from alumni about campus architecture and Demetri Porphyrios
January 17, 2003
I have kept the issue of December 18 in plain sight
for a month so that I could
share the front cover with friends and look at it myself repeatedly,
hoping that familiarity would ease the dismay and confusion produced by
the Gehry library rendi- tions. The funds are apparently available, and
the library will probably be built since trustees have approved the design.
While I applaud the departure
from Tudor Gothic, fondly as graduates remember it, I do not believe that
this fantasy of metal and glass is going to wear well either aesthetically
or physically. It strikes me as cold and uninviting. And where is rainwater
meant to go after it plummets down those towers and sheer metal roof plates?
The cost of gutter and underground conduit construction and maintenance
in the years ahead could well be staggering. Is there no hope for second
The first thing I associate with Princeton University is the phrase I
heard at a commencement: "Welcome to the society of learned men."
The best thing about Fred Bernstein's PAW
cover article on Whitman and the science library was evident immediately:
the likely fierce debate it would spark amongst "stakeholders"
in the value of the university heritage. The danger: corruption into sniping
about legacy instead of examining support of heritage. Holding my breath,
I dove in.
Soon after, the virtual debate in PAW letters online was largely crystallized
for me by contrasting Fred Pettit '58 invoking pastoral
and spiritual ambience with Jim Moses '88 posing
the issue of "idiom."
And so the question of the heritage value was staged: How is the Princeton
promise of learning and service (L&S) best marketed in the future?
As provided by "inner peace" versus by highly interactive infrastructure,
are the inspirations for learning and service (L&S) fundamentally
different in effect or in effectiveness? What difference is significant?
As we know, rhetoric is basic to persuasion. And the design rhetoric of
different building styles should be held accountable to the mission of
the building. But since buildings have environmental impact, the mission
of the building must be held accountable for that impact, before
the building exists. This clarifies that architecture debate should not
confuse evaluation of the environment and evaluation of the building.
It must find a way to evaluate each and then relate the evaluations.
The relationship that results, if accepted, is what should be paid for
and commissioned. Is that relationship renovative or innovative? Is it
actually supportive of the heritage or mainly celebrating historical conditions?
Of such choices, what is the current need being served, and why now?
If a student looks at a Gehry science building and perceives that building
as a channel to and instrument of her personal functional excellence,
then Gehry has succeeded. But do we know when and how that perception
will develop in the student? First impression? Notably sustained ease
in class? Being forced by any later circumstances to work in a different
facility? What will be the trigger?
Perhaps resource-savvy institutions like Princeton really can take it
for granted that functional excellence will be engineered into its facilities,
and thus by default holds their rendering to some other standard
higher up on the Maslov Hierarchy.
But after using the campus extensively for four years as a resident, student,
laborer, artist, athlete, and as a cochairman of Wilson residential college
('75 and '76), I believe that is simply not true of Princeton in theory,
nor in fact, nor in intent. Meanwhile, in 1975, marketing Wilson College
to other students with my brilliant cochairman Pamela Wesson, and making
Wilson College into the Best Place for Students with my wise faculty supervisor
Norman Itkowitz, was the essential learning and service experience I had
as an undergraduate. And, in 1974, I never saw it coming.
Now let's talk about branding. I get to ask, would a picture of Whitman
College have communicated to me a stronger promise of Princeton's value
than a picture of 1974 Wilson College? The answer: Only if I wanted it
to. Possibly, the things a 15-year-old wants might seem more "naturally"
evident in a Whitman College photo. But in 1974, Holder Hall looked "just
like like Princeton" to me and seemed exciting. What a perfectly
awful place to learn and serve Holder turned out to be. Whereas, the Chapel
and Whig/Clio were great, as were 185 Nassau Street and the museum.
So this is getting to the real point, which is that every building on
a university campus should broadcast opportunity to a student and to the
student's parents or sponsors. Further, it should communicate the distinction
of the opportunity that it offers. In that light, of course a dormitory
and a science building should be different, .
Yet we also know that privilege, stability, standards, and other environmental
conditions are important, even critical, success factors for some kinds
of opportunity if not for all kinds. On a "campus," they can
lend themselves to everything. The idiomatic issues are (a.) whether the
vocabulary for expressing those qualities is understood and desirable
for enough of the university's supporting stakeholders to
agree to continue their support and (b.) whether that vocabulary,
and the stakeholders community, must be homogenous or can be heterogeneous.
