Over the last year a lot has been happening, including getting married, starting a new job and working with the ICA and NCAS. I have been writing though I've been concentrating on writing longer more scholarly work. I do however intend (as I've said too many times before) to start blogging more often. I hope to use this perhaps as a way to work out parts of ideas I'm working on for a few scholarly articles I hope to publish soon. I'm also trying to work out a new name for the blog, so suggestions would be welcome, as I'm trying to use this blog as more of a more scholarly laboratory than just a news feed.
One article I just had published was on the recently completed renovation of the Cathedral of St. Joseph in Sioux Falls, South Dakota. The renovation was overseen by Duncan Stroik, a former boss and professor of mine at Notre Dame. The article was published by Adoremus Bulletin, where you can read the article in full. I encourage you however to purchase a copy of the article if you like it, as the print version includes a number of beautiful full color photos of the renovation.
Showing posts with label preservation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label preservation. Show all posts
September 15, 2011
October 22, 2010
Altes Museum (Old Museum) Berlin
by
Erik Bootsma
The Altes Museum by Karl Friedrich Schinkel. Finished in 1830 the building was the height of Greek style architecture. (Thomas Gordon Smith refuses to use the term "Revival" in speaking of the style, and so do I) The building survived vicious fighting during WWII and survived the fate of the Communist regime after the war. The Royal Palace once stood on the same island in the Spree but was unceremoniously replaced with a hideous modernist block, (which is now being torn down to rebuild the Palace).
January 20, 2010
Haiti's Presidential Palace
by
Erik Bootsma
Due to the tremendous loss of life and suffering there, I've waited a little while to post these thoughts about the impact of this month's earthquake on the architecture of Haiti. There is a terrible habit of some professions to use tragedy as a convenient way to get publicity, even architects, so I waited to post these thoughts some time afterward.
One of the first things that I noticed in the photos of the devastation wreaked upon the island nation of Haiti was the destruction of the Presidential Palace in Port au Prince. This majestic beaux-arts building, according to wikipedia, was built by French trained Haitian architect George H Baussan, in a French imperial style.
My question is what will the fate of this building be in the reconstruction? Certainly I don't want to diminish the loss of tens of thousands of lives by quibbling over a building, but I do think it is an important thought. As some reports have said, the building's destruction has become symbolic of the destruction of the country as a whole, but will the reconstruction of this building in all of its majesty be the symbol of the reconstruction?
I hope, as many readers probably would guess, is that the building either be reconstructed as it was, at least in appearance. Or better yet, that a new classical building replace it. My worst fears however are that the building would be replaced by a modernist monstrosity, ala Thom Mayne's Alaska Capitol scheme.
What are your thoughts? Would it be appropriate to design a new classical design? How about a competition to do so?
August 23, 2009
If Only France still had a Royal Family
by
Erik Bootsma
The Qatari Royal family is moving full steam ahead to modernize the historic Hotel Lambert in Paris. Just wondering if Parisians wish they had some Royal connections to the Qataris to prevent such madness. A well I guess its better to be free.
June 30, 2009
Westminster Abbey Competition for the Design of a New "Corona"
by
Erik Bootsma
The London Times reports on a (possibly) exciting competion to complete Westminster Abbey's long unfinished crossing spire. The Abbey, site of coronations and royal weddings for nearly a millenia, has over time been added upon and improved by the likes of Sir Chrisopher Wren and George Gilbert Scott. However, the spires and towers proposed by numerous architects for the crossing have never been built. The crossing now is to be surmounted by a "corona" to mark the 75th anniversary of the coronation of Queen Elizabeth II, and likely to celebrate the crowning of the Prince of Wales as King Charles III.
Now since Prince Charles is likely to be at least personally interested in this project, one has to wonder who will be chosen to submit the design and what will the design be like? Will the Royal Institute of British Architects reign supreme over this project and demand a modernist scheme? Will the nonsensical preservationist criteria of designing in a markedly different style (meaning exclusively modern) be trotted out?
