We need to fight harder to protect the future of our past

FROM AN EXAMPLE OF CORPORATE PRIDE AND CUTTING EDGE RESEARCH—

—TO DEMOLITION BY NEGLECT AND MISINFORMATION.

The Burroughs Wellcome Building is no more.

• One of America’s most forward-looking buildings, an icon of design, and -

• the site of Nobel Prize-winning and life-saving research, and -

• a research center designed for growth - a feature so appreciated by the client that they brought the architect back (three times!) to expand the building, and -

• a building made, inside and out, to inspire and foster innovation, and -

• a design so striking that it was used as sets for film and television, and -

• a landmark of its region and state, and -

• one of architect Paul Rudolph’s largest creations -

—is gone.

Modern architecture is part of America’s cultural legacy - and buildings designed by Paul Rudolph are among some of the best examples of the our architectural achievements: Rudolph’s architecture simultaneously displays practical innovation, creative exuberance, spatial richness, and symbolic depth.

Built as Burroughs Wellcome’s US headquarters and research center (and a prominent landmark within North Carolina’s Research Triangle Park), the building was praised by the company leadership which commissioned it:

“This building is an exciting and ingenious combination of forms [in which] one discovers new and different qualities of forms and spaces . . . a splendid climate for scientific scholarship and for the exchange of ideas.” — Fred A. Coe Jr., President of Burroughs Wellcome

and was hailed by:

• architectural historians

• architectural critics

• heritage preservation organizations

• and—most meaningfully, by the people who worked there:

“. . . .all of us who recall the vibrancy of this building . . . .I count myself very fortunate to have worked there. It was an amazing structure. We were young, and life was full of hope and promise. We were all witnesses, if not direct contributors, to amazing scientific discoveries and their promotion, during an exciting time for medical research.”

“I spent 32 years with [Burroughs Wellcome]. . . At that time, if any space was conceived to bring out the creative, inspirational, thoughts—this was it, in my opinion. I loved working there. We invented and developed more pharmaceutical products in those years. . . .We were “family” but more to the point we were colleagues who were allowed to trust the expertise of each other.”

United Therapeutics - the current owner of the site - had asserted that a significant portion of the building would be restored and reused, but - despite Burroughs Wellcome’s important history and innovative design - they decided to demolish the structure without discussion. So little discussion, that local preservation groups we reached out to about the demolition permit thought it must be for an anticipated asbestos abatement. Wholesale demolition was not considered a possibility.

When supporters learned of its impending demolition, there was enough people trying to see it that security had to push an existing fence farther from it to hide the destruction from the public. People we spoke to who tried to photograph the building were threatened by security guards with trespassing and had photos deleted from their cameras.

PROTECTING THE FUTURE OF THE PAST

Burroughs Wellcome, a significant work of architecture, is now permanently, irretrievably lost. This puts a spotlight on the need to protect America’s cultural heritage—and that includes this country’s great buildings.

The Paul Rudolph Heritage Foundation and other organizations are engaged in that fight to preserve our past.

The destruction of Burroughs Wellcome led the United States chapter of the international preservation organization Docomomo to create The Advocacy Fund:

As part of our #ModernLove campaign, and in response to the recent demolition of Burroughs Wellcome, Docomomo US is announcing the creation of a new initiative: The Advocacy Fund. Gifts to this new initiative will go directly to critical advocacy efforts and will support local and national work.

Modern Love means many things to us: it means celebrating iconic sites like the Ford Foundation Center for Social Justice that received a 2020 Modernism in America Award of Excellence; it means fighting for significant sites like the Hirshhorn Museum and Sculpture Garden; and it means avoiding the loss of significant buildings like Burroughs Wellcome designed by Paul Rudolph that was demolished earlier this year because it lacked appropriate preservation protections.

With your support, Docomomo US can provide assistance to local advocates and campaigns, participate in local and national preservation review meetings including the Section 106 process, and continue to speak out on the issues that concern you the most.

If the loss of the Burroughs Wellcome building makes you angry, please consider donating to the Advocacy Fund. All gifts up to $10,000 will be matched by the Docomomo US Board of Directors!

Buildings by Rudolph—among the world’s most significant works of Modern architecture—are continually threatened with demolition or abuse. Vigilance and advocacy is needed.

We are committed to urging, advising, and campaigning for the preservation (and proper care) of PAUL RUDOLPH’s architectural legacy.

Please give to the Advocacy Fund to preserve the richness of Paul Rudolph’s contributions—and to show:

Demolition is never the answer.

FROM AN ICON OF AMERICAN DESIGN —

— TO DEMOLITION DEBRIS.

And if you see something going on at a Rudolph site—that a building may be threatened, or is not maintained, or is about to be marred by an insensitive ‘update’ - please let us know (we’re easy to contact.)

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IMAGE CREDITS:

Top photograph of the Burroughs Wellcome Building: image courtesy of the Joseph W. Molitor architectural photographs collection, located in Columbia University, Avery Architectural & Fine Arts Library, Department of Drawings & Archives; Photographs of the Burroughs Wellcome building, in the process of demolition: photography by news photojournalist Robert Willett, as they appeared in a January 12, 2021 on-line article in the Raleigh, NC based newspaper The News & Observer; Perspective-section drawing, by Paul Rudolph, through the main body of the Burroughs Wellcome building: © The Estate of Paul Rudolph, The Paul Rudolph Heritage Foundation

Celebrating RICHARD NEUTRA

To be on the cover of TIME Magazine is to be identified as one of the most important persons in your field. While most of TIME’s covers are devoted to the dramatic news of the week or political figures, they also include people of cultural importance—even, occasionally, architects. Above is a screen-grab of a Google Image Search for “‘Time Magazine’ cover architects”—and you can see that the magazine’s editors chose some of the most influential practitioners of the 20th Century, including Le Corbusier, Wright, Fuller, Saarinen, and Johnson—and among them is RICHARD NEUTRA (second row from top, second from right). NOTE: To be chosen is a rare honor, for in the 56 years between Time’s founding in 1923 and 1979, only 14 architects appeared on their covers—no more than an average of once in four years. [There’s been academic attention to the phenomenon, like this article and this one, looking at its meaning in a larger cultural/political context.]

WE CELEBRATE THE RECENT BIRTHDAY OF ARCHITECT RICHARD NEUTRA

Richard Neutra (1892–1970) was a vital part of that generation, early in the 20th Century, which created and spread Modern Architecture in the USA. He was active for more than four decades of practice, and helped to infuse European Modernism (what would later be called the International Style) into American design—as well as extending the realm of architecture through is own creative explorations and contributions.

Neutra had a rich career, designing buildings for almost every type of client: government, educational, military, commercial, and religious—but he is probably most well known for his many residential designs, starting in the late 1920’s—and particularly in Southern California.

The Lovell “Health” House, designed by Richard Neutra

The most famous of these is his Lovell “Health” House of 1929, which is dramatically perched in the hills of Los Angeles (in the Los Feliz area).

This house—like much of Neutra’s work—embodies many of the best values of Modern design: openness, innovative use of materials, an intensely focused attention to the client’s needs, sensitive siting, an embrace of the outdoors, and an overall light touch. The Lovell House is part of the Historic American Buildings Survey, as well as being on the US National Register of Historic Places, and on the list of Los Angeles Historic-Cultural Monuments in Hollywood, (which includes the neighborhood of Los Feliz, and several other areas)—a list created by the city's Cultural Heritage Commission.

Perhaps Richard Neutra’s other most-known residential work of is the Kaufman Desert House in Palm Springs, from 1946. It was designed for the Kaufman family—the same client as Frank Lloyd Wright’s for Fallingwater. While the house has its own inherent beauty—from the qualities which Neutra put into it—it also became famous as the site of one of society-celebrity photographer Slim Aarons’ iconic photograph, “Poolside Gossip” (which was featured on the cover of one of his books, “Slim Aarons: Women.”)