This concern is not just one about the difference between alumni from
New York and from Minnesota, or from 1958 and 1988. Here, it is about
looking at the building and understanding what it will mean what
it is worth to the teachers, financial partners, parents, and other
constituents that sustain the level of performance in the university mission.
And so we understand that neither Whitman College nor the Gehry building
is "Princeton's Brand." Rather, they are each recent and ambitious
additions to Princeton's "product" line.
We, the learned men and women of Princeton, are taught that wishful thinking
in the real world derives value from managing complexity. So we bring
that not just to debates but to actual experience and reactions.
By graduating from Princeton, we have forfeited our right to enter $100-million
conversations by checking our brains at the door and bringing in our feelings
disguised in nostalgia or taste. As Lily Tomlin pointed out in The
Search For Signs of Intelligent Life in the Universe, reality is the
leading cause of stress among those who are in touch with it.
It would be easy to project technological progress continuing to march
in a straight line into the future toward ever more complex, more energy-intensive
study requirements. We can guess, however, that life seldom turns out
so simple. In particular, if the information of technology grows more
complex, so will the cause and effect loops, and as they do the outcomes
will become less predictable, resembling the fractals of rapids in a river
more closely than straight lines of progress. If that is so, predicting
the requirements and resources available for study spaces in the new buildings
on campus is uncertain. Since we can't know what will be needed, how the
study rooms are designed is less important than how these buildings may
affect the lives of our descendents for many generations.
Of this we are certain: Construction and operation of buildings account
for something like half of the energy used in the U.S. At the least we
know that our insistent human pressure on the carrying limits of the earth
have begun to bear results e.g., climate change that are
also unforeseeable. So what we can do is to exercise awareness of that
and build with sustainability in mind in order to avoid exacerbating the
Are these buildings to become architectural delights and environmental
disasters? Are the university's architects designing from the past or
toward the future? Since most of us have children and grandchildren and
care about their quality of life as well as our own, these are important
questions for all of us. Either path may include both gothic and modernist
skins; the heart of the matter, though, is whether these buildings will
eat into the earth's carrying capacity or add to it, gain their daily
energy for heating and cooling from the sun or use oil that accumulated
over thousands of years to heat each day.
Here on the West Coast a large number of cities, states and especially
colleges and universities have adopted the National Green Building Council's
LEED standards (Leadership in Energy and Environmental Design), which
call the builder's attention to values such as designing into the project
energy savings from solar heating and natural ventilation, utilizing insulating
window glass and efficient heating systems, and using recycled and natural
materials, locally manufactured to conserve on transportation energy.
Oberlin College has even constructed a classroom building that heats and
air conditions itself naturally and purifies its own waste water with
living plant colonies. Princeton could lead the way in these areas using
just the talent on the faculty. Certainly we should not be lagging behind.
The goal is to create a model of sustainable living for us all
and to think of seven generations to come.
It seems odd that no mention was made in Fred
Bernstein's article about these values. I can not imagine a design
team in our century that does not discuss them, weighing whether or not
to adopt the LEED standards, and reaching some specific conclusions. I
would hope Princeton would aspire to the top LEED rating; I would not
want to imagine Princeton's trustees (let alone Ms. Plater-Zyberk) ignoring
these issues. Could you report on what they considered and decided in
the way of positive environmental construction values? I would like to
hear that Princeton's architects are competing successfully with the likes
of William McDonough, Time magazine's Man of the Century and designer
of the Oberlin building, for leadership in the new wave, building environmentally
from the ground up.
Omigod, authentic Old Fogeydom: writing PAW for the first time!
While I understood that Fred
Bernstein's lively comparison (December 18 2002) between Frank Gehry's
radical design for the library and Demetri Porphyrios's conservative design
for Whitman College emphasized the contrast of two different aesthetic
philosophies, I was struck by what he left unaddressed: Great universities
in the new millennium should make environmental considerations fundamental
to their planning.
The cultural historian Thomas Berry takes to task four institutions still
reluctant to accentuate ecological challenges: corporations, governments,
churches, and universities. May Princeton lead in proving Berry wrong.
By emphasizing the issue of "style" in the
debate over the architectural future of the campus, we are lowering the
level of discussion to an unchallenging plane. As any student of architecture
will know, the style of a building holds less meaning than its intrinsic
qualities of design (how it addresses the site, how it arranges the program,
how it is scaled, and how it either references or rejects precedent, to
name just a few).
