Showing posts with label modernism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label modernism. Show all posts

Thursday, April 22, 2010

Rethinking the Office Park

For my Contemporary Architecture class this semester, every two weeks I write a response to our readings and the topics in class.  I've found the assignments interesting, so I'm sharing my writings with you.

Every Monday, Wednesday, and Thursday afternoons, en route to Boston’s North Station via the Commuter Rail, I pass by a most dreadfully soulless corporate office park in Cambridge.  I wonder who ever decided to call some unadorned brick, concrete and glass structures surrounded by a sea of asphalt in the middle of no place distinctive a “park.”  A new T station opened in the 1980s and some companies decided to plop a few mid-rise buildings nearby with little attention to context, the human scale, or any measure of livability.  Unfortunately this is the postmodern architecture, in all its blandness and lack of social consciousness.  Recently a high-end condominium developer has constructed a dense complex called CambridgePark (what else?), but why would anyone want to live there?  Sure, you have access to the T, but only if you’re willing to walk past the monster of a parking garage across the street.  The reading in our first two weeks of class that interested me the most was "Architecture and Politics in the Reagan Era: From Postmodernism to Deconstructivism" by Mary McLeod for explaining this architecture. 

The link between the politics of the Reagan presidency and the postmodern architecture of the time makes a great deal of sense.  The office buildings at CambridgePark have no social vision and aspire to no universal social order other than the 9-to-5 workday of the professional.  The McLeod reading points out the spike in commercial property completions in the early eighties, enabled by the deregulation of business in America by Reagan.  At the same time, the modernist desire to provide housing for the poor waned, with fewer apartments built under the Section 8 low-income housing program each year from 1982-87.  The change in values from social aims to material aims is architecturally evident at CambridgePark as well.  Across the Alewife Brook Parkway are the Rindge Towers—high-rise public housing buildings constructed in typical modernist tower-in-a-park fashion.  Today buildings like these are plagued with rodents and roaches, but they stand for a noble aim of housing those less fortunate in a decent building with plenty of sunlight and space outdoors.   

In the Eighties, architecture was used by corporations for grabbing attention.  The office buildings of CambridgePark, while bland now, were probably considered quite slick in their day, with glass atriums and alternating horizontal bands of glass and stucco, brick, or concrete.  Companies that lacked the capital to build skyscrapers downtown could construct a larger building with an abundance of parking outside the city.  The Reagan administration, preferring a limited government approach in virtually all matters, lacked a policy to strengthen America’s cities, so the suburbs prospered.  Although the two main buildings at CambridgePark were constructed in 1985 and ’86, they lack the decoration that refers to traditional American architecture and characterizes much postmodern architecture, as also stated by Diane Ghirardo in Architecture After Modernism. 

I believe that this discrepancy points to a transitionary period in the 1980s into which many buildings like the CambridgePark offices exhibit the negative qualities of both modernism and postmodernism.   From modernism they take the poor urban contextualization, anonymous appearance, and lack of regional characteristics in design.  From postmodernism they take the lack of social aspiration, materialist corporatism, and meaninglessness.  While AT&T could afford to hire Philip Johnson to design his famous Chippendale-topped skyscraper for New York, most corporations could not afford such bold postmodern statements.  The result was a boring mix of modernism and postmodernism.  However, poststructrualism is creeping into the area around this corporate office “park.”  Today it’s not so sure about its identity as a single-use commercial zone.  With the new condominiums next door you can live right next to work and not miles away—so sometimes it’s a residential neighborhood.  The Alewife Bike Path connects the T station to neighboring communities, and it’s in the process of expansion—so sometimes it’s an active recreation park.  These modern-postmodern straddling buildings may soon become much more unsure about their identities and drift into the realm of the confused postmodern.

Sunday, December 20, 2009

Disposable Architecture

This post is part of a series on the blog InnermostParts.org called 'Building Blunders of Brandeis.' It addresses the physical aspects of the Brandeis campus, specifically the history and the current state of Brandeis University architecture and planning.

One of society's ongoing problems is what to do with old buildings.  Do we demolish them and build something new?  Do we renovate and re-purpose them?  If they're particularly special, we might even restore them to their original state.  Brandeis is no more immune to this problem than any city or town.  In fact, college campuses may feel the pressures to demolish old buildings stronger than any other communities.  Colleges depend on large donors to renew their facilities, and large donors want their names on fashionable new buildings.

Demolition of the Friedland Life Science Building
Demolition of the Friedland Life Science Building
For several weeks now, crews have been working at demolishing the Friedland Life Science building and the Kalman Pre-Medical Building.  To my best knowledge, no one has made a fuss.  I'm not a science student, but I've visited both of these buildings.  Friedland was actually pretty quirky and interesting, with large white panels covering much of the exterior and short windows at the top of each floor, creating glass divisions between its five stories.  I believe it was designed by firm of Shepley, Bulfinch, Richardson, and Abbott, which had some very famous founders.

Friedland Life Science Building. Architects: Shepley, Bulfinch, Richardson & Abbott. Built 1956-58.
Friedland Life Science Building. Architects: Shepley, Bulfinch, Richardson & Abbott. Built 1956-58.
Should we really treat buildings such as Friedland as disposable?  I don't think so.  Sure, they're not very much in style today, but someday we may come to regret losing them.  Harvard's now-loved Memorial Hall once faced the wrecking ball because 50-or-so years late it had fallen out of style.  Sure, Friedland isn't so grand, nor was it probably constructed so well, but it's so... well, modern.  It was of the era of the Space Race, and in my opinion it showed it.
Friedland isn't the only building with a funky, modern style.  Goldman-Schwartz?  East?  Spingold?  Schwartz and Brown?  All of these buildings have been deeply neglected over the years.  Under the right conditions, any of these buildings could receive its death sentence.  At Brandeis, we take the attitude that after a building goes up, it's okay to leave it to decay forever.  I urge Brandeis to treat its buildings with greater respect.
If you need reinforcement for what our '50s and '60s-era buildings could look like, visit the lobby of Gryzmish across from the campus center.  Without  daily wear from students, the interior has stayed fairly well preserved.  Really, take a look.  Once the examples of that style are destroyed, they will never come back in quite the same form.


Winter Sun Sets Over Friedland
Winter Sun Sets Over Friedland