The new Princeton University Art Museum, a 146,000-square-foot building located in the middle of the historic portion of Princeton’s campus, a few steps south of Nassau Hall, opened to the public Oct. 31 with a 24-hour Halloween extravaganza. Before continuing, let me get a couple of things out of the way. 1) I have little knowledge of, let alone academic training in, either art or architecture. 2) I am no fan of museums, often thinking — sometimes saying — the smaller, the better. Yet, I come to praise. My admiration has nothing to do with the facility itself or its contents. Rather, I’m impressed by the sheer boldness of the effort.
The University, in the person of the museum’s director, James Steward, gave the architect a challenging task — double the size of the former museum; display all of the artwork on one floor; situate the museum in the heart of the campus; and try to make it fit in with the mix of architectural styles represented in the surrounding buildings. The easy route would have been to relocate the museum on the outskirts of the campus, where it would have been less intrusive. But, rather than taking this approach, the University thought it important that the museum and its contents be present in the day-to-day lives of its students.
As the plans for the museum were made known, there were many skeptics. Yes, the interior would likely be spectacular, but we would be losing a large amount of historically open space, swallowed up by the museum’s enlarged footprint. When construction started and four walls of fencing were installed around the project, there were further concerns about what appeared to be a monolithic, warehouse-like structure. However, once the fencing was removed in time for Reunions in May (no coincidence, I’m sure), it was as if a butterfly had emerged from its chrysalis. I walked around the building several times and found it very appealing. With its nine interlocking pavilions (language I lifted from an architecture article), it no longer looked like a warehouse, and it seemed to blend well with the various styles and colors of the neighboring buildings. When the museum finally was opened, critics and, anecdotally, members of the general public were almost unanimous in their praise.
Most new buildings at Princeton are reasonably attractive, and I assume they are functional — but they are not memorable. In contrast, what I appreciate most about the museum project is its daring. In the literature of its just-concluded Venture Forward capital campaign, Princeton said that it wanted to make “audacious bets” in various areas. While I think that this language was intended to describe new research and academic initiatives, I think that it also accurately describes the vision for its new museum. Princeton made an audacious bet involving not only money — the museum cost a lot — but also its most iconic real estate. That it succeeded is all to the good, but what I most appreciate is the guts that it took to make it happen.
The new Princeton University Art Museum, a 146,000-square-foot building located in the middle of the historic portion of Princeton’s campus, a few steps south of Nassau Hall, opened to the public Oct. 31 with a 24-hour Halloween extravaganza. Before continuing, let me get a couple of things out of the way. 1) I have little knowledge of, let alone academic training in, either art or architecture. 2) I am no fan of museums, often thinking — sometimes saying — the smaller, the better. Yet, I come to praise. My admiration has nothing to do with the facility itself or its contents. Rather, I’m impressed by the sheer boldness of the effort.
The University, in the person of the museum’s director, James Steward, gave the architect a challenging task — double the size of the former museum; display all of the artwork on one floor; situate the museum in the heart of the campus; and try to make it fit in with the mix of architectural styles represented in the surrounding buildings. The easy route would have been to relocate the museum on the outskirts of the campus, where it would have been less intrusive. But, rather than taking this approach, the University thought it important that the museum and its contents be present in the day-to-day lives of its students.
As the plans for the museum were made known, there were many skeptics. Yes, the interior would likely be spectacular, but we would be losing a large amount of historically open space, swallowed up by the museum’s enlarged footprint. When construction started and four walls of fencing were installed around the project, there were further concerns about what appeared to be a monolithic, warehouse-like structure. However, once the fencing was removed in time for Reunions in May (no coincidence, I’m sure), it was as if a butterfly had emerged from its chrysalis. I walked around the building several times and found it very appealing. With its nine interlocking pavilions (language I lifted from an architecture article), it no longer looked like a warehouse, and it seemed to blend well with the various styles and colors of the neighboring buildings. When the museum finally was opened, critics and, anecdotally, members of the general public were almost unanimous in their praise.
Most new buildings at Princeton are reasonably attractive, and I assume they are functional — but they are not memorable. In contrast, what I appreciate most about the museum project is its daring. In the literature of its just-concluded Venture Forward capital campaign, Princeton said that it wanted to make “audacious bets” in various areas. While I think that this language was intended to describe new research and academic initiatives, I think that it also accurately describes the vision for its new museum. Princeton made an audacious bet involving not only money — the museum cost a lot — but also its most iconic real estate. That it succeeded is all to the good, but what I most appreciate is the guts that it took to make it happen.