College Buldings

Rudolph On Fire: July 14th, 1969

Saturday, 3:38 AM, July 14, 1969 — the moment that New Haven police were alerted that the Yale Art & Architecture Building was on fire. The blaze was quickly contained, but serious damage —from fire, smoke, and water—extended across several floors of Rudolph’s most iconic building.

Saturday, 3:38 AM, July 14, 1969 — the moment that New Haven police were alerted that the Yale Art & Architecture Building was on fire. The blaze was quickly contained, but serious damage —from fire, smoke, and water—extended across several floors of Rudolph’s most iconic building.

When we say that someone’s “on fire”, it usually means something positive— that they’re in a state of great productivity, or they’re achieving their goals, or they’re becoming famous—or sometimes all of those. In that sense, the late 50’s and the 1960’s was certainly a period when Paul Rudolph was “on fire”: important commissions—often large scale, with significant budgets, and in a variety of building types—were coming into the office in abundance, and Rudolph was creating some of his most iconic buildings.

Rudolph was widely published, and seen as the face of a lively and creative American Modernism—and in 1957, at age 39, he was appointed Chair of the school of architecture at Yale (taking office in 1958). Soon after his appointment, he was given the commission to design Yale’s new Art & Architecture Building.

In February, 1964. something occurred which had probably never happened in the history of architectural publishing (and may never happen again): All three major American architectural journals—Architectural Record, Architectural Forum, and Progressive Architecture—had the same building as their cover story: Rudolph’s Yale Art & Architecture Building. John Morris Dixon, an editor at Progressive Architecture at the time, told us that there was no coordination for this—and, given that magazines generally avoid covering the same projects (and would certainly never want to make the same project their “cover story”), it is all-the-more evidence that this building was powerful enough to warrant such across-the-board coverage.

Rudolph’s Yale A&A Building on the cover of the February 1964 issue of ARCHITECTURAL FORUM

Rudolph’s Yale A&A Building on the cover of the February 1964 issue of ARCHITECTURAL FORUM

Rudolph’s Yale A&A Building on the cover of the February 1964 issue of ARCHITECTURAL RECORD

Rudolph’s Yale A&A Building on the cover of the February 1964 issue of ARCHITECTURAL RECORD

Rudolph’s Yale A&A Building on the cover of the February 1964 issue of PROGRESSIVE ARCHITECTURE

Rudolph’s Yale A&A Building on the cover of the February 1964 issue of PROGRESSIVE ARCHITECTURE

Reports on the building were nearly ecstatic—and the venerable critic Sibyl Moholy-Nagywhose Modernist credentials could not be questioned—had an essay in Architectural Forum that can be taken as emblematic of the design’s initial reception. With insight and numerous historical references, she plumbed the building’s formal and spatial roots—and offered some qualifications—but her overall assessment was glorious. Here ae some of her remarks:

Architectural Forum’s February 1964 issue gave extensive coverage to all aspects of the Yale building. Shown here is a page from that issue, with Rudolph’s famous perspective-section drawing, as well as the main floor plan.

Architectural Forum’s February 1964 issue gave extensive coverage to all aspects of the Yale building. Shown here is a page from that issue, with Rudolph’s famous perspective-section drawing, as well as the main floor plan.

“It is gratifying to know that the world of academic honors and medals has so profusely acknowledged the Bauhaus doctrine of architectural education as taught at Harvard since 1937; because never before has a curriculum turned out such a star roster of infidels. Johnson, Lundy, Barnes, Rudolph, Franzen, and others have revered their teacher [Gropius—ed.] while confounding his teaching. They all have left the safe anchorage of functionality, technology and anonymous teamwork to start the long voyage home to architecture as art. A few faithfuls still repeat the old incantations, but the guns by which they struck have stopped firing while those of the apostates are blazing.”

“. . . . [Rudolph’s] latest building. It is a splendid achievement, crystallizing potential solutions for some of the most vexing propositions facing architecture today.”

“The concrete surface has been widely criticized as being arty in an age of technology. However, the visual relief from the beton brut cliché of random formwork in the wake of Le Corbusier's revolution is so pleasing, and the purpose of the building so nontechnological, that the artifice seems wholly justified.”

“Space is an abstraction that must be conceived for its specific purpose. Every user is a judge. It is from their total involvement in this dichotomy of idea and realization that the architectural students will learn the essence of their profession. The Yale school is Paul Rudolph's confessional proof that architecture is not a commodity but an infinite potential of art, and therefore free and imperishable.”

“Earthrise”—probably the most famous photograph to come out of the US space program. The photo was taken in 1968 during the Apollo 8 mission—the first time a manned ship had gone to the moon-and-back.

“Earthrise”—probably the most famous photograph to come out of the US space program. The photo was taken in 1968 during the Apollo 8 mission—the first time a manned ship had gone to the moon-and-back.

GOOD TIMES, AND…

After 6 years as chair, during which he revolutionized architectural education at Yale, Rudolph left in 1964—relocating his home and office in New York City (where he’d reside for the rest of his life). The later 60’s continued to be a good period for him, and in a previous article we surveyed how a representative year—1968—was both a time of cultural and political churning in the country, and a creatively rich time for Rudolph.

Things were going well in the US economy, and technology and culture [including architecture] were advancing in multiple directions—but that cultural & political “churning” (referred-to above) also involved protests of increasing number and intensity: of the war in Vietnam, the lack of rights for Women and minorities, the devastation of the environment, and of inequalities in wealth and community resources.

The Yale’s Art & Architecture Building’s main atrium drafting room, after the 1969 fire. The space’s signature statue of Minerva, though streaked by smoke, was undamaged.

The Yale’s Art & Architecture Building’s main atrium drafting room, after the 1969 fire. The space’s signature statue of Minerva, though streaked by smoke, was undamaged.

…FIERY TIMES

Moreover, the very consumer/conformist culture which was so celebrated in mainstream media—and the values on which it was founded—were being questioned by a younger (and increasingly activist) generation. This led to campuses ablaze with protest.

The 1960’s—with all its growing openness and freedoms, as well as its clashing bitterness—is the subject of numerous historical-cultural studies, and has been dramatized in literature. For our purposes, we just want to note that it is within this heated atmosphere that Rudolph’s Yale Art & Architecture Building caught fire.

[RETROSPECTA 40 (the 2016-2017 issue), published by the Yale School of Architecture, has a section on the campus cultural context within which the fire occurred—as does Robert A. M. Stern and Jimmy Stamp’s history of a century of architectural education at Yale, “Pedagogy and Place” (which also covers the fire’s aftermath).]

Paul Rudolph, in the uniform of an officer in the US Navy during World War II. He was stationed at the Brooklyn Navy Yard, and engaged in the repair of damaged ships.

Paul Rudolph, in the uniform of an officer in the US Navy during World War II. He was stationed at the Brooklyn Navy Yard, and engaged in the repair of damaged ships.

DID RUDOLPH CAUSE THE YALE A&A FIRE?

