|
||||
|
|
Related Links |
||
|
So what's the deal with the big, dumb white box atop 55 E. Erie? Why did they top off this new, rather elegant building with a 50-foot-high bunker? It's not because
55 E. Erie is a cheap building. Developed by a consortium that includes
Walsh Construction and
Development Management Group, Inc., it's a $197,000,000 condominium tower
with prices starting at over $600,000 for a one-bedroom and ramping up
to $4,000,000-plus for the swankiest penthouse. It's not because it was carelessly designed. The architects are Linda Searl, who's vice-chair of the Chicago Plan Commission, and Fujikawa Johnson & Associates, whose works include the Chicago Mercantile Exchange and the Fairmont Hotel. The architects have
taken steps to distinguish 55 E. Erie from trailer-park The concrete building is horizontally scored and painted white-a welcome relief from the shear slab and mud-hut brown that seem to be the current standard. “Some of the other buildings that are going up in the vicinity and in the city have been getting dark,” says Johnson, “and it's very, very institutional, not necessarily residential in character.” A gracious ground-level arcade stretches along Erie for the full block between Wabash and Rush, providing sheltered views of the late-19th-century Nickerson mansion and the oversize columns of the John B. Murphy Memorial Auditorium across the street. The auditorium is owned by the American College of Surgeons, and 55 E. Erie marks the site of its former headquarters, a ten-story poured-concrete building designed in the early 60s by Skidmore Owings & Merrill. “Oh, it was beautiful, one of the most beautiful Skidmore buildings,” says Johnson. “It had onyx walls on the ground floor that were just magnificent in bronze frames. This is what I call high Skidmore design for a client that obviously had more money than God.” The lesson of its loss has yet to take hold. Just a block away, another graceful modernist building-the five-story Episcopal Church Center behind Saint James Cathedral, with its airy public plaza, is about to be demolished for a massive 65-story tower. The Manhattanization of what condo marketers are calling Mansion Row rolls relentlessly on. As
for 55 E. Erie, for up to 56 floors it could be said to be
a model citizen. “That is not the original design,” Johnson says. “Originally, there were some open columns and beams ...like flying buttresses. That was deemed to be, literally, very, very difficult, and expensive to build, as well. We simplified it a great deal.” Adds architect Moises Cordovi, Executive Vice-president at Development Management Group, “The city has criteria when you design a high-rise. You conduct what is called a wind-tunnel test to determine the effect of the weight of the building and the sway - how much it goes back and forth. The initial design was designed so it worked. The city wanted a different method of calculation and it provided different kind of results. Based on that criteria, it was determined that the only way to make this work was to lighten the top of the building to eliminate the sway. It's not a question of safety; it's a question of comfort.” The buttresses were eliminated, and the mechanical penthouse left bare. Johnson contends that you can't really see the oppressive blockiness of the penthouse from the street, but it's readily visible as part of the skyline. That's no small issue: the skyline is one of Chicago's great public amenities. It's also an iconic image that's shorthand for the idea of “Chicago” all over the world-possibly the most potent branding device we have. Diminish the icon, diminish the brand. Some builders seem completely indifferent to their obligation to that skyline. The hammerhead ugliness of a tower like the Park Millennium, at 222 N. Columbus, reflects a developer barnacling off of Chicago's architectural vibrancy even as he poisons it with every new structure he builds. Fortunately, most architects are a lot more conscientious. You may not respond to Lucien LaGrange's more retro-classical designs, but you have to acknowledge that he recognizes the role his towers like the Park Hyatt, at 800 N. Michigan, and the Pinnacle (under construction at 21 E. Huron) play in the city's skyline -he takes care in topping them off. And if you can't be good, at least be amusing. Critics revile the sloping, split-diamond roof of the Stone Container Building at Randolph and Michigan and the cheesy beacon at the top of 311 S. Wacker, but the public loves them -and they've got the right idea. Chicago's skyline is a snapshot of our ambitions. The aspiration and effort behind its elements, even when failed or in contested taste, reveal the city's rich, varied character. When asked how she sees the role of architects of tall buildings in preserving the city's skyline, Searl answers, “I think it's very important. I'm as disappointed as you are we don't have the original design, but lots of things go into those issues. I hope that we will do something wonderful to the top” Cordovi talks of creating “some articulation that extends the architecture of the main portion of the tower.” In all probability, that articulation will be restricted to panels applied to the exterior walls of the mechanical penthouse, similar, explains Searl, “to the way the building is sort of panelized vertically.” Asked if the developers are committed, in effort and money, to do what it takes to remedy 55 E. Erie's barren box, Cordovi responds, “Right now we're looking at options. We have not committed ourselves to anything yet, because we're looking at product (deciding) what we want to do. Realistically, whatever we do there, it will not be completed until spring.” Mark your calendar.
© Copyright 2003-2004 Lynn Becker All rights reserved.
|
What's
Wrong With This Picture?