Or will sanity be preserved and the design be classical/gothic and be more sympathetic to the historic church? Given the amount of vitriol and venom recently spewed in the direction of the Prince for his offering of an opinion on the Chelsea Barracks plan, one is likely to see the level of attack on classical architecture and Prince himself to reach a fevered pitch. If a classical scheme by Quinlan Terry is even part of the discussion, the charges of royal interference in the benighted practice of architecture (as if patrons don't have a choice), and how Prince Charles is singlehandedly trying to destroy architecture.
However I think HRH will yet again appeal to the common sense of beauty and tradition in the face of such barbs, and will yet again be backed not by the popularity of the architectural elite, but of his people. The Abbey has yet to unveil the designs for the corona, so there is still reason to hope that a classical design will be chosen, far better hope than we might have here in the US in a similar situation. The tide is changing in England, and as I've said before, it is in no small part due to the Prince's good opinion and taste for the traditional and classical beauty found still in Britain.
Now since Prince Charles is likely to be at least personally interested in this project, one has to wonder who will be chosen to submit the design and what will the design be like? Will the Royal Institute of British Architects reign supreme over this project and demand a modernist scheme? Will the nonsensical preservationist criteria of designing in a markedly different style (meaning exclusively modern) be trotted out?
Or will sanity be preserved and the design be classical/gothic and be more sympathetic to the historic church? Given the amount of vitriol and venom recently spewed in the direction of the Prince for his offering of an opinion on the Chelsea Barracks plan, one is likely to see the level of attack on classical architecture and Prince himself to reach a fevered pitch. If a classical scheme by Quinlan Terry is even part of the discussion, the charges of royal interference in the benighted practice of architecture (as if patrons don't have a choice), and how Prince Charles is singlehandedly trying to destroy architecture.
However I think HRH will yet again appeal to the common sense of beauty and tradition in the face of such barbs, and will yet again be backed not by the popularity of the architectural elite, but of his people. The Abbey has yet to unveil the designs for the corona, so there is still reason to hope that a classical design will be chosen, far better hope than we might have here in the US in a similar situation. The tide is changing in England, and as I've said before, it is in no small part due to the Prince's good opinion and taste for the traditional and classical beauty found still in Britain.
May 14, 2009
Preservationism Stands in the Way of Transit Options
by
Erik Bootsma
Preservationists on Chicago's South Side are calling for local officials to stop the demolition of a small building standing in the way of a planned Metra Commuter train stop because the building was designed by Mies van der Rohe.
This insignificant tiny bland box was designed by the German Modernist architect van der Rohe during his tenure as the architect of the Illinois Institute of Design and should be saved. According to one silly preservationist, this brutish little eyesore is akin to doodle by Rembrandt. One has to wonder when the hijacking of the preservation movement by ideologically driven modernists will come to an end and common sense will begin to prevail?
It seems to me that this building logically fails in almost all criteria that a building should have to mandate preservation.
1. The building is great - Lets face it, the building is like the Tribune says "a clunky brick box" only an idiot would think this building is intrinsically great.
2. The building is a significant example of its style - Go to any college campus in this country and you'll find a dozen of these miserable boxes cluttering up the landscape. As for an argument that it's the hand of a master, I doubt that Mies personally even drew the plans, like the Third Church of Christ Scientist, the architect didn't design this, his underlings probably did. If he personally laid the brick on this building maybe I could see it, but that isn't the case either.
3. The building is irreplaceable - Some buildings, like Penn Station were masterpieces that when they were torn down are lost forever. One could theoretically rebuild it, but the costs and the circumstances of today effectively render this impossible. This bunker could be built to the original plans in probably two or three days virtually anywhere, but what would the point be?
Some would claim that that would be "dishonest" but then I don't understand the obsession of modernist preservationists with "original materials." Architect drew the plans, the form is the important part, that's what makes it architecture, the hundreds of buildings reconstructed in Europe over the past 60 years after World War II are testament to this, they ARE great buildings, built to the designs of architects great and small, that they are new materials is irrelevant. One wonders if some sort of 60s new age thought got into preservationism? It's as if the stone and brick itself were somehow sacred by being arranged by the master, or the workers infused the brick with its zeitgeist of its particular time.