The Kaufman Desert House in Palm Springs, California, a Richard Neutra design of 1946 — and…

… as it is shown in a famous photo, on the cover of “Slim Arrons: Women”, published in 2016

Richard Neutra was not only a designer, but also an author of well over a dozen books. His many writings consider aspects of architecture, and include his sensitivity to the problems of design, urbanism, our relationship to nature, and issues of siting, planning, and building. Through them all, Neutra is looking towards the human element—and how to build better and more sensitively for our needs.

“Where we have employed our technological progress, it has usually been steered towards a techno-economically motivated standardization, and a frustrating monotony. Architects must have a heart for individuality. If they produce an unidentifiable sameness, they smother the individual and his creativity in a cage of monotony.”

— Richard Neutra

The book, by Arthur Drexler and Thomas Hines, published in association with MoMA’s 1982 Richard Neutra exhibition. It can be read, in full, here.

The work of Richard Neutra has been celebrated by scholars, and in numerous publications and exhibitions.

In 1982, the Museum of Modern Art had the first large-scale exhibition that concentrated almost entirely on his residential designs: “The Architecture of Richard Neutra: From International Style to California Modern” The exhibition was curated by the head of the museum’s Department of Architecture and Design, the pathbreaking Arthur Drexler; and by Thomas Hines, the distinguished architectural historian. In association with the exhibition, MoMA also published a book by Drexler and Hines, which remains a landmark in Neutra studies. You can see installation images of the exhibition here—and gain access to the full text of the Drexler/Hines MoMA book here.

As with Paul Rudolph, Neutra’s buildings have not always been maintained with respect—and some have been sadly lost. The Cyclorama Building at Gettysburg is a prime example. In the late 1950’s, Neutra was commissioned to design a visitors center for the famous Civil War battlefield at Gettysburg. The building would be the home to a distinguished panoramic panting, “The Battle of Gettysburg” (by Paul Philippoteaux), and include an observation deck and visitors services. It was dedicated in 1962 and served a half-century of visitors—before being demolished in 2013. The proposal to demolish it was controversial, and it was not destroyed without a fight, and Dion Neutra (Richard Neutra’s son, and eventually a partner in the Neutra architectural practice) was the most energetic of the Cyclorama’s defenders.

Richard Neutra’s Cyclorama Building at Gettysburg, a visitor and education center at the famous Civil War battlefield, was opened in 1962. After serving generations of visitors, it was, sadly, demolished in 2013. Before demolition, it was documented by the Historic American Buildings Survey (you can see their comprehensive set of drawings and photos here.)

The legacy of of Richard Neutra lives on, through the NEUTRA INSTITUTE FOR SURVIVAL THROUGH DESIGN. Dr. Raymond Richard Neutra is the youngest son of Richard Neutra, and—after a career in science, medicine, and public health—Dr. Neutra is now focused on the legacy of his father and his brother Dion. He serves as the president of the Institute’s board, and is joined on the board (or the family advisory board) by members of the Neutra family, as well as other distinguished members of the community.

The NEUTRA INSTITUTE FOR SURVIVAL THROUGH DESIGN has an important vision—and two prime missions to carry out that vision and embody their values:

Vision:  Surviving in the climate crisis through well-researched design that helps humanity and the planet thrive.

Mission One:  Promoting current research and responsible design

Mission Two: Providing interpretation and stewardship of the Neutra legacy 

We Value:

Promoting and deploying climate-responsive technology and natural features to benefit humanity and the planet.

Listening, researching, and inter-disciplinary teamwork for steady improvement

Evidence-inspired solutions, and learning from our successes and failures

Designing for affordability, social justice, and unique individual needs

Designing for delight

Preserving and learning from designs of the past that exemplified these values

You can learn more about their goals, programs, and activities here.

The sign from outside of the Neutra live-work building—one of the facilities belonging to the organization which promotes research and responsible design, and the interpretation and stewardship of the Neutra legacy: THE NEUTRA INSTITUTE FOR SURVIVAL THROUGH DESIGN

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IMAGE CREDITS

NOTES:

The Paul Rudolph Heritage Foundation (a non-profit 501(c)3 organization) gratefully thanks all the individuals and organizations whose images are used in this non-profit scholarly and educational project.

The credits are shown when known to us, and are to the best of our knowledge, but the origin and connected rights of many images (especially vintage photos and other vintage materials) are often difficult determine. In all cases the materials are used in-good faith, and in fair use, in our non-profit scholarly and educational efforts. If any use, credits, or rights need to be amended or changed, please let us know.

When/If Wikimedia Commons links are provided, they are linked to the information page for that particular image. Information about the rights for the use of each of those images, as well as technical information on the images, can be found on those individual pages.

CREDITS, FROM TOP-TO-BOTTOM and LEFT-TO-RIGHT:

Screen-grab of a Google Image Search for “‘Time Magazine’ cover architects”; Lovell House: credit and further info at Wikimedia Commons;  Kaufman Desert Home: photo by Pmeulbroek, via Wikimedia Commons; Slim Aarons book cover: via Amazon; Richard Neutra book by Arthur Drexler and Thomas Hines: via AbeBooks; Cyclorama Building at Gettysburg: photo by Jay Boucher for the Historic American Buildings Survey, accession number HABS PA-6709-8, via Wikimedia Commons;  Sign from Neutra Institute Museum of Silver Lake: excepted from a photo by Bruce Boehner, via Wikimedia Commons

RICHARD NEUTRA QUOTATION:

Quotation from: “Architects On Architecture: New Directions In America” by Paul Heyer, page 140, Walker And Company, New York, 1966

UPDATE: Still an uncertain future for Rudolph's HURLEY BUILDING in Boston

The Hurley Building—a key part of the Boston Government Service Center complex, designed by Paul Rudolph—as seen from the courtyard. In the below aerial view drawing, also by Rudolph, it is on the left part of the site (enclosed in the oval.)

The future of the BOSTON GOVERNMENT SERVICE CENTER—one of Paul Rudolph’s largest and most multifaceted public buildings—remains uncertain.

The Boston Government Service Center, as shown in Paul Rudolph’s aerial view drawing. The threatened Hurley Building is approximately enclosed by the red oval.

THE SITUATION—aS IT’S DEVELOPED

On of the strategies of those who want to demolish all or part of the Boston Government Service Center’s Hurley Building is to spread the idea that Rudolph was not the prime designer of the complex (including Hurley)—a myth we’ve addressed here.

Shown above is a model of the Boston Government Service Center complex, with the Hurley Building closest to the front-left of the picture (the model also includes Rudolphs design for the unbuilt office tower, rising in the center.) In the background can be seen architectural drawings: an elevation and numerous floor plans. Around the model are key players in the creation of the complex—and Paul Rudolph is standing at far right.

ORIGIN:

• The Boston Government Service Center occupies a large triangular-shaped site in downtown Boston’s “Government Center” area [whose other most well-known modern building is the Boston City Hall.]

• The entire block was designed under the strong leadership of Paul Rudolph.

• Rudolph not only created the complex’s overall plan (the “parti”), but also: the design of each section closely following his direction, vision, and set of architetural standards which he defined. [We’ve addressed the nature of Rudolph’s involvement in our article here.]

• The client was the state of Massachusetts. Approximately 2/3 of the complex was built as Rudolph envisioned it, and those buildings house a variety of vital civic/state functions.

DO NEW PLANS LEAD TO DEMOLITION?

• DCAMM: the state of Massachusetts’ Division of Capital Asset Management and Maintenance) has proposed developing and upgrading the site.

• A key part of their plan is handing-off an integral part of the complex—the HURLEY BUILDING—to a developer.

