2(1+3+9=13) = 26

Buildings that have impacted the communities which they serve can be programmatically rejuvenated for continued use.

A community that is made entirely of new built buildings lacks identity and physical evidence of heritage that can bring a community together. Architecture is a cultural and social glue that links the past memories and values with present engagement and future potential activity. Therefore , it is imperative to reconsider older buildings when they have fallen into disuse as an opportunity for education and rehabilitation through new programs rather than always erasing and starting anew.

The reasons to preserve any building can fall under multiple categories including (but not limited to) architectural/technological significance, historical significance, symbolic iconography, communal sentiment, age, cultural evidence, etc. The questions then becomes, what buildings should be saved? The answer to that is not black and white and is therefore never easy, but a community that’s only process is to demolish and rebuild does not consider economic opportunities of old structures or the impact of the inevitable loss of connections with past generations. Architecture is a mirror within which we can see our ancestors and their values and from which each generation can define its own chapter. Relating to older buildings and the memories associated with them helps people in a community create social identity without which the community lacks cohesion and unity. There are many forms of saving buildings, and they all have their pros and cons. There is restoration to a certain era in the building’s history which some people argue can be a false representation of times gone by, but these buildings continue to serve the community strictly within the world of academia as a tool to teach, but not touch. Adaptive reuse, while also arguably negative if it requires major changes to the built form, allows for the building to have a more active role in the community and vice versa. Still the fact remains that not all buildings need be discarded when there is an opportunity to be a physical or psychological reminder of history and communal identity.

Little Red Riding Hood

While my previous methodology focused more on a strict timeline of things to do over the next two semesters, I want to emphasize that there is still flexibility and room for exploration (in moderation) within my thesis. The topic of historic preservation which is the main focus of my thesis has many different avenues and subjects within itself. I could easily become completely overwhelmed with reading, precedent studies, etc. What I need to do is allow myself to travel down some of these paths but always try to find a way to bring myself back to the task at hand. While tangents can be exciting in the journey and possibly helpful in the discovery, too much straying from the path leads only to confusion, loss of precious time and exasperation.

A Tragedy in the Making

The vote came in. Unanimous. Demolition. No explanation.

Read the following article. I know I'm a few days behind getting my thoughts out.

http://www.wpxi.com/news/24727133/detail.html

How can Pittsburgh allow such an iconic building that has been a memorable asset to the community be fated for a wrecking ball without so much as a bat of an eyelash? I know the arguments have been going on for years - ever since the plans for Consol Energy Center was planned and set in motion. Still, it seems the politicians and stakeholders have had their minds set for a while and aren't willing to listen to other opinions. Why? It's just good business.

If everything goes through as currently planned and the building is demolished to make way for a surface parking lot, that is a slap in the face for Pittsburgh. I know you need the parking but there are other ways to manage that other than sacrificing an icon so you can park your SUV.

I'm not saying that architects are always right, or that people should always take our opinions and put them into action all the time, but seriously now this is a time to pay attention and take note. The public may call the building ugly; I argue that it's uniqueness makes it beautiful amongst the many glass skyscrapers.

The public may be split on the issue as well, but I feel that just the fact that there is such a heavily debated argument shows just how important the building is and having a vote last less than a minute is absurd.

The new arena has more seating, which means more people can enjoy the Penguins games (read into this...more money in ticket sales), but what makes this new arena special? Architecturally I could walk by that building a thousand times and never think that something special like a professional hockey game or a concert was going to go on in there. It looks like a home depot with an American Eagle main entrance. I would almost think I could go shopping for shoes and tile backsplash for my kitchen in there and would be sadly disappointed.

When I first came to Pittsburgh I heard people talk about the Igloo, the Mellon Arena. I thought where is this elusive building? One simple bus ride (not intentionally looking for it) and I knew what all the hype was about. That's how unique the building is. How much of a landmark it is. If someone said "Go to the Consol Center" you would be hard pressed to find it with such ease. The new arena is really not an upgrade.

I just don't get it Pittsburgh. I really think this will be something that the city will regret, and honestly I had considered staying in Pittsburgh after graduation but if the city can't recognize and appreciate something so utterly Pittsburgh-ish then I don't think I want to stay in a place that is having such an identity crisis that it would sacrifice something so important for something so mundane.

More thoughts to come when I'm not sleep deprived and word vomiting.

Plan of Attack

1+3+9=Unlucky #13

Architecture that has social, cultural and/or historic significance has the potential to continue to contribute to its context for generations after its initial “lifetime” has ended.

A wonderful characteristic about architecture is its ability to survive when given new life structurally and programmatically. Unlike humans, a building can continue to function with proper maintenance and contribution to human use long after the initial lifespan. It is therefore my firm belief that not all buildings that have been rendered useless, especially those that have significance to architectural history, social history or communal memory, should be destined for a wrecking ball when the potential is there for betterment through adaptive reuse or other preservation methods.

I’ve heard many times the idea that architects design a building to last for the next, on average, thirty years, but I don’t see why any building should be given a time stamp when there are so many examples of buildings (considered both significant and not) that have withstood this timetable. There are also examples of buildings that were never given such a short life prediction that are still standing and others who never made it close to their anticipated expiration, which leads me to question the validity of building life spans. When a building has reached “the end” I beg to differ. There is always the potential of saving, but then the question becomes when is a building worth saving and when would it be best to let it be destroyed to make way for something new, (possibly) better, and (possibly) different? An obvious choice in my mind of buildings that are worth saving would include those that are historically significant to either the profession of architecture due to its unique and innovative design/construction/etc or significant to the collective memory of the community (either positively or negatively or both). When there is a negative impact on the community the argument to save becomes even harder, but I also feel that it can potentially be more important to save a negative example as a way to teach future generations not just about how that specific building failed, but also to showcase how much of a social impact architecture can have and how a building that was once a scar on communal memory can strive to remedy past afflictions rather than just admitting defeat. In this consideration buildings are more than just places to inhabit and use, but they are stories and insights to our past with potential to teach the future. Every building has a story to tell about the people who designed it, built it, used it, abhorred it, loved it, etc. and it is necessary to preserve these stories while also creating new ones. Therefore I am determined in my thesis to be a doctor of architecture and remedy, revive, and restore a building that has potential for rejuvenation and rehabilitation to continue to serve its community for many more years to come.