I never cease to be amazed by how humane high modernist architecture often was. All the interior photos in the article are daylit, even the stairwell. I always have to remind myself not to misread such buildings based on all the poor quality knockoffs driven by the speculative development model.
Bell Labs is not just another glass box in the burbs because Saarinan was not just another bullshitting architect.
I've never considered myself to have a particularly special eye for architecture and design, but that doesn't mean I'm incapable of recognizing good design when I see it (subjectively, of course).
When I looked at these picture, I made most of the same observations that you made, but I think I made them subconsciously without "appreciating" them to their fullest extent.
I went back and looked at the pictures again after reading your comment, and some subtle details in the pictures were much more apparent and pleasing to me.
Thanks for helping me realize my daily lesson (i.e., notice and appreciate the small things more often)!
Chris Alexander is the feel good source for software design patterns and architectural design. But in the end there's something to be said for functional design in programming and in architecture.[1]
If people sit in their office, they don't talk. Putting common spaces along the glass curtain wall also democratizes access to light.
Finally, from a practical standpoint, the first thing people who spent all day in front of a CRT tended to do in a daylit office was draw the blinds and turn down the lights to reduce glare.
[1] What makes Alexander useful in architecture is that a great deal of architectural function is related to habitation and architectural patterns double back on themselves in terms of users whereas software design patterns tend to be focused on the programmer's pleasures.
An odd thing about Alexander's work on pattern languages is that, despite people's enthusiasm, Alexander himself considered it to be a failure. There's a chapter in Richard Gabriel's "Patterns of Software" (http://dreamsongs.org/Files/PatternsOfSoftware.pdf) that has an interesting discussion on this.
Alexander considered his work prior to A Pattern Language to be a failure. Notes on the Synthesis of Form was largely his Phd work from Harvard, and his self-criticism was that the process was too formal.
My personal opinion is that it better corresponds to current software architectural practice because whereas A Pattern Language is entirely focused on habitability for end users, both current software architectural practice and Notes on the Synthesis of Form emphasize habitability for the architect/programmer - e.g. three tiered systems make the job of the programmer easier, they don't necessarily improve user experience, but light on two sides does.
Read Alexander's foreword to that book. He considers his earlier work to be a failure. In the sense that design patterns didn't work to allow people to make living buildings. However he seems to be very satisfied with his new Nature of Order series.
None of the offices in Holmdel had windows either. The article only had pictures of the large atrium and the hallways. Technical Staff had 10x12 winodow-less "office" shared by two people. You can shut the door to work but when more than 3 people want to have a meeting it felt cramped.
I sent both the page and this discussion to my architect student sister and this was her reply:
"You know, I would love for some people who say “bullshitting architects” to design a building. It’s hard to do. Super hard. You need to think about lighting, space, circulation, code, envelope, foundation, zoning, materials and material restrictions, HVAC and electrical, construction timelines, COST, fire exits, structure just to make ANY building. And you have to think of it all at once. And each of those things has many many possible choices available and every choice you make affects every other choice. And all of those choices contribute to the “design.”
Now imagine that you are just a normal human being going to work and you’ve got some shit at home, or you are kind of tired or sick, and then make all the best architectural choices for all of those things. And do it on a timeline and sell it to a client who, more often than not, is just the person who is going to rent out the building, so the entire purpose of the structure is to make money for a client who is therefore, not going to be super into spending a lot of extra $ on design time to make it streamlined, beautiful and functional.
I would say 90% of the time it’s not the bullshit that makes a bad building, it’s circumstance that makes your design goals bullshit. But you can’t say that, because it’s your job to deal with all that crap. Which is super hard to do."
I told her I loved her comment and was going to post it, and then she sent an additional message (after she had become a bit less annoyed):
"I do, to some extent understand the criticism… or at least, I have some personal criticism. Because the thing with architecture is that it is, to some extent, all within the public realm. Everyone HAS to look at it. Most people have to occupy it. The decisions that architects and clients make dictate what takes up space in your world – visual space at the very least, and in some cases those decisions will actually force you to alter your behavior every single day. So I get it, but instead of calling out “design” as the issue, take steps to alter your world in a way that is meaningful.
