Mortin, Westfall and Arendt – The Origins and History of the Historic Preservation Movement in the United States

W. Brown Morton III provides a clear and comprehensive history of architectural preservation and related movements in the United States. He traces the evolution of American preservation through stages of patriotic concerns with “sites and buildings of transcendent national historic importance” [Morton, 151] through contemporary interests which have “multiplied to embrace a concern for the care of the entire natural and built environment.” [Morton, 176] Along the way, he discusses various stages in the development of preservation laws and practices, covering everything from individual buildings and districts to landscapes and archeological sites.

Carroll William Westfall analyzes preservation activities through a system of five classifications of building and site types. He immediately provides his own value judgments on these various classes, indicating that the fifth class will be his concern in this article. He affirms the value of the other classes, in particular the first three, each of which has some “transcendental” character, be it “worthy values,” or “form and content … of transcendental significance,” or finally a “transcendental beauty.” In his opinion, the fourth class, of the “nice building, the charming area … is less than universal and timeless in its scope and reach.” [Westfall, 57] He asserts it is this class that is of too much concern to contemporary preservationists. He then proceeds to discuss key historical developments which led to the omission of this fifth type from contemporary preservation policies.

Ultimately, Morton approves of most current preservation strategies, save for obviously problematic ones such as fanciful and inaccurate restoration projects, certain forms of economically driven preservation or arbitrary age requirements for the National Registrar. Even these, however, he accepts to some extent in light of their role in the development of preservation. For example, about garden restorations of the early 1900s, he warns that they are “easy to criticize in hindsight,” and praises them for “fostering public awareness of historic preservation.” [Morton, 161] Similarly, he recognizes the value of economic incentives in preservation despite some associated problems.

Westfall is essentially critical of current preservation strategies, despite his repeated disclaimers about not wanting to devalue them. He states that “preservation must be seen as a civil and political activity based on justifiable reasons. From reasons flow judgments, and judgments are precisely what are missing in current preservation procedures.” [Westfall, 68] He is convinced that “cities are being destroyed as places that can fulfill their human purpose, which is to make man the best he can be.” [Westfall, 64] Most of all, however, he discusses a shift from a world where even private institutions serve public purposes, to one where “architecture seeks not beauty, but style, its buildings serve not institutional purposes but utilitarian functions.” [Westfall, 71]

Morton and Westfall both discuss the history and present state of historic preservation. Both are concerned with arbitrary legal limitations, and the role of economics in preservation. However, Morton sees the development of preservation laws and practices as a primarily positive evolution. Westfall, conversely, is concerned with where preservation has historically taken wrong turns. Thus, Morton serves more as an apologist for past and present policies, whereas Westfall takes a more critical stance on certain preservation issues. Morton ends his article with reflections on a joyous celebration of multiple national historic anniversaries, with a few preservation suggestions, while Westfall concludes his piece with a serious call to create and preserve a new kind of (old) city. This call necessitates, in turn, more attention to the aforementioned fifth class of buildings to be preserved.

Westfall cites the Chicago and Northwestern Railroad Terminal, the Underwriters’ Laboratory building and the building at 900 North Michigan Avenue as cases of Chicago architecture which fit his fifth classification, that of private buildings which serve public interests. He identifies each of these buildings as having “a congruence between private and civil values.” [Westfall, 71] Specifically, these buildings respectively “serve a public purpose [by] moving people on railroads, protecting the public from the hazards of untested apparatus, or ornamenting the city with decorous private residences.” Each building acknowledges its place in the architectural hierarchy of the city, as well as its own public purpose. As such, Westfall argues that these buildings “ought to be retained as part of the city, even if they no longer server their original roles.” [Westfall, 72] His argument rests on the notion that the present value of these building correspond to “extrinsic” civic value and “intrinsic” civic form they were imbued with at the time of their creation, and continue to maintain despite changes in their function or surroundings.

