A dramatic wedge of steel, concrete, and glass slices through the neoclassical arsenal building in Dresden. This bold insertion, completed in 2011, is the work of renowned architect Daniel Libeskind. Born in 1946 to Jewish parents in Łódź, Poland, Libeskind transformed the Bundeswehr Museum of Military History into a spatial reflection of Germany’s violent history.
Address/Directions
Militärhistorisches Museum der Bundeswehr
Olbrichtpl. 2
01099 Dresden
Directions
Originally housed in the 1877 arsenal building, the Bundeswehr Museum of Military History presented a paradox: a façade of classical grandeur framing the tools of war. In 2001, Libeskind was commissioned to redesign the museum—to reframe its relationship to state power and historical memory.
He began by stripping the E-shaped sandstone structure back to its original core. Roughly one fifth of its volume was removed to make way for the new intervention: a 30-meter-high steel-and-concrete wedge, tapering forward and opening dramatically skyward. Its visible core is exposed inside the building, while its exterior is clad in aluminum panels. The insertion breaks the symmetry of the old arsenal and undermines its triumphalist air, exposing the contradictions of a military museum tasked with reflecting critically on violence. Libeskind calls this his “purest” project.
The wedge and the original building embody two opposing design languages. Together, they force visitors to confront the tension between linear historical narratives and the chaotic reality of war.
The wedge’s shape and orientation are highly symbolic. Its footprint matches that of a WWII bomb crater, and its pointed tip aligns with the former stadium in the Ostragehege—a key landmark used by Allied bombers. From the fourth floor of the wedge, visitors experience a ‘pilot’s perspective’ of the destroyed and reconstructed city, drawing the outside world into the exhibition itself.
The museum route repeatedly leads guests through the wedge, where the Bundeswehr presents a critical reflection on its role and the causes of armed conflict. The new intervention not only fractures the physical structure, but also reframes the intellectual content.
Among Libeskind’s many product designs are two lever handles, one named for his wife Nina. This gesture reflects both the importance of partnership and his deep interest in the symbolism of architectural touchpoints.
For this project, Libeskind specified the FSB 1070 handle series. Originally developed in the 1970s, the design features a rounded, symmetrical geometry and circular rose. Once made in 14 colors of polyamide, it was a cheerful fixture in many public buildings. Libeskind, however, opted for the brushed stainless steel version—installing it on the fire-rated steel doors of a museum dedicated to catastrophe. In this context, the familiar shape becomes unsettling—a subtle disruption in a space devoted to rupture.
