As I write this, I’m sitting at the counter at Zippy’s, a small diner in downtown that serves my favorite brand of diner food: the simple, classic grilled cheese with fries. Not the most sophisticated of foods, true, but some days are grilled cheese days, and this was a grilled cheese day.
Zippy’s is located at the intersection of 3rd & Houston, and 3rd Street is buzzing with activity these days. That’s because a new building, the Carnegie, is going up right down the street between Taylor & Lamar. Now, any time something gets built, there are the usual opinions about its design, but this one is particularly offensive to the architecture snobs out there because it’s a neo-traditional building. It’s a rather ’20s-looking thing, and the complaints from those wanting something cold, glassy, and steel-hued have been numerous.

Me? I like it. It’s got great proportions, good massing, and what looks to be great street presence & pedestrian appeal. No, it’s not going to be in the running for some French architectural prize, but it feels right in its setting. It is warm and friendly to pedestrians, which I find far more important than its lack of titanium window screens.
What the Carnegie’s critics forget is that sometimes, it’s important for a building to just be a good building, not a high-minded art project. Those may win friends in architectural circles, but the people walking by on the street often suffer. A great urban space is key, and if that means warm, friendly brick and stone over chilly steel, concrete, and glass, then so be it.
Context isn’t everything, but it is a thing. (Yes, I know. Profound.) The Carnegie pays attention to context in several ways – its shaping and massing call to mind the Fort Worth Club building, while its buff brick pays homage to, well, half of downtown. That same sort of brick built the Electric Building, the Neil P. Anderson building, the Fort Worth Club, the Fair Building, the YWCA (right next door to the Carnegie site, in fact), etc. When you build something that recognizes the presence of its forerunners, rather than sticks a finger in the eye of the neighborhood, people like and identify with it. They want to be around it.
Look, I know most people think of me by this point as a hopeless traditionalist. I’m not – I just think moderation is key. A bold modernist tower is like a blast of cold water in your face when they appear sparingly, but a flood of them drowns a neighborhood. For the most part, people like brick. They like stone. They like details like columns and carvings and patterns. They certainly like them more than blank glass and bare concrete, that’s for sure. So, I’m happy to have the Carnegie join the neighborhood.
Now let’s just hurry up and get it built.
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