Rudolph left Yale in 1964, and his stated reason was to deal with his expanding professional practice—and, given the number and complexity of the commissions he was receiving, one can see that as a legitimate reason. Yet there may be an additional cause—emerging from Rudolph himself.

The sensitive and reticent country fellow, who went into the Navy during World War II, emerged as an experienced 0fficer who had commanded hundreds, working in a navy yard on the repair of damaged warships. Rudolph retained that mood and mode of command for the rest of his career. Even his look changed: gone was his pre-war bouffant, replaced by a severe flat-top cut that he wore for another half-century. While he was capable of showing warmth and generosity, he was known to students, faculty, and employees as a leader who was assertive and demanding. This brought forth superb achievements from students and staff—and often evoked life-long appreciation and loyalty to Rudolph—but, as the 60’s got going, the culture was changing: anything that had an authoritarian feel was ripe for questioning and push-back. Perhaps Rudolph began to feel this—and wanted none of it. So 1964 was the right time for him to depart.

Moreover, Rudolph’s own building—his great legacy to Yale—conveyed that same feeling of forcefulness. By the later 60’s, it too was being questioned—both functionally and conceptually—with its almost aggressive use of materials and “overdetermined” spaces were being undermined by the way it was used (and, some say, abused) during the chairmanship of Charles Moore, Rudolph’s successor as chair.

So if there was on-campus anger in the air (directed at a menu of legitimate grievances), there was also anger at the building—or rather, what it represented: power and authority, and the society (the campus and beyond) in which that was solidified and wielded.

Rudolph may have been gone, but his building felt like a tangible manifestation of what was wrong with the world.

The photographer of this scene, taken within Yale’s Art and Architecture Building in 2008, labeled it as having “crowded desks” and “littered with food, models, draft designs, and instruments of architectural design”. The studios in 1969—also a time of widespread smoking—were even denser with combustible materials.

The photographer of this scene, taken within Yale’s Art and Architecture Building in 2008, labeled it as having “crowded desks” and “littered with food, models, draft designs, and instruments of architectural design”. The studios in 1969—also a time of widespread smoking—were even denser with combustible materials.

WHAT REALLY CAUSED THE YALE A&A FIRE?

Many causes were advanced for the fire. Several that have been put forth are:

  • The boiling, angry atmosphere, in that era of campus protest, was the context for student acts of violence and possibly arson.

  • The above—a period of profoundly “anti-establishment” (anti-authoritarian) protest—combined with the almost aggressively powerful character of Rudolph’s design, made the building itself an attractive target for a protesting act of destruction.

  • The building was permeable, and known to be subject to occasional petty theft, so local “kids”—delinquent teenagers—have been alleged to have started the fire.

  • The studios were allowed—during Moore’s chairmanship—to become “favelas”: divided up by makeshift partitions of highly combustible materials—an environment of tinder, and in an era when smoking by students and faculty was still prevasive.

  • The materials used by students—-paper, cardboard, glue, brushed and sprayed paint, wood, rubber cement…—are highly flammable. Moreover, as anyone who has ever visited an architecture school studio will report, these environments often become anarchic with scraps and debris on every surface.

Investigations of the fire were conducted, but never identified a distinct culprit. The local fire marshal said the cause was “undetermined” and possibly accidental, and cited the mass and density of combustible materials—but the local fire chief publicly said it was “of suspicious origin".

The Yale Art & Architecture Building did eventually receive a thorough renovation (and upgrading of systems), and was rededicated as Rudolph Hall in 2008.

The Yale Art & Architecture Building did eventually receive a thorough renovation (and upgrading of systems), and was rededicated as Rudolph Hall in 2008.

REBIRTH OF THE PHOENIX

When Rudolph was asked about his reaction to the fire, he said:

“I felt as if somebody had died.”

Others reflected on the fire as symbol and message. A student said:

“. . . .the building burst into flames out if its own psychic guilt. It was the only solution.”

Peter Blake—an architect, journalist, and architectural magazine editor (and friend of Rudolph) wrote:

“The Yale fire did dramatize a state of concern. . . .a profound uneasiness among students (and some faculty) about the priorities that today govern American architecture and American architectural education”

In the fall of 1988, Yale students created an exhibit about the building—one to which Rudolph gave his full cooperation (including lending drawings.) The catalog had essays by Alan Plattus, George Ranailli, and Thomas L. Schumacher—each expressing their insights about (and appreciation of) the building—but the contribution by the late Michael Sorkin, “Auto da Fe”, meditated on the fire, and ends by evoking the mythical and immortal phoenix bird that regenerates out of fire:

“Too soon, but not too late for the Phoenix. The ruin waits to blaze again.”

The fire left the building was unusable, and the school had to move-out while repairs were done—not returning until 1971. Even without the fire, Rudolph had not been happy with way the building had been left subject to poor maintenance, and allowed to fall into disrepair. This was compounded by the way the subsequent administration (Moore’s) seemed to encourage a disrespect for the building and the values—Rudolph’s values—it represented. It was many years before Rudolph would even visit the building.

The building continued to decline, and Yale even considered demolition. Fortunately, it eventually received a complete and respectful interior & exterior renovation, undertaken with the support of Sid R. Bass (for whom Rudolph had designed an elegant residence, as well as other projects)—and in 2008 it was rededicated as

RUDOLPH HALL

Another view, taken after the 1969 fire, showing internal damage to the Art & Architecture Building. When Rudolph later remarked about his reaction to the fire: “I felt as if somebody had died.”

Another view, taken after the 1969 fire, showing internal damage to the Art & Architecture Building. When Rudolph later remarked about his reaction to the fire: “I felt as if somebody had died.”


IMAGE CREDITS

NOTES:

The Paul Rudolph Heritage Foundation gratefully thanks all the individuals and organizations whose images are used in this non-profit scholarly and educational project.

The credits are shown when known to us, and are to the best of our knowledge, but the origin and connected rights of many images (especially vintage photos and other vintage materials) are often difficult determine. In all cases the materials are used in-good faith, and in fair use, in our non-profit, scholarly, and educational efforts. If any use, credits, or rights need to be amended or changed, please let us know.

When/If Wikimedia Commons links are provided, they are linked to the information page for that particular image. Information about the rights for the use of each of those images, as well as technical information on the images, can be found on those individual pages.

CREDITS:

Yale Art & Architecture Building, during the 1969 fire: courtesy of Yale University; Photo of earth from space: photograph by US astronaut William Anders; Covers of the February, 1964 issues of Architectural Forum, Architectural Record, and Progressive Architecture, courtesy of USModernist Library; Yale Art & Architecture section and plan: page from Architectural Forum, courtesy of USModernist Library; Interior views of the Yale Art & Architecture Building, showing fire damage: courtesy of Yale University; Rudolph in US Navy officer’s uniform: © The Estate of Paul Rudolph, The Paul Rudolph Heritage Foundation; Renovated Yale Art & Architecture Building (Rudolph Hall): photo by Sage Ross, via Wikimedia Commons; Studio interior, within the Rudolph Hall (the Yale school of architecture building): photo by Ragesoss, via Wikimedia Commons

When the Right Client Comes Along: John McAndrew and Paul Rudolph at Wellesley

Paul Rudolph’s perspective rendering of the design for the Jewett Arts Center at Wellesley College—the distinguished liberal-arts college in Massachusetts. As director of Wellesley’s art museum, John McAndrew’s support for having Rudolph be the architect (and his input during the design process) was key to making this project go forward to success.

