You may have heard that several blocks of land around the Metrodome have been sold to Zygi Wilf. (Note to people who don’t follow sports: a cat did not cross the keyboard; that’s an actual name.) Most of the blocks are parking lots, and if some wondrous urban village replaces the blank expanse of asphalt, fine. But before we rip up today to build tomorrow, consider the past. Consider what we lose. This, friends, is one of the architectural jewels that might be sacrificed to “progress.”

I know what you’re thinking: you don’t want to live in a world where such things aren’t valued. After all we’ve lost in Minneapolis – the Metropolitan Building, Radio City – it’s hard to go through another wrenching loss. I saw that building go up, and was amazed by its blunt, uncomplicated honesty. Just look at the way the building meets the sky:

Unlike the skyscrapers that end in filigrees and spires, as though they seek to unravel at the point they meet the sky, this building says Here I End, and it almost taunts the sky with its uncompromising terminus. Then there’s the masterful handing of the southeast side:

Some buildings might use a gargoyle, or a column, or some other tired historical pastiche to give the eye cheap joy; this building simply says No. Like all great modern art, it refuses to give you the experience you expect, and turns the wall into both a historical contemplation (one cannot help but think of the Egyptians, who also used lots of bricks) and a detailed, personal testament to the men who built this structure. Each of these bricks was laid by hand; looking at this wall, one cannot help but wonder who they were, how they lived, and whether they thought the architect had lost the real plans for the building and sent along a picture of a packing crate, then left for Argentina until it all blew over.
In any case, the building is now in danger, and I fear it will not see its fourth decade. As the New York Times opined on the destruction of Penn Station: our era will be known for the landmarks it destroys as well as the ones it builds. I’d like to think it could be incorporated into a new project, just to add some historical context. We must remember that people thought things like this were beautiful, once. Otherwise they might never build such a stunning thing again.
Heaven forbid.


love it. thanks
love it. thanks