Musing of an Alumnus
It would have been 1987 that my college roommate’s parents came to Provo for a visit; it was their first time back since they themselves had been students at Brigham Young University. The parents took a stroll around campus and found to their dismay an 11-story tower in the middle of their quad. Such is the fate of alumni: they properly go away, don’t give ol’ alma mater a whole lot of active thought, but send occasional donations. When their children come of age for higher education, their attention to such things rises, and the alumni find a lot has changed while they were bowling in the hills.
This comes to mind this morning on learning that BYU plans to demolish the Harris Fine Arts Center. I have two sons who are near the end of their time as BYU undergraduate students, and as a friend said, it is remarkable how much more often I have chosen to travel to Provo these past five years compared with the twenty before them. The last couple times I have visited my sons’ apartments but not their college campus. The campus is a bit alienating for someone my age.
My first hint of this was a decade or so back when a BYU fundraiser called. Many of these student-employees have called, more or less annually through the decades, and I have always been glad to contribute a little. This time though, I was asked to contribute specifically toward construction of a new building for the College of Engineering. I did not want to contribute to replacing the old building, I really disliked the idea, and so I did not donate.
The HFAC, with its de Jong Concert Hall, Madsen Recital Hall, central atrium of visual art exhibits, and maze of offices, practice rooms, and work spaces, still fills me with a feeling and a flavor, and its retirement will be one more step of separation between me and the present. There is a similar development at the school I attended for my PhD, Johns Hopkins University in Baltimore: former open green space filled; roads truncated and parking removed; new, fresh buildings to keep attracting new, fresh people; a bigger and more compartmentalized school. May the young students and assistant professors enjoy it in this, their day.
bruce g charlton
June 8, 2022
New Buildings are a sign of Management – that managers dominate an institution. Buildings are an aspect of Reorganization’ (aka Development/ Strategy) – which is the primary managerial function (…according to managers). Consequently, nowadays in this managed global bureaucracy – all functionality declines, but we get lots of New Buildings.
E.C.
June 8, 2022
. . . Ugly new buildings, usually, with inadequate parking. Depending on when said buildings were first built, this may simply be replacing the ugliness of the past (I’m looking at you, Brutalist and Modern architecture!). The new style is *not better*, at least in my college town. It’s high rises that have the feel of a cyberpunk apocalypse, with fake wood siding in sections to soften the blow. One of the new-ish buildings near me is literally called ‘the Factory’, but factories from turn-of-the-19th-century were never so starkly ugly.
I hate new architecture, by which I mean anything after the Edwardian era. I think form should follow function, but that form should also be beautiful where possible, and that buildings should feel awe-inspiring or friendly or at least human, which modern architecture fails to do. In fact, though I don’t believe the Tartarian conspiracy theory, it gets more tempting over time.
G.
June 8, 2022
It takes no discernment to see the shame of architecture
G.
June 8, 2022
BYU has very few lovely buildings. But some of them had character, mostly through use and additions and odd little remodels they had gradually taken on life. Those I expect are the ones most likely to be taken down.
G.
June 8, 2022
@Bruce,
I don’t think temple building is pure managerialism in the sense you are describing, but its true that for some people seeing new temples get built gives them a sense of progress and growth that allows them to overlook our stalled evangelization, and the erosion occurring in North America.
Eric
June 8, 2022
The HFAC will always have a special place in my heart. I met my wife there when we both worked in the music department’s main office, and I helped tune all the pipe organs within its bowels. I learned my way around the lower floors, where most students never dared to venture, and took some pride in that.
The materials and design of the building always had a 1960s vibe that I don’t think many will miss, and I’m hopeful that the music department’s new home will be both more aesthetically pleasing and more efficient with its space (maybe not so hopeful with the efficiency part, as a lot of architects have an inordinate fondness for pointless empty interior spaces).
I’ve also noticed BYU has been making parking less available within its inner campus as old buildings get replaced. I suppose the planners there think forcing students to walk 15 minutes from dorms/parking lots to their classrooms is a good thing. At least it’s not my problem anymore.
G.
June 8, 2022
I miss the old Brimhall building.
G.
June 8, 2022
The replacement looks to be more-of-the-same glass box ultra bland just like everything else on campus–which was what the old HFAC originally was too.
https://universe.byu.edu/2022/06/06/byu-announces-new-arts-building-to-replace-hfac/
Bookslinger
June 8, 2022
“but its true that for some people seeing new temples get built gives them a sense of progress and growth that allows them to overlook our stalled evangelization, and the erosion occurring in North America.”
In a sense… “if you build it, they will come.” Maybe thusly:
1. A Zion people builds temples.
2. Temple attendance builds people into better, brighter Zion people.
3. The light in the countenance of Zion people attracts more good people to Zion — ie., more evangelization.