My formative years, and perhaps those responsbile for my bad attitude, were spent in the south. A roommate in the early years was a fella, though not southern, who took to the spirit of redneck chivalry rather adroitly. Eschewing architecture for preservation, mostly because he had a hankering — and talent — for woodworking, he bought a pickup and befriended more locals than students.
He spent afternoons driving around, a ritual that included lots of whistling at southern belles. He was the charming sort who could get away with backing up an entire block to smile at a stranger, fully expecting acknowledgment. Like any roué, failure or success did not deter. One day he called out enthusiastically at a woman who I wouldn’t normally characterize as a recipient of such attentions. Pointing this out, he replied with the rationalization, “Like my grandpappy always said: ‘Sometime you gottta whistle at the ugly ones!’”.
That comment is the essence of the limits of preservation, particularly to designers. Last week, the AIA celebrated Architecture Week by thumbing its nose at the segment of the preservation community one might called blue-haired, hosting Brad Cloepfil, who didn’t mince words, telling everyone that 2 Columbus Circle was a one of the ugly ones, and he wasn’t willing to turn his head even an inch to acknowledge it. Rick Bell gave him big props, reiterating the position of the local AIA (and insuring Bob Stern won’t be writing any checks any time soon) that there is no merit to continuing any preservation hearings on its behalf.
Thanks to the dimwitted critical skills championed by our preznit, we have become a culture of strident myopia, so this, like the discussion (a termed used very charitably) about the WTC site, this one has devolved into one either being against design quality in favor of blind historicism, or an example of screaming hypocrisy on the part of architects who demand preservation of questionable buildings and then turn a blind eye the minute an opportunity arises.
Though I’m clearly partisan, the reason this debate continues at all has to do with the poorly articulated vision of preservation — or its outright misrepresentation — by the Landmarks West! people, who are persisting, even in the face of eight lawsuits. The ever present cudgel of Penn Station is raised over the shoulders by every group or person that finds some corner of their world is about to be changed without adequate consult. Every stick, crack in the sidewalk, or dying shrub becomes a potential Penn Station. Save it all!
People like old buildings. I do. And when you only have, say, ten of them from 400 years ago, you probably should try and keep them around. But most people tend to lose their stridency when the find out preservation often means they can’t pick a paint color, or put a sun porch out back. They will like it even less if they find out that it means that have to keep things like Westin Times Square around, well, indefinitely.
Good preservation is inherently, like any good design practice, an exercise in taste making. Our strange obsession with a charade of meritocracy and egalitarianism, which seems not to infect areas where physical dexterity or other outward skills are required, empowers people who — let’s put this delicately — shouldn’t be asked to match a shirt and tie in the morning, be on equal footing with someone who has spent years thinking about what a building or a business card should look like. Someone has to say, “well, this isn’t actually that nice.”
Plenty of people have so far, though their skills at doing so, and their diplomacy, have varied. Everyone has learned to keep Holly Hotchner under wraps. Cloepfil is more measured, calling it a “’moment in style,’ but not a pivotal work”. That framing underscores the bifurcation in the preservation mind, which rankles at the notion that something as capricious as a human mind can make a gradation of value about objects, instead of kowtowing to the implacable truth of Mother Time, but nonetheless is just fine with telling people that a size of brick is ‘out of character’.
Though it has been rightfully pointed simply because a building has been neglected is no justification for demolition, at least without a hearing, except this building has had one. And it was neglected in the middle of Manhattan, 30 years after the sea change of Penn Station, for years. MAD took the site expecting to be able to make significant changes, and this has been known for years. The commission acted. Hearing were held, rulings made. It’s time pack up and go home, Landmarks West!
UPDATE: I know it seems like well-planned synergy, but isn’t: turns out I was painting the AIA as tad more strident (I cast my irresponsbility in the direction of the good folks at the Observer, who aren’t afraid to mince words) than they want to be. In fact, they are sponsoring a roundtable today (Columbus Day, for anyone who has missed the point) on this very topic, with speakers to include: Vishaan Chakrabarti, AIA, Vice President at The Related Properties; Thomas Mellins, author and architectural historian, Christopher Nolan, Vice President for Capital Projects at the Central Park Conservancy and Phillip Pittruzello, Vice President for Corporate Real Estate at Time-Warner. They welcome the Landmarks West! folks, as well as anyone else wanting to particpate (go ask Phil why the most expensive mall in the world is so damn bland!) in a conversation about the past, present and future of Columbus Circle. 6PM at the Center.