• That could potentially mean the destruction of all-or-part of HURLEY—a building which is a significant part of the overall complex.

• There have been various reports and meetings (as well as interdepartmental discussions) to present and review the state’s plans—and we’ve published several articles on the the situation, including ones examining and questioning this development project (like this one, which looked at the alternatives the state’s been considering.)

• Several critical letters, statements, and reports have come out: protesting the assumption that demolition is the only path to a positive future for this complex.

• We had the impression that all the feedback DCAMM had received had led to a positive development: they seemed to have become receptive to including preservation as a central tenet of the project.

ABOVE & BELOW: the Report and Appendices, recently issued by DCAMM (the state of Massachusetts’ Division of Capital Asset Management and Maintenance), giving a clearer picture of their intentions for the project. Preservation of the Hurley Building does not seem to be a central tenant of the project.

AND NOW: THE RELEASE OF KEY DOCUMENTS

In February, the department advocating the project, DCAMM, moved the project further along,: issuing its report to the state’s Asset Management Board. Their report summarizes the entire project: it shares the history and statistics they gathered, their planning processes, options considered, costs, goals, anticipated revenues and benefits, private sector participation, responses they’ve gotten (and their responses to them), how the project would be administered, and proposed steps & schedule for implementation—including laws and regulations they want waived. [You can see the full report HERE.]

The most interesting part accompanied their report: a set of Appendices which includes copies of their previous proposals/reports, information on the historical-architectural importance of the building complex, and—most fascinating of all: the feedback they’ve received in the form of letters, surveys, public hearings and meetings, and discussions. The “inputters” are from a wide range of stakeholders: neighbors, agencies, professionals, historians, community groups, historians, consultants, and the preservation community. Key documents include:

• statements from the Paul Rudolph Heritage Foundation

• the MASSACHUSETTS HISTORICAL COMMISSION’S report on the importance of the building (and their back-and-forth correspondence with DCAMM)

• the BOSTON LANDMARK COMMISSSION’S report on the importance of the building

• DOCOMOMO’s report and assessment

The feedback is mixed: While the above four entities fully document and defend the significance of the Boston Government Service Center buildings (and this is further supported by input from other groups and individuals), not all the feedback was positive: a number of the area’s residents and other groups would be happy to see the building replaced—though there doesn’t seem to be consensus on just what form the replacement should take, or what features it should incorporate. [You can see the full Appendices HERE.]

BUT WHAT DOES IT uLTIMATELY SAY?

The report pretty much sticks to what all of DCAMM’s previous reports have said: they want to go ahead with the development project, and there will be benefits for everybody (i.e.: revenues and cost reductions, efficiencies in the consolidation of government office space, better energy use, greater pedestrian friendliness in-and-around the complex, an improved neighborhood…)—which we acknowledge are all worthy goals.

To do this: They will need to engage a developer, and that “partner” will take over all-or-part of the Hurley building. None of this is necessarily problematic, but the danger lies in the terms under which their development partner will be required to work—-and specifically: how (and how much) of the Hurley Building will be preserved?

THE WEAK SPOT (THE DANGER): NO CLEAR COMMITTMENT TO PRESERVATION

Based on previous communication from DCAMM, we believed they had arrived to include preservation as a central tenet of the project. But—

Reading through their new report, we find only weak indications their intentions in that direction.

Here’s a quote from the report:

“While the majority of commenters advocated building preservation, there were several strong opinions expressed in favor of building demolition. DCAMM intends to express a preference in the RFP for redevelopment schemes that pursue adaptive reuse of the existing building – that is, schemes that retain some or all of the existing building, but include new improvements to modernize what is retained, and address some of the urban design challenges that many of the building’s detractors find so problematic. Given that the site is eligible for listing in the state and local registers of historic places, and that MHC has indicated that it expects DCAMM to prioritize preservation, this compromise is recommended.”

When you hear that “DCAMM intends to express a preference. . . .for redevelopment schemes that pursue adaptive reuse of the existing building – that is, schemes that retain some or all of the existing building, but. . . .” does that give you confidence?

And when they say “. . . .MHC [the Massachusetts Historical Commission] has indicated that it expects DCAMM to prioritize preservation, this compromise is recommended.” it seems to lead one to think that the responsibility for setting the rules on how the project proceeds is the responsibility of the MHC—whereas DCAMM is directing the project.

And look at another:

“. . . .The complex as a whole is admired by fans of Brutalist architecture for its distinct features and its monumental scale, which is in keeping with the dominant role government played in that Urban Renewal era. DCAMM is in consultation with the Massachusetts Historical Commission and preservation advocates on an adaptive reuse approach that respects the significance of the site while allowing for much-needed improvements. Including the “Open Space Improvement Area” in the disposition site is part of that work.”

Note the language of the above segments: It characterizes those who see value in the building as “fans” [just fans?]; and also places the origin of its form in a past era (making it no longer relevant?). It mentions “consultation with the Massachusetts Historical Commission and preservation advocates”—but there’s no clear, strong commitment to actually acting on the recommendations of those focused on the preservation of our cultural-historical heritage.

Finally, an indication of the attitude to the Hurley Building is the way they refer to it, calling it “the asset.” That may possibly be a technical term in the world of real estate and development—but here again language is important in shaping the way we think: this term drives the listener into valuing this architectural work at only the most basic material/financial level.

One of the two site-specific murals, by Constantino Nivola, in the lobby of the Hurley Building. One can get an idea of the overall scale of the mural from the person seen at the bottom of this view.

AND WHAT OF THE ART?

Many have expressed concern about the Hurley Building’s site-specific murals, by the internationally recognized artist, Constantino Nivola. There are two of them in the lobby: they are expansive, colorful, and rich with symbolism.

In their report, DCAMM says that they have:

“. . . .commissioned an art conservation study to enhance understanding of the significance of these murals, and considerations for restoration / relocation, if required. DCAMM intends to make the results of this study available to potential bidders who may find such information useful.”

Does that sound like much of a commitment to preserving them?

TAKE ACTION:

• Sign the petition: “Save the Boston Government Service Center” — sign it HERE - and share it with your friends and all who appreciate great architecture.

• We can keep you up-to-date with bulletins about the latest developments. To get them, please join our foundation’s mailing list: you’ll get all the updates, (as well as other Rudolphian news.)—and you can sign-up at the bottom of this page.

A corner of the Hurley Building, as seen in Ned Daly’s film, “The Closer You Look”

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IMAGE CREDITS

NOTES:

The Paul Rudolph Heritage Foundation (a non-profit 501(c)3 organization) gratefully thanks all the individuals and organizations whose images are used in this non-profit scholarly and educational project.

The credits are shown when known to us, and are to the best of our knowledge, but the origin and connected rights of many images (especially vintage photos and other vintage materials) are often difficult determine. In all cases the materials are used in-good faith, and in fair use, in our non-profit scholarly and educational efforts. If any use, credits, or rights need to be amended or changed, please let us know.

When/If Wikimedia Commons links are provided, they are linked to the information page for that particular image. Information about the rights to use each of those images, as well as technical information on the images, can be found on those individual pages.

CREDITS, FROM TOP-TO-BOTTOM:

Hurley Building, corner as seen from the courtyard:  Image courtesy of the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, photograph by G. E. Kidder Smith;  Aerial View axonometric drawing of the Boston Government Service Center: by Paul Rudolph, © The estate of Paul Rudolph, The Paul Rudolph Heritage Foundation;  Model of the Boston Government Service Center, surrounded by key players in the creation of the complex: vintage news photo by Max Kotfila, Library of Congress, LoC Control Number 2020630066;  Cover page of the Report on the Charles F. Hurley Building Development Project: published by  DCAMM: the commonwealth of Massachusetts’ Division of Capital Asset Management and Maintenance;  Cover page of the Appendix to the Report on the Charles F. Hurley Building Development Project: published by  DCAMM: the commonwealth of Massachusetts’ Division of Capital Asset Management and Maintenance;  Nivola mural, in the lobby of the Hurley Building: photograph by Kelvin Dickinson, © The estate of Paul Rudolph, The Paul Rudolph Heritage Foundation;  Exterior corner of the Hurley Building: a still from the film “The Closer You Look” by director Ned Daly—and for more information on the film, also see our article here.