Paul Rudolph’s perspective rendering of the design for the Jewett Arts Center at Wellesley College—the distinguished liberal-arts college in Massachusetts. As director of Wellesley’s art museum, John McAndrew’s support for having Rudolph be the architect (and his input during the design process) was key to making this project go forward to success.

JOHN MCANDREW’S MODERNIST VISION is Mardges Bacon’s study of the life and accomplishments of an accomplished—but too little known—figure. McAndrew’s name often comes up in the histories of Modernism in design and the arts in the US—but, before this publication, little coherent and concentrated information had been available about him and his activities, projects, and connections.

JOHN MCANDREW’S MODERNIST VISION is Mardges Bacon’s study of the life and accomplishments of an accomplished—but too little known—figure. McAndrew’s name often comes up in the histories of Modernism in design and the arts in the US—but, before this publication, little coherent and concentrated information had been available about him and his activities, projects, and connections.

IN THE BACKGROUND—BUT THEY’RE DECISIVE

If one studies the history of any topic, discipline, or historical era, you’ll come across an intriguing phenomenon: a few names that keep popping-up, often-enough that these persons must have had some real significance—but about whom little is known. No biographies have been published about them, their Wikipedia entries—if they exist at all—are thin, and their obituaries are brief and opaque.

Such figures are almost never in the foreground, yet there’s enough hints about their activities that they come to seem quietly ubiquitous and influential:

  • they’re involved in significant projects

  • they have key jobs/positions/appointments

  • they are thoroughly networked—socially, through family, class, school, profession, or other affinity

  • they have access to the famous and powerful people of their era or discipline

  • in the acknowledgements sections of project reports, speeches, books, and dedications, they’re thanked (but it’s never clear for what)

  • they’re a member of significant boards, committees, commissions, and juries

They just keep showing up.

John Dee (1527 –1609), who performed multiple duties for Queen Elisabeth —including as a national policy advisor, court astronomer, and science advisor. The full extent of his activates and influence still remains a tantalizing mystery.

John Dee (1527 –1609), who performed multiple duties for Queen Elisabeth —including as a national policy advisor, court astronomer, and science advisor. The full extent of his activates and influence still remains a tantalizing mystery.

IN FICTION AND IN LIFE

Fiction has characters similar to this: the cinema has given us Forrest Gump and Zelig; they seemed to saturate TV’s X-Files, and Robert Grossbach’s hilarious novel, A Shortage of Engineers includes the mysterious “OMIT B” (the initials standing for “Old Man In The Back”)—the hidden ultra-expert that one appealed-to when problems seemed insolvable.

But history gives us real examples in every field and era. John J. McCloy is a name that will elicit a shrug from most people—but looking at his resume, one discovers that he was central and active at some of the most important points in the history of mid-20th century international relations, war, and government affairs. François Vatel—the can-do majordomo of France’s Louis IV era—has only recently received a bit of name recognition, due to movie in which he’s depicted by Gérard Depardieu.

Because little is known of them, these figures often become subjects of suspicion: being characterized as éminence griseone who has power, but is behind the scenes. John Dee, the multifaceted magician-scholar that worked for Queen Elizabeth I, is—four centuries after his passing—still such a figure of tantalizing mystery. But sometimes they later became known as benign or positive forces (who had been forced to remain out of the spotlight because of the prejudices of their era)—Edith Wilson and Bayard Rustin being prime examples.

While McAndrew was associated with the Museum of Modern Art, he wrote several important publications that helped the public begin to understand the Modern movement in design: “What Is Modern Architecture?” (co-written with Elizabeth Mock), and “Guide To Modern Architecture: Northeast States”

While McAndrew was associated with the Museum of Modern Art, he wrote several important publications that helped the public begin to understand the Modern movement in design: “What Is Modern Architecture?” (co-written with Elizabeth Mock), and “Guide To Modern Architecture: Northeast States”

JOHN McANDREW AND MODERNISM

JOHN McANDREW was one such figure. McAndrew (1904-1978) was active during some of the most exciting years of the introduction of Modernism in America. He was networked with other campaigners for the cause, and engaging in a wide range of projects and roles in the fields of architecture and art. Yet, until the recently published full biography by architectural historian Mardges BaconJohn McAndrew’s Modernist Vision—the full extent of his multiple contributions was not known.

Even now, McAndrew still does not have a Wikipedia page—and this indicates the intractability of anonymity. Yet his CV is broad, deep, and impressive. McAndrew—

Mcandrew%2Bbook.jpg
  • Studied and practiced architecture and interior design

  • Was a key staff member of the Julien Levy Gallery in New York—the premiere gallery showing (and advocating for) Modern art in the US in the 1930’s and 40’s

  • Helped helped develop (and became head of) the Department of Architecture and Design at New York’s Museum of Modern Art—the world’s first curatorial department devoted to Modern work in those fields.

  • While there, he mounted landmark exhibitions on the Bauhaus, Frank Lloyd Wright’s Fallingwater, Modern Furniture, and a comprehensive show on Wright’s career. He also co-designed the first version of the museum’s garden, and was involved with numerous museum exhibits, activities, and publications.

  • Wrote (for the Museum of Modern Art) Guide To Modern Architecture: Northeastern States (1940), and the popular book (co-written with Elizabeth Mock, who became director after him) What Is Modern Architecture? (1942, with a second edition in 1946)

  • Wrote several books on architecture—modern and traditional

  • During World War II, while based in Mexico, coordinated inter-American affairs for the US government

  • Lectured internationally for the US Information Service

  • Taught at Vassar, Wellesley, the Hartford Art School, and New York University

  • Designed the Vassar College Art Library—possibly the first modern interior on a US college campus

  • Director of the Wellesley College Art Museum, from 1948-to-1958

  • Founded (and was later president) of the Save Venice fund, devoted to preserving that treasured—but ever threatened—city

A page from the Mardges Bacon’s study of McAndrew. The book delves into the subject’s networks and colleagues—making us aware of the connections, without which McAndrew’s life (or anyone’s) cannot be understood. Shown are photos of three key figures in McAndrew’s life (left-to-right): architectural historian Henry-Russell Hitchcock (who also worked closely with Philip Johnson), modern art gallery dealer Julien Levy, and museum curator A. Everett Austin.

A page from the Mardges Bacon’s study of McAndrew. The book delves into the subject’s networks and colleagues—making us aware of the connections, without which McAndrew’s life (or anyone’s) cannot be understood. Shown are photos of three key figures in McAndrew’s life (left-to-right): architectural historian Henry-Russell Hitchcock (who also worked closely with Philip Johnson), modern art gallery dealer Julien Levy, and museum curator A. Everett Austin.

