I've lived in Portland for seven months now. In that short span of time, I have seen so many preservation fights between the city and local organizations that I could write an entire book of case studies. So far, I have felt unwilling to speak out publicly on any of the issues, because I still have so much to learn about the city. However, I do know that Portland is not unique. Many cities have the same problem, struggling to balance preservation and progress. I, for one, see the two going hand in hand -- newer isn't always better, or greener, or more beautiful (well, unless it is). For the sake of argument, I'll leave beauty out of this equation, because really, it's not relevant. One person's U.S. Armory might be another person's Memorial Coliseum; and the two might never agree. My point is that there needs to be an evaluation process that takes place before battles begin over hurried demolition permits. We need to include historic resources as part of statistics on job creation, and environmental effects, and potential revenue -- not as a barrier.
The latest fight is over the Memorial Coliseum at Rose Quarter here in Portland. The building was designed by Skidmore, Owings and Merrill and completed in 1960 as a memorial to veterans and an arena for cultural opportunities for the Portland community. It's one of the oldest sections of the Rose Quarter and has been home to numerous Portland sports teams since its completion -- a lot of Portlanders have a soft spot in their hearts for the coliseum because it's part of their history. For my "George Washington Slept Here" preservationist friends, the Beatles played a concert there on their 1965 tour.
There is a lot of talk about how Coliseum is in extreme disrepair and the bulldozer and wrecking ball are the best option (in the name of job creation). In full disclosure, I bristle up whenever I hear about plans for expansion of sports facilities. Why? Because, in my opinion, the city rarely wins. I'd like to think that Portland is different than, say, the District of Columbia that was so starved for recognition and enamored by bright shiny objects, the city officials pretty bent over backwards when Major League Baseball waltzed into town. However, Mayor Adams' massive, hurried development plan makes me pause and wonder why? The plan doesn't seem in step with the sustainable growth ideals that have made Portland such a spectacular place to live.
Modernism is part of our collective history (both good and bad), just as the Coliseum is part of Portland's. Not only is Memorial Coliseum notable for it's cultural significance to the city, but also for it's architecture. It is a unique example of arena construction during this era and has clearly stood the test of time. The building's transparency gives hints to the activity going on inside, unlike many sports or cultural venues that tend to be massive and imposing on the landscape. One of my favorite local architecture blogs, Portland Architecture, describes this it best, "the Rose Garden across the street, dark and lifeless without a game inside, seemed like a boulder to the Coliseum's diamond." It's hard to argue with backing from the National Trust for Historic Preservation, the American Institute of Architects, and numerous local preservation and planning organizations in favor of preserving this city landmark. What exactly is the City Council thinking? Unfortunately they seem to have fallen victim to the fact that their eyes may be bigger than their stomachs.
Will Portland be able to stomach the outcome of these new plans? Or will "retiring" Memorial Coliseum provide just another case study for future urban planners and historians on how not to build a great city? We need to slow down and carefully think about the impact of losing some of Portland's great historic resources -- the Memorial Coliseum is not the only issue here, it is just one point on a long list of things that have been taking place in recent months. I truly hope that the Mayor and City Council are swayed in the next couple days as they make their final decision. Regardless of the turnout on this particular issue, the Coliseum should serve as a wake-up call for all Portlanders. We need to respect and understand our history (which, ahem, includes modernism) in order to thoughtfully and successfully strengthen our city's future growth.
I have not yet had a chance to go out and photograph the building myself, so I borrowed photos from a local Portland photographer. For more stunning shots, check out his blog: Blue Ruin.
The Dash bus is only a quarter, but was worth at least a dollar for the ride. It whisked me out of the touristy Hollywood district to West Hollywood where the Schindler house awaited my arrival.
I was the only one visiting that day (I guess it's not on the popular LA circuit) and I got to spend a good deal of time absorbing the house and grounds. Unfortunately, it's not furnished and there's an art installation at the moment that flips through old slides that are projected on the wall. Even after reading the artist's mission, I still didn't quite get it. However, the house was pretty interesting and I could totally see why this is considered one of Schindler's finest buildings.
