CREJ

MARCH 2017 \ BUILDING DIALOGUE \

In the Details

Comparatively, Denver may be young, but it need not

appear shallowly constructed, with importance placed

on speed over design. One common complaint leveled by

those who stop and look at Denver is the homogeneity

and, by design, uniformity of size, scale and character. Of

course, a building does not need to be the Tower of Lon-

don to contribute to the character of a neighborhood or

reward the passersby with its presence. One way to add

depth to the story of Denver is building with materials

that age and patina. We can add

exceptions, exclusions, in-

congruities

and

contradictions,

and

consider

how our ma-

terial choices to affect the light and the mood of our city.

Our buildings have the capacity not only to draw in the

tourist, but also to give pause to generations of Denverites.

Another way to add depth to the city is to celebrate the

new; it does not have to look old. Zaha Hadid’s architec-

ture of movement and dynamic forms excites us with the

possibilities of things so new they may still be from the

future. Frank Lloyd Wright’s buildings, though distinctly

of their time, are still used as the sets for science fiction

films. Daniel Libeskind’s Hamilton Building at the Den-

ver Art Museum marks a moment in Denver’s history; a

conversation-starter by its very existence. It is clear that

we travel for the new as much as the old. As we stop and

observe our city, note the accent and punctuation added

by modern influences. Consider how we might add more

modern poetry to our practical, background prose.

Much like the difference between taking a jog and lis-

tening to background music, versus actively listening for

the individual instruments in a symphony, some days we

may float through the cacophony of the city, paying little

attention to the details, while other days, in mindful ob-

servation, we can focus in on a singular chord that catches

our attention. Each building, then, is an instrument, each

street a chord. Some days we listen to the modern brass,

and some days we enjoy the clear tones of a single, vener-

able violin. This city, this Denver, can celebrate the dichot-

omy of old and new in symphony.

Given the opportunity, many of us would take a trip

around the world to experience the unknown, to see the

new, the old and the unfamiliar. This “seeing,” this open-

ing of our eyes, which is the essential component of a re-

warding travel experience, could happen anywhere, any-

time, even right here. A tropical beach, an ancient city or

signs in a foreign language are not essential in leading us

to inspiration and introspection.

Inspired by the tourists photographing the staircase, I

paid a visit to the writer peddling poems on a classic type-

writer outside the Tattered Cover bookstore. This deliber-

ate act of stopping, wandering and observing marked the

beginning of a new attitude to Denver’s street life for me. I

now make a point of regularly stopping to simply observe

the city that really exists before me. I listen to the clatter

of the trains and the splashing of the fountain. I smell the

city first thing in the morning. Pause, look, listen. What

will inspire you?