High-Rise Meets High Art

"I call architecture frozen music” proclaimed the German polymath Johann Wolfgang von Goethe nearly two hundred years ago.  It seems appropriate to evoke this over-worn quote to describe architect Jeanne Gang’s award winning modernist high-rise Aqua, the exterior of which appears to hold frozen lakes and rivers within its surface.

Goethe, himself a writer, artist and scientist, could appreciate when two professions with major differences merged to create something extraordinary.  Aqua is a stunning example of the coupling of architecture, an industry riddled with compliance, and art, an industry that thrives on defiance.  Chicago architecture critic Blair Kamin, a glowing supporter of Aqua, addresses this merger in his 2009 review: “The balconies elevate an otherwise-ordinary concrete-framed structure to the level of art.”

The wavy hand-formed concrete outdoor terraces wrap entirely, yet also interruptedly, around on each floor creating the overall appearance of an enormous dinosaur rib cage lowered and fitted onto a simple rectangular glass building.  The dull white of the bones contrasts with the shimmering blue of the ice that lies between the skeletal interruptions. 

Another of Aqua’s aesthetic achievements is its ability to transform.  The Aqua you see from Millennium Park will be different from the Aqua you see from directly underneath the tower.  Or during the bright of day as opposed to the dark of night.  (The best viewing experience would be close up during the day.)  Within Aqua’s newly-opened Radisson Blu Hotel is an example of this effect.  If you walk past the front desk, through the lobby, past the bar, you find a “secret art gallery” (hallway).  There on the wall is a 3D painting of an art gallery by British artist Patrick Hughes.  As you slowly walk past it, the accordion-like wood composition changes as parts of the work are obscured by others.  Due to this effect, Aqua can appear to be a composition of bone-formed hills with valleys of frozen ice, or one entirely formed by frozen waves.

According to publicity materials, the “waves” are inspired by the Great Lakes.  It could be argued, however, that main influence originated from the south Atlantic.  Brazilian architect Oscar Niemeyer (still alive at 103) used a similar technique with his apartment buildings in Belo Horizonte and Sao Paulo, Brazil, during the 1950s.  Paulo Niemeyer Apartments, built in Belo Horizonte between 1954 and 1960, bares the strongest resemblance to Aqua – minus the wavy quality of Gang’s terraces.  Despite this blatant similarity, Blair Kamin’s review of Aqua makes no mention of Niemeyer.  He does, however, aptly reference Chicago architect Bertrand Goldberg’s Marina City complex (completed 1964).

For those unfamiliar with the work of Niemeyer, the waves of Aqua may bring to mind more animated comparisons.  During the Toccata and Fugue section of Disney’s 1940 animated film Fantasia (the brief “wave scene”), one may find what rolls toward the screen resembles quite closely what rolls across the glass façade of 225 North Columbus Drive.