Icon, connector, and a platform for everyone

Rotterdam in the 1980s.
A city still rebuilding after the devastation of the Second World War.
Civil servants had their own visions for Rotterdam, harbor barons viewed the Maas River, which split the city in two, as their private domain, the North looked down on the South, and the South embraced its role as the outsider.
But some people saw something different — a bridge that would unite Rotterdam into one city.
An icon that would put Rotterdam on the map, far beyond the Dutch borders.

One of those people was Riek Bakker, who had just been appointed Director of Urban Development for the Municipality of Rotterdam. When she first presented her ideas, she remembers ashtrays flying across the meeting tables — not everyone was convinced of the need for a bridge that would connect two completely different halves of the city. A bridge that would become an economic engine and a catalyst for Rotterdam’s growth.
A bridge that would make possible the development of Kop van Zuid — the former, neglected harbor area on the south bank of the river.

It was there, in Zuid, that Riek began her lobbying and planted the seed for her ambitious vision.
And the people of Zuid said “yes.” They wanted to move forward — and not just a little.
They said yes to this no-nonsense woman with vision, a determined doer they could relate to — as Rotterdam as it gets. Their South Rotterdam was about to be turned upside down, and Riek showed them what it could become — that it was necessary and that it could be done. So they joined her on the barricades. Sleeves rolled up, mouths open — true Rotterdam style. Then came a city government that saw the opportunity and had the courage to invest in the version Riek had fought for. Very different from what the city was used to: a bold design by young architect Ben van Berkel, costing 365 million guilders. And that, Riek says, was the turning point in the whole story:
“If the city council hadn’t dared to take the risk, Rotterdam would be a completely different city today.
The lesson other cities can learn from Rotterdam? A government that, even in times of crisis, dares to invest in an entire district — half a city — that everyone thought was hopeless. That seizes the moment and says: now is exactly the time. Combined with participation — because if you don’t bring your residents along, it simply won’t work.”

Architect Michiel Raaphorst, from V8 Architects — the firm behind the Dutch Pavilion at the World Expo in Dubai — witnessed the construction of the Erasmus Bridge up close. Before setting up his office at the foot of the bridge, he lived there as a young architecture student in an anti-squat apartment.

“Even now, I look at this bridge every day with awe and admiration. What continues to amaze me is how timeless yet expressive this structure is. Some designs eventually fade into their surroundings — but not this one. The Erasmus Bridge always stands out; it’s a true icon.”

According to Raaphorst, the bridge embodies the ultimate Bilbao effect — an architectural design that lifts its surroundings out of obscurity, just as the Guggenheim Museum transformed Bilbao into a must-visit destination and gave the region an economic boost.

“The Erasmus Bridge has that same effect, especially on what’s happening in Rotterdam South. It’s not just a symbol of courage, audacity, and strength — it’s a manifesto of its time. A sincere belief in the power of distinctive design, and in using that design to put a place on the map. That’s how design should always work: not bogged down by procedures and regulations, but driven by vision and ambition.”

He draws a parallel with the Dutch Pavilion his team designed for the Dubai World Expo 2020:
“That project shows what happens when you are given — and give — space to create. Three years ago, our client, the Netherlands Enterprise Agency, gave us that freedom: ‘Develop a pavilion where water, energy, and food come together. Build a team, here’s the budget — construct it, and later take it down again.’”