What's “REAL”? (and What’s RIGHT) In Preservation: Restoration? Recreation? Reproduction? Renovation? Rehabilitation. . ?

Mies van der Rohe’s Barcelona Pavilion—one of THE key icons and exemplars of Modern Architecture—was built for a 1929 international exposition in Spain. It lasted only briefly, and—for decades thereafter—it was only known via its floor famous plan, a detail drawing of a column, and a handful of photographs (of which this view is the one most repeatedly reproduced.)

Mies died in 1969, and—nearly two decades after he had passed—a reconstruction of the Barcelona Pavilion was completed on the same site as the original. It has provided interesting experiences for architects (who never had a chance to visit the short-lived original)—but whether it should ever have been re-built remains a question within the architectural community.

"Never demolish, never remove or replace, always add, transform, and reuse!"

"Demolishing is a decision of easiness and short term. It is a waste of many things—a waste of energy, a waste of material, and a waste of history. Moreover, it has a very negative social impact. For us, it is an act of violence."

— Anne Lacaton and Jean-Philippe Vassal, winners of the 2021 Pritzker Prize in Architecture

A CASE THAT RAISES QUESTIONS

The Barcelona Pavilion, designed by Mies van der Rohe, was built for an exposition in 1929—a “world’s fair” wherein 20 countries participated, and in which there were also exhibits on industry, science, art, history, crafts, science, and agriculture. The fair lasted for less than a year, and the structure which represented Germany—the Barcelona Pavilion—was demolished along with the rest of the fair’s buildings (as is usually done with such fairs).

The Barcelona Pavilion’s “cruciform column”: this plan-detail of it was one of the few original Mies drawings available—and has been the focus of attention for nearly a century.

After Paul Rudolph visited the Barcelona Pavilion, he made a series of fascinating analytical drawings—one of which is shown above—and all of which you can see here (where you can also read Rudolph’s thoughts about his moving experience of the building.)

Mies’ design became famous: an “icon”—an ontological distillation of a key thrust of architectural Modernism. Mies’ building lasted for only about 8 months, yet it continues to penetrate and have hegemony over architectural imaginations to this day. It did that via a handful of photographs and a couple of drawings—and it’s a testament to the power of the Mies’ concept that the Barcelona Pavilion has remained relevant for nearly a century, even on such thin evidence.

Later in Mies’ life, he was asked about rebuilding the Barcelona Pavilion, and he’s reported to have thought that it wasn’t a bad idea, and—-as the original construction drawings had been lost—he mentioned that his office could cooperate by making drawings for it. But, during Mies life (1886-1969), nothing came of the project.

In the mid-1980’s that changed: between 1983 and 1986 the building had been permanently rebuilt—and on the same site it had originally stood.

Very few of the people who’d be the most interested in the building—the architectural community—had a chance to visit the Barcelona Pavilion when it was briefly extant (and obviously none after its destruction). So the rebuilding has been celebrated, as it has allowed one to finally experience, in person, what they’d read about, studied, obsessed over, and dreamt of. [Paul Rudolph made a visit, which he found highly moving—and which you can read all about, here.]

Even though the reappearance, “in the flesh”, of the Barcelona Pavilion has benefits, its rebuilding has also been not without controversy—and it has brought forth serious questions:

1. Could a truly accurate rebuilding be done without the original architect’s direct involvement? [Which was clearly not possible in this case, as Mies had passed years before the rebuilding project even started.]

2. Even if Mies had been involved, would he have made changes in the a rebuilt design?—and how would that affect its authenticity. [Paul Rudolph observed that many things he saw at the site were not architecturally “resolved”—and that, Rudolph thought, was part of its magic. That imperfection may be “par for the course” with a rapidly planned and constructed, temporary exposition building—-but the temptation to “fix” such things, later, might have been too much for anyone (especially Mies) to resist.]

3. An important part of the experience of the Barcelona Pavilion was the effect caused by the materials used: slabs of natural stone—including some personally selected by Mies. These had been destroyed or dispersed, when the building was demolished in 1930. [How could one know that the newly chosen materials truly matched the originals in tone, grain, color, and texture?]

4. How much documentation was actually available, in order to do an accurate rebuilding? [In this case, while valiant attempts were made to sift for all documents and archeological evidence, there was still a significant gap between whatever original information was found, and what had to be extrapolated.]

5. Are there things that are better left in the realm of the imagination, and which should not be materialized (even when we have the power to do so)? [Philip Johnson—THE long-time associate, expert, and evangelist for Mies—said of the rebuilding project: “The problem before us is should a dream be realized or not? We have made such a myth of that building. Shouldn’t it be left in the sacred vault of the memory bank?”]

These questions remain—-and they are pertinent today, as we are, more-and-more, presented with new building projects which, allegedly, intend to rebuild, recreate, reproduce, or restore something that has been lost.

One problem is that the the thinking and language around these questions has become elastic, slippery, and with elusive meaning or intent. There is a lack of rigor in preservation—-not in the professional field, per se (about which we have immense admiration—-more about that below), but in the way that claims of preservation have been made which seem questionable. Making the situation even more difficult is that all this exists in a troublesome (and troubling) larger cultural context…

A REALITY / TRUST DEFICIT

A chart from the Pew Research Center’s study of Public Trust in Government: 1958-2019 The overall downward trend, from 1964 to the present, is evident. [Note that the largest and steepest drop was in the wake of the mid-1970’s Watergate scandal.] Whether such mistrust is deserved (and how one might ever determine such a titanic question) is another issue—nevertheless, the general direction of public sentiment is quite clear.

At the end of the 20th century, a symposium was held in New York on the topic of “Authenticity”. Topics ranged from the ubiquity (and intense popularity) of un-authorized “knock-off” copies of fashion items (like Gucci handbags) -to- the legitimacy of sampling in music; and—perhaps to spur new thinking about the question of “realness”—the event’s organizers had arranged for a drag queen to be the day’s host. It’s no secret that what can (and cannot) be trusted to be real, to be authentic, seems to be increasingly fluid — i.e.: the ongoing excitement about developments products for virtual reality (and their increasing consumer availability); that polls show trust in government has been on a nearly 60-year downward trend; our present (and elongating) moment when business, schooling, and socializing is done via screens; and everybody seems to have their own (and mutually exclusive) set of “facts.”

In the context of this, is it any wonder that we’re sensitive to such questions as:

• What’s real ?

• What’s authentic ?

• What’s “Original” (and what’s “Original Intent”) ?

• What has integrity ?

And these questions of integrity, of what is original, of what is authentic—the kind of truthfulness that might be found in architecture —comes up starkly in the domain of architectural preservation.

Ayn Rand’s architect hero, Howard Roark (at right) at a moment-of-truth: considering whether to compromise on the integrity of his design.

INTEGRITY aND ARCHITECTURE

Perhaps you’ve come across a building (or part of a building) which has been newly constructed—and the sponsors claim that their project is historically renovated, or that it is an authentic recreation, or that it is true to the spirit of the original architect, or that it is rehabilitated to match the original construction (or they characterize the work with similar such language.)

Do such claims have a solid basis? Or are they part of the “Creeping Surrealism” noted earlier?

