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Volume 3, Issue 18
August 30 - September 12, 2001
ART
ARCHITECTURE APOCALYPSE NOW
Forget the bad, let's just get to the good and
the ugly.
photos by sean hartgrove
The bad news only gets worse. Every week it seems, another building that
contributed to the beauty of the built environment is razed in favor of
schlock.
We've recently given (or all but given) the death sentence to I. M. Pei's
Zeckendorf Plaza, Temple Buell's Denver Post and Sears buildings, and now Currigan Hall
and Skyline Park. Why are we trading diamonds for rhinestones? As Denver
planners steamroll forward, let us pause and consider a brief list of buildings, good and
bad, and the consequences of not differentiating between them.
LIBRARIES
The Good: Ross-Broadway Public Library at 55 E. Bayaud is an
architectural
gem designed in 1952 by Victor Hornbein. With its flat roof, low profile,
cubic volume, and grid-based ornament, Ross-Broadway is a fine example of
Usonian Style (short for United States of North American), a fully American
style popularized by Frank Lloyd Wright. Some of Hornbein's other gifts to the Queen
City include the graceful (Usonian) Botanic Gardens' Boettcher Memorial
Conservatory (1966), the only conservatory in the United States made of
cast-in-place concrete.
The Ugly: Penrose Library on University of Denver's main campus at 2150
E. Evans stands out for its complete lack of style. As it is approached, it looks
like a huge cinderblock. Fortunately for DU, Penrose's homeliness is unique on this
campus. This library reminds me of nothing so much as a prison.
HOTELS
The Good: The Brown Palace Hotel, at 321 17th St., is an Italian
Renaissance
style pearl designed by Frank E. Edbrooke. Opened in 1892, it remains a
great and graceful lady who wears her size well and revels in her adornment. And
its triangular shape is not only memorable, but thoughtfully allows daylight to
visit each room.
The Ugly: Holiday Inn at E-470 and Ken Caryl shocks the unprepared driver
with its unabashed pink stucco nakedness, a big square shorn sheep. Two things make
this sad building's existence even sadder: 1) it is only one of many ugly pink
stuccoites here (see Die Pinkos below), and 2) it almost makes the rest of the nauseatingly
tasteless sub-suburbs look good.
CHURCHES
The Good: My heart's choice is the ethereal Air Force Academy chapel, but
of course that's in the Springs. Trinity United Methodist Church at 18th and
Broadway is also real nice. No, that's an understatement. Built in 1888, this
Modern Gothic building is almost the Platonic ideal of Church. Whenever I pass
by, I'm tempted to sing Hosanna.
The Ugly: Grace Chapel near the intersection of C-470 and I-25 is, to
make a really bad pun, God-awful. It is most definitely not graceful, nor is it a
chapel, which sounds diminutive and quaint. It is just another grotesque stucco behemoth
that tempts me to break the Second Commandment.
RETAIL STORES
The Good: The Sears Store in Cherry Creek, designed by Temple Buell
in 1954, still stands ... sort of. It has, of course, been compromised. Before its recent
"facelift," it had something almost unfathomable for a modern department store: style. Buell
designed a sleek brick and stone composition spiced with extras like sexy metal
trim. It's too bad that, instead of inspiring other retailers to better design,
it was instead brought down to same level of mediocrity.
The Ugly: Big ! Lots at Broadway and 1st Ave. Okay, maybe it's not fair
to expect this bastion of cheap goods to be well designed. But it is fair to point out its
hideous, blank boxiness, capped off with a corrugated metal (!) roof, as the
ultimate nightmare in retail architecture. It makes the nearby Broadway Marketplace look
refined.
BARS
The Good: Forget trendy. The Cruise Room inside the Oxford Hotel
(1600 17th Street), which opened the day after the repeal of prohibition, is still where it's
at. The Oxford was designed by Frank Edbrooke in 1891, just before he did the Brown
Palace, and was remodeled by Charles Jaka in 1933 into an Art Deco showstopper.
Modeled after a lounge on the Queen Mary, The Cruise Room has retained its
chrome, its neon, its panache. Sipping a drink, enveloped by the room's red
glow, I am Veronica Lake.
The Ugly: Putting Green Pub at 7785 W. Colfax Ave. is, well, very green.
Green enough to keep me away. A big green
metal, uh, barn? I have been in my share of ratty drinking establishments, such
as Guido's Nickel, just down the street at Colfax and Hoyt. Ratty and tacky can be
fun. But there's just something unappealing about imbibing, much less eating,
in a place that looks like a Tuff Shed.
WELLS FARGO FINANCIAL SERVICES
The Good: Philip Johnson's 52-storey "Cash Register" building (1983) is perhaps
the most recognizable silhouette on Denver's skyline. Originally called United
Bank Tower, now Wells Fargo Center, the skyscraper's personable curved
crown lends it its more familiar nickname. Its stateliness is enhanced by a surface
that alternately reflects and glows with the abundant Colorado sunshine. This is the
kind of imposing, but still classy, building money should buy.