By focusing on "style," we are appealing to the lowest common
denominator of a society that is increasingly illiterate in architectural
histor,y and we are failing in the mission to educate, enlighten, and
advance critical thought.
The article, One
Campus, Different Faces, on the new Whitman College being designed
by Demetri Porphyrios *80 and the new science library being designed by
Frank Gehry (December 18, 2002), brings to mind the famous distinction
by C. P. Snow between the humanities and the sciences. The two projects
surely represent that dichotomy.
In an age when the loss of ethics in U.S. society is demonstrated by the
likes of Enron, Worldcom, and other signs of deterioration, and when at
the same time civilization is under siege by unrepresentative adherents
of Islam, collegiate gothic calls to mind the formation of the first universities
in the west and the gothic styles which represent them. Ethics and principle
have been similar since man began to think, and the first universities
centered on those matters. Honesty, civility, recognition of the importance
the other person and the primacy of integrity are values which do not
change. If not always adhered to, they were the same when the first universities
arose in the west in the 12th and 13th centuries.
There was a division of learning then thought to be comprehensive or universal
in regard to knowledge and taught in the "university." Learning
took place in the great medieval faculties of theology, law, medicine
and philosophy (or the humanities). The queen of the "sciences"
was theology, the discipline closest to ethics and integrity. There were
also great centers of learning in such older cities as Baghdad, Cairo,
and Alexandria, a tribute to the culture in those places at the time of
the rise of Islam.
Continuing a section of the campus which expresses the permanence of honesty,
integrity, and other values emphasized by the first western universities
is surely a tribute to Princeton's dedication to these principles. Walter
T. Stace, of the Princeton philosophy department, discussed the purpose
of a university in terms of passing on to succeeding generations the principles
and learning of the past. That process is not "mucking around in
the past." The culture of the past has great meaning today.
The dominant thinking of the 21st and 20th centuries, however, relates
to the natural sciences, engineering, and technology, particularly as
exemplified in the west. Science has been the dominant area of intellectual
development since the 17th century. Gehry's building will express that
atmosphere beautifully without succumbing to the box like fashion that
so much of early modern architecture adopted. Of course, today's students
want buildings that express the contributions to culture of their own
time. Both faculty and students will be exhilarated by the opportunity
to study in a Gehry building, but it should be possible to live and work
in architecture that calls on both the permanent values most of us recognize
and also expresses the soaring ambitions of the sciences and technology.
Science itself depends on honesty and integrity. All of us are enriched
both by the permanent and the changing.
While many fear the dichotomy to which C.P. Snow called attention, there
is no necessary conflict. A modern university can encourage the interaction
of the two kinds of discipline by its architecture as well as by its teaching.
I have long scorned Frank Gehrys work as egotistical messes inspired
by what one finds in the scrap bin of a sheet-metal shop. His proposed
design for the science library, however, displays a pleasing and architectural
organization of forms. Maybe this will be a building of which Princeton
will be proud many years after Mr. Gehrys celebrity status has faded.
Leon Battista Alberti, writing in his magisterial work De Re
Aedificatoria, ten volumes on architecture, admonishes his reader, "Never
let greed for glory impel you to embark rashly on anything that is unusual
or without precedent." What Alberti wrote in 1450 applies with full
force as we contemplate our, for myself unwilling, participation in the
trendy potlatch of a well-meaning donor that is the Gehry-designed library.
While the financial laugh will be on the donor, the last and enduring
laugh will be on the rest of us:after the party is over, the building
will still be there!
It is a little-known fact that high quality traditional architecture is
no more expensive than high quality modern architecture. My guess is that
this is true with the Gehry and Porphyrios buildings.
Another little-known fact is one which was painfully learned recently
by Yale University, when it had to undergo a campus-wide renovation campaign.
It discovered that its 100 year old buildings needed major reconstruction
every 100 years, its 75 buildings needed major reconstruction every 75
years, on down to its 25 year old buildings needing significant rehauls
after only 25 years' time. Almost all of Yale's buildings had to be renovated
at the same time!
Isn't it interesting that initial cost and subsequent maintenance point
to collegiate-gothic as the sensible, practical way to go?
