Liquid Stone. New Architecture in Concrete.
09|23|2005
Frank Hamilton — Life In The District, September 23, 2005
It’s hard to feel passionate about concrete.
Sure, we’ve all taken a romantic stroll along a moonlit sidewalk. Who hasn’t experienced the anticipation of the ocean after catching a glimpse of blue water while crossing a coastal bridge? I’m sure it never occurred to you to say, ‘Thanks, concrete, for making this moment possible.’
But it did make that moment possible. Sweet, glorious, concrete.
Perhaps the reason people don’t feel passionate about concrete is because it’s so, well’ ordinary. The promotional information about the Liquid Stone exhibit at the National Building Museum describes concrete as the ’second most widely consumed resource in the world, after water.’ The reason why? It’s the foundation in your house, the supports on the highway, the skin of power plants and the skeleton of parking garages. It’s cheap and easy to use, absolutely malleable and as any victim of gravity knows, hard as rock.
But the moment you enter the exhibit you realize there’s a lot about concrete you don’t know. There’s a guaranteed bottleneck on busy days by the series of clear tubes containing concrete’s raw ingredients. And people are generally compelled to touch the display examples of what concrete looks like when it succeeds in mixture and when it fails. These simple but intimate beginnings inspire an immediate feeling that you’ve just jumped the barriers surrounding a construction site and now it’s time to go exploring.
And there’s plenty to explore.
The exhibit starts off with the structure of concrete ‘ how it works and what it can do. But don’t expect snapshots of parking garages and overpasses ‘ the structures featured here are delicate studies in architectural balance and innovative, modern design. And if you simply can’t believe that a building can float, check out the large, buoyant sphere of concrete gently bobbing in a water tank, looking more like a beach ball than a building material.
The exhibit flows from Structure into Surface and onwards to Sculptural Form, arriving at the Future of Concrete which really has to be seen to be believed. Each section has its surprises; from a kitchen countertop made of brushed concrete with an inset, shallow bowl to a Spanish chapel in Valleacer’n designed entirely through the exercise of folding a piece of paper. My personal favorite? The Pixel Chapel, created from semi-translucent concrete (you read that right) so that during the day the interior looks like a planetarium, its surface occasionally broken only by the silhouette of a passerby.
It’s these sort of well-placed surprises that makes the exhibit extraordinary and has brought a sort of rock star status to concrete and its supporters. Martin Moeller, Senior Vice President for Special Projects and curator of the exhibit confessed that he’s been to cocktail parties in the last year and unexpectedly found himself the focus of attention. It might seem a little odd, but those who have gone kicking and screaming to a concrete exhibit are finding religion in a big way.
Passion? For concrete?
Since Liquid Stone debuted in June of 2004, the National Building Museum has experienced an unprecedented amount of traffic. Over 100,000 people have visited the exhibit, confessing in both the comment book and post-visit emails that they had simply never thought of concrete in that way before. According to Moeller, many of the same people have come back two and three times, sometimes bringing others and sometimes by themselves.
I understand the appeal. I, myself have been back twice and certainly plan on going again. Each time I’ve walked in I’ve felt what I imagine all of us groupies have felt about the long running exhibit ‘ lucky. Lucky that, due to the overwhelming response Liquid Stone has been extended not just once but twice. Originally slated to pack up in January of 2005, it was extended first to June and then, finally to January, 2006 when it has to come down.
Why? Well, all good things must come to an end. There are other exhibits waiting in the wings and like jealous bridesmaids they want to be the bride. There’s the possibility of a scaled-down tour in Paris, though and, of course, a fantastic website (though strangely, no bulletin boards for fans to wax poetic over the Jubilee Church or the rare Tadao Ando footage of his select group of craftsman constructing framing another sublime work of grandeur). But of course it simply won’t be the same. You know what I mean?
Well, maybe you don’t. Maybe you haven’t been.
Maybe you haven’t felt what we feel ‘ a sense of renewed discovery in the world around you. A feeling of possibility, that structural design can transcend the limitations of ninety degree angles and the obtuseness of solid walls. Maybe it all sounds silly to you and you don’t want to make the trek down to Judiciary Square. But I challenge you to hold back and not say out loud, as you stand in front of the block of translucent concrete, ‘this is so COOL!’
This article first appeared on Life In The District.