Another page from Mardges Bacon’s McAndrew biography, showing the lively design of an invitation to a 1932 opening of Surrealist art at the Julien Levy Gallery. McAndrew was a key creative and organizational force in the gallery, and might well have coordinated the production of this graphic. This graphic object is significant because it was designed by Joseph Cornell (whom, near that year, began creating the diorama artworks which would bring him world-wide fame.)

Another page from Mardges Bacon’s McAndrew biography, showing the lively design of an invitation to a 1932 opening of Surrealist art at the Julien Levy Gallery. McAndrew was a key creative and organizational force in the gallery, and might well have coordinated the production of this graphic. This graphic object is significant because it was designed by Joseph Cornell (whom, near that year, began creating the diorama artworks which would bring him world-wide fame.)

McAndrew is well-deserving of the attention he’s now received via Madres Bacon’s book, which reveals the banquet of his involvements and accomplishments—but it’s his connection with Paul Rudolph that we seek to highlight.

An aerial photograph of the completed Jewett Arts Center at Wellesley, showing approximately the same set of elements as in Rudolph’s perspective rendering below—including the dramatic staircases that took visitors up to the reception area and large art gallery (which bridged over a ground-level passage.)

An aerial photograph of the completed Jewett Arts Center at Wellesley, showing approximately the same set of elements as in Rudolph’s perspective rendering below—including the dramatic staircases that took visitors up to the reception area and large art gallery (which bridged over a ground-level passage.)

WELLESLEY’S ARTS CENTER: A BREAKTHROUGH PROJECT FOR RUDOLPH

Up through the mid-1950’s, Paul Rudolph was primarily an architect of houses. That’s not unusual for the trajectory of most American architects, whose work usually commences with residential projects—and, in the era just after WWII, Rudolph was preeminent in designing some of the US’ most creative, inventive, and elegant Modern homes. For Rudolph, this was soon to change. He continued to do residential design throughout his half-century career, but he became as well-known for his non-residential works: civic buildings, offices, churches, laboratories—and especially educational buildings.

In that career path, the Mary Cooper Jewett Arts Center, at Wellesley College was the breakthrough project for him—the one in which Rudolph (who was always ambitious to try new design challenges) branched-out from residential work.

Paul Rudolph become known as a master of architectural perspective drawing—and above is a one of his renderings for the Jewett Arts Center at Wellesley. In this drawing, Rudolph showed some key features of the building’s design, including the roofto…

Paul Rudolph become known as a master of architectural perspective drawing—and above is a one of his renderings for the Jewett Arts Center at Wellesley. In this drawing, Rudolph showed some key features of the building’s design, including the rooftop skylights and the exterior screens.

Rudolph’s site plan shows the new arts building complex at the upper-left. It completes the quadrangle which had already been partially defined by the existing Wellesley buildings at the top, right, and bottom.

Rudolph’s site plan shows the new arts building complex at the upper-left. It completes the quadrangle which had already been partially defined by the existing Wellesley buildings at the top, right, and bottom.

THE CHALLENGE—AND RUDOLPH’S STRATEGY

Wellesley College, in Wellesley, Massachusetts, was founded in 1870, and is an elite private liberal arts college with a stellar list of alumni. When Paul Rudolph received the commission to design a new arts center, he was working within an existing context of buildings that were built in a style most often characterized as “Collegiate Gothic.”

Rudolph’s challenge was to complete one side of an existing quadrangle (on whose other sides were situated the vintage college buildings.) The new complex would have to accommodate a variety of spaces and uses: a reception area, theater workshop, auditorium, two art galleries, two libraries, research facilities, classrooms, and storage.

In the 1971 book, Paul Rudolph (which featured photographs of Yukio Futagawa, and was the first independent monograph devoted to the Rudolph) Rupert Spade (the pseudonym of writer-editor-critic Martin Pawley) gives a concise description and Rudolph’s strategy:

“Built in association with Anderson, Beckwith, and Haible, and commissioned at a time when Rudolph had never designed anything larger than a three-bedroom house, the Wellesley Arts Center represents his tour de force of integration with an existing style—in this case the pseudo-gothic. Careful study of proportion and massing led him to create a design combining the dimensional basis of the original with a novel massing and use of materials—including the use of porcelain-enameled aluminum sun-screens conceived as a kind of ‘built-in ivy’. The structure of the extension is in reinforced concrete and the facing materials are brick and limestone. The art department itself is linked to a classroom and auditorium block by a bridging exhibition gallery. The conical skylights—much criticized by opponents of Rudolph’s eclecticism—are intended to echo the repeated gables of the existing building.”

[By-the-way: Spade is not-quite-accurate in saying that Paul Rudolph, up to that time, had never designed anything larger than a house. He had designed several larger buildings—but Spade is correct in spirit: none of those projects had been built. So Jewett was the first, large, non-residential design of Rudolph’s to progress all-the-way to construction.]

A Rudolph-designed construction detail of the Jewett Arts Center building, as shown in Design With Glass.

A Rudolph-designed construction detail of the Jewett Arts Center building, as shown in Design With Glass.

John Peter’s 1964 book on the use of glass in Modern architecture, Design With Glass, looks further at the building’s materials. Speaking of the harmony that the Rudolph’s complex achieved with the campus’ older buildings, Peter asserts:

“It would be difficult to find a better example of this in in detail than the way in which the glass is handled. The pointed skylights of the visual arts wing recall the pattern of triangular dormer visible all over the older campus. the slot-like windows of the performing arts wing echo the perpendicular windows of the existing Neo-Gothic building. The large applied wood strips provide a deep reveal with structural solidity backed by solid lumber which eliminates exposed fastener heads on the interior. Perhaps the most intriguing example of planned relationship is the great porcelain-enamel of aluminum grille protecting the north and south windows of the visual arts wing. Designed to the lacy scale of “man-made ivy” it matches in color the limestone of the other campus buildings.”

Philip Johnson, in a 1960 article in Art In America, “Great Reputations in the Making: Three Architects,” presented architects whom he [then] defined as “under-recognized artists”: Louis Kahn, Paul Rudolph, and Frederick Kiesler—and he characterized Rudolph as: “. . . .articulate, inventive, mercurial, tough.” Rudolph’s section included a photo of Jewett with its metallic screens, and Johnson uses their form to conclude:

“This is an example of Rudolph’s strong linear quality combined with his discontent with plain surfaces.”

That “discontent with plain surfaces” would manifest throughout Rudolph’s later work, as is evident in Rudolph’s most famous masterwork, the Yale Art & Architecture Building—whose ribbed concrete (and other texturing techniques) he’d continue to utilize in other projects.

Rudolph himself spoke about Wellesley’s design challenge:

The problem was to add to a pseudo-gothic campus in such a way as to enhance the existing campus and still make a valid twentieth century building. The siting, manipulation of scale, use of materials, and silhouette helped to extend the environment.

