You are receiving Construction Paper, a biweekly Saturday newsletter on design and architecture, as part of the CityLab Daily. The Great Emancipator has a secret: The Tennessee pink marble floor of the Lincoln Memorial, where the colossal figure of President Abraham Lincoln has been seated for more than a century on the National Mall in Washington, DC, conceals a vast underground space. All but forgotten after the memorial's construction in 1922, this monumental undercroft was rediscovered in 1975, and stakeholders have been considering ways to introduce the space to visitors ever since. While too late for the memorial's centennial, a plan to open the undercroft is finally taking shape. Next month construction begins on a $69 million campaign to open a new visitors center underneath the Lincoln Memorial, which will provide views of the concrete columns and arches that support the memorial, along with galleries for exhibitions and commerce. The Lincoln Memorial's expansion is in keeping with efforts to reclaim hidden infrastructure as new cultural space. New York's High Line and Houston's Buffalo Bayou Park Cistern both fall into this category, as do the (stalled) efforts to turn Washington, DC's old streetcar tunnels into an arts center. Restoring these overlooked spaces means giving new amenities and venues to residents (and tourists). Yet the undercroft project is also something else: It's a disruption to the vital simplicity of the Lincoln Memorial, one of the most elegant civic spaces on the National Mall. The renovation will open some 15,000 square feet of underground exhibition space. The memorial itself — a neoclassical temple designed by Henry Bacon — is a mere 750 square feet. That's a big shift to the overall experience. As it stands today, the Lincoln Memorial is as significant for what it doesn't say as for what it does. The 175-ton statue sits in eminence but not in judgment. Given pride of place across a reflecting pool from the Washington Monument, and situated at the top of a large series of stairs, the relatively small memorial chamber is supposed to draw in visitors. Lincoln's statue isn't sphinx-like — his memorial is framed by selections from the Gettysburg Address and the president's second inaugural address — but it is invested with gravity and austerity to inspire reflection among viewers. The Lincoln Memorial in April 2005. Photographer: KAREN BLEIER/AFP That's not to say that the memorial won't still do all those things once there's a bustling gift shop underneath Honest Abe's feet. Nor is the memorial a place for silent meditation today, not by any stretch. But the addition of a visitors center reflects a specific pressure in Washington to introduce some experiential element to exhibits or memorials that don't need that kind of explanation. Ever since the unveiling of the Vietnam Veterans Memorial — surely the city's most severe and minimalist monument — various entities have tried to add statues, visitors centers and other explanatory supplements. (The latest effort was only abandoned in 2018.) It would be a shame, of course, to leave such a wondrous sight as the Lincoln Memorial undercroft closed to viewers. And it's not clear yet whether the forthcoming visitors center will focus on the history and construction of the Lincoln Memorial or serve as a museum about Lincoln's life. (Or how many blaring video screens it will include). All these additions, even worthy ones, come at a cost. Every new visitors center contributes to an overall experience of the National Mall that is more loud and less quiet, more streaming and less serene. There is something to be said for enjoying a quiet moment without guidance — and without instruction — which is something that can't always be had in the proximity of exhibits and screens designed for education, entertainment and sales. -Kriston Capps New York City's Second Avenue subway line was the world's most expensive to build, and station design helps to explain why, as Skylar Woodhouse reports. (How NYC's Second Avenue Subway Became the World's Most Expensive Line) Curtis Moody designed the original Karl Road Branch Library in Columbus, Ohio, in 1988. More than 30 years later, an expanded library designed by his son Jonathan opened to take its place. The architects talked to me about what they learned in the process. (Father-and-Son Architects Leave Multigenerational Marks on a Columbus Library) A master plan by David Adjaye could transform the Cuyahoga River. Vince Guerrieri reports on what that means for Cleveland. (Cleveland Looks to an Unlikely Savior: a Long-Neglected River) Have something to share? Email us. And if you haven't yet signed up for the CityLab Daily newsletter, please do so here. |
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