfield Architects, the British practice. With this building, the Kunsthaus became the largest art museum in Switzerland. Look at the facade. Pale stone fins rise in a steady rhythm from the ground to the roofline. The design is quiet and serious. It does not shout at the old building. Instead, it faces Moser's work across Heimplatz like a calm partner.

A second surprise is hidden under your feet. The two buildings are connected by an underground passage beneath the square. You can walk from the early twentieth century into the twenty-first without stepping into the traffic. Behind the new building there is also a garden. It was planned as a quiet green space between the museum and the university quarter. On a warm afternoon it feels removed from the city, even though the trams are close by.

Inside, the collection covers many centuries. There are older European paintings, but the museum is best known for modern art. One of its great strengths is Alberto Giacometti. Giacometti was a Swiss sculptor and painter, famous for very thin, tall human figures. The Kunsthaus holds one of the most important Giacometti collections in the world. Stand near one of his figures and notice how small you feel. The figures seem fragile, and yet they stand firmly in the room.

The museum also holds a large group of works by Edvard Munch, the Norwegian painter. It is one of the most significant Munch collections outside Norway. Swiss art is also strong here. Look for Ferdinand Hodler, whose paintings of mountains and lakes use strong outlines and rhythmic, repeated forms. Look also for Henry Fuseli, born in Zurich as Johann Heinrich Füssli. He became famous in London for dark, dreamlike scenes. His work feels strange and theatrical, even today.

Zurich has a special place in the story of modern art for another reason. In 1916, during the First World War, a group of artists and writers gathered in this city. They created Dada, a movement that mocked logic and tradition through nonsense poems, collage and performance. Their small club met in the old town, not far from here. The Kunsthaus holds works connected to Dada. Seeing them in Zurich gives them extra weight, because this is where that rebellion began.

The Chipperfield building also houses the collection of Emil Bührle. Bührle was an industrialist who made his fortune producing weapons, including sales during the Second World War. His collection includes major French Impressionist paintings. Its presence here has caused serious public debate. Historians and the public have questioned how some works were acquired, especially from Jewish owners during the Nazi period. The museum now presents this history openly in the galleries. It is worth reading the context panels before you look at the paintings.

Now look around Heimplatz once more. On another side of the square stands the Schauspielhaus, one of the city's main theatres. The university and the old town are only a short walk away. This corner of District 1 is where art, theatre and study sit close together. In the evening, people stream in for performances while the museum lights glow across the square. The whole square works like an open hall between institutions.

Before you move on, pause again between the two buildings. On one side is Moser's carved stone, built when cars were still rare on these streets. On the other side is Chipperfield's pale rhythm of fins, finished barely a few years ago. Rodin's figures still twist in their bronze frame by the entrance. Listen to the trams, watch people cross the square... and notice how a single city decision, made over a century, still shapes the space where you stand.