The real shame is that this miserable little junky building is standing in the way of real progress, a train station that will help revitalize the area. As the Tribune article says, hundreds of cars will be taken off the freeway adjacent to the school, and to stop genuine improvement for an ugly banal minor work by an architect that SOME people claim a master, is not simply stupid, it's the most irresponsible sort of architectural hubris imaginable.
This insignificant tiny bland box was designed by the German Modernist architect van der Rohe during his tenure as the architect of the Illinois Institute of Design and should be saved. According to one silly preservationist, this brutish little eyesore is akin to doodle by Rembrandt. One has to wonder when the hijacking of the preservation movement by ideologically driven modernists will come to an end and common sense will begin to prevail?
It seems to me that this building logically fails in almost all criteria that a building should have to mandate preservation.
1. The building is great - Lets face it, the building is like the Tribune says "a clunky brick box" only an idiot would think this building is intrinsically great.
2. The building is a significant example of its style - Go to any college campus in this country and you'll find a dozen of these miserable boxes cluttering up the landscape. As for an argument that it's the hand of a master, I doubt that Mies personally even drew the plans, like the Third Church of Christ Scientist, the architect didn't design this, his underlings probably did. If he personally laid the brick on this building maybe I could see it, but that isn't the case either.
3. The building is irreplaceable - Some buildings, like Penn Station were masterpieces that when they were torn down are lost forever. One could theoretically rebuild it, but the costs and the circumstances of today effectively render this impossible. This bunker could be built to the original plans in probably two or three days virtually anywhere, but what would the point be?
Some would claim that that would be "dishonest" but then I don't understand the obsession of modernist preservationists with "original materials." Architect drew the plans, the form is the important part, that's what makes it architecture, the hundreds of buildings reconstructed in Europe over the past 60 years after World War II are testament to this, they ARE great buildings, built to the designs of architects great and small, that they are new materials is irrelevant. One wonders if some sort of 60s new age thought got into preservationism? It's as if the stone and brick itself were somehow sacred by being arranged by the master, or the workers infused the brick with its zeitgeist of its particular time.
The real shame is that this miserable little junky building is standing in the way of real progress, a train station that will help revitalize the area. As the Tribune article says, hundreds of cars will be taken off the freeway adjacent to the school, and to stop genuine improvement for an ugly banal minor work by an architect that SOME people claim a master, is not simply stupid, it's the most irresponsible sort of architectural hubris imaginable.
April 22, 2009
A Comparision of Houses
by
Erik Bootsma
This last weekend, I took a pleasant spring day to explore some of the great architecture that is found in the Greater Washington Area. Just down the road in the southern part of Alexandria, amongst the sprawl that has grown about George Washington's plantation of Mt. Vernon, is the little known gem of Woodlawn.
Built for Major Lawrence Lewis and Nelly Custis, the adopted granddaughter of George Washington, the house is little known outside the area other than to architecture and history buffs. The house was built by William Thornton, the architect responsible for the original design for the Capitol of the United States. Finished in 1805, the house is a prime example of Georgian design in the United States, and in my opinion, one of the most beautiful houses in the DC area.
Now just down the hill, a more striking comparison is not likely to be found anywhere, with an icon of Modernism sitting nearby. One of Frank Lloyd Wright's "Usonian" homes, the Pope-Leighey house sits in a wooded glade, deigning to be equal claimant to the mantle of architecture. Built in 1939 in Falls church, the house moved to the plantation by the National Trust for Historic Preservation when in the 1960s highway construction threatened its destruction.
The contrast between these houses makes for an excellent lesson in the failures of modernism and the sucesses of traditional construction. Now some might argue that comparing a two hundred year old plantation manor to a seventy year old modest suburban house is unfair, but I'll take a shot. The details of each house show fairly well the widely different philosophies of their designers. Woodlawn shows an attention to and understanding of natural forces and how to deal with them. The Wright house shows how the modernist ignores the nature of his materials and forces in favor of a ideological design aesthetic. I think that despite their budgetary differences, the two houses are fairly emblematic of each designer and their architectural philosophy.
