Architectural cover up

I learned this weekend that my father finally has a closing date for a building in downtown Grand Island, Nebraska. He’s been looking for a couple of years now. His original idea was to find a place with room for an apartment upstairs and store frontage downstairs. I mentioned his interest in downtown real estate in an August post as well (The building mentioned in that post, which he made an offer on, didn’t pan out.).

Without rehashing the myriad of details he considered while looking for a commercial property, I present to you the structure he finally has a contract on — the elegant building in the middle of the picture:

Amenities include marble stairways to the second floor from the street and alley, a bonafied civic shelter comprising 2/3rds of the basement (complete with thirty empty water barrels) and rental income totaling $900 per month. It seems his patience paid off as he found a building slightly under his budget. The drawback is that the store frontage is being used by one of the renters — who have three years left on their lease — so he will have to peddle his antiques from the second floor for the time being.

This post isn’t so much about this one building though as it is about the ruination of once stately downtowns in American communities. Compare the above photograph to the following historical photo of the original bank building:

The original facade is presently obscured by modern renovations allowing for two street level entries. These economy grade renovations seem to pay no attention to the well-crafted, elegant pilasters and cornice they so haphazardly obscure. The same goes for so many buildings in the area. Look in the first picture at the wild green building to the right of my father’s [future] property, and compare it to the same building in the second photo.

Ugh.

My complaint here is not so much a distinction between modern and more classically influenced architecture as it is a distinction between quality of craft and design. The modern overlays on these buildings look cheap, cheap in the sense of it’s not going to last. They also exhibit poor form in not paying respect to their surroundings. The bright green steel and glass structure seems to completely ignore the materials and colors around it, looking like a flakey marketing gimmick nestled among more serious contenders. One of the things that was made very clear during the two years I studied architecture in college was the importance of the plot. My professor went so far as to suggest we take our sleeping bags to the vacant lot assigned to us and spend the night there.

The modern iterations and modifications also seem to, largely, lack attention to detail. Sure, modern architecture is generally spare — indeed, often cold — in comparison to classical, but it doesn’t have to look like a shoebox with cutouts for doors and windows.

I’d like to help my dad take that stark tin awning off of his little building someday, and I hope the former glory of these buildings is still intact under their present clothing.