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Brad Cloepfil is going to start the demo with a sledge engraved with ‘Santa Maria’.
My formative years, and perhaps those responsbile for my bad attitude, were spent in the south. A roommate in the early years was a fella, though not southern, who took to the spirit of redneck chivalry rather adroitly. Eschewing architecture for preservation, mostly because he had a hankering — and talent — for woodworking, he bought a pickup and befriended more locals than students.
He spent afternoons driving around, a ritual that included lots of whistling at southern belles. He was the charming sort who could get away with backing up an entire block to smile at a stranger, fully expecting acknowledgment. Like any roué, failure or success did not deter. One day he called out enthusiastically at a woman who I wouldn’t normally characterize as a recipient of such attentions. Pointing this out, he replied with the rationalization, “Like my grandpappy always said: ‘Sometime you gottta whistle at the ugly ones!’”. That comment is the essence of the limits of preservation, particularly to designers. Last week, the AIA celebrated Architecture Week by thumbing its nose at the segment of the preservation community one might called blue-haired, hosting Brad Cloepfil, who didn’t mince words, telling everyone that 2 Columbus Circle was a one of the ugly ones, and he wasn’t willing to turn his head even an inch to acknowledge it. Rick Bell gave him big props, reiterating the position of the local AIA (and insuring Bob Stern won’t be writing any checks any time soon) that there is no merit to continuing any preservation hearings on its behalf. Thanks to the dimwitted critical skills championed by our preznit, we have become a culture of strident myopia, so this, like the discussion (a termed used very charitably) about the WTC site, this one has devolved into one either being against design quality in favor of blind historicism, or an example of screaming hypocrisy on the part of architects who demand preservation of questionable buildings and then turn a blind eye the minute an opportunity arises. Though I’m clearly partisan, the reason this debate continues at all has to do with the poorly articulated vision of preservation — or its outright misrepresentation — by the Landmarks West! people, who are persisting, even in the face of eight lawsuits. The ever present cudgel of Penn Station is raised over the shoulders by every group or person that finds some corner of their world is about to be changed without adequate consult. Every stick, crack in the sidewalk, or dying shrub becomes a potential Penn Station. Save it all! People like old buildings. I do. And when you only have, say, ten of them from 400 years ago, you probably should try and keep them around. But most people tend to lose their stridency when the find out preservation often means they can’t pick a paint color, or put a sun porch out back. They will like it even less if they find out that it means that have to keep things like Westin Times Square around, well, indefinitely. Good preservation is inherently, like any good design practice, an exercise in taste making. Our strange obsession with a charade of meritocracy and egalitarianism, which seems not to infect areas where physical dexterity or other outward skills are required, empowers people who — let’s put this delicately — shouldn’t be asked to match a shirt and tie in the morning, be on equal footing with someone who has spent years thinking about what a building or a business card should look like. Someone has to say, “well, this isn’t actually that nice.” Plenty of people have so far, though their skills at doing so, and their diplomacy, have varied. Everyone has learned to keep Holly Hotchner under wraps. Cloepfil is more measured, calling it a “’moment in style,’ but not a pivotal work”. That framing underscores the bifurcation in the preservation mind, which rankles at the notion that something as capricious as a human mind can make a gradation of value about objects, instead of kowtowing to the implacable truth of Mother Time, but nonetheless is just fine with telling people that a size of brick is ‘out of character’. Though it has been rightfully pointed simply because a building has been neglected is no justification for demolition, at least without a hearing, except this building has had one. And it was neglected in the middle of Manhattan, 30 years after the sea change of Penn Station, for years. MAD took the site expecting to be able to make significant changes, and this has been known for years. The commission acted. Hearing were held, rulings made. It’s time pack up and go home, Landmarks West! UPDATE: I know it seems like well-planned synergy, but isn’t: turns out I was painting the AIA as tad more strident (I cast my irresponsbility in the direction of the good folks at the Observer, who aren’t afraid to mince words) than they want to be. In fact, they are sponsoring a roundtable today (Columbus Day, for anyone who has missed the point) on this very topic, with speakers to include: Vishaan Chakrabarti, AIA, Vice President at The Related Properties; Thomas Mellins, author and architectural historian, Christopher Nolan, Vice President for Capital Projects at the Central Park Conservancy and Phillip Pittruzello, Vice President for Corporate Real Estate at Time-Warner. They welcome the Landmarks West! folks, as well as anyone else wanting to particpate (go ask Phil why the most expensive mall in the world is so damn bland!) in a conversation about the past, present and future of Columbus Circle. 6PM at the Center.