Robert Sharoff and William Zbaren are much more than today's finest writer/photographer team now producing books on American architecture. They are urban archeologists who methodically examine their chosen subjects and then thoughtfully construct narratives that shed new light on their meaning. Their genius is not just in the way they reinterpret a city's familiar signature buildings - it's also in the attention and affection they lavish on structures that are much less known and appreciated. In so doing they reveal the true breadth and depth of a city's cultural and commercial ambitions. Every American city has its crown jewels, buildings and spaces designed to tell the world that they are indeed a prosperous and proud place. But it is the lesser structures - public schools, municipal offices, factories, office buildings and the civic art of public spaces - that expose the true level of commitment that community leaders and residents have made to their city and their culture, and the belief they have in their future.
In "American City: Detroit Architecture," Sharoff and Zbaren covered the Motor City's grand structures designed by well known masters - the Detroit Public Library by Cass Gilbert, the Dime Building by D. H. Burnham and Company, Cadillac Place by Albert Kahn and John Portman's iconic Renaissance Center. However, it was the relatively unknown structures that Sharoff and Zbaren included - the Women's City Club by William Stratton, the Banker's Trust Company Building by Smith, Hinchman and Grylls and Cobo Hall and the Convention Center by Giffels and Rossetti - that truly spoke to Detroit's ambitions, grandeur and prowess.
"American City: St. Louis Architecture" continues this approach. Yes, Saarinen's great arch is given its due, but it is also shown its proper place - its two page spread is the same number of pages that the authors devote to Harris Armstrong's enigmatic Grant Clinic. Minoru Yamasaki's magnificent Lambert Field Main Terminal is featured, but turn the page and you find Fumihiko Maki's sublime Steinberg Hall. Sullivan's seminal Wainwright Building gets two full spreads, but so does William Ittner's peerless brick palace for children, Patrick Henry School.
Collectively, these images and words reintroduce to the world to a remarkable city. Like it's great rival, Chicago, St. Louis was also most decidedly a "city on the make" in the years following the Civil War. In the post-fire decades that Chicago was topping off one new landmark building after another, so too was St. Louis, but in its own distinctive style and manner. Moreover, the building boom in St. Louis didn't stop with the 1904 World's Fair (frequently referenced as the city's zenith), as evidenced by the striking buildings the book features from the City Beautiful era.
In the end, I think Sharoff and Zbaren are telling a story about St. Louis that is timely and long overdue:
"You may think you know what this city. Or, perhaps you've never given St. Louis a moment's thought. It's possible that you have ideas and perceptions that have been informed by the never ending stream of today's Rustbelt ruin porn. But you should take another look at St. Louis This a unique place with a formidable history of doing and being. If you want to see how an American city can function as a work of civic art in the future, take a look at what St. Louis built during its most dynamic and prosperous years."
Sharoff and Zbaren have started a new conversation about St. Louis, one that has been greatly enhanced by their words and images. In so doing, they and their patrons have given St. Louis a magnificent gift - a compelling narrative of the city's most enduring and endearing cultural artifacts. The thread they have started is open for continued discussion. One hopes that someone or some institution in St. Louis understands the remarkable opportunity this book gives them to celebrate and showcase their city. And, once they do, that the celebration continues for a long time.