I'm not quite sure how something completely gray, made of steel, and quite stubborn in appearance can pull on heartstrings, but the soon-to-be-completed central branch of the Seattle Public Library has managed to do it. From the moment it began to sprout crooked legs, the site has been loaded with hope, and though the design arrived laden with theory and rhetoric, the sheer presence of what is taking shape renders all that somewhat irrelevant. It is a visceral experience, which gets down to the basic act of a body occupying space. There is an abruptness to its stature and nature that sets it apart from its neighbors. It is a frankly provocative presence. Even its detractors will find themselves quite surprised by what awaits inside. Upon entering from Fifth Avenue, the public will be met with a large, light-filled space called "the living room," whose main purpose is just that.
It is interesting how the building has activated and engaged nearby buildings. The monumental painting by Sam Francis in the lobby of the building to the west appears to have long anticipated the library's arrival. Francis' painting has been facing the building site for decades and now its irregular lattice of blue paint serves as a distorted echo to the library's relentless diamond-shaped windows. The library also manages to anchor the presence of the W Hotel's pyramidal top: When in the main reading room on the 10th floor, one will be looking through a partial pyramid to a completed version on the hotel rooftop to the north.
How refreshing it is to see a big building allow itself to be big. There was clearly no impetus to break down the scale of the building with overtly friendly materials. The nearly completed City Hall to the south is a victim of this tactic. It is a fraction of the size of the library yet takes the cafeteria-style approach to materials in the hope of having something for everyone. By contrast, the library simply allows functional requirements and the desire to capitalize on specific views give it its expression and purpose. The library is somehow in sympathy with, while maintaining a level of indifference to, its surroundings. It is this duality that makes it such a compelling animal.
The library will be the city's best big building at two problematic times of year for this part of the world. The grayest of winter moments will be this building's time to shine, as the exterior glass takes on a silvery tint that will remind one of looking onto the water of Elliott Bay. When light appears to come from all directions, complete with a near absence of shadows, this building will add to that dynamic. From within, the new library will have so much filtered light, from so many directions, that it will help to redefine a new type of inside for the Northwest, the diffused light coming courtesy of a rather ingenious layer of expanded metal sandwiched between the double-paned window glass. (This layer will also act as miniature louvers to diffuse the intense light present here during summer.)
At night, the building will serve as a classic beacon of light--complete with the shadowy figures of structural elements and abrupt patches of intense color. At these times, the transparency will allow for distilled gazes at the extraordinary variety of spaces within. Moreover, the bold overhang of the top floor will provide a sublime opportunity for the building to catch the reflections of the moving traffic below. The white, red, and yellow lights will serve to activate the surface in a way that no other big building in Seattle is capable of. The steroid-influenced colors and shapes of EMP will appear cryogenically frozen by comparison.
There's a lot going on in this building, and the contents of the library itself will only add to the complexity. While it is obvious that some of what is interesting about the library is also quite unintentional, the entire project must be viewed as a product of boldness. The leap of faith bestowed upon this commission has successfully irrigated the site with potential. This was one of the initial intentions of the project and will ultimately be its greatest contribution.
Celebrity architect Rem Koolhaas,who designed the library, signs copies of the Office for Metropolitan Architecture's newest book, Content, at Peter Miller Books (1930 First Ave, 441-4114) on Sat March 13 at 8 pm. The event is free. Jerry Garcia is the head of the local design firm u.n.d. His work has appeared in Fine Homebuilding, Progressive Architecture, and elsewhere.