Attend public forums on zoning meetings, learn how to do graffiti and make ugly walls beautiful, buy your own buildings and participate in the design process, plant more flowers, sponsor public art, etc. etc. Some architecture firms have open-forum presentations on their upcoming projects where the public is welcome and criticism and ideas are discussed, but the only people I have ever seen in attendance are other architects (and students) and while they all want our cities to be more functional and visually pleasing they probably have a different perspective than some people (which naturally comes from being in on all of those zoning and permit discussions, and having your livelihood depend on the oft-volatile construction industry.)
In conclusion, cool it, dudes. And “be the change..” or something like that."
I thought it was fascinating to read what could have basically been a developer complaining about the rigors of developing software for clients or bad managers, but instead it was an someone talking about what goes into building a structure. And it was refreshing to get a bit of outside perspective and break some of that "programmer's myopia" I find myself succumbing to from time to time.
I have noticed this type of thinking in a lot of different contexts. If you play a video game and it has a female character portrayed in a sexist manner, you say "damn developers". If you have to work in a building that has no windows you say "damn architect". If you get screwed by a retail business you yell at the schmo behind the register making minimum wage.
We don't like to think about systems, we like to think about what jerks other people are.
I think about the practice of architecture and it's systems all the time. It's a commoditized service, that doesn't scale because it's ultimately based on labor intensive piecework.
A set of architectural plans for a project that won't be built has no value. A set of architectural plans for a building that will be built has exactly the value of the fee for their preparation. There's little opportunity for reuse, and what reuse occurs tends not to add value for the client.
To compare it to software, imagine if the first code sent to the compiler was what was shipped as final product. Construction is unit and integration and usability test.
Thus the architect has three tools for selling their services: legal requirements, expertise, and bullshitting. The legal requirements create a level playing field and most architects have adequate expertise for most projects. That leaves bullshitting as an important differentiator - even more so for those willing to treat the regulatory playing field less seriously - and the seriousness of the regulatory playing field is why architects are licensed in the US.
Erio Saraann wasn't a "bullshitting architect" because he at least as good as he presented himself (same for Rudolph).
That's all true, but in the end the architect is responsible for much of the bad design. There's no one better positioned to "be the change" when it comes to architecture than...architects.
I don't think there are many (if any) fields that affect people more thoroughly on a daily basis. Of course there's pressure to do take the path of least resistance. You know that going into the field. The responsibility, though, is to overcome it whenever possible.
It's not like software is any different. There's tons of pressure to just get by. It's our responsibility as developers to go beyond that whenever possible.
as an architect - its not possible. its not even like software where if you want to put the time in you can create something "over and above" the brief which is better for users. in buildings improving the "UX" (so to say) will take up limited (and expensive) space, add additional material and construction time and hence cost. you can make small wins but the vast majority of crappy spaces are because the developer will simply make more money that way. the real problem imo is market failure - buyers and leasers of space don't understand their own spatial needs or good outcomes so end up buying something spatially poor because its cheaper.
there is no easy solution. architects can try but generally don't have contact with the market. that is all done through estate agents who are about selling now and don't care whether anything works out long term for their clients.
'"You know, I would love for some people who say “bullshitting architects” to design a building."'
In 1989 it was the age of LISP machines and I went to Vocational School to study architectural drafting in order to get my hands on AutoCad in order to get my hands on AutoLISP. Whereas a couple of years earlier a certificate could land a person a job doing CAD making about as much as a typical March or Barch graduate earns today [without adjusting for inflation], I had the distinct good fortune to complete my certificate in 1991 when construction was on the downswing cycle due to the changes to passive loss taxation and the S&L crisis. Sure real estate was changing hands - from bankrupt thrifts to the Resolution Land Trust.
I pounded the pavement daily. I walked into VOA with my resume and the receptionist fetched the manager and the manager simply told me they had let eleven people go the previous week. No pretending, he handed my resume back to me without reading it, never mind a "I'll keep it on file." That was pretty typical.
One afternoon though, I walked into a small office with my roll of drawings. The architect came out of the back with a big grin and said, "We need the work." That was pretty much the low point.
