support his proposal. He knew how to address the aspects that the jury held important.
However my view of the role of the architectural drawings differs to some extent from
the understanding of Latour and Yaneva.^1017 This research showed that, in a real project,
the architect does not communicate merely through his drawings, a function which
Latour and Yaneva emphasised in their joint article, and that everything “else” is equally
significant. Aalto also learnt a lot from the other actants involved in the process, and
they brought insights of their own fields of expertise.
Latour’s view that a project will never amount to anything as long as its idea remains
pure, is fascinating from the perspective of architecture. A project can only materialise
if it is exposed to and intermingles with other elements through trials. Furthermore,
only when the resulting machine or other artefact, in this case a building, becomes
unquestionably established, so that this synthesis is forgotten, can an idea be perceived
as “pure”.^1018 For this reason, a building may seem a static entity, and its movement is
indiscernible. Latour has aimed to provide theoretical tools to see beneath the static
surface.^1019 When examining the relationship between architecture and technology, it
would be unrealistic to remain exclusively in the domain of ideas.
Beatriz Colomina has, in turn, focused attention on Le Corbusier’s idealised con-
cept of architecture. According to Colomina, Le Corbusier was more interested in
architecture in ink than in the site itself. My own research shows that Aalto, too, was
highly aware of the media space and was able to exploit it with skill.
According to Latour’s theory, the actants thus produced affect the nature of scientists,
laboratories, external actors and thought by partly redefining them. This process of pro-
duction is not one-directional. In my discussion of the architecture of Paimio Sanatorium
in the light of this theory, I pondered whether the outcome was one Aalto had hoped for,
and then arrived at the conclusion that in a way, it was not. At least, the sanatorium did
not turn out the way Aalto had wanted at the competition stage, or in April 1930, when
the master drawings were created and the State Medical Board approved them. Tracing
back the evolution of design solutions exposes the transformation, adaptation or develop-
ment of the architect’s thought. Aalto, the architect-innovator in the Paimio Sanatorium
project, trusted his own idea and that the idea would withstand the trials endured during
the construction process. His confident appearance, for example, in Oslo in 1931 and on
the pages of Byggmästaren in 1932 speaks volumes about his attitude.
For Alvar Aalto, the social dimension of the Paimio Sanatorium project was about
contributing to the defining of the actor-network for the project and communicating with
the network members. Attaching competent collaborators to the project was of decisive
importance. The technological process of Paimio Sanatorium found its shape through
Aalto’s subjective vision, which was informed by international architectural discourse.
Personally witnessing and participating in this discourse strengthened Aalto’s confidence
and courage as the project innovator. Aalto developed his vision through interaction, by
1017 Latour and Yaneva 2008, especially p. 84.
1018 Lehtonen 2000, p. 283.
1019 Latour and Yaneva 2008, pp. 80–81.