""He prefers the "red brick" of the Nafe Katter Theater and the Benton Museum addition to "phallic, fecal, Nazi or crucifix designs" that he free-associates with the Gehry building."" Have a good one. | update: read comment for copy of initial editorial that inspired this reaction
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Here is the editorial Mills is reacting to, divide into three sections. The last line makes me nauseous: "The Land of Steady Habits". I hate that Yankee crap.
Red Brick UConn Campus No Place For Metal Monstrosity
By ROBERT THORSON
Twisted metal. That's what I think of the cookie-cutter steel monstrosity being designed for UConn's School of Fine Arts by renowned architect Frank Gehry.
I've been grousing privately about his cosmic design for several years. But three recent experiences finally pushed me over the tipping point to speak out publicly.
The first was the publication party for a new book commemorating the 125th anniversary of the University of Connecticut. Distinguished history Professor Bruce Stave and his research team have produced a weighty, yet highly readable history of UConn during the last five or six generations of students. His title - "Red Brick in the Land of Steady Habits" - captures the earthy visual aesthetic of the state's flagship campus and the conservative cultural milieu in which the institution grew.
The second experience was reading a special annual issue of U.S. News & World Report titled "America's Best Leaders: How These Unique Men and Women are Changing the World." The lead article, titled "The Man With the Most Unusual Lines," was about UConn's architect of choice, Mr. Gehry. It summarizes his phenomenal success with phrases such as "maverick ... unorthodox design ... soaring steel surfaces ... non-traditional shapes and surfaces ... an icon ... 150-person design firm." Only near the end did the profile become more critical: "showy, self-indulgent and egotistical." One critic, commenting on the same design over and over, remarked: "Same Gehry, different city."
The third experience was hearing a rumor that the Gehry project has been temporarily put on hold, stalled for lack of money. Apparently, the campaign for private contributions raised only a fraction of what was needed. Even I was targeted for this fund-raising appeal, receiving a solicitation from the dean of the School of Fine Arts. My response was to immediately write him a note suggesting that his school can this tin-can project, then design one more respectful of the wooded rural ambience of Storrs. After carrying my note around for a few days, however, I tossed it in the trash, believing that post facto criticism would constitute whining on my part.
But imagine my joy of joys when I learned that the project was stalled. This news rekindled my hope that the Storrs skyline along its main thoroughfare might never be dominated by a mountain-sized assemblage of twisted metal.
I have absolutely no credentials as an architect, even fewer as a "fine" artist. But I do have an enormous personal stake in the project. If built, Storrs' version of tin can alley will be a daily assault on my vision system, perhaps even precipitating my move out of the Storrs neighborhood where my wife and I raised our family.
I'm not a hidebound conservative. In fact, I'm an enthusiastic supporter of the Storrs Center project, which is now being built to create a pedestrian-friendly village atmosphere between the campus and what is now an unplanned, de-facto micro-downtown. I especially like the project's architectural plans, a beautiful compromise between traditional elements of New England visual culture and a more trendy look. Similar compromises were recently reached on opposite ends of UConn, first for South Campus dormitories, then later for its prize-winning chemistry building. The facade of choice for all three projects - Storrs Center, South Campus, and the chemistry building - was red brick. Ditto for practically every large public building in Mansfield, notably town hall.
I'm not anti-Gehry. In fact, I like his ultra-modern, curvy style in places like Spain's Bilbao, and Los Angeles. There, they're embedded in otherwise bleak urban landscapes dominated by concrete, asphalt and rectilinear shapes.
I'm not anti-steel. But despite global warming, Storrs will remain a climate with some ice and snow each winter. Hence, I wonder how Gehry's smooth, friction-free surfaces will behave after a New England ice storm? Will they become ski jumps or parasail launchers for slabs of ice hurtling toward an unsuspecting administrator?
If I'm not anti-change, anti-Gehry and anti-steel, then what, precisely, am I against? I'm against the victory of artistic freedom over public sensibility. I do not believe that the School of Fine Arts has the right to insert a melange of twisted metal into the rural scenery of a staid New England town, especially one where town-gown relations are often strained. My concern isn't about eminent domain. It's about the unavoidable conflict between the artist's goal of arousing emotion and society's goal of keeping itself glued happily together.
It's also about the wisdom of choosing a design for its celebrity allure, rather than for its architectural fit.
I'm quite progressive on the subject of artistic freedom when it comes to controlled spaces such as galleries, theaters, books and films, regardless of how weird or sinful the content may strike some. But I'm quite conservative when it comes to public architecture, especially when the building draws attention to itself at the expense of the human community. Phallic, fecal, Nazi or crucifix designs would clearly not be acceptable for an American public building. Bland designs would clearly be acceptable, though they are often boring. So where does one draw the line between artistic arousal and public acceptance?
In this case, I suggest the line be drawn to exclude the arrogant artistic statement being proposed by Frank Gehry. We don't need to join Gehry's cult following to put Storrs on the arts-and-culture map. The red brick additions to the Thomas Benton Museum and Nafe Katter Theater, and the old red-brick standby, Harriet Jorgensen Auditorium, have done that already.
My sincerest hope is that Gehry's goes away, that a more appropriate design is chosen by a balanced town-gown constituency, and that the School of Fine Arts gets the magnificent new space it deserves in the Land of Steady Habits.
Robert Thorson is a professor of geology at the University of Connecticut and a member of the Place Board of Contributors.
thanks!
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