Flashback 1998: Architecture often soars in spite of its occupants

      On Friday, I made what turned out to be an unnecessary plug for the Aug. 21 Chicago River boat tour I'm conducting with our architecture critic, Lee Bey. A commenter referred to the mistaken information often given out on such tours and I mentioned once calling up Chicago architectural icon Adrian Smith and running some of the patter by him. Which led me back to this chestnut. I was confident about my familiarity with river tours because editor Nigel Wade had tasked me that summer to go on ALL of them.
    If Jenny Jones and Jerry Springer don't ring a bell — thank you, grindstones of oblivion, you do some good work — they were bottom-dwelling talk shows mining human misery for ratings points.  Adrian Smith went on to design the Trump International Hotel and the Jeddah Tower in Saudi Arabia, and, as far as I know, is still going strong at 80.  I fired off a note to his firm, Adrian Smith + Gordon Gill, suggesting its time to check in again. Not holding my breath, but I'll let you know if something develops.

     I imagine, between now and the 21st, you'll see a lot of architecture as I prep for my 90 minutes going mano-a-mano with Lee Bey. Your indulgence, as always, is appreciated.

NBC Tower

     Every few minutes, every day, one of the dozens of boats, or buses, giving those popular architectural tours of Chicago floats or drives by the soaring art deco edifice of NBC Tower.
     Every single time — I can confidently state, having taken about a dozen such tours recently — the guide gestures to the building, located on a plaza east of Michigan Avenue just north of the river, and says something like: "And here is NBC Tower, home to Jenny Jones and Jerry Springer."
     A few of the guides left off Springer, in deference to his split with NBC. But Jones was cited every time, as if her name were on the building. The discordant clank of that pairing has been sounding in my head ever since. I happen to particularly love NBC Tower. I remember the moment I first saw it, half constructed, peeking out between the gothic monstrosity of the Tribune Tower and the generic glass box of the Equitable Building. My knees got weak. That's a cliche, but in this case it is the absolute truth. I thought I was going to kowtow.
     "NBC Tower, home to Jenny Jones and Jerry Springer."
     Forget about the specific programs; enough dirt has been heaped on Jones and Springer. But finding their atrocity, so consistently, used as the tail that wags the building they fester in, led to an intriguing question: Why does architecture soar so high above the rest of the creative arts? It isn't just NBC Tower. Many buildings dwarf the enterprises within them. Is any cutesy brand mascot churned out by Leo Burnett as impressive as the lofty grey building the company occupies? Is there an artwork in the lobby of the classical, pristine Donnelly Building that adds to, instead of distracts from, its setting?
     What does architecture have going for it? Why can't you walk through the Museum of Contemporary Art or flip through the TV channels, or browse through a bookstore, and find the kind of steady series of complete, soul-stirring creations that you can see just by strolling along Wacker Drive?
     I put the question to Adrian D. Smith, the partner at Skidmore, Owings & Merrill who designed NBC Tower. He laughed and laughed. Then he said:
     "Architecture first of all is an art, but it's not only an art. It's also a science; it also deals very heavily with urban planning. It has to have a functional quality to it."
     Smith talked about how NBC Tower was carefully crafted to fit in and complement the classic Chicago buildings around it.
     "I want my buildings to feel connected to the city and add to the fabric of the city and to the quality of public urban spaces they are creating," he said.
     He suggested, modestly, that I was overestimating the craft of architects by focusing on outstanding exceptions such as NBC Tower. He said that "easily 50 and probably 70 to 80 percent" of what gets put up is not architecture at all, but merely "building."
     Smith wouldn't condemn specific designs — architecture is one of the more politic professions — though some of his dismissals were gloriously oblique. He called the Equitable Building "a reasonable example of modern commercial architecture of its time." When I asked him if the addition he is designing for the 311 S. Wacker Building will be capped with anything near that building's giant blazing white water tank blinding those unfortunate enough to gaze upon it at night, he said, "The top will be lit, subtly. Yes. Much more subtly."
     Smith said that good architecture should have "a delightful quality" to it, and that such a quality is reached, not only by caring how your building will be received, but by plain old-fashioned mental labor.
     "When architecture reaches a high art, it has an incredible amount of thought that goes into it," Smith said, adding that nearly a dozen people worked two years to design NBC Tower.
     But caring and hard work can't be enough. Plenty of lousy TV shows were assembled through the intense efforts of people desperate to succeed. I asked Smith what his role, personally, was in the design of NBC Tower.
     "I established the basic concept of the building," said Smith, 53. "I worked with a team of architects at SOM, and I led the team. My responsibility is the way the building finally looks. Sometimes I'm the editor of ideas. Sometimes the generator of ideas. Sometimes the director of ideas."
     The phrase "my responsibility" sticks out. That probably explains the difference right there. Remember how Jones came off during the trial of that guest of hers who murdered another guest? As a confused bystander barely involved with the workings of her own show. How Springer admitted his own program is unwatchable? Maybe knowing that something you're doing is going to cost $100 million and last for a century inspires a person to reach for the stars.
     Wouldn't it be something if people approached more endeavors — more TV shows, more books, more paintings — with the same sense of responsibility, the same expectation of permanence, the same yearning after greatness?

        — Originally published in the Sun-Times, July 5, 1998