Eventually, through the grapevine I landed a job in the engineering department of a precast plant. My first task was drawing up manufacturing drawings for double tees. The project was a new prison - this was the start of that boom. $7.35 and hour and unpaid overtime. During the time I was there, construction cratered, I moved to payroll as the pipeline dried up, happy to have a job. I got to handle the layoffs in the summer of 1992 when the last big project came out of the pipeline and the plant went from 112 employees to 19 in about three weeks. One day the brother of one the laid off workers came in to pickup COBRA paperwork. There'd been a heart-attack. He hadn't had the money to extend his company provided benefit.
The job market got better and I moved on, and in 1996 I negotiated a deal to purchase equity in a new firm started by two former coworkers [both licensed architects]. As that evolved, by the late 90's I was back in school pursuing an MArch and ultimately licensure. With impeccable timing, I graduated into the construction slump job market following 9/11 - wife, child and mortgage already in place.
Let your sister know that I've been in this business for more than 20 years. I designed buildings and owned a piece of an architecture firm before I experienced the architecture school experience, but I've done that too. I've been through IDP and taken the ARE and shuffled paper for an NCARB certificate and completed CEU's and written contracts. All things she can look forward to in a few years if she has the bottle.
Along the way, I've worked for directly as an employee for a developer. I've worked for a Fortune 100 homebuilder. I've worked in large offices. And small offices. And for myself. I've chased projects against firms who have already won them, been lied to by clients, disagreed with the decisions of building and zoning and planning officials - however since I've also worked as a municipal planner and a building plans examiner, I am more sympathetic to their plight than is typical in the privileged profession.
I have been involved in the design of more than a few buildings. I've put my seal on the plans for some of them, and consequently my ass on the line.
So when I say "bullshitting architects" I have particular insight into the phrase because I have worked for and with and as one of them for nearly a quarter century.
As an extreme example, what many have in mind for the term are the "mental health" offices located in Boston and Las Vegas, where the former is in the "Brutalism" style (harsh imposing structure with broad sweeping staircases leading nowhere), and the latter is by Frank Gehry (whose buildings look like they were heated unto melting and then dropped from a great height) - both seemingly chosen to create patients instead of cure them.
I think a "bullshitting architect" would be someone who concentrates on making the appearance of the building fit fashions, while neglecting lighting, space, circulation, etc. (maybe not code). In other words, it's someone who isn't really an architect at all.
I'm a fan of Saarinen's work on the Arch, and I know that great things were accomplished in this building, but it seems to me to indulge in the worst excesses of the International Style. Awe is a nice emotion to experience occasionally, but it eventually becomes oppressive. The "stacks" motif here evokes nothing so much as an early 20th-century prison. We don't see any of the actual office space here, but I expect it's entirely the same cramped warrens I've suffered in other buildings of this style. It's not surprising that the merged company decided to sell this building.
What a beautiful example of the international style of architecture. Unfortunately, the internal layout seems rigidly adapted for office use. I'm not sure how they'll adapt a five-story office building to mall use without gutting the place. Maybe they'll do some sort of hybrid and convert the first two floors to a mall layout, knocking out walls and putting up glass storefronts, preserving the top three floors for office space.
Fun fact: The architect who designed this building also designed the Gateway Arch in St Louis and the iconic Tulip Chair.
These architectural connections are fun. Another interesting St. Louis one: the guy who designed the World Trade Center towers also designed the most notorious public housing project in the U.S. [0]
There are so many cool building in the States that just get abandoned. I hope they find a anchor tenant and save this place. It reminds me of the Sterick Building in Memphis, not architecturally but I just feel sad to see a beautiful place go to waste.
I've been there. It was beautifully designed and perfectly suited to its job as headquarters for a telecom monopoly. With everything good and bad that implies. It's sad to see it fall into the hands of suburban mall developers.
The alternative is to knock it down and build something banal. At least the developers are trying to preserve it and preserving this type of building is really really tough. It's not a house, and it wasn't built with hand tools.