If Princeton has an architectural "tradition," it is one of
displaying examples of the variety of architectural styles that have been
fashionable during its history. Whig, Brown, Alexander, and Blair are
examples of this "tradition," and the campus would be poorer
for the loss of any one of them. Gehry's library, although it may not
stand the "test of time," is a welcome addition to Princeton's
collection of architectural fashions.
A slavish following of a single "traditional style" can have
bad results. Jefferson's Old Campus at the University of Virginia is the
grandest architectural ensemble in America; however, succeeding architects,
fearful of breaking with that "tradition," have surrounded the
Jefferson campus with acres of red-brick mediocrity. (Having said that,
I think Whitman will be the most popular residence on campus.)
I have just received the December 18, 2002, issue of PAW, and read with
particular attention the
article by Fred Bernstein on the new building projects on campus. I
agree completely with the letter in this issue from my fellow alumnus Fred
Pettit. Frank Gehry's monstrosity does not belong on our campus. I have
personally seen his work in Berlin and Prague, and even there it is questionable.
The essence of Mr. Gehry's philosophy, regardless of what spin he puts on
it, appears to be violent, "in your face" self-centered egotism
expressed in brutal architecture that totally disregards its surroundings.
Not only has he no regard for tradition, he clearly does not even subscribe
to the famous Bauhaus dictum of "form follows function."
Universities are both places of innovation and keepers of the flame of historical
values and culture which have withstood the test of time. Intellectual ferment
and stimulation in the class room do NOT require chaotic jumbled architectural
forms for expression witness the many advances made in Europe amidst
a welter of "old buildings." On the contrary, I believe that students
need calm rational surroundings in which to live and consider and think
about the ideas they are receiving and conceiving. Gehry's buildings are
brash garish distractions, hardly conducive to clear thinking and
hardly timeless as well!
Three cheers for Demetri Porphyrios! I only wish Princeton had hired him
While I am always excited to have architecture as a part of the Princeton
discussion, I feel that much of the debate in PAW has been
disappointingly superficial and draped in fuzzy nostalgia.
Lost in the reverie about the collegiate gothic buildings
of our campus is the most critical question: What is it that we all love
about these buildings? Their size and scale? Is it the way one understands
his or her own size relative to them? Is it how they relate to the buildings
around them? The way they enclose exterior space? Their materials? Their
slate-clad sloping roofs? The way their individual windows identify
individual spaces within? Is it the uniqueness of their rooms no
two alike? Or is it just their pointed arches? Of all these questions,
only the last involves a specific architectural style.
While it is difficult to interpret others thoughts,
I believe that the dissatisfaction by alumni with most of the modern
buildings on campus has more to do with these matters than they do with
specific questions of style; the frustration is with the lack of humanism
in the buildings all the other things I ask about. One can (and
should, I believe) try to find the right answers to these questions in
campus design. Further, the issues of Princetons identity, continuity,
and neighborhood coherence are certainly important. I am happy
that the university is addressing these matters; I just wish that the
university did not feel it necessary to do so by having buildings that
are so literally imitations of the past.
Jeffrey D. Peterson 84
By the way, as a matter of disclosure, I was the project
architect for the C. Bernard Shea Rowing Center (Princetons boathouse)
at ARC and now have my own firm in Cambridge.
What Im really espousing is that the university
find some ground between sentimentality for both the past and future,
as might be represented by Porphyrios and Gehry. One of the issues here
may be identity, although "brand"might be a more honest way
of talking about it. The trustees are concerned about being able to "sell"
the university to prospective students and alumni. That body perceives,
apparently correctly, judging from the majority of the letters regarding
the Porphyrios article, that there is a preference among alumni for new
buildings to be built in the neo-Gothic idiom, essentially trying to freeze
the appearance of the university in time somewhere in first half of the
20th century. (This, by the way, neglects a stock of buildings built from
the founding of the institution to the period when neo-Gothic was judged
to be the appropriate "style" for the university.)
The Gehry project represents a sentimentality of another
kind. It is projecting, disingenuously, an image of the future and of
originality. One need only look at the work of architects like Hans Scharoun,
Jorn Utzon, Hugo Haring, and others to see where his architecture derives
from. Gehrys work purports to be radical. But if you look at his
client list, especially of late, it looks like a version of the Fortune
500, not a bunch of longhairs.