Given his almost unilateral support of established preservation practices, it seems unlikely that Morton’s discussion could support a legal mandate to preserve of any of these buildings. Writing of the “establishment of historic districts,” Morton questions whether “such measures are appropriate … especially for those possessing marginal historic or architectural merit.” [Morton, 173] The historic significance and architectural expressions of the three buildings in question are not particularly noteworthy in any conventionally accepted sense, as evidenced by the descriptions (in the Westfall article) of those who would seek to deny their preservation status. Perhaps most revealing is Morton’s suggestion that “our job is not to decide what from the past we want to keep, but what from the present.” [Morton, 176] This statement has two significant implications. First, the use of “we want” suggests that this is a subjective evaluation. Second, the idea of keeping things “from the present” indicates that it is current values that give preservation its mandate. Thus, on his view, it seems that a civic value that a building might have had is subjective and does not necessarily endure, and thus would not constitute a necessary preservation imperative. Morton might change his mind if he took more seriously Hannah Arendt’s view of the public realm.

Both Arendt and Westfall support the creation and preservation of works of private and public architecture designed to enhance public or civic life. For Arendt, the public realm is not limited to that which is publicly owned in a strict sense, but rather the entire “space of appearance.” [Arendt, 50] Likewise for Westfall, buildings that are technically privately owned can still be “clothed with public interest.” [Westfall, 52] Arendt is also specifically preoccupied with the “work,” in the form of “the human artifact, the fabrication of human hands.” [Arendt, 51-52] This is the source of “transcendence into earthly immortality.” [Arendt, 55] As has been discussed, Westfall also grants “transcendent” qualities to private buildings worthy of preservation, over buildings which are valued for reasons which are “less than universal and timeless.” [Westfall, 57] Thus, both Arendt and Westfall focus primarily on the significance of works of man in the public realm, and promote the value of protecting them.

Westfall could make good use of Arendt’s framework to reinforce her reasons for separating the natural world from built environments in terms of preservation. Westfall considers the combination of these efforts to be problematic, as it leads to “quality of life” concerns being conflated with concerns for “the artistic, the true, and the beautiful.” This results in the preservation that “proceeds not from reason but from sentiment.” [Westfall, 67] Arendt’s discussion of work and the public realm could thus reinforce Westfall’s case against Morton, who combines nature and architecture in supporting “the care of the entire natural and built environment.” [Morton, 177] A careful reading of Arendt could help both Westfall and Morton to clarify their discussions. Morton could thus analyze his argument into more discreet parts, while Westfall could clarify the critical significance of “work” in preservation.

The issues that Westfall raises are certainly provocative, and worthy of discussion. However, it is difficult to imagine how they might be resolved through anything but a radical paradigm shift in attitudes toward preservation. Practically speaking, the civic virtues cited in his examples could be argued for a great number of buildings, including many which Westfall would probably not ultimately wish to preserve. The determination of which buildings embody civic values could be contested to no end. Generally speaking, architects should try to create civic buildings, designed for the public realm as much as for the private client. Preservationists, however, should not be given a mandate to preserve private buildings designed to serve debatable public purposes, especially if this is done irregardless of their current use or place within a larger contemporary public context.

Contemporary Architecture and Green Roofs

NOTE: I have received a number of questions from people who want to know the basics of green design and/or green roof systems. Readers interested in the subject may not want to read the entirety of the following article. Here is another article regarding the basics of green building design that may be more appropriate. For other more reader-friendly architectural articles visit this site.

