This is not an easy piece for me to write. I worked at the Tampa Museum of Art for a short period several years ago, and many colleagues from that time are still there. (And – full disclosure – in 2002 I applied unsuccessfully for a curator's position.) So feelings may be hurt. Accusations of sour grapes may be flung.
Still, amidst all the hand-wringing over the new-museum-in-limbo, it's been too long since anyone has commented on the dead elephant in the room: the design.
Lately, supporters of the new facility blame Mayor Iorio for funding delays resulting in cost escalation. Detractors have taken museum director Emily Kass to task for project and fundraising problems. Iorio and Kass are between rocks and hard places. Kass began plans for a new museum after then-Mayor Greco's committee picked Rafael Viñoly as the architect. Iorio inherited the plan a year later and now has to protect the city's financial risk while promoting the arts and downtown redevelopment in Tampa.
I blame the architect.
Our culture is in a phase of worshiping what one architecture critic calls "starchitects." Cities hire big names such as Frank Gehry, Daniel Liebeskind, and Renzo Piano to design singular public buildings to jump-start culture and build legacies for term-limited politicians.
Mayor Dick Greco was star-struck by Viñoly and his design. Introducing Viñoly and his design in June 2002, he recalled telling the architect: "I want something that's wow." He was impressed with Viñoly's response that not only could he deliver wow, but "I'll bring you something in a couple of weeks."
The arts community hated the design from the start. Many people likened it to a giant gas station or a parking garage. The "wow" factor was the outsized trellis that covered not only the building beneath it, but the one next door and the street in front. One artist friend, after the election of Mayor Iorio, suggested rallying the arts community to meet with the mayor to "demand" that the Viñoly design be abandoned. That didn't happen. (For this story, no one wanted to be quoted as disliking it, even anonymously. Tampa is a very small town.)
There are fans of the Viñoly design. But those who have praised it to me are either on the museum board or staff, big donors, or have some other connection to the project. Others fear being called philistines for not supporting art, not liking contemporary architecture, or worse, not understanding it. I am curious to hear from a supporter who does not fit into one of these categories.
Tampa Museum of Art Curator Jose Gelats, who is also an architect, has worked directly with Viñoly's office to resolve design problems. Kass, Gelats and the museum staff have worked overtime to oversee the design process and insure that the functional needs of the museum are met. Plans for the interior reflect a considered and consistent attention to the public and staff needs. The building more than triples the exhibition, public and storage space that are badly needed. From the inside, it may well be a successful project.
The building as centerpiece of a downtown arts district is another question. A few weeks ago, I received a mass e-mail from the Tampa Museum of Art, listing answers to frequently asked questions about the new museum. I was frustrated to see that it didn't answer any of mine. Here's my list.
1. Where's grandeur, gravity, beauty, integrity, classicism? An art museum houses and protects our cultural icons; at least one of these descriptives should apply. Yet the building does not cohere. It's all posts and poles and grids and vertical planes and cantilevers. Modernism and classicism share design ideals of economy and order that are sorely missing.
2. What happened to the master plan for the creative arts district created by Skidmore, Owings and Merrill in 2001? The goal of making Ashley Street into a grand boulevard has been compromised by the overhang of the museum's trellis.
3. Why the cold industrial style for our hot subtropical city? A public building should welcome you. The grey metallic and concrete materials are forbidding. On the approach, visitors will have the feeling of walking under ladders or entering a construction zone. The front entrance and lobby are hard to discern, part of a long street-level expanse of glass. It feels like the entrance to an airport terminal or shopping mall.
4. Where's historic Tampa? Viñoly claims inspiration from the awnings of Ybor City, but the human scale and the awnings are missing, with only their bare framework imitated in giant scale.
5. Where's the river? The riverfront is hidden from the street by the three-block length of the parallel building. Viñoly has left open-air spaces at different levels, but these are not visible from street level. Steps or ramps must take you to another level to see the view west. From inside the building, the river view and minarets of the University of Tampa are viewed through the inescapable bars of the trellis.
6. Where's the park? In a city and region lushly defined by the water and vegetation, landscape architecture should be primary. While the architect referred to the site as a park, and was obsessed with providing shade, green space and the river are an afterthought rather than integral components of this design.
7. Why does the design disrespect the art? The roof sculpture garden and all of the exterior spaces that will house art are shaded by the trellis that will cast striped shadows over every piece. The architectural renderings even illustrate this thoughtless feature.
8. How much will revisions cost? Delay for revisions has caused cost escalation for the original construction materials. New materials mandated by revisions add more to the cost. We should also know what the cost of the dysfunctional aluminum trellis amounts to.
The Tampa Museum of Art is a well-established and growing art museum, with perhaps the strongest collection of Greek and Roman art in the southeastern United States. It has a respected collection of contemporary art, mostly works on paper. It deserves a home that values its strengths, respects its limitations and expands its potential.
If the city were to decide not to fund the additional $30 million needed, the museum could move out of the virtual shadow of a poor design. By forgoing the wow factor, we might have a museum and park that draw people back after their first curiosity visit. It would be worth the wait for a strong and appropriately scaled concept that is realized enough to be successful, maybe even sublime.
Rafael Viñoly's building does not fit the bill. Its defining feature – the urban canopy – is an overbearing adornment with no aesthetic and little functional merit. I know we're down almost $8 million to his firm, but perhaps there is a way to recoup some of that. We was robbed.
This article appears in Mar 23-29, 2005.