After all, many of the architectural details to be found in Woodlawn were commonly found in traditional houses built by architects well into the 1920s from manors on down to even the most modest bungalows. The principles that Wright exhibits in the Pope Leighey house are fairly consistent with the design mentality of his other houses as well, so I think the comparison is fair at the level of detail.
Woodlawn itself has had some bad times over the 200 years of its existence. The foundation stones are showing a bit of wear, the brick moulds have dried out a little bit, so the shutters have had to be removed, but all and all, for its age the house is in good shape. It was hit in 1896 by a hurricane, but I doubt much of the slate roof has had to be replaced, and the cornices look like they may have had a few coats of paint and maybe gotten replaced here and there. But the structure of the house looks to be intact. (I'm not exactly sure about the history, but I'm just guessing this based on inspection.)
The Pope Leighey house on the other hand looks haggard in comparison. The unpainted wood siding is starting to dry out and look rough. The "cornices of flat unpainted boards look to be literally falling apart. Other than the brickwork, which looks decent, and likely was rebuilt entirely when the house was moved in the 1960s, the house's exterior is in rough shape. One detail in particular as you'll see is striking. Frank Lloyd Wright's trademark cantilevered roofs, found here as anywhere, are failing.
Looking at this photo, you can see how the cantilever has sagged so far as to separate it from the wall it is next to. Elsewhere you can see how over time, the wood of these cantilevers has succumbed to the trials of time and begun to sag. When snow falls on this flat roof, and has no where to go, the stresses on this roof must be tremendous, and thus the roof begins to fail.
This one detail alone illustrates how the ideology of the cantilever, the flat roof is hardly a good thing. And this house was meant for the working class! (Wright however was never able to make his Usonian houses as cheaply as he promised.) Now all buildings need maintenance, but to unnecessarily compound problems of snow, water and wind are in this case not just stupid, but criminal. This is the sort of architecture that is being held up as the ideal. Thanks Frank. Thanks for giving us a house that after seventy years is falling apart.
I would be willing to bet any amount that per square foot, per year, the costs of maintenance for Frank Lloyd Wrights house are not only greater but likely outstrip the costs at Woodlawn by a fair stretch. I'd also wager that a house built contemporary to Wright, and of wood and of similar modest budget with traditional details is unlikely to be suffering such calamitous problems.
We do a tremendous disservice to our future generations by ignoring the very real problems with modern architecture and its inherent failings and unsustainability. When architects overlook them because of the ideology that everything must be new or innovative is a profound mendacity. Until we expose the falsehoods of the Modernists who say that their architecture is just as sustainable and good as traditional architecture, we will continue to have an intellectual and financial millstone tied about our necks.
Built for Major Lawrence Lewis and Nelly Custis, the adopted granddaughter of George Washington, the house is little known outside the area other than to architecture and history buffs. The house was built by William Thornton, the architect responsible for the original design for the Capitol of the United States. Finished in 1805, the house is a prime example of Georgian design in the United States, and in my opinion, one of the most beautiful houses in the DC area.
Now just down the hill, a more striking comparison is not likely to be found anywhere, with an icon of Modernism sitting nearby. One of Frank Lloyd Wright's "Usonian" homes, the Pope-Leighey house sits in a wooded glade, deigning to be equal claimant to the mantle of architecture. Built in 1939 in Falls church, the house moved to the plantation by the National Trust for Historic Preservation when in the 1960s highway construction threatened its destruction.
The contrast between these houses makes for an excellent lesson in the failures of modernism and the sucesses of traditional construction. Now some might argue that comparing a two hundred year old plantation manor to a seventy year old modest suburban house is unfair, but I'll take a shot. The details of each house show fairly well the widely different philosophies of their designers. Woodlawn shows an attention to and understanding of natural forces and how to deal with them. The Wright house shows how the modernist ignores the nature of his materials and forces in favor of a ideological design aesthetic. I think that despite their budgetary differences, the two houses are fairly emblematic of each designer and their architectural philosophy.
