Washington University: Campus architectural plans are produced by copy machine
By David Bonetti
POST-DISPATCH VISUAL ARTS CRITIC
08/13/2006
In 2004, Washington University erected a bronze statue of George Washington in front of the recently renovated Olin Library. The nation's first president is, of course, the university's namesake, and there was no other statue of him on campus.
The original marble statue was made by French sculptor Jean-Antoine Houdon in 1788 and installed in the rotunda of the Virginia Capitol in 1796. Thomas Jefferson and Benjamin Franklin had recommended him to the state Legislature as "the best sculptor in the world."
The university's version is a copy, cast in 2003 from a mold of the original.
Sculptures often are cast in edition. But you don't have to be Walter Benjamin - a German theorist who wrote about how a work of art's aura is eroded by reproduction - to understand how endless reproduction devalues the original.
The university could have commemorated Washington in other ways. It could have commissioned a new work. Because Washington exists in our consciousness more as an idea than as a man, it could have represented his ideas rather than his appearance.
But maybe Washington University prefers the copy.
The university's recent demolition of Prince Hall and its policy of commissioning historicist structures on its Hilltop campus for the past 30 years strengthen that suspicion. Prince Hall was one of the first six buildings erected on its new campus; the cornerstone was laid in 1901. The campus was designated a National Historic Landmark in 1987 on the basis of those six buildings.
The university understands the value that the stylistically uniform campus presents. Fred Volkmann, vice chancellor for public affairs, said much of its success in attracting top students is because they see it as the campus ideal.
The university has spent considerable money renovating the other five original buildings, built from 1900 to 1904, and other pre-World War I structures such as Graham Chapel. But Prince Hall proved, in the university's estimation, difficult to adapt, especially as a student union, which is what it wanted on the site.
So why not replace it with a facsimile, a 2007 Collegiate Gothic-style building so suavely constructed that no entering freshman would notice anything wrong? The idea is so Baudrillardian, or hyperreal, it makes your head swim.
At the same time, the university needs parking and wants to get rid of surface lots, which ruin the image of cloistered Anglo-Saxon academia. So it is building a 530-car garage under the new University Center, an engineering feat that would have been impossible if Prince Hall had remained. Volkmann said the underground garage idea came after the decision to demolish Prince Hall.
But how can the university tear down an original - one of six buildings responsible for its image and appeal - replace it with a copy and have no one notice, except a couple of architecture professors and antiquarian cranks?
It's because the university has gotten away with that before. The Hilltop campus might represent an ideal, but many of its structures are ersatz copies of what was built at the turn of the last century.
Back to Jean Baudrillard, one of the late-20th-century French cultural theorists who profoundly affected how we look at and think about the world. He wrote about how the copy replaces the original, a highly fictionalized existence he termed hyperreality.
So, Disneyland's Main Street better represents Main Street than Main Street itself; Las Vegas casinos better represent Paris, New York or Venice than those cities; the new Times Square better represents the idea of Times Square than the real Times Square that was destroyed.
Read More...