Clearly, there shouldn’t be blanket verdicts on this (and one must judge on a case-by-case basis) — But, these days, one could hardly be overcautious when considering such claims, for, as Ayn Rand put it so starkly:

“A building has integrity, just as a man and just as seldom."

And that integrity (or lack thereof) can apply to preservation projects—ones which claim to be done with care, and rigor. But there’s also good news: there is a body-of-knowledge—and a profession to apply it—where such rigor can be found.

PRESERVATION—a pROFESSIONAL APPROACH

Fortunately, there is a well-developed discipline of Preservation—by which we mean the field that is historically and scientifically rigorous, professionally ethical, and which has a well-developed set of supporting institutions. activities, and tools. Some of those include:

• standards-setting organizations

• schools

• certifications

• professional groups, conferences, and ways of identifying and honoring distinguished work in the field

• journals

• publications

• databases

• government and public engagement

For example: One can see the wealth of preservation knowledge that’s been developed by looking at its publications. We asked Barbara A. Campagna, FAIA, LEED AP BD+C—a leading professional in this field, with in-depth experience in preservation—about this. We asked for the names of some of the key journals of the field—ones in which the profession of preservation shares its growing body of information and practical wisdom—and she mentioned: the Association for Preservation Technology’s APT Bulletin, the Journal of the Society of Architectural Historians, and DOCOMOMO International’s DOCOMOMO Journal—all of which are peer reviewed.

PRESERVATION LANGUAGE FOR CLEAR THINKING

The profession has as worked-out an extensive vocabulary—terms which can help bring clarity to any proposed project.

For example: The National Parks Service refers to “Four Approaches to the Treatment of Historic Properties”—and offers a concise glossary of the key terms:

• Preservation focuses on the maintenance and repair of existing historic materials and retention of a property's form as it has evolved over time.

• Rehabilitation acknowledges the need to alter or add to a historic property to meet continuing or changing uses while retaining the property's historic character.

• Restoration depicts a property at a particular period of time in its history, while removing evidence of other periods.

• Reconstruction re-creates vanished or non-surviving portions of a property for interpretive purposes.

Each of the highlighted words above has their own separate set of standards (and clicking on them will bring you to the the relevant pages where that’s gone into.) The National Parks Service also offers training and an extensive set of publications which cover many areas, including general preservation strategy as well as in-depth technical information—and you can access them here.

But they is just one of numerous preservation organizations (both national and local) which also offer advice, data, and a great range of assistance—the National Trust for Historic Preservation being another major resource.

CASE STUDIES sHOWING A POSITIVE DIRECTION

There are several projects, within Rudolph’s oeuvre, where renovation was done with responsibility and care. Notable is that these were done well after Rudolph’s passing—so they show that it is possible to do such work (including bringing a building up to later standards) well, and still be loyal to the original architect’s vision.

HEALY GUEST HOUSE (THE “COOCOON” HOUSE)

The Healy Guest House (1950) in Sarasota, Florida, is a waterside vacation residence designed near the beginning of Paul Rudolph’s career. Known for its catenary roof, inventive structure, and fresh form, the design—combined with Rudolph’s virtuoso drawing technique—was to help initiate Rudolph’s fame as one of America’s most creative young architects. Much published and studied over the decades, the City of Sarasota has added it to its list of Locally Historically Designated Properties in 1985.

In 2018, the house was leased to the Sarasota Architecture Foundation. They did a number of important renovation projects at the house, and—according to David Zaccardelli, the SAF board member overseeing the process—they “. . . .replaced the front door; restored the louvers, stripping them to natural grain wood; painted the exterior; and restored the front and rear porch, including the originally designed metal bench on the porch overlooking Bayou Louise. We also repaired the driveway and walkway pavers and installed new screens.” Following the renovations, the SAF contracted a local interior designer to furnish the residence in period-appropriate 1950’s-style furniture—and then reopened it for public tours.

Paul Rudolph’s perspective rendering of the Healy Guest House—which shows its iconic catenary curve roof.

The guest house, a Florida vacation structure built for the Healy family, sits along the water in Sarasota.

JEWETT ARTS CENTER AT WELLESLEY COLLEGE

The Mary Cooper Jewett Arts Center (1955-1958) was a breakthrough for Rudolph: it was his first major non-residential project to get built (and indeed, his latter career would include numerous buildings for education.). A complex program had to be accommodated—but, just as important: Rudolph sought to design a Modern building that would be sympathetic with the Wellesley’s existing vintage buildings. Those had been done in a “Collegiate Gothic” mode—a traditional style which had been popular approach for the design of campuses. Rudolph had no interest in reproducing the exact forms and details of the older buildings, but he did seek to resonate with them—and so he used shapes, proportions, glazing, and structure in ways that would fit well into the existing campus.

After about a half-century of use, the building needed a variety of repairs, and the college commissioned a comprehensive study of its condition. Significant work was judged to be needed for the windows: Rudolph had framed the glazing in wood, and by the mid 2010’s the window assemblies were in need of replacement. Several options were considered, but the best one—rebuilding the windows to match Rudolph’s design, but using a hardier wood, and carefully integrating double-glazing—was seen to be too expensive for the available budget. In 2019, the Paul Rudolph Heritage Foundation participated in discussions about the renovation plans, and encouraged the preservation team to hold to Rudolph’s vision—and suggested a funding and scheduling approach that would allow the university to do the renovations correctly (and be able to afford to do so.)

Paul Rudolph’s Jewett Arts Center, at Wellesley College. To resonate with campus’ other buildings (which had been designed in the Collegiate Gothic style), the new building was detailed to include coupled columns, pointed skylights, modulated metal screening, and a carefully articulated wood-framed window system.

One of Paul Rudolph’s details of the building’s exterior. This is a plan-detail, showing a concrete column (In a 4-lobed shape, which evokes the campus’ vintage Gothic-style building details), and a corner of the wood-framed glazing system. When constructed, the building was single-glazed (which was standard for the time).

YALE ART & ARCHITECTURE BUILDING

Paul Rudolph’s most famous work, the Yale Art & Architecture Building (1958-1964, rededicated as “Rudolph Hall” in 2008) had—after a major fire, years of patchy repairs and partial/unsympathetic renovations, and four decades of hard use by students—fallen into sorry shape. Yale even considered demolishing it, but a variety of causes (including significant support from Sid. R. Bass) brought forth a respectful and comprehensive renovation. The work included a focus on major systems (HVAC, lighting) and materials (particularly the condition of the exterior concrete and the glazing): they were upgraded, brought up to code, fixed, and—most important as the guiding principle—done in a way that maintained the forms and spirit of Rudolph’s vision for the school.

Although Paul Rudolph is famous for his perspective drawings, he also sometimes chose other graphic forms—like axonometric or isometric projections (the latter of which is used here, in his drawing of the Yale building.)

Windows—their form, details, and framing—are a part of every architects palette—and Paul Rudolph varied how they were handed in his design at Yale. Here they’re shown the process of replacement during the renovation.

PRESERVATION: THE ONGOING CHALLENGE

Sometimes preservation is straightforward—but more often there are difficulties—technical, budgetary, and philosophical. The ancient Greek riddle of the Ship of Theseus provides a paradigmatic example of the latter:

That legendary hero, Theseus, upon finishing his adventures and long journey, returned to Athens by ship. Honoring him, the ship was kept in the harbor for hundreds of years—held sacred as a memorial to this great and most heroic warrior. But, over centuries, the ship’s parts needed to be replaced: first a few planks, then a mast, a beam, some decking…. By end of many years, every part of the ship had—piece-by-piece—been replaced. It happened slowly—so gradually that it had hardly been noticed—but what ultimately stood in the harbor was a ship made entirely of new materials, none of which had been present in Theseus’ time. So the questions arose: Could this really be considered Theseus’ ship? Did it have a claim on authenticity? The form of the ship was the same, and the replacements were done slowly, over long years—and each time with meticulous care and good faith—but was it the same ship?