Traditional roof gardens, such as the legendary Hanging Gardens of Babylon (Figure 1), are as old as recorded history. More recently, however, this model for roof landscaping has been upgraded through the development of green roofs, pioneered in Europe. Green roof systems are becoming increasingly popular in the United States, as research and technology continue to catch up to interest and demand. Green roofs serve a number of uses, both aesthetic and functional. On the one hand, they serve to increase the amount of green area in cities, where land resources are scarce, converting otherwise wasted roofscapes into planted zones. On the other hand, they serve more practical ends, helping convert carbon dioxide back into oxygen, filtering pollutants, mitigating storm water runoff, lengthening the lifespan of a roof and even reduce heating and cooling demands within a building in winter and summer, respectively. [Penn State GRR]

Figure 1: Artist’s digital reconstruction showing the roof gardens of King Nebuchadnezzar

From an engineering and technology standpoint, the primary demand of a green roof system on a building is placed on its structure. When compared to older roof garden technologies, the development of alternative growth media (to replace soil) and other advancements have made it possible to reduce this demand. Nonetheless, depending upon the roof system, additional loads can range from 8 pounds psf for a low-depth green “carpet” to an 80 psf load for a “woodland” with a deeper base and taller vegetation, including medium-height trees. [Roofscapes Inc.]
Green roof systems require a means of drainage, a growth media and then the plant layer on top. It is essential that the roof be designed such that root systems will not be able to penetrate the roof membrane, which could result in leaks and, ultimately, costly repairs. The selection of appropriate vegetation for green roofs is also essential. Ideally, roofs should be populated self-seeding species, which are also resilient in the face of the seasonal demands within a given climate region.

Figure 2: Axonometric diagram showing a typical green roof assembly [Roofscapes Inc.]
A number of passive design goals can be achieved using green roof systems, which, in turn, can significantly affect the performance of a building. For example, a green roof provides higher insulation values. According to one study, done in Canada, a 6-inch deep green roof “reduced heat gains by 95% and heat losses by 26%.” Also, green roofs provide additional sound insulation – an 8-inch deep system can reduce noise by up to 50 decibels. [Green Roofs for Healthy Cities]
Green roofs also affect the larger urban or rural context surrounding a given building. They improve air quality by particles and re-converting carbon dioxide into oxygen. They also reduce the “heat island effect” produced by light-to-heat conversion, exacerbated in cities by the preponderance of heat re-radiating road and roof surfaces. Aforementioned stormwater mediation also reduces the load on city sewer systems. In non-urban contexts, erosion of the nearby soil can also be reduced. The durability and increased lifespan of green roofs additionally means less waste and cost in terms of re-roofing – green roofs can last up to twice as long as traditional roofs.

Figure 3: Environmental impact of green roof systems [Green Roofs for Healthy Cities]
Green roofs can have a significant impact on the tectonic expression of a building. Even a thin green covering on a flat roof, not visible from the ground, can still be seen from any taller buildings in the surrounding area. Many green roofs are much more visible, either because they are sloped, have higher vegetation, or are placed on an intermediate roof area below the highest point of a building. In such cases, they can act as additional expressive elements, and an added layer in front of the building elevation.
In addition to the visibility of the vegetation, the depth required to accommodate the various layers of a green roof – as well as any additional depth of the structural system to hold the weight of it – can affect the expression of a building at the top of its side elevations. The use of a green roof also limits a roof slope, since, even with additional support, most systems can not accommodate much more than a 1:2 slope, given the potential problem of erosion due to wind and gravity (Figure 4).

Figure 4: Sectional diagram showing n reinforcement on a sloped roof [Roofscapes Inc.]
The various engineering, technological and passive design principals of green roofs, which have been discussed, have significant implications for other building systems. Stormwater retention facilities, for example, can be much reduced if a green roof is present. The amount of this reduction depends upon the character of the roof. According to Roofscapes, Inc., between 15% and 90% of the runoff from buildings can be absorbed by – and eventually evaporated through – a green roof. As such, cisterns and other methods of stormwater retention could be also reduced by a relative volume. Extra water can even be used for grey-water functions (e.g. toilets) in buildings. Given the previously discussed impact of green roofs on heat gain and loss in summer and winter, active heating and cooling systems can also be reduced in capacity. Again, however, this depends upon the type of building as well as the type of roof. Through a reduction in various system requirements, achieved by the installation of a green roof, the Seattle Justice Center saves as much as $150,000 per year (Figure 5).