What is apparent from these choices is that Princeton
is a wealthy institution capable of paying for either star architects
or buildings constructed using ancient construction techniques. This is
not surprising. Most of the Ivy League schools do it. We can, therefore
The middle ground Im proposing is not eclecticism,
although that might be a by-product. Im suggesting that the campus
might be understood as a small city. Cities, by and large, are not built
in a singular architectural vocabulary. Cities accrete. They are built
over time, organically, responding to urgencies of life. Many of these
kinds of cities are coherent, leave a legacy, have an identity, and are
beautiful. Were this process administered thoughtfully, which I think
it has been for most of Jon Hlafters tenure, these qualities would
be inevitable. Lourie-Love Hall, Spelman Hall, Feinberg Hall, and Wallace
Hall, to span four decades of campus construction, are all equally Princeton,
although they may not be your cup of tea. See Stevens, Thirteen
Ways of Looking At A Blackbird.
This is in response to the letter of
Jim Moses 88 complaining about the selection of architect for
the new Whitman College and espousing, as best as I can decipher, architectural
eclecticism based on periodic styles. Something like, the campus as an
The response is simple, Jim. Nope. Gothic is better.
And it is not a case of sentimentality as you suggest. It has to do with
a sense of institutional coherence, legacy, identity, and, I must say,
beauty. See Keats, "Ode on a Grecian Urn".
Catesby Leigh's treatment of Princeton architecture
in your May 1999 issue was more than a survey. It was an attack on
the modernist buildings erected on the campus since WWII and a devastating
contrast between these and those in the collegiate-gothic style. The latter
not only give the campus its character, but the former were described
as insensitive to their context and in many cases feeble even within the
modernist vein. It could be surmised that this article strongly influenced
the choice of Demetri Porphyrios as the architect for Whitman College.
If that is so then Mr. Leigh is to be thanked, for there is indeed no
reason why buildings in the collegiate-gothic style should not continue
to be built at Princeton. Or in other appropriate styles. Even though
Mr. Porphyrios says that classicism (and presumably gothic) is not a style,
but rather a question of basic structural methods, that would still not
change our support for an architect who tries to bring a traditional architectural
idiom into a comfortable alliance with this present time and place. As
opposed to staking all on some newly original conceit or the only too
apparent bottom line.
It is just here that Mr.Leigh continues to be strict, counseling the architect
to strive for a more decorated, and thus a more authentic, gothic style
in his Whitman College proposal rather than the stripped down (and somewhat
Byzantine) version in Grove Quadrangle, Oxford. But that is not to be.
Closer examination suggests that Demetri Porphyrios is a post-modernist
architect too. The balance is tipped more than usually toward the character
and structure of the model, yet the choices and the combinations reflect
a personality just as much as do the independentist buildings of Robert
Venturi. In choosing him, Princeton has chosen both a stylist comfortable
with its great gothic tradition and one confident enough to express himself
While reading the October 9, 2002, issue, I was encouraged and disheartened
by evidence of a desire to return Princeton to the way it was 50 years
The article on Whitman
College architect Demetri Porphyrios *80 demonstrated that Princeton
has finally "got it." For years, Princeton has experimented
with cold, harsh, modernistic buildings, designed by architects whose
names are more impressive than their work. These buildings threaten Princeton's
beautiful collegiate Gothic identity. Thank God Princeton has found an
architect like Porphyrios who believes in high-quality, classic yet simple
buildings designed to age gracefully!
On the other hand, I was greatly disheartened by the letters of Houghton
Hutcheson '68, William Chaires '75 and Geoffrey N. Smith '61. These alumni
seem to fear any change at all. It seems to me that they are the ones
distracted from the reality of Princeton today: dedicated faculty, scholarly
students, cutting-edge research and loyal alumni. Mr.
Hutcheson's letter also suffers from exaggeration and misrepresentation.
From past letters and articles in this magazine, we
know that Professor Peter Singer does not simply advocate infanticide.
Instead, his arguments encourage thought and debate about moral conventions.
As much as I may share Mr. Hutcheson's dismay at the re-hiring of Cornel
West, I doubt that he was embarking on a "rap music career"
by producing one "spoken word CD." Mr. Hutcheson's description
of the unfortunate Yale admissions incident as "hacking" is
inaccurate and exaggerated. Most disturbing is Mr. Hutcheson's objection
to President Tilghman on the grounds of atheism. How does religious affiliation
affect her ability to perform the duties of president of the university?
She has demonstrated great capability and leadership in a difficult year.
