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| The first blog photo taken by me! |
Buildings have all sorts of vibes...awe from Westminster Abbey, hope from the Statue of Liberty, history and courage from Independence Hall and revulsion from KFC (admit it, you’ve felt it too). But there is a special 'wisdom' vibe that comes from buildings and monuments that hold great knowledge.
I felt it at the Lincoln & Vietnam Memorials, I felt it at the Arts Building at McGill, where I went to school, and on the steps of the Widener Library at Harvard and it washed over me like a tidal wave as I faced the McKim Building of the Boston Public Library.
Last week my daughter and I climbed up the last steps of the subway station and emerged into the blinding sun. I blinked and tried to get my bearing, which only took a millisecond, because I was face to face with the building I had been staring at on my computer for the last week. I grabbed my daughters arm, just in case she wasn’t aware of the presence of greatness, “Look,” I gasped, “there it is.”
It wasn’t just the massive stone structure that rose above the Starbucks and the rushing tourists, the great arched windows set into the marble walls and the epic murals lining the walls, it was the combination of extreme physical beauty with deep felt belief - a wisdom vibe.
Last week my daughter and I climbed up the last steps of the subway station and emerged into the blinding sun. I blinked and tried to get my bearing, which only took a millisecond, because I was face to face with the building I had been staring at on my computer for the last week. I grabbed my daughters arm, just in case she wasn’t aware of the presence of greatness, “Look,” I gasped, “there it is.”
It wasn’t just the massive stone structure that rose above the Starbucks and the rushing tourists, the great arched windows set into the marble walls and the epic murals lining the walls, it was the combination of extreme physical beauty with deep felt belief - a wisdom vibe.
The vibe is similar to the feel you get at a cathedral or sacred place, but even better because of the books. A building created “by the people, for the people” more than 150 years ago was deeply satisfying because the “people” in this case weren’t just the rich, educated, beautiful people but everyone who longed to learn.
The creation of the BPL in 1854 marked a change in the way Americans viewed knowledge and access to books. We began to believe that all people had the right to learn and improve their place in the world. The McKim Building didn't come along until 1898 but it symbolises these foundational ideas of the BPL from 50 years before. And now, we are so accustomed to the idea, that it doesn't even seem radical or even that exciting.
Boston's public library was created at the same time that Horace Mann and Henry Barnard spread their ideas of public education. Massachusetts was the first state to pass a law for compulsary education in 1852 - two years before the library opened in a schoolhouse on Mason Street. It was a hotbed of reform and opportunity for all social classes.
Giant letters carved in stone on the exterior of the building announced the idea to world: “The Public Library in the City of Boston built by the people and dedicated to the advancement of learning.”
And then there was a tangible feeling of effort, energy, work and artistry that was reflected in almost every surface. Hours, months and years of work poured into mosaics, plaster work, sculpture, painting and construction, all with the intention of creating a space so beautiful that it would inspire and “lift up” all those who came in search of learning and discovery.
The creation of the BPL in 1854 marked a change in the way Americans viewed knowledge and access to books. We began to believe that all people had the right to learn and improve their place in the world. The McKim Building didn't come along until 1898 but it symbolises these foundational ideas of the BPL from 50 years before. And now, we are so accustomed to the idea, that it doesn't even seem radical or even that exciting.
Boston's public library was created at the same time that Horace Mann and Henry Barnard spread their ideas of public education. Massachusetts was the first state to pass a law for compulsary education in 1852 - two years before the library opened in a schoolhouse on Mason Street. It was a hotbed of reform and opportunity for all social classes.
Giant letters carved in stone on the exterior of the building announced the idea to world: “The Public Library in the City of Boston built by the people and dedicated to the advancement of learning.”
And then there was a tangible feeling of effort, energy, work and artistry that was reflected in almost every surface. Hours, months and years of work poured into mosaics, plaster work, sculpture, painting and construction, all with the intention of creating a space so beautiful that it would inspire and “lift up” all those who came in search of learning and discovery.
The beauty, philosophy and commitment swirled together until they merged like a crouching panther waiting to spring at anyone who stepped across the threshold. After bravely stepping through the door, the full effect brings you to your knees, making you draw in your breath and stopping you in your tracks to stare in awe.
This is not a space to walk through, it is a space to absorb slowly and thoughtfully. And so I stop almost as soon as I enter the doors to stare in wonder at the names of famous Bostonians pieced together with tiny little tiles in the mosaic ceiling and then again to smile in delight at the noble lions halfway up the staircase. And while I pet the lions (I am not a germaphobe) I hear water tinkling softly. When I cross to the window and peer out I cannot believe my eyes- a beautiful enclosed courtyard with a reflecting pool and Bacchante fountain - it just doesn’t get any better than this.
I immediately decide I must move to Boston so I can eat my lunch and read while siting in Bacchante’s courtyard. Library bliss.
This is not a space to walk through, it is a space to absorb slowly and thoughtfully. And so I stop almost as soon as I enter the doors to stare in wonder at the names of famous Bostonians pieced together with tiny little tiles in the mosaic ceiling and then again to smile in delight at the noble lions halfway up the staircase. And while I pet the lions (I am not a germaphobe) I hear water tinkling softly. When I cross to the window and peer out I cannot believe my eyes- a beautiful enclosed courtyard with a reflecting pool and Bacchante fountain - it just doesn’t get any better than this.
I immediately decide I must move to Boston so I can eat my lunch and read while siting in Bacchante’s courtyard. Library bliss.
We no longer make places like this - they are far too expensive, time consuming and, some would argue, ornamental and even unnecessary. The cities I’ve visited lately have built shiny new sports stadiums, not libraries or museums. But sports pays off in expensive tickets, t-shirts and tourist revenues. And the library only offers the wisdom, knowledge, beauty and the opportunity to create the life you want, no beer.
I’m not an advocate of grand displays of public money which is funny because I can’t help think that if we did have more places like the McKim Building, people might be inspired to think great thoughts, read great books and maybe feel less trapped by their circumstances. At the very least more of the ‘public’ would be able to step across the threshold and be lifted up.
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