Figure 5: Seattle Justice Center, opened in November 2002, designed with green in mind
Green roofs can be found around the world, some of them covering extensive areas to great environmental benefit. In Switzerland, one such roof – almost one hundred years old – covers a water treatment plant, totaling 320,000 square feet, which keeps the building cool and preserves plant species that are otherwise extinct in the area. As mentioned, green roofs are also becoming increasingly popular in the United States. A Ford manufacturing plant in Michigan has over 450,000 square feet of green roof (Figure 6a), turning a vast roofscape into an environmentally friendly surface. [Wikipedia]
At the other extreme, there are smaller scale “intensive” green roofs, supporting recreational activities, and mimicking more “natural” settings with larger and more flexible areas of growth supporting more sizable plant and tree materials. These require more maintenance, and have more of a visual impact on a building. In the below image, the green roof on top of the Coast Plaza Hotel in Vancouver appears indistinguishable from a ground-level park area (Figure 6b).
Though Europe is still well ahead of the United States in green roof design, evaluation, and legislated economic support, the benefits of these systems are now, more than ever before, being recognized and championed by American architects.

Figure 6a: Ford Plant, Michigan Figure 6b: Coast Plaza Hotel, Vancouver

Sources

Penn State Green Roof Research – http://hortweb.cas.psu.edu/research/greenroofcenter/index.html

Roofscapes, Inc. –
http://www.roofmeadow.com/

Green Roofs for Healthy Cities –
http://www.greenroofs.org/

Wikipedia: Green Roof –
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Green_roof

King, Robertson and Pieterse on Globalization and Architecture

King advocates the role of the built environment and design professions in both shaping global culture and representing a physical repository of information about culture. He justifies his claim citing the fact that virtually ‘all forms of cultural performance and representation’ require physical sites, shaped by designers and users, for their practice or presence. Though he subscribes to the idea of a global culture he contends that globalization does necessarily entail homogeny within the built environment, but rather asserts that internal connections (within nations/states) and external connections (between nations or states) reinforce heterogeneity of built forms.

Robertson argues against the popular notion that globalization – or the “compression of the world” – results in hegemonic homogenization which is locally resisted (i.e. the universal being fought in favor of maintaining an existing particular). He appropriates the concept of Glocalization to illustrate that globalization also results in the production and/or reproduction of local identities, as supposed “producers of global culture” cater their products to different markets and local adoption and interpretation of global products changes the nature of said products. He concludes that the mechanisms associated with globalization and homogenization are not diametrically opposed to, but rather interconnected with, the (re)production of the particular and global heterogeneity.

Pieterse, like the first two authors, eschews existing (popular) conceptions of globalization, its straightforward origins in modernity (rather than the reverse), and its conflation with Westernization, though focuses more (than the other two) on heterogeneity through hybridization. He emphasizes the idea that globalization itself is inherently pluralistic, taking different forms both between and amongst various disciplines, which suggests that the effects of globalization can’t be generally described in simplistic terms as leading to standardization (homogeny). Globalization, to his thinking, means an increase in diversity (heterogeneity) because more global interactions result in a greater amount of hybridization both within and between different legal political entities (nations or states) thus adding to old paradigms through new (re)combinations.