After all, many of the architectural details to be found in Woodlawn were commonly found in traditional houses built by architects well into the 1920s from manors on down to even the most modest bungalows. The principles that Wright exhibits in the Pope Leighey house are fairly consistent with the design mentality of his other houses as well, so I think the comparison is fair at the level of detail.
The Pope Leighey house on the other hand looks haggard in comparison. The unpainted wood siding is starting to dry out and look rough. The "cornices of flat unpainted boards look to be literally falling apart. Other than the brickwork, which looks decent, and likely was rebuilt entirely when the house was moved in the 1960s, the house's exterior is in rough shape. One detail in particular as you'll see is striking. Frank Lloyd Wright's trademark cantilevered roofs, found here as anywhere, are failing.
Looking at this photo, you can see how the cantilever has sagged so far as to separate it from the wall it is next to. Elsewhere you can see how over time, the wood of these cantilevers has succumbed to the trials of time and begun to sag. When snow falls on this flat roof, and has no where to go, the stresses on this roof must be tremendous, and thus the roof begins to fail.
This one detail alone illustrates how the ideology of the cantilever, the flat roof is hardly a good thing. And this house was meant for the working class! (Wright however was never able to make his Usonian houses as cheaply as he promised.) Now all buildings need maintenance, but to unnecessarily compound problems of snow, water and wind are in this case not just stupid, but criminal. This is the sort of architecture that is being held up as the ideal. Thanks Frank. Thanks for giving us a house that after seventy years is falling apart.
I would be willing to bet any amount that per square foot, per year, the costs of maintenance for Frank Lloyd Wrights house are not only greater but likely outstrip the costs at Woodlawn by a fair stretch. I'd also wager that a house built contemporary to Wright, and of wood and of similar modest budget with traditional details is unlikely to be suffering such calamitous problems.
We do a tremendous disservice to our future generations by ignoring the very real problems with modern architecture and its inherent failings and unsustainability. When architects overlook them because of the ideology that everything must be new or innovative is a profound mendacity. Until we expose the falsehoods of the Modernists who say that their architecture is just as sustainable and good as traditional architecture, we will continue to have an intellectual and financial millstone tied about our necks.
February 26, 2009
CFA Denies Inharmonious Addition to Library, Post Writer Denounces CFA
by
Erik Bootsma
Last week the US Commission of Fine Arts denied a plan by DC Public Libraries to add the above addition to its historic 1920's Mt. Pleasant branch. Marc Fisher of the Washington Post called the move "stomping on innovation and the faint whispers of home rule." Fisher couldn't be further from the mark, both in terms of architecture, but moreover why the CFA is justified as a Federal Commission to do such a thing.
First of all let me say before I get accused of politics, I don't intend to use this article as a springboard for ANY discussion about Home Rule, Statehood, or DC Voting rights. I only intend to respond to Fisher's and others' attacks on the CFA's authority as arbiter of architecture within the Capital independent of whatever political definition it has. I believe my arguments would stand (or fall) equally well for any Capital, be it DC or Berlin or Tokyo.
Fisher tries to net the CFA with the claim that it "serves mainly to prevent the city from evolving over time as any living place must." He says because the Library had three community meetings and "responded to neighbors' complaints" the CFA overstepped its bounds by denying the approval of this addition. Now these may be a fine and justified reasons in any normal city would respond merely to its own citizens. However, Washington DC has a special standard of aesthetics to uphold, by virtue of it being not just any ordinary city but our nation's Capital.
To see DC as "Our Nation's Capital," is to see it as not just for those who live there, but indeed everyone's home. Indeed the "neighbors" who need to be consulted are not just those who live nearby, but also those who live from Maryland, Virginia and indeed from sea to shining sea.
To understand DC as a home for the whole nation is to know it as a work of art, and as such has a symbolic end first and foremost. DC as a Capital ought to tell something to us about us, and it can do this by being more than just a collection of parts, but as one great piece of art in the form of its architecture and its urbanism. That architecture can tell a story, and like any story told anywhere in all of human history, needs to be whole, unified and cohesive to tell its story to us.
