Monument for the Jews

A Memorial Against the Madness of Annihilation – Architecture as the Language of Collective Memory

In the urban fabric of our cities—amidst motion, noise, and speed—there must be spaces of stillness, places where memory is not only thought but physically experienced. A memorial against the madness of annihilation toward humanity must not remain a passive sculpture—it must become space, it must become architecture. It must carry meaning—not just symbolically, but semantically.

Drawing from Umberto Eco’s semiotic thinking, architecture is not a mute object but a bearer of signs—a system of meanings to be read, interpreted, and felt. Eco speaks of “open meaning,” where the message is not dictated but unfolds through the viewer’s interpretation. In this sense, the memorial is not a monument of fixed thought but an open text—addressing both individual and collective memory.

A Roofless Space Enclosed by Broken Walls

The proposed form is radical and poetic: an island within the urban landscape—a closed space that resists closure. Broken walls define the perimeter, open to the sky, exposed. This fragmentation speaks to broken humanity and invites reflection on the fragility of human coexistence. Without a roof, the space is not sealed but permeable to light, to weather, to time. It rejects classical monumentality and becomes a space of remembrance through its very vulnerability.

Water – A Mirror of Heavenly Peace

Surrounding the island is water—at once a barrier and a bond. It isolates the memorial from the city’s bustle while offering a mirrored surface—a moment of calm, a space for reflection. Water, as an element of cleansing, transition, and the unspeakable, becomes in Eco’s sense a strong semantic sign: water is never just water—it evokes myths, emotions, and notions of life, death, and rebirth.

Fractured Boundaries as Spatial Semantics

As the walls are broken, so too are the boundaries between inside and outside, between memory and present. The memorial remains open—it does not dictate a definitive judgment, but becomes a constant call for vigilance. Its fragmentation is its message: nothing here is whole, nothing unbroken. And yet—perhaps precisely because of this—it becomes a space for humanity.

An Urban Square, a Semantic Space

The architecture of this memorial resists representation; it chooses evocation. It does not demand silent reverence, but invites active reflection. It is a place that speaks through its form, its materials, its openness—yet leaves room for personal thoughts, memories, and feelings. The memorial is not a space of conclusion, but one of open dialogue—between past, present, and future.