Had Theseus’ ship been preserved? That’s the essence of the question—one that’s been puzzled over for two millennia. The model can applied to many things: How much of the human body can be replaced, and still be considered human (or the same person)? How much can the staff of a design firm turn-over, before the fundamental nature of the entity is lost? How many members of a group can be replaced, and it still be the “same” band (or sports team)?

And what about when preserving a buildings? How much can be changed, and still be an authentic work of the original architect?

These issues are pertinent to the legacy of Paul Rudolph!

• How much of a Paul Rudolph building can be changed or replaced, and it still really be a Paul Rudolph design?

• Can one demolish a Rudolph building and re-build it later (with all or substantially new materials)—and claim that it is still a real work of Paul Rudolph?

The Paul Rudolph Heritage Foundation is pledged to protecting Rudolph’s legacy—including a focus on preservation. We are alive to these questions—and we aspire to bring integrity, knowledge, and rigor into all the cases which come to our attention. WE ARE WATCHING.

WHAT YOU CAN DO

• If you know of any Paul Rudolph buildings that might be threatened—please contact us at: office@paulrudolphheritagefoundation.org

• If you are thinking of renovating or changing a Paul Rudolph design, please feel truly welcome to talk to us: we’ll be happy to share our knowledge and experience.

• Stay up-to-date with bulletins about the latest developments—and to get them, please join our foundation’s mailing list. You’ll get all the updates, (as well as other Rudolph news.)—and you can sign-up at the bottom of this page.

The Ship of Theseus, a famous and ancient riddle (and philosophical problem) with ongoing relevance for preservation—including for Paul Rudolph buildings.

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IMAGE CREDITS

NOTES:

The Paul Rudolph Heritage Foundation (a non-profit 501(c)3 organization) gratefully thanks all the individuals and organizations whose images are used in this non-profit scholarly and educational project.

The credits are shown when known to us, and are to the best of our knowledge, but the origin and connected rights of many images (especially vintage photos and other vintage materials) are often difficult determine. In all cases the materials are used in-good faith in our non-profit scholarly and educational efforts. If any use, credits, or rights need to be amended or changed, please let us know.

When Wikimedia Commons links are provided, they are linked to the information page for that particular image. Information about the rights to use each of those images, as well as technical information on the images, can be found on those individual pages.

CREDITS, FROM TOP-TO-BOTTOM, AND LEFT-TO-RIGHT:

Barcelona Pavilion, 1929: vintage photo;  Barcelona Pavilion, rebuilt in the 1980’s: Ashley Pomeroy via Wikimedia Commons;  Mies’ Barcelona Pavilion cruciform column detail: vintage drawing;  Paul Rudolph analytical drawing of the Barcelona Pavilion: © The Estate of Paul Rudolph, The Paul Rudolph Heritage Foundation;  Chart of trust in government: Pew Research Center;  Drawing of Healy Guest House: © The Estate of Paul Rudolph, The Paul Rudolph Heritage Foundation;  Photograph of Healy Guest House: courtesy of the Sarasota Architectural Foundation;  Photograph of Jewett Arts Center: © The Estate of Paul Rudolph, The Paul Rudolph Heritage Foundation;  Detail of column and glazing system at Jewett Arts Center: © The Estate of Paul Rudolph, The Paul Rudolph Heritage Foundation;  Isometric drawing of the Yale Art & Architecture Building: © The Estate of Paul Rudolph, The Paul Rudolph Heritage Foundation;  Photograph of glazing renovation at the Yale Art & Architecture Building: Hoffmann Architects, Inc., via Wikimedia Commons;  Mosaic of ancient Greek ship: Dennis Jarvis, via Wikimedia Commons

Rudolph's BIGGS RESIDENCE: Demolition (but No Permission?)

The Biggs Residence—a Rudolph design of 1955-1956, in Delray Beach, Florida—has just now been demolished. It is pictured here from the time it received a Merit Award in the 1959 Homes for Better Living Awards sponsored by the AIA.

AN ACCELERATING RATE OF DESTRUCTION

The Burroughs Wellcome headquarters building and research center, in Durham, North Carolina—one of Paul Rudolph’s most iconic designs, and a structure of historic importance—has been turned into demolition debris.

In the last several years, it seems like we’ve experienced an acceleration in the destruction and threats to our architectural heritage—and this has hit the works of Paul Rudolph especially hard. Several important Rudolph buildings are now threatened, or have been outright destroyed or removed—and they are some of Paul Rudolph’s profoundest, key works:

• Burroughs Wellcome: DEMOLISHED

• Walker Guest House: REMOVED—taken apart, and moved to an unknown location

• Orange County Government Center: DEMOLISHED—partially, with the balance changed beyond recognition

• Niagara Falls Main Library: THREATENED

• Boston Government Service Center: THREATENED

• Milam and Rudolph Residences: SOLD -or- ON THE MARKET—with no assurances that new owners won’t demolish or change them beyond recognition

The Paul Rudolph Heritage Foundation advocates for the preservation and proper maintenance of buildings designed by Rudolph—and is available to consult with owners about sensitive adaptive reuse, renovation, and redevelopment of Rudolph buildings (especially as an alternative to demolition!)

But, vigilant as we are, sometimes we’re taken aback by news of a precipitous demolition or marring of one of Rudolph’s great designs.

THE LATEST DESTRUCTION OF A RUDOLPH BUILDING

The opening of Mike Diamond’s article about the demolition of the Biggs Residence, which appeared in the March 12, 2021 issue of the Palm Beach Post.

We’re shocked that yet another of Paul Rudolph’s fine works of architecture has been demolished—and, if the news report is accurate, it’s been allegedly done without even a permit.

The Biggs Residence is a Rudolph-designed residence in Delray Beach, Florida, from 1955-1956. Over the years, the subsequent owner or owners have not been kind to it: there have been numerous and highly conspicuous changes and additions which cannot be called sympathetic to Paul Rudolph’s original design. New owners have, in the last few years, been planning to remove the offending changes and accumulated construction—and have been lauded for their good intentions. Repairs and restorations were to be done, as well as alterations and additions that were to be sympathetic to the building (and be resonant with Paul Rudolph’s approach to planning and construction.) Plans were filed, and the owner’s architect—an award winning firm—produced a well-composed “justification statement” which offers some interesting and convincing thinking about how they intended to proceed with the project, their design strategies and solutions, and how they were to have the property “rehabilitated.”

But—

But, according to March 12th article in the Palm Beach Post, much more has actually happened at the site. Their reporter, Mike Diamond, reports that the current owners “. . . .were found to have violated the city’s building code by demolishing the house without a permit from the city’s Historic Preservation Board.”

This site photo shows that, as of the moment it was taken, some of the Biggs Residence’s structural steel was still in place—but most of the rest of the house (exterior and interior walls, windows, ceilings, finishes, cabinetry, fittings…) has been demolished and removed.

The article further says that the owners “. . . .must obtain an after-the-fact demolition permit. . . . They also face steep fines for committing and ‘irreversible’ violation of the city’s building code.” The owners are disagreeing, and claiming that the city misinterpreted their documents and, in the article’s words, their lawyer claims that “. . . .the city should have realized that the approvals for renovation could have resulted in the house being demolished based on its deteriorating condition….”

That is a claim which an attorney for the city and a city planner both dispute.

SERIOUS QUESTIONS

Perhaps there were good reasons for the owners to proceed this way—but there are serious questions:

• What were their compelling reasons?

• What were the building’s actual conditions, which led them to decide for demolition?

• What alternatives were considered?

• Could there have been other approaches?

• What did the architect think of this decision to demolish?

No doubt, there will be further developments in this case, and we will be following it.