Each of the above authors raises issues which increase the theoretical complexities of practicing architecture (or other forms of design) in a globalizing world. King’s position suggests that built form plays an important role in shaping culture, and moreover that globalization will lead to an increasingly complex interplay within and between architectural forms and symbols. However, King fails to suggest overall strategies through which this role can be analyzed and turned to the advantage of the designer. He does indicate that historical study, or what we might call ‘case studies,’ might be the most relevant source (more so than theory, certainly), but these seem increasingly difficult to apply in the face of the aforementioned complexities. What Robertson describes as the process of Glocalization also raises difficult issues concerning this typical mode of architectural case study work, frequently used to understand a local building tradition and/or type. Specifically, it suggests that looking to local case studies may reveal less about the nature of localized architectural processes than would looking at both the external forces at work on a given locality and the ways in which these external forces are selectively viewed, accepted, and rejected within said locality, an ever-evolving process. Finally, Pieterse’s contention that hybridization multiplies particulars in a globalizing world implies that understanding the specific nature of specific localities will increasingly rely on an understanding of their origins in and connections to other localities. Thus, the design situation becomes more complex, and, increasingly, designers will have to broaden their scope in order to reconcile the heterogeneity entailed by globalization and other related factors.

Globalization(s) can be viewed as the process(es) by which the world becomes increasingly networked, and thus conceptually smaller. Homogeny, heterogeneity and hybridization are variously influenced (and are influences), though none of these are necessarily confined to a specific time or space (e.g. geographic region or political entity). The implications of this are multiple, but include a breakdown of traditional notions of hierarchical dissemination of uniform cultural information (Westernization) to be replaced, instead, by a complex of interpenetrations which continually reshape cultural landscapes.

Critique of the Henry Art Gallery as a Seattle Urban Design Project

The Henry Art Gallery is located at a key intersection of pedestrian and vehicular traffic as well as a significant point of connection between the University of Washington and the surrounding commercial and residential University District. In particular, the recent addition to the gallery complex had to deal with unique issues of public circulation and visual connections. In this paper, I will argue that the primarily East/West circulation strategies that take pedestrians through the site and East/West visual connections across the site are handled admirably while North/South pedestrian and vehicular circulation routes past the site and visual experiences along its length leave much to be desired.

Overview of East/West Relationship

The Henry sits just East of Red square, a significant plaza space and circulation intersection for the main part of the campus, engaging multiple lecture halls and libraries. Other major lecture halls as well as key administrative buildings are located off the main campus to the west of the Henry. Further, many bus stops, student residences, the University Bookstore and other student-oriented businesses are situated West and North of the site, particularly along University Way (aka “The Ave”). West and immediately South of the building are significant bus stops adjacent to the site along 15th Avenue. The Henry also sits on top of a major parking garage, for visitors to the museum and the university at large. For vehicular traffic, including buses, 15th Avenue sits at the terminus of Campus Parkway, a major East/West street with two lanes of traffic and a median in between, which ties the campus to The Ave and to the University Bridge.

Moving from Red Square toward the Henry, pedestrians go down a series of steps and follow a path which opens up to engage the public space situated to the South of the main entry space to the museum. Passing the statue of George Washington, they encounter the main museum building forward and to their right, juxtaposed with a smaller structure (the partial enclosure for bicycle parking as well as stairs and elevator to the parking garage below) forward and to their left. These elements serve to frame a central space, thus providing a helpful visual cue – a pair of apparent walls providing a continuity of direction as the path opens up. Further, the resulting central space presents pedestrians with some greenery and objects of interest, which draw the eye forward.

The rectangular and triangular glass objects in the middle, apparently set on pedestals or into greenery respectively, seem, at first glance, to be some kind of public art installation, objects of intrinsic aesthetic interest. In fact, this effect cleverly masks their functional use as skylights for gallery spaces on the museum floors below. Also, taken as a group, these objects further subdivide the path, guiding people to either side without forcing an abrupt change in direction, and supporting the initial implied division of paths created by the presence of the George Washington statue. Thus, these objects serve to enliven this public space and draw people into and through it while also being functional means of bringing natural light into subterranean museum spaces. The left (South) path leads past the stairs and elevator to the underground garage toward a spiral staircase down to 15th Avenue, while the right (North) path leads past the main museum entrance and across 15th, down some stairs, and onto a plaza space adjacent to Schmitz Hall, the University’s main administrative building.