The Ugly: Maybe to make up for having such a nice building downtown, Wells
Fargo put an ATM in one of the hands-down worst warts around. Located at 733
Santa Fe, American Family Insurance is-- surprise-- pink stucco that's
about five feet thick. Why on Earth do people think this looks good? Santa Fe is guilty of
more stucco per linear foot than anywhere else I visited. What a crime; perfectly
nice bricks slathered in gritty stuff that looks like barf. And it's insulting to pretend
that after/under-thought stucco gives an appro-priate ethnic look to this
predominately Hispanic neighborhood. Stucco is cheap and that's why it's there.
DIE PINKOS!
So, you will have noticed, there are a frightening number of pink stucco
beasties around town. Two of the most offensive squat like awful bookends on far sides of
Colfax: appropriately Pepto Bismol colored Casa Bonita (6715 W. Colfax)
and casa Blair Realty (4400 E. Colfax). In between? Mostly Stucco Blah style
shopettes. --Kimberly MacArthur Graham
DRIVEN TO ABSTRACTION @
ROBISCHON GALLERY
1740 Wazee Street
303-298-7788
Through September 12
Report and Answer, the current show at the Robischon Gallery,
takes an intelligent and expansive look at contemporary abstraction. This
exhibit comes up with a slew of winners among very few
false notes.
Always a delight are the creations of Brad
Miller. "North," an acrobatic wall-mounted
piece, features the elegant ceramic
forms and earth-inspired textures for
which this master ceramics artist is best
known. Miller also works in wood, as
exampled by "Uno," a collection of
branches intermeshed
together and then
smoothed and shaped to
create an oval that
measures well above
knee-high, like a mysterious
tree-hatching
egg.
With a memory of muscular
mixed media installations associated
with Judy Pfaff, it's a treat to see two-dimensional
expressions of this artist's
complicated visual concerns. "Oxygen"
and "Untitled," both hefty works, sport
everything from paper collage to dried
leaves and branches, somehow condensing
Pfaff's room-sized complexities into
contained wall-hung artworks.
Less complex and more visually pleasing
to this eye are Trine Bumiller's paintings.
Bumiller's horizontal rectangle of canvas
is divided into two adjacent squares; each
square then takes on disparate but somehow
complimentary images. "Flight
Pattern" juxtaposes river-like tributaries
with a scattering of faint stars; in
"Watermark," green waterlily pad-shapes
float on a blue field that abuts a maze of
branchy meanderings. Bumiller's treatments
are loose and non-specific, letting
the viewer's eye impose identification
and meaning onto the sense of balance
and serenity she's already created.
Mario Reis' "Nature Watercolors"
eschew standard media for direct contact
with Mother Earth. Reis lays his stretched
cotton canvas flat into a wilderness
stream bed. There it remains, possibly for
several days, while water rises and falls
over the cloth, depositing soil sediment,
bits of plant matter and the imprint of the
water-currents themselves. The artist then
carefully removes canvas from creek, sun
dries the fabric and stabilizes the collected
materia with a fixative that's invisible
from the front, so all we see is an undulating
layer of sand.
For display, the three-feet-square canvases
are off their stretcher-boards and
tacked directly to the wall. Robischon
shows six pieces and they read as a
hybrid of Color Field painting and conceptual
art. Color is subtle but distinct,
and all the canvases are signed with dates
and locations. The Jemez Mountains,
Uncompahgre National Forest and other
locales look radically different from this
angle, but some spirit of each site carries
through. There's an implicit sense of
magical invocation in going so directly to
the earth as a source. Not the first artist to
work in this manner-- Michelle Stuart is a
notable predecessor--
Reis makes a good job
of it. The "Natural
Watercolors" are
breathtaking.
Painter Gary Komarin
checks in stroke-for-stroke
with exactly
what I was whining
about elsewhere a
few issues ago, so
let's just take it verbatim: "This style
seems damn near contagious ... ovals of
color ... painted with a casual hand, as if
the brush is barely under control ... thankless
palette ... Philip Guston's sense of
color ..." is there an evil MFA program
somewhere instigating this stuff?
Conversely, right nearby are two terrific
new paintings from Mark Villarreal,
"Gabriel" and "Dalit." While they also
sport some ovals and a casual-looking
hand, Villarreal's superb sense of color
and composition carry the day. Tension
and release, balance, rich tones, evocative
blues offsetting punchy whites with plenty
of bright grace notes ... look at these
beauties, then glance back at Komarin's.
Worlds apart.
Paintings by Sam Scott (happy chaos),
painting/ drawing combos from Udo
Noger (mysterious swathing) and ceramic
sculptures from Scott Chamberlain
(bedpan? urinal?), along with others,
round out the admirable range of work in
the exhibit.
--Renna Shesso
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