PAUL RUDOLPH’S DESIGN AT tHE BIGGS RESIDENCE: PURITY OF CONCEPT

The Biggs Residence was—and now, unfortunately, we’ll have to speak of it in the past tense—an important part of Paul Rudolph’s oeuvre. There he continued exploring several design themes he’d been working on, ever since he’d returned from service in World War II and restarted practice in Florida—and at Biggs, perhaps, he brought one of those themes to its most perfect realization.

Rudolph’s perspective rendering for the Biggs Residence—a drawing which shows his original platonic intent: a pure “rectangular prism” floating above the ground.

Illustrations from Le Corbusier’s manifesto, “Vers une Architecture” (“Towards An Architecture”), in which he speaks of the compelling beauty of pure forms.

As you can see from Rudolph’s perspective rendering (above-left), his conception was quite “platonic”: he was intent on creating a pure form, “floating” above the earth, and tethered to it as lightly as possible—in this case, by an open staircase and a few slender uprights. Even the service block (presumably to contain or screen the boiler, and maybe an auto,) sheltering below, was fully detached from the prime living volume. Such a conception (and goal) comes out of one of the root obsessions of the Modern movement in architecture: a kind of purism which is animated by a love of geometric forms, and which eschews all that might obscure that purity. Le Corbusier, in his foundational book, “Vers une Architecture” (“Towards An Architecture”) puts it boldly:

“Architecture is the masterly, correct and magnificent play of masses brought together in light. Our eyes are made to see forms in light; light and shade reveal these forms; cubes, cones, spheres, cylinders or pyramids are the great primary forms which light reveals to advantage; the image of these is distinct and tangible within us without ambiguity. It is for this reason that these are beautiful forms, the most beautiful forms. Everybody is agreed to that, the child, the savage and the metaphysician.”

Of course, interest in (and obsession with) such “pure” geometric forms goes back to the ancients (i.e.: the term “platonic”), and even in the 18th century—a time when classical architecture was dominant, including its full ornamental armamentarium—architects like Claude-Nicolas Ledoux and Étienne-Louis Boullée produced visionary drawings of architectural projects that embraced such purity (with perhaps the most famous being Ledoux’s design for a spherical villa.)

Claude-Nicolas Ledoux’s view of a spherical country house. He fully developed the design, including plans and sections.

Paul Rudolph, born during Modernism’s heroic years. was educated by the founder of the Bauhaus himself, Walter Gropius (who was head of the architecture program at Harvard while Rudolph was a student there). He could not have helped being immersed, taught, and saturated in such aesthetic ideals—and he brought them into his work.

Looking at Rudolph’s oeuvre, we can see that he tried this platonic approach to residential design prior to Biggs: with the Walker Residence project of 1951—but that remained unbuilt; and the Leavengood Residence of 1950—but that building had a more complex program, and thus many more appurtenances outside of the house’s main body (and it also had visually firmer connections to the ground.) So Leavengood did not approach the platonic ideal anywhere as closely as Biggs.

THE AESTHETICS (AND DRAMATICS) OF STRUCTURE

An view of the interior of the Galerie des Machines, one of the exhibition buildings erected for the 1889 world’s fair in Paris. The architects (headed by Ferdinand Dutert) and the engineers (headed by Victor Contamin) dramatically showed the potentials of steel and iron—both as spanning structure and as an expressive medium. The size of the building can be judged from the figures in the distance.

In the initial decades of Rudolph’s career—given the simplicity of the programs for which he was asked to design, and the often limited budgets—structure was one of the few ways that he could explore the potentials of architectural design, and he fully used it as an expressive tool. Whether by doubling vertical members (as he did at the 1951 Maehlman Guest House and the 1952 Walker Guest House), or by using a dramatic suspended catenary roof system (as at the 1950 Healy (“Cocoon”) Guest House), or anticipating the utilization of curved plywood for structural roof arches (as at the 1951 Knott Residence project), Rudolph was always looking at ways to transcend structure’s function, and raise it to the poetics of design.

Certainly, this expressive use of structure has always been a concern of architects, from Gothic cathedral builders to the creators of the titanic structures of iron and steel which emerged during the 19th Century (especially in France, England, and the US).

The “masters” of modernism—having abandoned expressive styles, modes, and motifs available to previous generations—often turned to using structural systems as an important part of their architectural palette, and they did so in inventive ways. Mies van der Rohe’s Farnsworth House ((1945-1951) is an icon of Modern architecture and residential design—and one of the most notable aspects of his design is the relationship he set-up between the planes of the floor and roof, and the building’s vertical steel columns. The columns are, or course, supporting elements—yet Mies plays with their role, having them visually slide past the floor and roof’s perimeter steel members. This confers a partially floating quality to those planes—possibly one of Mies’ prime goals. [It’s also notable that Philip Johnson, at his Glass House (1947-1949), took yet another direction with these relationships. He placed the vertical steel structural members inside the house’s volume, and integrating them with the frames which held the walls of glass—and thus absorbed the structure into the design of the building’s envelope.]

The eyes of the architectural world were on Mies’ design (and Johnsons!)—and Rudolph would have known them well. At Biggs, in contrast to Mies or Johnson, Rudolph chose to pull the perimeter structural frame noticeably inward from the outer edge house’s main floor volume above. Thus, instead of experiencing the building as a pair of planes (as with Mies), Biggs main living area is perceived as a separate volume (reinforcing its “platonic-ness”), only resting upon the structure. Moreover, instead of placing the beams in an overlapping relationship (as Mies did), he intersects them boldly—and they appear to be penetrating through each other.

LEFT: The Farnsworth House (1945-1951) by Mies van der Rohe. Its vertical steel columns visually “pass by” the floor’s and roof’s horizontal structural steel “C” members. ABOVE: In contrast to the Farnsworth House, the Biggs' steel columns and beams appear to pass through each other.

Not only can this be seen on Biggs’ exterior, but it is experienced on the inside as well: the large ceiling beams, which dramatically span the living room, also have the same interpenetrating relationship to the interior’s steel columns.

Those column-beam relationships did not exhaust Rudolph’s exploration of structure at Biggs. He had one more occasion in which he used exterior steel elements in an intriguing way: When the perimeter beams met at the outside corners, instead of butting them (as would be done in standard steel construction), he mitered them at the corners. [You can see this in an exterior photo below.] In this way, the upper and lower flanges of the steel beams were not just there for their structural role, but—via this mitering connection—their visual power as a pair of parallel planes was revealed.

THE PRACTICALITIES OF COMFORT AND CONVENIENCE

Even with such geometric ideals, structural intrigues, and the other fascinations in which creative architects like Rudolph engage, he was also a very practical designer—and sensitive to his client’s needs. At the point when he received the Biggs commission, he had nearly three dozen constructed projects “under his belt.” So, whatever his interest in building pure forms, his planning of the Biggs Residence included features which the owners would find gracious and practical.

The main (upper) floor contained:

• two bedrooms (well separated, providing for excellent spatial and acoustic privacy, and each with a significant amount of closets and its own bath)

• a central living/dining area (with large amounts of windows for good cross-ventilation—and the ability to catch breezes from the house’s raised design)

• a kitchen adjacent to the dining area (with a wise balance of openness and enclosure)

• a broad “storage wall” in the central area—a feature of American post-World War II residential design, pioneered by George Nelson

Paul Rudolph’s floor plan of the upper (main volume) level of the Biggs Residence, exhibiting his practical and gracious sense of planning.

The ground floor was also well thought out, and included:

• An exterior sitting area (well shaded from the Florida sun)

• A covered parking area (also shielding the car from solar overheating, as well as Florida’s occasional heavy rains)

• The entry and stairs (up to the main level)

• Additional storage or mechanical space (always useful)

The Biggs living room, in which some segments of the house’s structural steel can be seen—especially the pair of long beams which span the living space.

