Earlier this month while visiting New York, I took the enclosed photo of the Met Life Building (originally known, of course, as the Pan Am Building). Actually, it was on the way to LaGuardia Airport going out of town. The reason the image seems distorted is because it was shot through the filter of the bus's tinted window.
Rising above Grand Central Station in the middle of Park Avenue, the building's location alone makes it a monumental piece of architecture. And because it was co-designed by Portland's Pietro Belluschi (along with the great Walter Gropius), I feel on some level a more personal connection to it, even though while I was attending college in New York the skyscrapers of Midtown felt far less human than my home turf in Greenwich Village.
Despite my guarded affinity (it is on the brutal side, after all) for the Pan Am, the building received almost universal derision upon its completion in 1963. After searching on Google for information about the project, I came across a website for Meredith Clausen's book, "The Pan Am Building and the Shattering of the Modernist Dream"....
The Pan Am Building and the reaction to it signaled the end of an era. Begun when the modernist aesthetic and the architectural star system ruled architectural theory and practice, the completed building became a symbol of modernism's fall from grace. In The Pan Am Building and the Shattering of the Modernist Dream, Meredith Clausen (also a Belluschi biographer) tells the story as both history and cautionary tale -- a case study of how not to plan and execute a large-scale urban project that seems especially relevant in light of the World Trade Center and the ongoing discussions over what should be built in its place.
The Pan Am Building was despised by many as soon as the plans were announced in 1958. The star power of the celebrity architects -- those deans of modernism, Walter Gropius and Pietro Belluschi -- overrode critics' objections. When construction was completed in 1963, it became more than an architectural question; this "mute, massive, overscaled octagonal slab," as Clausen describes it, built over Grand Central Terminal, blocked the view down Park Avenue, created deep shadows where there had been sunlight, and poured 25,000 office workers on the sidewalks each morning and evening. As Clausen tells it, the story of the building -- which was undistinguished architecturally but important because of its location and its moment in history -- encompasses the end of modernism's social idealism, the decline of Gropius's and Belluschi's reputations, the victory of private interests over public good, the revival of architectural criticism in the press (both Ada Louise Huxtable and Jane Jacobs emerged as prominent and influential critics), the birth of the historic preservation movement, and the changing culture and politics of New York City.
I'm curious what local architects (and enthusiasts) think of the Pan Am, particularly with the hindsight of history. Forgetting for a moment the previous judgments of this building, how does it look in 2006? I feel like that building's simple forms give it a degree of enduring dignity, especially since this era of modernism yielded some awe-inspiring architecture. But I'm not sure how many others out there would feel the same. Belluschi is revered here, and deservedly so. But what do y'all make of this one?
I speak as an enthusiast; I'm not an architect. But I do have an opinion.
That kind of simplicity of design--in terms of overall shape, variety of surface elements, and color--does not work on that kind of scale. It lacks mystery and nuance and doesn't reward extensive viewing. A simple structure can be interesting, but often by virtue of it's relation to other things, either built or natural. The Pan Am Building is so huge that it's difficult to claim that it has any significant relationship with surrounding buildings. It comes across as a boring wall. To the extent it inspires awe in anyone, it's a kind of awe, I'd guess, that has more to do with a feeling of being overwhelmed and diminished rather than exalted.
I mean, some huge human-built structures--great cathedrals, the Empire State Building, the Brooklyn Bridge--can make our spirits soar and fill us with regard for human ability and creativity, but others make us feel inconsequential and distressed at the unnaturalness of our environment. I'd put the Pan Am Building in that latter category.
Posted by: Richard | March 09, 2006 at 07:00 PM
Dreadful. That's my review of it. The pseudo-octagonal shape is awkward, feeling less like geometry and more like an over-stuffed cardboard box that is bulging out at the sides. The surface articulation is just enough to shatter the awe which such a monumental structure would otherwise engender, yet far too little to actually be stimulating. Halfway between overwhelment and engagement is irritation, which is what this building accomplishes on a monumental scale. And lastly (not that I couldn't go on at much greater length), that rooftop platform has all the grace of a Tupperware lid.
I'm a fan of tall, monumental buildings, and I think a building on this scale could have worked. If Belluschi had put the same kind of care into this building that he did into the Commonwealth building, then I would probably love it. But as it is, I certainly don't.
Posted by: Nathan Koren | March 10, 2006 at 03:26 PM
To put the PanAm in perspective one needs to look at what the client proposed for the design team: maximum space utilization(the largest square footage building in the world at the time of construction)and a beloved sight corridor permanently removed. Regardless of what critics in its day or today have to say it was by far the best solution to an unpopular proposition. One only has to look at the designs that lost to understand. Anything built on the site was going to be unpopular, Belluschi and Gropius maybe should have not bothered but New York is a better place because of their efforts. It's huge! The tapered angle is sort of genius for tempering the building's scale and, one has to admit, a unique alternative to the standard "box" design of the era. My personal bias aside, it is a uniquely American-big and bold- statement coming just a few years after the tail fins of the '59 Cadillac disappeared.
Posted by: Jeff Belluschi | March 13, 2006 at 12:56 PM
i think its the wrong building in the wrong location. when you view it you see this enormous bulging mass that overwhelms everything around it especially the elegant, well proportioned and beautiful grand central terminal below it as well as the former new york central tower to the north side. i think they should have built a light and slender glass skyscraper that respects the high visability location. i suppose its ok if the alternative was replacing grand central. i never really understood why modernists during that time period were so into brutalism, it seems to go against the very ideas of modernism
Posted by: jon | March 13, 2006 at 06:18 PM
I saw this building as a small child shortly after its completion. It instantly became my favorite skyscraper following everyone's fave the Chrysler building. Simple, clean, and unadorned by artifice, it deserves much more appreciation than many structures that came after it.
Posted by: pat b | July 24, 2008 at 11:07 AM