This is how L'Enfant saw the city, built apart from any of the already existing cities, a new work of art, symbolizing the new Nation formed by the Constitution. Indeed the city is itself the bond between the states, a seal of confirmation pressed in stone, stating that we were then and are now One Nation.
DC symbolizes this best where the McMillan Commission - the predecessor to the current CFA - did its finest work creating the Mall as we know it today. The Mall as the scene of all of our greatest aspirations and dreams as Americans is the great stage that politicians use to arouse our passions, that leaders of all kinds call to our patriotism to think of the common good of our whole nation.
But it could not do this without a unity of form that the McMillan Commission created. A unity of form that resonates in a particular way with the idea that here no one man or woman's interests are to be placed over the interests of the nation. Monuments are erected only to those who, rather than placing themselves above the people, gavethemselves for the greater good of all. The McMillan Commissions genius shows clearly where, despite monumental buildings and memorials being built, the dome of the Capitol - the Hall of the People - still dominates over all other monuments and buildings of the city, reinforcing that it is to the people all deference is to be given.
The symbolism of our Constitutional City is what the CFA is charged with defending. In DC the symbolism of the city ought to apply to every neighborhood, not just the core of the Federal area. The architecture of our nation's Capital ought be harmonious and beautiful, mixing with its immediate neighbors but also with the city as a whole. From the monumental core to the smallest street, DC ought to be a symbol of harmony and a well ordered city like it ought to be, even if it falls well short of those aspirations.
The CFA is right in rejecting this and other buildings like it because rather than being harmonious with a work of art that the city, they point to themselves and say "look at me!" Folks like Marc Fisher know that when they say designs like this are "striking and inviting mix of old and new" and want architects to "push the decrepit system into a new era," they are pushing their own agenda, not the ordered harmony of L'Enfant and the McMillan Commission but disharmony and discord.
This addition proposed is not something that defers to the city and its order, but it rather pushes itself as "innovation" and "evolution." It is, frankly neither innovative or an evolution, but rather another bland glass box calling attention to itself like so many others. The architects of this building are like a mischevious trumpeter in the midst of a symphony who begins to play his own tune, trying to focus the the attention of on himself, rather than on creating together a work of true beauty.
First of all let me say before I get accused of politics, I don't intend to use this article as a springboard for ANY discussion about Home Rule, Statehood, or DC Voting rights. I only intend to respond to Fisher's and others' attacks on the CFA's authority as arbiter of architecture within the Capital independent of whatever political definition it has. I believe my arguments would stand (or fall) equally well for any Capital, be it DC or Berlin or Tokyo.
Fisher tries to net the CFA with the claim that it "serves mainly to prevent the city from evolving over time as any living place must." He says because the Library had three community meetings and "responded to neighbors' complaints" the CFA overstepped its bounds by denying the approval of this addition. Now these may be a fine and justified reasons in any normal city would respond merely to its own citizens. However, Washington DC has a special standard of aesthetics to uphold, by virtue of it being not just any ordinary city but our nation's Capital.
To see DC as "Our Nation's Capital," is to see it as not just for those who live there, but indeed everyone's home. Indeed the "neighbors" who need to be consulted are not just those who live nearby, but also those who live from Maryland, Virginia and indeed from sea to shining sea.
To understand DC as a home for the whole nation is to know it as a work of art, and as such has a symbolic end first and foremost. DC as a Capital ought to tell something to us about us, and it can do this by being more than just a collection of parts, but as one great piece of art in the form of its architecture and its urbanism. That architecture can tell a story, and like any story told anywhere in all of human history, needs to be whole, unified and cohesive to tell its story to us.
This is how L'Enfant saw the city, built apart from any of the already existing cities, a new work of art, symbolizing the new Nation formed by the Constitution. Indeed the city is itself the bond between the states, a seal of confirmation pressed in stone, stating that we were then and are now One Nation.
DC symbolizes this best where the McMillan Commission - the predecessor to the current CFA - did its finest work creating the Mall as we know it today. The Mall as the scene of all of our greatest aspirations and dreams as Americans is the great stage that politicians use to arouse our passions, that leaders of all kinds call to our patriotism to think of the common good of our whole nation.