Wellesley’s alumni magazine covered the project several times, from beginning to completion—as can be seen in these two examples:

In a March, 1956 issue: showing the proposed design in model form, in the context of the campus’ existing buildings

In a March, 1956 issue: showing the proposed design in model form, in the context of the campus’ existing buildings

In a November, 1958 issue: after completion, showing an interior of one of the center’s two art galleries.

In a November, 1958 issue: after completion, showing an interior of one of the center’s two art galleries.

Looking back, more than a decade later, Rudolph was frank in his own assessment of the result:

The sequence of spaces leading under the connecting bridge up to the raised courtyard and the tower beyond works, but the interior spatial sequence is unclear, overly detailed and in many cases badly proportioned.”

Whether the Jewett Arts Center met with Rudolph’s ultimate approval is one thing—but it did get broad coverage in the architectural press, indicating that—at least to journal editors—the design seemed interesting and fresh. Wellesley maintains a website with a fascinating collection of such articles, including a 1959 issue of the distinguished French architectural journal, L'Architecture d'Aujourd'hui. Here, in one representative page from that magazine’s coverage of Rudolph’s design, one can get an idea of the visual richness that he achieved:

architecture%2Bd%2527aujour%2527d%2Bhui.jpg
Another of Rudolph’s perspective renderings for the Jewett Arts Center: here he shows the entry plaza that was part of the arts center complex—and, centered in the near-distance, is the bridging section of the building (which connected its two main volumes.). McAndrew moved the college’s art museum into these expanded quarters in 1958.

Another of Rudolph’s perspective renderings for the Jewett Arts Center: here he shows the entry plaza that was part of the arts center complex—and, centered in the near-distance, is the bridging section of the building (which connected its two main volumes.). McAndrew moved the college’s art museum into these expanded quarters in 1958.

McANDREW AND RUDOLPH

John McAndrew joined the faculty of Wellesley College’s Art Department in 1946, starting as a lecturer, and rising to a professorship—and would stay there for over two decades, retiring in 1968.

In 1948, he was appointed to be Director of the Wellesley College Museum—and remained so for a decade, until 1958. According to Wellesley’s website, “He was a robust collections builder, and under his leadership the collections came to include works by many pioneers of European modernism.”

The Jewett Arts Center commission was given to Paul Rudolph in 1955—but how did he obtain this project, one which was so important to his career?

It turns-out that the connections between McAndrew and Rudolph were multiple:

  • John McAndrew was familiar with Paul Rudolph’s work in Sarasota

  • McAndrew would have known of Rudolph’s design work for the Museum of Modern Art (where McAndrew had been a key staff member)

  • They both knew Philip Johnson—another major campaigner for architectural Modernism, and a pillar of the Museum of Modern Art

  • In 1941 McAndrew had received his graduate architecture degree at Harvard (under Gropius), and 1941 is the year that Rudolph started in the same program—so the two of them may have first intersected on the Harvard campus

Mardges Bacon is illuminating about McAndrew’s contribution to the project, and relation to Rudolph’s work there—and we’ll let her tell the story:

For a decade McAndrew served concurrently as a professor and as director of the Wellesley college Museum, known as the Farnsworth Museum (1948-1958). In that capacity he represented the college as client for the new art museum, the Mary Cooper Jewett Arts Center. In the fall of 1955 Paul Rudolph received the commission as a result of a closed competition among a short list of candidates drawn up by McAndrew, which included Eero Saarinen, Edward Durrell Stone, Marcel Breuer, Hugh Stubbins, and Paul Rudolph. Most were experienced and highly respected architects with whom McAndrew had previously worked during his curatorship at MoMA. That was not the case with the young Rudolph. McAndrew knew Rudolph and his early work with Ralph Twitchell in Sarasota, Florida, at least since the spring of 1950. . . . Impressed with Rudolph’s Sarasota buildings, McAndrew expressed the Department of Art’s preference in a letter to Wellesley president Margaret Clap inferring that Rudolph would be “likely to produce the most distinguished design . . . one of quality.”

 Bacon continues:

McAndrew seemed to have had a personal stake in shaping Rudolph’s final design During the two-year phase of the project’s design development, the museum director worked with the Department of Art chair Agnes Abbot to supply Rudolph with continual critiques, especially on the articulation of the building’s exterior.

And Bacon give further confirmation of McAndrew’s own thoughts about his contribution the project:

To accompany a 1960 editorial by McAndrew, the editors Museum News included a text that. . . .also affirmed his advisory role in planning the Jewett Arts Center. Find an architect ‘sympathetic to your needs,” McAndrew counseled readers in his editorial: “if the building is fine, part of the credit is yours; if not, yours may be half the fault.” Clearly, McAndrew felt that he was responsible for selecting the right architect and helping to craft the building’s design such that he could also share its success.

The history and development of the Jewett building is complex: Rudolph struggled over the design, seeking a contextually sensitive solution that would also be true to the principles of Modernism. He came up with a succession of schemes, and the story of the building’s evolution is described in Timothy M. Rohan’s monograph on Rudolph—and also studied, in-depth, in “The Landscape & Architecture of Wellesley College.”

JOHN McANDREWS—INTO THE LIGHT

While there are a variety of sources about the history of the Jewett Arts Center (like the ones mentioned above) we are especially glad to have Mardges Bacon’s book—both for what it shares about McAndrew and Rudolph; but even more because she has brought a key “background” player in 20th culture out of the shadows, and given him the biography and acknowledgments he deserves: John McAndrew.

The proposed Revere Development, for Siesta Key, Florida, a project from 1948. The drawing appears to be a tempera-gouache rendering, and it is signed by Rudolph.

The proposed Revere Development, for Siesta Key, Florida, a project from 1948. The drawing appears to be a tempera-gouache rendering, and it is signed by Rudolph.

P.S. - PAUL RUDOLPH AND HIS RENDERING

The rendering of the proposed Jewett Arts Center (shown at the top of this article) is of a different character from most of the presentation drawings which Rudolph created during his half-century career. Rudolph is most well-known for his pen-and-ink perspective drawings (and especially his perspective-sections)—but this drawing was done in tempera or gouache.

We do know of a very few drawings from the Rudolph office which appear to be in that medium—notably his aerial view of the Revere Development project in Florida (which is signed by Rudolph), and a rendering of his 1957 Blue Cross-Blue Shield Building in Boston. But examples of tempera-gouache drawings become rarer as Rudolph’s career progresses.