Atop the central stalk of the spiral staircase sits another interesting set of objects – glass block inlaid into the concrete cylinder. Again, this move serves an aesthetic function – a glittering curve laid into bare concrete. In addition, it draws pedestrians to it and provides light to gallery spaces below. Moving down the spiral staircase, one is reoriented to the street below through a rhythm of relative darkness next to the building and controlled views to the sidewalk and street beyond. Then, people are ultimately oriented toward the bus stops immediately adjacent as well as other buildings beyond them to the South. Thus, the staircase is successfully presented as a point of interest at its peak and takes advantage of orientations to point people in what are likely to be their directions of travel from either side – bus stops at the bottom and the main campus at the top. It also serves to create a dynamic contrast with the other off-campus experience of the apparently floating foot bridge, which is linear, wide open and seems to hover over 15th avenue.

Moving past the slightly recessed entry to the museum, pedestrians come to the relatively narrow bridge across 15th. This bridge is angled slightly North of West, likely due to relative position of the site and path as compared to Campus Parkway. Nonetheless, this orientation seems to respond to the traffic through the site and the likely destinations of those traveling along it. Specifically, most of the commercial and residential off-campus activities in the area take place to the West and North of the site. Also, though it is of a different type and only visible on the approach to the bridge from below, a curious bronze statue lends the bridge some additional aesthetic interest. Still, it is difficult to determine how much this bridge should be included in this critique, since it is a remnant from prior to the recent addition. However, if nothing else, the bridge is well integrated into the new scheme, contrasting with the spiral stair and shaped by the placement of the skylights and building entrance.

From below, visitors to the museum as well as students, faculty and staff of the university move up and into the site more directly via an elevator and staircase. Both of these connections are dealt with well, each with respect to a gradation of lighting conditions. Moving up the stairs, the progressive experience of light is handled with clever subtly. First, artificial lights give way to diffuse natural East light through a flat wall glass blocks inserted into a concrete wall (which also give an aesthetic nod to the spiral staircase with its curved glass block). Second, this diffuse natural light gives way to an open window in the South concrete wall of the partial concrete enclosure. Third, a larger window is presented to the West before a full wall is laid open to the North. At this opening, one finally emerges, oriented toward the museum entrance across the field of skylights, but presented with all other circulation options and views on all sides as well. With the elevator, a gradation of experience is less plausible, but as present as possible. As one comes up in the elevator, better lit than the garage, one steps out and confronts the Western wall rather than any direct view, and thus still feels relatively enclosed while also being surrounded by partial views – which at least prevents a potentially boring or jarring experiences of either coming into a full enclosure or directly into the open. In the case of both the stairs and the elevator, it is clear that the sequence of experiences as treated carefully in terms of the function of light, but also in terms of creating aesthetic connections to other related elements of the site, such as the spiral staircase, and views in various directions.

Approaching the museum from the West, on foot or by car along Campus Parkway, the curved roof of the lower museum level curves up and away from 15th Avenue and toward campus. In this case, unfortunately, the three large curved planes of glass on this roof surface clearly did not work out for the museum – likely because they were letting in too much direct light. Again, though, we find an aesthetic gesture tied to a functional move, which creates both a point of interest and an indication of orientation and change of grade. These large glazed zones adjacent to the larger vehicular streetscape, were they open, would also tie this roof to the smaller skylights on the pedestrian level above, displaying a responsiveness to relative scale as well. From this Western side, the two paths of the spiral staircase and pedestrian bridge are split by this curving roof and clearly differentiated as a result, much as the skylights above create a similar division. Thus, this section of curved roof atop a lower wall successfully draws the approaching viewer up and over, pulling the eye into main campus, past the statue and into Red Square, visually connecting the campus with Campus Parkway, which, as has been mentioned, is the primary traffic route for cars coming across the University Bridge and heading for the campus. Further, taken as a whole, this variegated elevation presents a dynamic and engaging composition internally, while also creating interesting contrasts with the campus buildings above and beyond it.