These buildings are vast. Every $1 per square foot of renovation is a lot of money. It is further complicated because the historic features tend to include long since discontinued manufactured items. Often these components were custom designed because the products were cutting edge, needed in large quantities, and the client's were such as to see the benefit and to afford them [e.g. Pyrex tubes at Wright's Johnson Building and the ceiling tiles in Bunshaft's Cigna Hedquarters].
Finally preservation is tough because these buildings were designed at a time when energy was cheap. Van der Rohe' Segram Building ran all the lights all night for architectural effect. All that glass which allows daylight in also creates a greenhouse. Technology can mitigate some of the effect but until we get a thermostat on the sun, the physics will remain the same.
Developers come in all stripes. Any neighborhood or district you love and enjoy was built by one [or more]. Sure, they might be lying scumbags and just paying lip service as a precursor to a Power Center in a sea of asphalt. But probably not.
That this developer is trying to preserve the building means that they are valuing history and aesthetics over the bottom line. They may not be successful. They may walk away. But to me, it sounds like they are instead dreaming unreasonable dreams, and that's the fabric of amazing places.
Actually, it wasn't the headquarters of AT&T and not even the headquarters of Bell Labs (a part of AT&T). The headquarters of Bell Labs was at another massive (though less beautiful) complex in Murray Hill, NJ
I always preferred Murry Hill to Holmdel. I found the architecture more interesting, and the copper roof to provide continuity in the history of the Labs.
I consulted for Bell Labs as my first job out of grad school, and spent a year (1990-1991) working in this building. I always loved the environment, especially the library and dining area in the atrium. Sad to see it all vacant.
The Burroughs-Wellcome building in RTP is another Modernist design under threat of being significantly changed by a new owner. It was featured in the 1980's movie "Brainstorm", starring Natalie Wood and Christopher Walken.
The building plan is kind of neat, but the carpet has got to be a little sketch by now. Better to go with marble, wood, brick or tile floors for the main thoroughfares.
I worked for Rudolph in New York and can say without hesitation that he was very passionate about design and human perception of the spaces he designed.
His Sarasota School works are amazing. Amazing enough that they are the only American "architectural school". The way in which he was able to translate that same understanding of human habitation into massive buildings is a remarkable feat.
It hit me when I visited the Massachusetts State Building in Boston - his corduroy concrete's ribs are sized to the human grasp and hit us in our subconscious in a way that makes the scale at which we experience the building change.
You've hit on the key point: human scale. Although Rudolph was quite good at human scale in his buildings unlike so many current architects, the absolute master of human scale in architecture was Frank Lloyd Wright.
Interesting, I just watched brainstorm and noted how interesting all of the locations were architecturally. There seemed to be a real sense when making the movie that the locations should look futuristic and interesting.
I recall another telecom building (owned by AT&T, formerly Ameritech, formerly Illinois Bell) that was designed with resale in mind. It was set up for an easy conversion to a mall, in case they had to sell it.
I'll never understand how it makes good economic sense to keep buildings barren. Somebody is paying carrying costs for this thing and extracting zero value.
Losing money on property is a great way to make money. There are all sorts of tax schemes that let big real estate developers pool and distribute losses to offset taxes in profitable investments.
Often times, the exits for forlorn property make a bunch of money for the people speculating on them as well.
One idea, at the scale of large companies, a single building isn't really that big of a deal. Most medium size and even smallish-large companies have empty offices, empty floors and more. I can think of half a dozen companies I've been to in the last few years with whole floors in their buildings that sat unused. At a large scale there's no reason an entire building wouldn't sit idle. It only seems weird because this building has obviously sat this way for a long time.
Look at it this way, suppose they decided to lease the space to another tenant - say for 5 years. Market forces could change a year after the lease is signed and they'd suddenly need the building again. But now they don't have the space anymore and need to get yet another building.
The merger happened in 2006, the same year that the building closed and was sold. Wikipedia says [1] that the closure was a result of post-merger R&D restructuring.
:( Now there is a building I wish was sitting abandoned, instead of being torn down and the space not used. I put it up there with the destruction of Penn Station and the Chicago Stock Exchange as one of the greatest losses of American architecture.
Bell Labs is not just another glass box in the burbs because Saarinan was not just another bullshitting architect.