In fact, we have some testimony about Paul Rudolph’s attitude to that drawing medium from his former student, Robert A. M. Stern. In an interview with the editors of Paprika (the student publication of Yale’s School of Architecture), Stern remarks:

Question: “Have you ever been ‘Bobbed’ during a review or presentation?”
Answer: (confused) “ ‘Bobbed’? What’s that mean? I think it’s a common term amongst students. What does that mean? You mean, given hell? (editors laugh) I think that’s down to the point. Oh, of course! First of all, as a student… I mean, Paul Rudolph took no prisoners. If you think I’m a tough critic, you don’t know what a tough critic is. (laughter) Once there was a student, I think we were in second year, and he hung up a drawing—there used to be things like sketch problems and short problems in studios in a term, you did two projects in a term, not one. Anyhow, he put up a drawing, which was a tempera rendering. Rudolph thought tempera drawings were terrible, and certainly thought this guy’s was terrible and he said, ‘Mr. X,’—I won’t use his name,—‘that is the single ugliest drawing I have ever seen.’ ”

BOOK INFORMATION AND AVAILABILITY:

  • TITLE: John McAndrew’s Modernist Vision

  • AUTHOR: Mardges Bacon

  • PUBLISHER: Princeton Architectural Press

  • PRINT FORMAT: Hardcover, 9-1/2” x 7'“, 192 pages, numerous black & white and color illustrations

  • ISBN: 9781616896409

  • ELECTRONIC FORMAT: Kindle (Amazon) and Nook (Barnes & Noble) versions available

  • PUBISHER’S WEB PAGE FOR THE BOOK: here

  • AMAZON PAGE: here

  • BARNES & NOBLE PAGE: here

The exterior stairs of the Jewett Arts Center at Wellesley College, centrally located in the building complex This view is looking away from the building, and towards the other side of the campus quadrangle.

The exterior stairs of the Jewett Arts Center at Wellesley College, centrally located in the building complex This view is looking away from the building, and towards the other side of the campus quadrangle.


IMAGE CREDITS

NOTES:

The Paul Rudolph Heritage Foundation gratefully thanks all the individuals and organizations whose images are used in this non-profit scholarly and educational project.

The credits are shown when known to us, and are to the best of our knowledge, but the origin and connected rights of many images (especially vintage photos and other vintage materials) are often difficult determine. In all cases the materials are used in-good faith, and in fair use, in our non-profit, scholarly, and educational efforts. If any use, credits, or rights need to be amended or changed, please let us know.

When/If Wikimedia Commons links are provided, they are linked to the information page for that particular image. Information about the rights for the use of each of those images, as well as technical information on the images, can be found on those individual pages.

CREDITS, FROM TOP-TO-BOTTOM and LEFT-TO-RIGHT:

Wellesley Jewett Arts Center Building, perspective rendering, in color: © The Estate of Paul Rudolph, The Paul Rudolph Heritage Foundation;  Cover of Madres Bacon’s biographical study of John McAndrew, “John McAndrew’s Modernist Vision”: from the publisher’s page for that book;  Line engraving portrait of John Dee: from the Wellcome Collection gallery, via Wikimedia;  Cover of “What Is Modern Architecture”: from the Amazon page for that book;  Cover of “Guide to Modern Architecture: Northeast States”: from the Amazon page for that book;  Sample pages from Madres Bacon’s book: screen captures from on-line images of the book;  Aerial view of the Jewett Arts Center: from the archives of the Paul Rudolph Heritage Foundation, © The Estate of Paul Rudolph, The Paul Rudolph Heritage Foundation;  Wellesley perspective rendering (in black & white linework) by Paul Rudolph: © The Estate of Paul Rudolph, The Paul Rudolph Heritage Foundation;  Wellesley campus plan, showing Rudolph’s proposed new building (drawn in black & white linework) by Paul Rudolph: © The Estate of Paul Rudolph, The Paul Rudolph Heritage Foundation;  Wellesley glazing construction detail drawings, as reproduced in “Design With Glass” book, drawings by Paul Rudolph (in black & white linework: © The Estate of Paul Rudolph, The Paul Rudolph Heritage Foundation;  Covers of Wellesley Alumnae Magazine: screen captures from Wellesley’s “Jewett in Print” archive page;  Page from L'Architecture d'Aujourd'hui coverage of Rudolph’s building: screen capture from Wellesley’s “Jewett in Print” archive page;  Wellesley perspective rendering, by Paul Rudolph: © The Estate of Paul Rudolph, The Paul Rudolph Heritage Foundation; Revere Development rendering by Paul Rudolph: © The Estate of Paul Rudolph, The Paul Rudolph Heritage Foundation; Exterior stairs at Wellesley Jewett Arts Center: from the from the archives of the Paul Rudolph Heritage Foundation, © The Estate of Paul Rudolph, The Paul Rudolph Heritage Foundation

A Paul Rudolph Landmark: the DANA ARTS CENTER at Colgate University

The Charles A. Dana Arts Center is a Rudolph masterwork of the mid-1960’s.

The Charles A. Dana Arts Center is a Rudolph masterwork of the mid-1960’s.

PAUL RUDOLPH: A CAREER THAT DEFIES CATEGORIZATION

The Paul Rudolph Project Atlas—an ongoing project of the Paul Rudolph Heritage Foundation—is an example of applying several layers of analysis to Rudolph’s work (by geographical region, by building type, and chronologically.) You can explore the Project Atlas here.

The Paul Rudolph Project Atlas—an ongoing project of the Paul Rudolph Heritage Foundation—is an example of applying several layers of analysis to Rudolph’s work (by geographical region, by building type, and chronologically.) You can explore the Project Atlas here.

Rudolph’s career has been analyzed and classified in numerous ways:

  • by decade

  • by style

  • by region

  • by climate

  • by building type

  • by physical context

  • by scale

  • by type of client

  • by recurrent forms

  • by historic context

  • by amount and type of innovation

  • by materials and/or construction methods

  • by discipline (planning, lighting, siting, inclusion of art, energy efficiency…)

  • by what issues Rudolph thought he was investigating (during different eras)

While each of these are illuminating pathways into Rudolph’s work, none of these schemas can ever be ultimate and finaland that’s because Paul Rudolph was too creative to ever fully pin-down. Even though his career is receiving increasing attention from historians and critics, he still remains resistant to categorization (or even characterization!) Der Scutt - an architect who studied with and worked for Rudolph - encapsulated the issue when he wrote:

“One can copy Mies, emulate some Le Corbusier, and replicate some Wright ideas, but no one can copy pure Rudolph!”

rUDOLPH: PRIME YEARS aND PRIME PROJECTS A CONTEXT FOR COLGATE’S DANA ARTS CENTER

Acknowledging the above, even so we still try to arrive at useful distinctions about Paul Rudolph’s half-century career and well over 300 commissions. Rudolph created amazing designs in all phases of his work—from his beginnings in the 1940’s, to the very end in 1997—but the part of Rudolph’s work that is highlighted in most history books were designed during a period from the late 1950’s through the 1960’s. That’s the era in which some of his most famous buildings were designed and built—e.g.: the Yale Art & Architecture Building, the Temple Street Garage, the Milam Residence, the Tuskegee Chapel, Endo Labs, and the Burroughs Wellcome Headquartersto name just a few, from his most creative period.