Overview of North/South Relationships

Along the West side of the museum, 15th Avenue is a major North/South connection which draws on vehicular traffic from Pacific Avenue to the South as well as 45th Street to the North, which in turn lead to the University Medical Center, IMA, Montlake Bridge and HWY 520 to the Southeast and deeper into the University District as well as beyond to HWY I-5 and Wallingford, Fremont and Ballard to the Northwest. For pedestrians, this route is admittedly somewhat less used but is still a major adjacent thoroughfare for foot traffic as well as a significant border to the main part of campus. Along the East side of the museum, the primarily pedestrian George Washington Lane, also used by university vehicles, connects Southeastern parts of campus to places in the North. It is used by many campus-goers to connect from off-campus to the Northern campus as well, though still not as major as the aforementioned East/West pathways.

Circulation and Visual Connections Past and Along the Site

Moving North along the West side of the site, following 15th Avenue, the spiral staircase does present an interesting option. However, once one has moved past the staircase, the sidewalk narrows and vegetation crops up to block the building. When these bushes give way, and the sidewalk broadens back in toward the building, one might expect to be welcomed into the lower level of the museum, or at least to see some interesting window into it. What awaits one, however, is an apparently permanently closed door without decoration or invitation. Similarly, when approaching from the North along 15th, vegetation blocks a view of a building, again in an uninspiring manner, neither fully engaging the building nor really addressing the street. Again, one might expect these to give way to an interesting window into the museum, or at least a hint of what’s inside, rather than a disappointing view into a largely unused and dim courtyard through discouraging metal bars. However, the hope again arises that the apparent setback a little further down might lead to some sort of an entrance, but then one is confronted with that same dull blank door. The large lettering of the Henry Art Gallery, with a little line leading the eye to this unused door (much like the smaller script and line on the level above lead to the true entrance) further serve to confuse the issue, as there is no open entry to match this bold welcome anywhere to be found. Perhaps the original scheme included this door as an alternate entrance, but, if so, it should have been left out entirely in the final design.

Moving North along the East side of the site, following George Washington Lane, one follows a low brick wall and slowly encounters a larger vista to the West. When one finally has a view to what is more immediately below to the West, one again encounters an unfortunately boring sight: an exposed outdoor service parking lot with nondescript museum vehicles and little else of interest. Looking farther up, toward the main buildings, the relationship of the spiral stair and other building elements is unclear, and the view of the courtyard area is hidden. The open courtyard area, once revealed, does draw one to it, but this time to the detriment of those who wish to pass by and move farther North. Further, the blank façade of the concrete and metal structure beyond, interspersed with only a few darkened windows to uninteresting non-gallery spaces, presents a tedious and repetitive long face of the building to walk parallel to. Finally, at the North end of the building, an abrupt end to the structure coincides with a seemingly unrelated circular concrete service building, left naked and detached from the main part of the building for no apparent reason.

A Good Building and a Great Building

It would be fair to say that the East/West circulation and visual relationships across and through the site represent more significant design concerns than the lesser-experience North/South relationships past and along it. Still, given the impressive care taken by the architects in the former of these cardinal pairings, I find it rather unfortunate that little such treatment was given to the latter of them. In the East/West direction, the integration of functional moves with aesthetic gestures, as well as the use of clever geometries and material relationships, come together to create a complex and coherent whole. However, when viewed along the length of the building, these moves seem to fall apart, giving way to awkward circulation surprises and dull visual revelations, as well as uninteresting flat facades and repetitive boring materiality. For most buildings, there is only so much one can take on, given the complexities of an urban site, the need for public space, the existence of an historical building, the demands of a budget and the wills of various clients. Still, the ability to take all of these in hand and make a building work in all directions could have turned this project from a good one into a great one.

Architecture – Design and Theory

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