This story originally was published on DenverPost.com on August 8, 2004.
Will the real Daniel Libeskind please stand up?
The design architect for the Denver Art Museum’s $90.5 million
addition seemed almost invincible in February 2003 as he stood
before more than 300 journalists from 22 countries at a news
conference in New York City.
After a much-debated international design competition, Libeskind
was chosen to oversee reconstruction of the World Trade Center
site, the most important building project in at least 50 years.
Almost overnight, he became the architect of the moment. He was
poised to become the most important figure in his profession, a
position, by general consensus, that has been held by Frank Gehry
since the 1997 opening of the Guggenheim Bilbao museum in Spain.
But within the past 16 months, something happened. Libeskind’s
dizzying ascent to architectural immortality suddenly seemed to
sputter. Or did it? Had the reality changed or merely perceptions?
What is clear is that two very different Daniel Libeskinds have
emerged, and the still-unresolved question is: Which one is the
real one?
The headline of a recent New York Times article summed up one view
– “The Incredible Shrinking Daniel Libeskind: How Ground Zero’s
Visionary Architect Went from Master Planner to Minor Player.”
According to the story, virtually all the signature elements of
Libeskind’s proposed design for the WTC site – the Wedge of Light,
the Park of Heroes, the exposed slurry wall – have been altered,
reduced or eliminated.
“People involved with the redevelopment of downtown say he has
ample reason to be disappointed; in the year since he was anointed
Architect on High, his influence, control and stature have steadily
diminished,” wrote Robin Pogrebin.
Libeskind himself professes not to be disappointed. On the
contrary, in a Denver Post interview a few weeks before the Times
article, he sounded delighted with the progress on the WTC
designs.
The architect emphasized he was chosen as the master planner – not
the design dictator – for the reconstruction, a distinction that
helps define this second view of Libeskind.
“It’s always going to be a challenge working with the huge
stakeholders, the different interests, the complexity,” he said.
“But we are on schedule. The coherence of the idea is maintained.
We are proceeding on all fronts in a very positive way.”
He acknowledges that some elements of his plan have changed. But he
said that compromise is inevitable, and that to be viable, a master
plan must be resilient and achieve consensus among the many
competing parties involved.
“We are living in a market economy,” he said. “We are living in
a marketplace, in a democracy. ‘Compromise’ is not a dirty word. To
compromise in everything else – in life, in business – is a good
thing.
“Why should architecture be immune to democracy? Why should it
be some sort of prima donna standing outside the wishes of the
public?”
So, again, will the real Daniel Libeskind please stand up? Is he a
shrunken figure who has lost much of his influence or not? As in
most things, the truth probably lies somewhere in between.
Some of what is chronicled in the Times article was inevitable. At
that original news conference, there were already strong
undercurrents of discussion about the virtually insurmountable
political challenges facing Libeskind as he tried to realize his
vision.
No one expected the plan to survive intact, so it seems
disingenuous to attack him now that it has taken another form.
Yet there is no denying that Libeskind’s original plan has
significantly evolved. The question is whether those changes have
betrayed his initial concept or simply altered it in inevitable and
acceptable ways.
We will only know the answer when construction is finished and we
can visit the site.
Kyle MacMillan’s column on the fine arts appears every other Sunday
in Arts & Entertainment. Reach him at 303-820-1675 or
kmacmillan@denverpost.com.
This story originally was published on DenverPost.com on August 8, 2004.
