February 6, 2002
Charles Mortimer

After several hours of exhaustive Internet research, I have concluded that there are not any online photographs available for The Bronx Developmental Center. This might come as some surprise to architects who are aware that this building, designed and built between 1970-1977, was deemed by New York Times architecture critic, Ada Louise Huxtable, "the cynosure of the architectural world."

As the focal point for admiration in the architecture world, way back in the 1970's, this building represented the fashionable whim of the times; but as such we should not expect that it would automatically become triumphantly represented in the digital ether of the Internet - a media borne long after the tangible news print carried Huxtable's admiring words. And yet, the New York Times also reports that the AIA guide to New York City lists this building as, "A consummate work of architecture, it is among the great complexes of its time." The AIA is certainly entitled to its opinion.

So how "consummate" a work is it? Well, a google search for "The Bronx Developmental Center," identifies several picture-less articles about the building, and even turns up references to the architect, Richard Meier. However, the first link listed in the search engine carries an article which discusses the untimely death of one of the residents of this mental facility, in September 1981. Not exactly priority marketing for a "cynosure" work of architecture.

So, you're asking, why all the attention paid to the presence [or lack thereof] of the photo of this building on the Internet? Well, that's a very good question. As a public information media of a relatively young age, the Internet can [and does] highlight even the most benign and myopic of subjects. So with its breadth of information, displayed in all kinds of beautiful and misguided ways, we would expect at least one visual image of a work of architecture that is so highly touted - but we get everything except the image we are looking for. In fact, we are even able to find the image below, which is more similar to the facade of the building than it is different.

The New York Times reported last week that The Bronx Developmental Center, "is being partly demolished, significantly changed and expanded by its new owner... Joseph Simone." One should not wonder, as architectural critics did last week, "How could this happen?" It's sale and renovation should really come as no surprise at all. That almost 30 years later, a building built in the latter half of this century, would fail to capture the attention of anyone other than a real estate developer and a few gray haired architects, reveals what we already know about our fast-food culture: Things are only as interesting as they are new and unique.

Ironically, this truism was also in operation at precisely the time this building was initially constructed; in fact, without making any value judgement, this truism is the cornerstone of American culture. The 1970's American society which erected this building was already disenfranchised with the philosophical and sociopolitical musings of the Modernist project in which Rich Meier's rational building is so firmly rooted; but they were not immune to the fashionable cloak of the Avante Garde under which the Architect of this period created this building.

The knee-jerk reaction illustrated by Rich Meier's good friend Bob Stern, in his statement to the New York Times, illustrates his unwillingness to accept the short attention span of the modern American consumer culture. "He called the news, 'a shocker.' Saying he felt as if he were losing a familiar acquaintance. 'And my God, we've lost the trade center,' he said. 'This is a monument of exactly the same period. This is serious.'

Yes, the loss of the trade center was serious. But Bob cannot reasonably expect us to be moved by his comparison of that loss to the renovation of an outdated and dilapidated building in the Bronx. But still, we must take seriously the personal loss he feels; and we must also highlight the hypocrisy of this position.

As part of a generation of architects so eager to engage the novel capitalist whims of developers and the fashionable Zeitgeist of the American public [under the guise of a long outdated rational Modernist project, robbed of its socio-political underpinnings decades before] he and his cohorts prolifically created architectural expressions to satisfy their suitors needs - and to feed their own insatiable egos. Architects like Bob Stern and Rich Meier are so proud of the society and economy that supports their flash-in-the-pan design creations, and yet they find it appalling that such a throw away society would also change it's mind and destroy, as effortlessly and quickly as it creates.

Rich Meier's comments on the situation [and where he was when he made them] illuminate that perspective only too well. The New York Times reports that he stated, "I hope that what he's replacing it with has the quality of what we built there." And he followed up with, "It's interesting to me that they never come back to the original architect." He said these to things while he was attending the World Economic Forum in Manhattan; of course.

That the same feverish development can create a "consummate work of architecture" and also require that the developer [Joseph Simone] to hail it's demise as quoted from the New York Times, as "The biggest thing to hit the Bronx in decades," reveals the place that art and architecture have been relegated to in this Capitalist consumer culture.

And for Rich Meier to claim to be above such a delinquent system and not also fully acknowledge his status as an architectural commodity reveals either an underlying hypocrisy, a horrible case of egomania, an as yet undiagnosed clinical schizophrenia, or more likely a combination of all three. In the end, he doesn't want to admit that our society celebrates both the birth and the death of great works of art.

The Bronx Developmental Center, should not be saved the fate granted to it by capitalist America and its consumer culture. To avoid this fate, it would have been necessary for this building to have achieved a higher status: It would have had to, over the last 25 years, become a part of our cultural consciousness - become a work of art/architecture which has a presence that continues to inspire thought and encourage reflection to the benefit of the culture in which it exists.

Unfortunately, this status carries no real currency in a system in which the City's Landmarks Preservation Commission, "can confer landmark status only on buildings that are at least 30 years old." As a litmus test for the artistic presence and potential of a building, this empty and worthless criteria [set up as the only protection for architecture against the rabid bite of capitalism] is a sad and impotent defense.

And yet this building was neither a part of our cultural consciousness, nor 30 years old. And no amount of grandstanding by a couple of old gray-haired architects can change that. It will only further reveal the nature of this system which artists and architects celebrate and loathe.