It's a modest house and is built into the landscape that is surrounded by high-rise apartment buildings and the rather large homes (compounds) in West Hollywood. I never would have found it if there hadn't been a sign leading me down an ambiguous alley to the welcome center. The house was designed in 1922 as a communal studio space where Schindler and his wife lived with another professional couple. At the time, Schindler was working for Frank Lloyd Wright on the Barnsdall (Hollyhock) House, which is also in LA.
I think one of the things that stunned me the most was how Schindler (and Wright for that matter) was totally on the fringe of the architectural movements at the time. This was probably a huge factor in why many of his designs were just too experimental to get a lot of recognition. I mean, seeing a house like this being built in America in the 1920s must have had the neighbors whispering. The contrast of redwood and concrete punctured by windows was really quite stunning. The windows filled the space (that was arguably quite stark) with a warm light that felt almost cozy -- only in LA right? It made the wheels in my head turn and realized that this is quite possibly modern architecture at its best. 
Anyway, I spent almost an hour just walking around the house and taking in the beautiful views and nooks around every corner. I soaked in a little LA sun from the rooftop of the house that was accessed by a set of narrow stairs. I'm so happy that I found the property and had as much time as I wanted to take in its greatness.
I totally dorked out for the rest of the afternoon and walked up and down the streets of West Hollywood gazing at all of the amazing apartments and houses tucked behind giant hedges and walls. I'm glad I was alone, because I'd never get away with this much neighborhood gazing otherwise.
However, my dork-filled afternoon was not yet over. Inspired by Schindler's design for his own house, I felt it was my duty to head over to the Hollyhock house, which was largely supervised (and a number of details completed) by Schindler himself. It's only proper that the Hollyhock house get it's own post, so don't miss out on:
Los Angeles: The Land of Fabulous Buildings (Act One, Scene Three).
I arrived in Los Angeles on Thursday evening and Sharon picked me up at the airport. We made dinner (a semi-successful attempt at calzones, which was more Trader Joe's dough's fault rather than our own). After chatting for hours we were both pooped and went to bed.
I woke up Friday morning and planned my attack. While Sharon was at work, I felt that I needed to make the most my day. I had never been to Los Angeles before and knew only one thing about the city: Hollywood. Naturally, I wanted to go there. And I did. And it was a total bummer. I'll be perfectly honest with you, Hollywood Blvd (in the touristy spots) kind of sucks. I spent about 3 minutes in front of Mann's Chinese theater (which actually looks like it could use a good paint job) before deciding that I needed to find another spot to spend the afternoon. The area was swamped with people walking with cameras pointed down at the sidewalk trying to take pictures of their favorite actors' Hollywood stars. It was annoying when they would run right into me with their heads and act like I had done something wrong by having the audacity to stand on Meryl Streep.
Also, I could only take a small dose of the struggling actors/actresses dressed up as characters trying lure unsuspecting tourists to pay for photo rights. An exceptionally short person dressed as Chucky decided that I was his next target and started chopping me with his plastic knife. He followed me around the courtyard of Mann's theater grunting (while fake stabbing me between the shoulder blades) until I finally told him to go away. I was seriously ready to deck him if he didn't knock it off. The photo is a little blurry because I was taking it from quite a distance trying to be covert (I'm thinking my spy skills could use some work).
Afterward, I walked around for another hour, feeling sort of lost and letdown -- up Hollywood and down Sunset Blvd, wondering, "where the hell are all the famous people?" Then I realized that the best parts of the area are located on the side streets and paths where the tourists don't care to traipse.
I was more excited by this fabulous US Post Office than finding the Brittney Spears Star.
I stopped for an emergency M&M's break and took in the beautiful view of the Blessed Sacrament Catholic Church on Sunset Blvd.
I ogled the New Deal-era bas relief at Hollywood High. Maybe I'd be a star too if my High School looked like this.
While trying to figure out what to do next, I stumbled on what seemed to be a staging area for all of the actors and actresses who swarm the Hollywood Walk of Fame. I saw a guy putting on his Barney costume, Darth Vader without his helmet, and a half-dressed man who might have been going for the Cheetos Cat look. It was time to get the heck out of there. I hopped on the Dash bus and headed to West Hollywood to my second planned destination, the Rudolph Schindler House.
