Helmut Jahn’s State Street Village
represents urban architecture at its best.
If only it wasn’t strictly for students
Standing
in a crowd is a demanding social situation. Are you being polite? Are
you in danger? Are you where you want to be? If you don’t want
complexity, if you don’t want uncertainty, if you don’t want to rub
elbows with your neighbor, well, there’s always Kansas City, the least
dense city in the United States.
On
similar terms, buildings in cities are standing in a crowd. Illinois
Institute of Technology’s (IIT) State Street Village, the two-year-old
dormitory (higher educational institutions have come up with a
remarkable array of names to substitute for this dreaded ‘60s era word,
but State Street Village is in fact a dormitory) is an emphatically
successful urban building, a work of architecture that embraces its
crowded site and the surrounding city.
The
building’s architect is Helmut Jahn. Well-known to Chicago, Jahn has
created a wonderful paradox for Chicagoans. He recently completed 600
N. Fairbanks, a new condominium tower at the corner of Fairbanks and
Ontario. Comparing the two buildings, buyers of the easily forgettable
600 building have to ask themselves, would I rather live here or on
South State? The answer is obvious. State Street Village is a building
to die for. But why?
The dormitory’s
success begins with its site, which is remarkably narrow. Squeezed
between State Street and the “L” tracks, it runs for hundreds of feet
along State, just east of the remarkable assemblage of Mies van der
Rohe buildings, including the iconic Crown Hall. It has good neighbors
who in their own way demand attention. In this context, the dorm raises
its voice a bit to be heard, which is what urban architecture is all
about.
The building in section is roughly a
square, with the top and west sides defined by a curved line. This
section is extruded along a north/south axis running parallel to the
elevated tracks. (Unquestionably Mr. Jahn’s most successful works are
two-dimensional forms that are extruded into three dimensions, such as
the United Airlines Terminal at O’Hare.) This linear form is chopped
into six segments, each housing dormitory rooms on four levels. In the
five gaps between the six segments are, alternatively, an entry and
elevator or an open walkway allowing pedestrians to pass through the
building, connecting the parking areas east of the tracks to the campus
west of the tracks.
Perhaps its most
surprising feature is its relationship to the “L”, which passes within
a few feet of its eastern edge. Rem Koolhaas, designer of IIT’s
McCormick Tribune Campus Center, tried to teach us a lesson about the
relationship between urban buildings and urban infrastructure. So just
to the north of State Street Village, we have the $11 million stainless
steel tube that is intended to isolate the Campus Center from the “L.”
Although Koolhaas has delivered a number of remarkable urban buildings,
including the Seattle Central Library, Jahn turns the tables on him.
The
entry and elevator links, which cluster the six segments into three
buildings, are entirely glass to the west and to the east, where the
glass is only a few feet from the tracks. Riding up to
one of the upper levels and stepping off the elevator, you are often
treated to the spectacle of a fast moving “L” train screaming past your
face. It is big, dynamic and urban, beating Koolhaas’ “isolation” gesture.
But
it doesn’t stop there. Each dorm room is an expression of modern
minimalism. The ceilings and floors are raw concrete. The furniture is
also minimalist, designed by Jahn in collaboration with Heltzer
Furniture, which now operates under another name. It is raw, ethereal
and all about where design is today.
If
this isn’t enough, wander up to the fourth floor, where the building
opens to a series of rooftop terraces with unexpected and emphatically
framed views of the Chicago skyline.
So
if you just forked over anywhere from $495,000 to $1.3 million in the
600 N. Fairbanks building, put your unit on the market and register for
classes at IIT, where you can rent a single suite for $5,700 a
semester.
But there is a larger lesson
here. State Street Village is not a singular idea. It instead engages
at every turn the surrounding city. Its extruding stainless steel form
alludes to its neighbor, the campus center. Its length defines the edge
of the historic Mies campus, while framing perforations that celebrate
movement from east to west. It embraces movement and speed in its
framing of the “L” trains, and its raw expressive interiors are
hyper-modern. But best of all, for all its engagement in urbanity, its
rooftop terraces provide a moment of sanctuary, a place of reflection.
State Street Village has a symbiotic relationship with the city. It
makes the city a better place, and in turn, the city makes the building
a better piece of architecture.