But it could not do this without a unity of form that the McMillan Commission created. A unity of form that resonates in a particular way with the idea that here no one man or woman's interests are to be placed over the interests of the nation. Monuments are erected only to those who, rather than placing themselves above the people, gavethemselves for the greater good of all. The McMillan Commissions genius shows clearly where, despite monumental buildings and memorials being built, the dome of the Capitol - the Hall of the People - still dominates over all other monuments and buildings of the city, reinforcing that it is to the people all deference is to be given.
The symbolism of our Constitutional City is what the CFA is charged with defending. In DC the symbolism of the city ought to apply to every neighborhood, not just the core of the Federal area. The architecture of our nation's Capital ought be harmonious and beautiful, mixing with its immediate neighbors but also with the city as a whole. From the monumental core to the smallest street, DC ought to be a symbol of harmony and a well ordered city like it ought to be, even if it falls well short of those aspirations.
The CFA is right in rejecting this and other buildings like it because rather than being harmonious with a work of art that the city, they point to themselves and say "look at me!" Folks like Marc Fisher know that when they say designs like this are "striking and inviting mix of old and new" and want architects to "push the decrepit system into a new era," they are pushing their own agenda, not the ordered harmony of L'Enfant and the McMillan Commission but disharmony and discord.
This addition proposed is not something that defers to the city and its order, but it rather pushes itself as "innovation" and "evolution." It is, frankly neither innovative or an evolution, but rather another bland glass box calling attention to itself like so many others. The architects of this building are like a mischevious trumpeter in the midst of a symphony who begins to play his own tune, trying to focus the the attention of on himself, rather than on creating together a work of true beauty.
November 27, 2008
ND Architecture School's redesign for DC's Carnegie Library
by
Erik Bootsma
Great work here by fellow Notre Dame School of Architecture students for the Carnegie Library in DC. The library has fallen into disuse and last fall, with the help of the National Civic Art Society, graduate students at ND came up with several great ideas for returning the library to its intended use with additions that are designed to HARMONIZE with the existing building.
November 20, 2008
AIA Discusses Historic Significance of Modern Buildings.
by
Erik Bootsma
This has been a dominant line of argument of late in the Historic Preservation movement, that "significant" buildings are worthy of preservation. However the confusion of "significance" for value does a tremendous disservice to the state of architecture in the world. After all what is "significant" is not always good, certainly Smallpox is a "significant" thing, but I seriously doubt that anyone would consider it a "good" thing.
A building can be significant in three ways:
1. A moment of history occurred there.
2. The building is an example of a style or movement or an architect's work.
3. The building is great as a building and a part of a larger environ, either rural or urban.
The first two ways of being significant are the most common ways that preservationists argue for the inclusion of modern buildings. These ways clearly are completely extrinsic to the building itself, so then the question of the building's intrinsic value is then apparently moot, or so it would seem.
The problem is that the building is a work of art created for a specific purpose. A building is made as a office building or school or church. A building also has to stand up to the elements and finally, a building as a work of fine art, has to move us to something greater, something that tells us about what it is to be human. (more will be discussed about this as time goes along)
A building must possess all three of these things : (as Vitruvius said: Utilitas, firmitas et venustas) These three things, brought together, lift a building to the realm of Architecture. In my opinion though, venustas (beauty) really is the spark that enervates a dead pile of brick and stone to architecture, but more on that later on.
However we live in a day that these things are really lacking in a LOT of buildings and in a lot of buildings that the critics call the great architecture of our day. There are a lot of buildings however, like smallpox, are so bad that they are the opposite of architecture. These are, seemingly without exception, the buildings foisted upon the world in the past century of the Modernist experiment. These are the buildings that are "significant!"
Now I'll allow, that there are SOME circumstances that allow for a bad building to be preserved for historic reasons. But I think those reasons need to be a lot more significant than "LBJ slept here one night." A hotel where MLK was killed or the Berlin Wall come to mind. These places have such a tremendous historic significance that the place rises above mere encyclopedic record, but it tells us something about being human, which is of course what art should do intrinsically. Here the lesson is extrinsic but somehow overwhelms an intrinsically bad architecture.