Stay tuned for Los Angeles: The Land of Fabulous Buildings (Act One, Scene Two)
Jesse had a job interview in Seattle, WA on Wednesday, so we decided to drive up together since neither of us had ever been. The interview was weird (and rescheduled to meet almost 2 hours early), which left us both sort of scratching our heads when it was all over. Anyway, since we weren't supposed to have very much time in the city after the interview, I didn't bother researching cool things to see -- my mistake.Jesse finished up around 1:30pm and we didn't really have any plans until dinner time when we were meeting up with his good friend, Allicia. We decided to drive around a bit to see if we would stumble on anything fun. We found Pike Place Market and walked listlessly around ogling the giant fish and great-smelling food. We also drove by the space needle, but decided not to get out and walk around. That morning I dressed for Portland weather (rainy and chilly), but Seattle was at least 10 degrees colder and I was freezing. After stopping for coffee and a snack, we regrouped and decided to drive down closer to Allicia's house, which is near Tacoma, WA. 
Then, as we were driving out of the city we saw the new Seattle Public Library. Jesse parked the car on a crazy hill and we took a quick walk-through (or rather a jaw-dropping roam). The library was designed by Rem Koolhaas and opened in 2004. It is probably one of the more stunning public spaces that I have seen in a while. Even on the rather grey day, people were bustling around and lounging in the many areas for reading, surfing the internet, and just relaxing. 
Every level is a new experience -- varied flooring, colors and textures -- that is punctuated by the steel and glass skin. Each corner provided a new vista of the city. The vast interior space was definitely designed to feel comfortable on the human scale with nooks and reading areas tucked away in the stacks and along corridors invisible from the ground floor, but it was also meant to be appreciated from multiple viewpoints and levels. 
I'm not sure if the neon yellow escalators with the weirdo eyeball art installation will withstand the test of time, but travelling from one horizontal space to another was quite exciting. I somehow managed to not take a photograph, but the freestanding escalators took on a sculptural form that was quite nice. The glowing yellow encasement also provided a view of the inner workings, which was kind of cool too. 
Even though I tired easily of the yellow transportation tubes, I have to say that the use of color and supergraphics (both inside and outside) provided a certain softness in what could have been a very mechanical and cold structure. In sum, awesome building. After touring the museum for almost an hour we decided to leave Seattle (for real) and head down to Tacoma. We arrived in Tacoma around 4pm, took a scenic drive to Point Defiance Park, and wished that we had come straight to Tacoma after the interview. I was sad that we didn't have time to take in the Museum of Glass, or the Washington State History Museum, or the Tacoma Art Museum. Dinner with Allicia was great and I'm so glad we stayed around so I could finally meet her. Needless to say, we'll be back to Washington, probably sooner than later, because there's so much to see and do!
I was at a site visit yesterday for a potential job and it went pretty well. I came home totally excited and typed out a scope of work to send off to the architecture firm right away. We discussed the plan over the phone, agreed on a rate, and I think things should be in motion by Friday. Of course there are tons of approvals, so the work might not begin for a couple of weeks. By the time I finished with the proposal it was 4pm and the hour when we start to think about dinner. Working from home, or as I call it, our "alternative work schedule," has turned us into old people. Dinner is usually on the table no later than 5pm. Yesterday was no exception, but we needed a few things at the grocery store. So, we hopped on our bikes and rode out to Safeway downtown. Of course, large trips in the future will be reserved for the car, but we were able to get everything we needed for dinner last night as well as fresh veggies for the rest of the week.
The veggies fit perfectly in the front basket of my bike. However, I found out that the basket not only looks clunky (with that giant mount on the front) it is also not really useful for anything except lettuce (or maybe flowers). We stored our bike locks in the bottom for the ride home and the weight made the handlebars really hard to control. I think this weekend I'm going to remove the whole thing and search for a basket or bags that will fit on the back rack so I can transport more practical things -- like a full load of groceries.
I have to say that I am pleased that we have taken advantage of the really nice weather over the past couple of weeks and ridden our bikes to a lot of places where we would have normally driven. This weekend we rode out to SE Hawthorne Blvd. to Pastaworks for pancetta and fresh pasta. They seriously have some of the nicest-looking meats I have seen in a while. The pancetta is far superior to any I have ever tasted (it contributed to a kick-ass pasta carbonara).