1958: Yale Art & Architecture Building

1958: Yale Art & Architecture Building

1959: Temple Street Garage

1959: Temple Street Garage

1959: Milam Residence

1959: Milam Residence

1960: Tuskegee University Chapel

1960: Tuskegee University Chapel

1960: Endo Laboratories

1960: Endo Laboratories

1969: Burroughs Wellcome

1969: Burroughs Wellcome

It is in this context—this concentration of creativity that few designers achieve - that the 1963 Charles A. Dana Fine Arts Center came to be. To explore this, it’s worth looking at two of Paul Rudolph’s drawings for the project.

The overall form of the building is already well-developed in the perspective rendering below—probably the version that was shown to the client. One can see resemblances with other works Rudolph designed during this period: the bold, expressive use of concrete; the rhythmic placement of vertical elements; a dramatic use of cantilevers; the articulation of various functions, which are communicated on the exterior; the careful handling of light, sun, and views, through the shaping and location of openings; and the the Mondrian-esque aesthetic.

Paul Rudolph’s early perspective rendering of the arts center building [the medium appears to be colored pencil on a diazo “whiteprint”]—possibly done as a presentation drawing for the client and/or other stakeholders. While there would be changes made (between what’s shown in this drawing and the final design) this shows that the overall form and organization of the building has been well established.

Paul Rudolph’s early perspective rendering of the arts center building [the medium appears to be colored pencil on a diazo “whiteprint”]—possibly done as a presentation drawing for the client and/or other stakeholders. While there would be changes made (between what’s shown in this drawing and the final design) this shows that the overall form and organization of the building has been well established.

The final version—shown in Rudolph’s later (and well-published) perspective drawing below, and in the photo at the top of this article—maintains all of those values, but the building is further refined so that all the parts work in a more disciplined way within the geometric frame. Also, Rudolph shows that he is incorporating textured concrete block—a material he developed as an economical alternative to all poured-in-place concrete construction. In the drawing, areas of block are shown as planar infill within the concrete frame.

Paul Rudolph’s perspective rendering drawing of the Charles A. Dana Arts Center—the version most frequently published, and the one that Rudolph included in his own monograph of his drawings. One can see (when comparing this drawing to the photo at the top of this article), this final drawing closely matches the as-built facility.

Paul Rudolph’s perspective rendering drawing of the Charles A. Dana Arts Center—the version most frequently published, and the one that Rudolph included in his own monograph of his drawings. One can see (when comparing this drawing to the photo at the top of this article), this final drawing closely matches the as-built facility.

The plans and sections are also intriguing: they show Rudolph simultaneously able to handle a complex program in a practical way, and yet introduce interesting spatial experiences throughout the building - even for common functions.

AN OUTLINE OF THE DANA ARTS CENTER’S HISTORY

INITIAL PLANNING

  • In 1962, Charles A. Dana (1881-1975), a successful industrialist and philanthropist, visited the campus of Colgate University, the prominent liberal college located at the geographic center of New York State. After observing that art classes and studios were in less-than-optimal spaces (like the basements of class buildings), he saw the need for a facility that would provide the appropriate locations and the right atmosphere for the creative arts at the university.

  • Through the offices of his Dana Foundation, he challenged the college to find matching funds to supplement an initial grant of $400,000—and the challenge was taken-up by a group of volunteers and contributors to raise the necessary funds for such a building project.

  • A university committee was formed to work on a “creative arts center”—it would be the first building on campus designated for that explicit purpose. The committee was composed of representatives from various departments, and was chaired by Dr. Herman Brautigam—and had a project budget of $1,200,000. They formulated a program for the building, and had “three or four” architects in mind—and a member of the Board of Trustees, suggested Paul Rudolph after being impressed with Rudolph’s Mary Jewett Arts Center at Wellesley College and the chapel at Tuskegee Institute. Although not all of the other committee members agreed, but Rudolph was finally chosen to receive the commission.

  • Rudolph came to Colgate and found “one of the most handsome campuses in the country.” He engaged in preliminary discussions and left with a detailed list of the building’s needs and a projected budget. He later returned to walk the campus and study its existing architecture which reflected almost 150 years of growth and redevelopment at the university. With a site in mind, Rudolph returned to his office—probably the one located in New Haven, as Rudolph (in addition to his architectural practice) was also Chair of Yale’s school of architecture. There, he sketched a building that would fit into the terrain, relate to the existing campus, fit the flow of student traffic, and house the creative arts.

Rudolph’s model of his design for Colgate. The proposed building is shown at the bottom center. It is also meant to act as a visual gateway to the campus—and a key pathway flows below its “porte-cochere.” Just behind the building is a depressed area in the terrain—the ravine (for which a footbridge was proposed.) At the top of the photo is the steeple of the campus chapel.

Rudolph’s model of his design for Colgate. The proposed building is shown at the bottom center. It is also meant to act as a visual gateway to the campus—and a key pathway flows below its “porte-cochere.” Just behind the building is a depressed area in the terrain—the ravine (for which a footbridge was proposed.) At the top of the photo is the steeple of the campus chapel.

PAUL RUDOLPH’S DESIGN

  • Rudolph’s plan meets both practical and aesthetic requirements of the project. The building Rudolph designed is striking and original, yet compliments the existing campus architecture. The roof repeats the contours of other rooftops on the hill, the location of the building effectively extends the lines of the existing college quadrangle, and the texture as well as the color of the new building represents a modern interpretation of older university buildings’ stone (which had become too expensive.) It was close-enough to the existing classrooms and the library to be easily accessible—but separate-enough to be distinctive.

  • Rudolph stated that he “was given a free a hand as possible.” “They were really quite wonderful,” he said, “but of course there were budgetary and other restraints.”

  • The choice of the project site, according to Dr. Brautigam, “was left pretty much up to Rudolph himself.” According to Rudolph: “the site was very significant for the whole structure,” adding, “It is intended to be both a symbolic gate to the campus and to effect a connection between the upper and lower parts of the campus.” “I don’t believe in inspiration,” he said, “but I felt it was a remarkable site.” and, “the older buildings on campus were my point of departure, and my building was intended to reflect the silhouettes of the earlier buildings.”

  • The roof of the building adjoins a hill providing access to the first and fourth floors, and is designed so it can be used as a gallery for sculpture and art shows

  • The roof design also features several dormers to provide natural light for art studios and classrooms and to blend with the lines of the Student Union building situated to the immediate right of the building.

  • According to Rudolph, the original plan was “for a staged building project with the possibility of two or three, or as many as five stages.” The first phase proposed to be built was the main stage, and the other further additions are postponed due to budgetary limitations. [According to Dr. Brautigam, Rudolph had some very specific ideas for a second stage which never materialized.]

Rudolph’s Site Plan for the Dana Arts Center: the proposed building is in the center, and on can see a pathway bending to flow through it. A new campus library is at the lower-left; the chapel is near the top, at he left edge of the drawing; and a residence hall is above the arts center. Part of Rudolph’s design was a proposed footbridge, whose purpose was to cross the ravine on the left side of the building (it is shown as a dark zig-zag diagonal line, to the center’s left.) The bridge displeased the center’s prime benefactor, and was deleted.