Another view of the living area—this time, towards the dining table at the end of the room, which sits near the storage wall. At the far right is the entry passage to the kitchen. In this photograph, one of room’s pair of large steel ceiling beams is strongly emphasized.

Raising the body of the building liberates space at the ground level, which is left open for shaded outdoor seating and parking. Structural steel—for the columns, and the inset perimeter and intermediary beams—is exposed, and the connections are composed and detailed with care.

FURTHER DEVELOPMENTS (AND WHAT YOU CAN DO)

We’ll keep looking into the Biggs case, and let you know how this develops.

If you have any information on this situation—or know of any other Paul Rudolph buildings that might be threatened—please contact us at: office@paulrudolphheritagefoundation.org

We can keep you up-to-date with bulletins about the latest developments—and to get them, please join our foundation’s mailing list. You’ll get all the updates, (as well as other Rudolph news.)—and you can sign-up at the bottom of this page.

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IMAGE CREDITS

The Paul Rudolph Heritage Foundation gratefully thanks all the individuals and organizations whose images are used in this scholarly and educational project.

The credits are shown when known, and are to the best of our knowledge. If any use, credits, or rights need to be amended or changed, please let us know.

Note: When Wikimedia Commons links are provided, they are linked to the information page for that particular image. Information about the rights to use each of those images, as well as technical information on the images, can be found on those individual pages.

Credits, from top-to-bottom, and left-to-right:

Biggs exterior view: photo by Ernest Graham, from a vintage issue of House & Home magazine, June 1959, courtesy of US Modernist Library;  Section-perspective drawing of Burroughs Wellcome building: by Paul Rudolph, © The Estate of Paul Rudolph, The Paul Rudolph Heritage Foundation;  Demolition photo of Burroughs Wellcome building: photography by news photojournalist Robert Willett, as they appeared in a January 12, 2021 on-line article in the Raleigh, NC based newspaper The News & Observer;  Perspective rendering of Biggs Residence: drawing by Paul Rudolph, © The Estate of Paul Rudolph, The Paul Rudolph Heritage Foundation;  Mies’ Farnsworth House column-beam relationship: photo by Benjamin Lipsman, via Wikimedia Commons;  Plan of Biggs Residence: © The Estate of Paul Rudolph, The Paul Rudolph Heritage Foundation;  Photographs of interiors and exterior of Biggs Residence: photo by Ernest Graham, from a vintage issue of House & Home magazine, June 1959, courtesy of US Modernist Library;  Photograph of Paul Rudolph: © The Estate of Paul Rudolph, The Paul Rudolph Heritage Foundation

ELIMINATING AN ICON

The Destruction of one of Rudolph's greatest Buildings: Burroughs Wellcome

FROM AN ICON OF DESIGN —

— TO DEMOLITION DEBRIS.

Paul Rudolph, over his half-century career in which he designed more than 320 projects, created buildings and interiors of landmark distinction—and none were more forward looking, more focused on the unity of form and function, and more architectonically/spatially exciting than his BURROUGHS WELLCOME headquarters and research center.

After a long fight to preserve one of his most well-known and well-loved designs, we now see that the owners have chosen destruction. An article in the North Carolina-based The News & Observer reports:

“[Dismantling]. . . has been underway internally for several months. But now the demolition has reached the point where workers are pulling the building apart and hauling away pieces by the truckload.”

Burroughs Wellcome’s main—and upliftingly inspiring—entry lobby—a powerful spatial experience that is now lost.

In previous posts we’ve reported on several facets of the Burroughs Wellcome building complex—showing its significance in multiple examples, including:

• the Nobel Prize-winning research which was done there

• it being the site of historic activist protest, which had the positive effect of leading to greater availability of life-saving treatment

• it being acknowledged, by historians and by critics and the people who worked there, as an architectural work of the greatest significance (and a wonderful environment in which to work)

• as a building where the most careful attention was applied to its design and details

• as a key early success—and the most architecturally prominent work—in the Research Triangle Park development

• as an example of the practical power of building flexibility-expandability into the building’s design and geometry

• and we’ve shown the building’s “star quality”—via the film and television productions which used the building as a site for inspiration—an indicator of its iconic design

“This building is an exciting and ingenious combination of forms [in which] one discovers new and different qualities of forms and spaces . . . a splendid climate for scientific scholarship and for the exchange of ideas.” — Fred A. Coe Jr., President of Burroughs Wellcome

“Don't mourn, organize!”

That’s an old saying among activists—encouraging them, even in defeat, to keep on fighting. The destruction of Burroughs Wellcome is a deep wound to this country’s cultural heritage—and that makes us even more committed to keep urging/advising/campaigning for the preservation (and proper care) of PAUL RUDOLPH’s architectural legacy.

Our commitment to preserving Rudolph’s work started early—

When Paul Rudolph's Micheels Residence was threatened, the challenge to its demolition went all the way to court. The owner, pushed by the promise of a quick sale to a new owner who wished to tear it down, claimed that Rudolph didn't really do the design, but was just drawing “what I told him to.” The judge—not knowing who Rudolph was—accepted the claim, and declared that if anyone wanted to save the building, they should simply “buy it.”

Stung by the lack of support and recognition of Rudolph’s legacy, Kelvin Dickinson (later President of the Paul Rudolph Heritage Foundation) took all of the images he was in the process of digitizing from Rudolph’s personal archives and put them up on Flickr. He then created the public group: “The Art & Architecture of Paul Rudolph” as way to crowdsource images of other Rudolph projects—ones that might come down before he could visit them, or before they were seen and appreciated enough by the public in time to save them.

The Boston Government Service Center—a Paul Rudolph project of architectural and urbanistic significance—which we are currently campaigning to preserve.

The idea, begun in 2007, was powerful: his 3,000 images got 3.2 million views—and the group’s collection doubled to over 6,000 images. [These were later moved to the PRHF archives on our website, where they are paired with additional and current information: www.paulrudolphheritagefoundation.org/timeline]

And today we are still at it, adding updates and more information every day.

Sadly, the Burroughs Wellcome demolition is an update we wish we didn't have to make to our records. After so much writing and pouring over drawings of the building, it feels like losing a family member. But there are other Rudolph designs—right now—that are threatened, like the Boston Government Service Center (where, like the Micheels Residence, people are diminishing Rudolph’s role in its creation to excuse proposed demolition and/or redevelopment).

The lesson of every fight is this: If a building (especially one of Rudolph’s!) speaks to you or has meaning for you, then:

• take a photo of it

• talk about it

• write about it

• draw a sketch of it

• take your friends, students or family to see, walk around, and thru it

• and join with others—like the Paul Rudolph Heritage Foundation—to make sure that the building is well-cared for and saved as part of our larger cultural heritage

And if you see something going on at a Rudolph site—some sign that the building is threatened or not maintained—please let us know (we’re easy to contact). We learned about the threat to Burroughs Wellcome from a fan who lives near it and sent us photos out of concern. 

Your voice and vigilance matters

Maybe not enough today, but tomorrow it could save the next, beloved work of great architecture.

Paul Rudolph’s

IMAGE CREDITS

Perspective-section drawing, by Paul Rudolph, through the main body of the Burroughs Wellcome building: © The Estate of Paul Rudolph, The Paul Rudolph Heritage Foundation; Photographs of the Burroughs Wellcome building, in the process of demolition: photography by news photojournalist Robert Willett, as they appeared in a January 12, 2021 on-line article in the Raleigh, NC based newspaper The News & Observer; Lobby of Burroughs Wellcome building: Image courtesy of the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, photograph by G. E. Kidder Smith; Boston Government Service Center: photo by Gunnar Klack, via Wikimedia Commons; Burroughs Wellcome building with flag: courtesy of the Wellcome Collection