This week I'm feeling the crunch. In just a few days (4 to be exact), I will make a call to a firm in Portland that indicated some interest in my resume last month. It was one of those situations where a friend of a friend knew someone who worked at this place, and somehow my resume landed on the right desk. So here I am, planning every day as though my next phone call or email might be "the one." Its hard living in a way that requires you to be noncommittal to any occasion that is further in the future than 30 days from yesterday.
I've been holding my cards pretty close at work, since we really have no clue when we're actually going to leave. The D.C. Modernism survey (a.k.a. my albatross) is nearing its final stages. The office gets weekly calls from people inquiring when the draft will be released to the public. My shoulders tense up just thinking about it. In a matter of a few months, people will be salivating over the work that I have prepared over the past 3 years. OK, maybe there won't be a stampede, but oh god! The pressure! Professionals will actually use my survey as a future reference - a benchmark for evaluating modern architecture in the post-WWII period. What was I thinking? I certainly can't be qualified to be a benchmark for anything!
Self doubt aside, the strict deadline I have imposed on myself is the most stressful thing of all. As with any project, the last things left to complete are the most grueling tasks. They are the ones that I have been avoiding, all while knowing that someday I would just have to (as Jesse would say) sack up. Well, that day is here and I am hating life. Footnotes, formatting, and little research tasks make my day drag on and on. However, I can't (no, won't) leave D.C. without having finished what I started. At the same time, I feel as though I can't stay in D.C. another minute.
So, in honor of my misery, I declare Thursday "Love My Modern Architecture Day." Tomorrow, I will furiously fill in the gaps between highways and the Metro, solve the time lapse between Gropius and Hartman-Cox, and become an architectural history machine. Wish me luck, but please, only send over the pure and functional vibes. I don't want my mojo muddled with that Postmodernist garbage.
The latest fight is over the Memorial Coliseum at Rose Quarter here in Portland. The building was designed by Skidmore, Owings and Merrill and completed in 1960 as a memorial to veterans and an arena for cultural opportunities for the Portland community. It's one of the oldest sections of the Rose Quarter and has been home to numerous Portland sports teams since its completion -- a lot of Portlanders have a soft spot in their hearts for the coliseum because it's part of their history. For my "George Washington Slept Here" preservationist friends, the Beatles played a concert there on their 1965 tour.
There is a lot of talk about how Coliseum is in extreme disrepair and the bulldozer and wrecking ball are the best option (in the name of job creation). In full disclosure, I bristle up whenever I hear about plans for expansion of sports facilities. Why? Because, in my opinion, the city rarely wins. I'd like to think that Portland is different than, say, the District of Columbia that was so starved for recognition and enamored by bright shiny objects, the city officials pretty bent over backwards when Major League Baseball waltzed into town. However, Mayor Adams' massive, hurried development plan makes me pause and wonder why? The plan doesn't seem in step with the sustainable growth ideals that have made Portland such a spectacular place to live.
Modernism is part of our collective history (both good and bad), just as the Coliseum is part of Portland's. Not only is Memorial Coliseum notable for it's cultural significance to the city, but also for it's architecture. It is a unique example of arena construction during this era and has clearly stood the test of time. The building's transparency gives hints to the activity going on inside, unlike many sports or cultural venues that tend to be massive and imposing on the landscape. One of my favorite local architecture blogs, Portland Architecture, describes this it best, "the Rose Garden across the street, dark and lifeless without a game inside, seemed like a boulder to the Coliseum's diamond." It's hard to argue with backing from the National Trust for Historic Preservation, the American Institute of Architects, and numerous local preservation and planning organizations in favor of preserving this city landmark. What exactly is the City Council thinking? Unfortunately they seem to have fallen victim to the fact that their eyes may be bigger than their stomachs.
Will Portland be able to stomach the outcome of these new plans? Or will "retiring" Memorial Coliseum provide just another case study for future urban planners and historians on how not to build a great city? We need to slow down and carefully think about the impact of losing some of Portland's great historic resources -- the Memorial Coliseum is not the only issue here, it is just one point on a long list of things that have been taking place in recent months. I truly hope that the Mayor and City Council are swayed in the next couple days as they make their final decision. Regardless of the turnout on this particular issue, the Coliseum should serve as a wake-up call for all Portlanders. We need to respect and understand our history (which, ahem, includes modernism) in order to thoughtfully and successfully strengthen our city's future growth.