As a scientist and academic, she is dedicated to education, research and
the pursuit of knowledge. Princeton is not a seminary. In what way have
her personal religious beliefs or disbeliefs damaged the university? Has
she destroyed the chapel? Has she eliminated the dean of religious life?
Has she banned services from the chapel? That Mr. Hutcheson has chosen
to dwell on these exaggerated and misguided points and that he believes
them to be representative of Princeton is what is truly sad.
Finally, I would like to ask Geoffrey
N. Smith '61 and Hugh M. F. Lewis
'41 who are upset that Princeton is slowly morphing into a female
university for some facts. What percentage of "key academic
positions" do women now hold? Of students, administrators, faculty,
and deans, what percentage are women? How many total appointments to key
academic positions has President Tilghman made? Perhaps before they become
"angry dinosaurs" they should find out whether the imagined
female tidal wave represents campus reality.
Why was it necessary for Oxford and Cambridge to discover Porphyrios before
Princeton did? After all, he graduated from our own architecture school!
And did many acclaimed works during the 80s and 90s, while
we were building incongruous new thinks."
While Porphyrios was pouring out one gem of continuity with the past after
another, Princeton was whirling around in the edifice complexes of its
hired gun, new edge architects, all of whom have systematically ignored
the university's rich, classically inspired traditions.
Perhaps we could get Porphyrios to redo the post50s additions
to the campus, starting with von Neuman, then the art museum /art and
architecture school addition, etc., etc.
We don't need any Gehrys. Forget the southeast end of the campus as so
graciously proposed by Catesby Leigh (he must despise all the post-40s
desecration of our campus.) I can't wait for the next Gehry building in
mid-town Berlin, Reykjavik, Tampa, Houston, or Salt Lake City. But please
spare us from him on what is left of our majestic, humanistic campus.
Perhaps Gehry could do something really exciting on one of the Route 1
industrial park plots?
We should not further extend our jumble of monuments to recent architectural
"egos." Princeton's world-renowned pastoral and spiritual ambience
has been eroded far too much already. No more, please! Over the recent
decades, the unspoken but politically correct intention has been to make
Princeton more modern and agnostic (less gothic and religious) and, in
the process, more egalitarian and less elitist. But does egalitarianism
have to equal ugly? Does it demand lack of respect for our rich and inspired
Have you noticed where advertisements are shot on the campus? Why does
Blair Arch show up so often rather than shots from in front of our ghastly,
new and nihilistic buildings?
As Prince Charles said about two decades ago, with useful effect, regarding
the proposed addition to the National Gallery on Trafalgar Square, it
was unnecessary to burden this building and its prominent location with
a modern, glass, concrete and chrome "carbuncle." The revised
and executed design is an excellent example of cooperation between tradition
and modernism, just as everything that Porphyrios has done for the last
Its disappointing to read,
in its choice of the architect for Whitman College, that the Board
of Trustees appears to be basing its decisions regarding the future of
the campus fabric on a perceived sentimentality among alumni. Having spent
three of my four years living in post-1960s' quarters (Wilson College
and Spelman), I can tell you I feel no longing or regret.
When was the line in the sand drawn between the so-called
historic and the post-1960s' zones? The campus
has always felt more continuous, like a laboratory of some of the more
rigorous architectural thinking from each cultural period,
than such an arbitrary division would imply. Indeed, I wonder if that
is one aspect of the university that attracts many prospective students.
This newfound division strikes me as being akin to Elizabeth Plater-Zyberk
72s desire, evident in the work of her practice, for a tidy,
legible environment, one that harks back to a mythic (read fictional)
past. Isnt a bit of messiness much more interesting and vital? Take
a look inside some of our Nobel laureates offices.
I applaud the commitment to durable construction methods.
(This seems especially critical when one is discussing dorm life.) Picturesque
siting seems appropriate to the broader context of the campus. Pitched
roofs make sense. All of these, and other characteristics of Porphyrioss
espoused principles, feel appropriate. Must we resort, however, to a particular,
essentially predetermined idiom, as implied by the decision to engage
Porphyrios? Shouldnt the history of architecture be considered something
more than a catalogue of styles? Our culture has seen vertiginous
change since the teens, when much of the neo-Gothic fabric was built.
Id venture that most of that change has been positive. On Princetons
campus of the teens, I doubt wed have found a building, much less
a collection of them, named for an alumna/CEO/billionaire.