Rudolph’s Site Plan for the Dana Arts Center: the proposed building is in the center, and on can see a pathway bending to flow through it. A new campus library is at the lower-left; the chapel is near the top, at he left edge of the drawing; and a residence hall is above the arts center. Part of Rudolph’s design was a proposed footbridge, whose purpose was to cross the ravine on the left side of the building (it is shown as a dark zig-zag diagonal line, to the center’s left.) The bridge displeased the center’s prime benefactor, and was deleted.

PRESENTATION AND RECEPTION

  • In April, 1964, the design was presented to Dana and architectural critics at the University Club. According to a New York Times article about the event, everyone expressed admiration for the plans—except Mr. Dana. He suggested that the principal architectural feature of the building—the prominent three-story “port-cochere”—be deleted, and that the site be changed. Rudolph told Dana that the design change would ruin the building, and explained that the port-cochere shelters the building’s entrance and bears an extension of the fourth floor in which a painting and sculpture studio will be located—and added that it will have the additional value as a gateway to the old Colgate quadrangle of traditional buildings, seen up a hillside, with the spire of the chapel in the center. Mr. Dana, after Rudolph finished, asked him, “You are one of the drawers of this building?” He then asked about the proposed footbridge behind the building (which connects the back of the building with the old quadrangle at the top of the hill.) “Why have that bridge? Walking is good for students.” Rudolph acknowledges that the bridge is an optional addition that could be removed from the design. [Note: it was not built.] Mr. Dana told everyone he approves the various features but asks to hear more about the port-cochere. He finished by advising, “You can save money on these extremities.” University officials explain there were reasons to not change the site but agree to examine Mr. Dana’s suggestion.

  • The building was occupied in January, 1966.

  • On September 08, 1966 Rudolph delivered the speech ‘Urban Design’ at Colgate’s annual Founders Day Convocation about urban planning and the basic elements that need to be expressed in urban design. After the address, members of the administration awarded Rudolph an Honorary Doctor of Fine Arts Degree.

EXPANSION OR ADDITION

  • In 1972, Brooks Stoddard, Chairman of the Fine Arts Department, decided to review the original proposal to build Phase 2 of the Dana Arts Center project, due to feeling the pressure of limited space in the original building. After looking at the possibility to re-use and rehabilitate another building on campus, a decision was made to construct a new but inexpensive building to provide studio space next to the original Rudolph building. “It was our feeling,” said Stoddard, “that the Rudolph building itself was such a strong structure that it could withstand the presence of another structure nearby, even though it would be nice to keep it isolated. I think the academic realities are that students are coming here, they need space to work in, and it makes sense to have them working in an area with some proximity to the other arts.”

  • Two architects were considered for the new studio building, and a local Utica firm was given the contract. Although a simple loft building, there was an attempt to maintain a style similar to that of the original Rudolph building—the use of split-face concrete block is one example of this effort. “The judgement of history will show how that studio building relates to Dana,” said Mr. Stoddard. “I rather think it does.”

THE FUTURE?

2018: Dean Lesleigh Cushing announced that the university planned to renovate the Dana Arts Center, with the aim of increasing the visibility of the arts in Colgate’s curriculum. The plan then contemplated was to construct multiple new structures in the area around Rudolph’s building, in order to alleviate the need for additional space (as the result of the expansion of the university’s arts program.)

2021: The Paul Rudolph Heritage Foundation learns of a new initiative at the Dana Arts Center (changes? alterations? expansions?)

We look forward to finding more about what’s intended for the Charles A. Dana Fine Arts Center.

MAINTAINING RUDOLPH’S LEGACY

The Paul Rudolph Heritage Foundation advocates for the preservation and proper maintenance of buildings designed by Rudolph. As stewards of the largest body of knowledge about the work of Paul Rudolph, the foundation makes itself available to consult with the owners of buildings and interiors designed by Rudolph, as well as conferring with the designers and builders engaged by those owners.

In a way that many would see as a beautiful enhancement-through-time, Nature has asserted itself: partially covering the building in a garment of green. In this photo, one can also discern Rudolph’s use of a mixture of materials at this project: a concrete frame which is infilled with textured (split-rib) concrete blocks—a cost-saving material which he developed.

In a way that many would see as a beautiful enhancement-through-time, Nature has asserted itself: partially covering the building in a garment of green. In this photo, one can also discern Rudolph’s use of a mixture of materials at this project: a concrete frame which is infilled with textured (split-rib) concrete blocks—a cost-saving material which he developed.


IMAGE CREDITS

NOTES:

The Paul Rudolph Heritage Foundation gratefully thanks all the individuals and organizations whose images are used in this non-profit scholarly and educational project.

The credits are shown when known to us, and are to the best of our knowledge, but the origin and connected rights of many images (especially vintage photos and other vintage materials) are often difficult determine. In all cases the materials are used in-good faith, and in fair use, in our non-profit scholarly and educational efforts. If any use, credits, or rights need to be amended or changed, please let us know.

When/If Wikimedia Commons links are provided, they are linked to the information page for that particular image. Information about the rights for the use of each of those images, as well as technical information on the images, can be found on those individual pages.

CREDITS, FROM TOP-TO-BOTTOM, AND LEFT-TO-RIGHT:

Exterior View of Dana Arts Center: color postcard by Bob Wyer Photo Cards, © Bob Wyer, from the archives of the Paul Rudolph Heritage Foundation;  Paul Rudolph Project Atlas: screen grab from the Project Atlas page on the website of the Paul Rudolph Heritage Foundation;  Yale Art & Architecture Building: photo by Sage Ross, via Wikimedia Commons;  Temple Street Parking Garage: photo from the New Haven Redevelopment collection, New Haven Museum;  Milam residence: photo by Joseph W. Molitor. Image courtesy of the Joseph W. Molitor architectural photograph collection, Columbia University, Avery Architectural and Fine Arts Library, Department of Drawings and Archives;  Tuskegee University Chapel: © The Estate of Paul Rudolph, The Paul Rudolph Heritage Foundation;  Endo Laboratories: © The Estate of Paul Rudolph, The Paul Rudolph Heritage Foundation;  Burroughs Wellcome Headquarters: photo by G. E. Kidder Smith, image courtesy of the Massachusetts Institute of Technology;  Color perspective drawing of Dana Arts Center: rendering by Paul Rudolph, © The Estate of Paul Rudolph, The Paul Rudolph Heritage Foundation;  Black & White perspective drawing of Dana Arts center: rendering by Paul Rudolph, © The Estate of Paul Rudolph, The Paul Rudolph Heritage Foundation;  Model of proposed Dana Arts Center, photo by Daryl Jackson, © The Estate of Paul Rudolph, The Paul Rudolph Heritage Foundation;  Site plan of proposed Dana Arts Center, © The Estate of Paul Rudolph, The Paul Rudolph Heritage Foundation;  Exterior of Dana Arts Center, partially covered by plant growth: photographer unknown