But the Berlin Wall, though a historic artifact did such incredible violence to the city that prudence practically requires us to tear it down. Document it, preserve it in memory and in archives, but don't sacrifice the city and our human endeavors to it. We need to have this sort of reason in dealing with the detritus of Modernism. Realizing it may be significant as in terms of a mistake, we should document it and tear them down.
This too goes for the second reason listed above. The significance of a particular work of architecture by a "famous" architect is even more removed from the intrinsic value of a building than its history. The IM Pei Third Church of Christ Scientist is the best example. The building is a failure on almost every level of Vitruvian goodness, but because it was made by "the great Pei" it should be preserved. So what? Because the building was built by a somewhat famous architect the owners and the rest of the city has to suffer an incredibly bad building?
A building's worth should be judged FIRST by its intrinsic worth. Does it work as a building, keeping out the wind and rain and keeping people comfortable? Does it stand up to time, or do we have to spend twice the initial cost every ten years keeping it up? Does it work as architecture, does it inspire us to something higher than the mundane and tell us about ourselves?
Or does it simply serve to stroke the egos of so many architecture critics who know better than the educated rabble?
A building can be significant in three ways:
1. A moment of history occurred there.
2. The building is an example of a style or movement or an architect's work.
3. The building is great as a building and a part of a larger environ, either rural or urban.
The first two ways of being significant are the most common ways that preservationists argue for the inclusion of modern buildings. These ways clearly are completely extrinsic to the building itself, so then the question of the building's intrinsic value is then apparently moot, or so it would seem.
The problem is that the building is a work of art created for a specific purpose. A building is made as a office building or school or church. A building also has to stand up to the elements and finally, a building as a work of fine art, has to move us to something greater, something that tells us about what it is to be human. (more will be discussed about this as time goes along)
A building must possess all three of these things : (as Vitruvius said: Utilitas, firmitas et venustas) These three things, brought together, lift a building to the realm of Architecture. In my opinion though, venustas (beauty) really is the spark that enervates a dead pile of brick and stone to architecture, but more on that later on.
However we live in a day that these things are really lacking in a LOT of buildings and in a lot of buildings that the critics call the great architecture of our day. There are a lot of buildings however, like smallpox, are so bad that they are the opposite of architecture. These are, seemingly without exception, the buildings foisted upon the world in the past century of the Modernist experiment. These are the buildings that are "significant!"
Now I'll allow, that there are SOME circumstances that allow for a bad building to be preserved for historic reasons. But I think those reasons need to be a lot more significant than "LBJ slept here one night." A hotel where MLK was killed or the Berlin Wall come to mind. These places have such a tremendous historic significance that the place rises above mere encyclopedic record, but it tells us something about being human, which is of course what art should do intrinsically. Here the lesson is extrinsic but somehow overwhelms an intrinsically bad architecture.
But the Berlin Wall, though a historic artifact did such incredible violence to the city that prudence practically requires us to tear it down. Document it, preserve it in memory and in archives, but don't sacrifice the city and our human endeavors to it. We need to have this sort of reason in dealing with the detritus of Modernism. Realizing it may be significant as in terms of a mistake, we should document it and tear them down.
This too goes for the second reason listed above. The significance of a particular work of architecture by a "famous" architect is even more removed from the intrinsic value of a building than its history. The IM Pei Third Church of Christ Scientist is the best example. The building is a failure on almost every level of Vitruvian goodness, but because it was made by "the great Pei" it should be preserved. So what? Because the building was built by a somewhat famous architect the owners and the rest of the city has to suffer an incredibly bad building?
A building's worth should be judged FIRST by its intrinsic worth. Does it work as a building, keeping out the wind and rain and keeping people comfortable? Does it stand up to time, or do we have to spend twice the initial cost every ten years keeping it up? Does it work as architecture, does it inspire us to something higher than the mundane and tell us about ourselves?
Or does it simply serve to stroke the egos of so many architecture critics who know better than the educated rabble?
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