For me, Dallas, Texas, known worldwide from the eponymous 1980s TV show, qualifies as a typical American city. Along with its close neighbor, Fort Worth, it's a bustling mishmash of urbanity built from nothing on the barren Texas landscape, making somewhere out of nowhere. There's nothing distinctive in Dallas' setting or history, although Fort Worth has a rich record of cowboys and cattlemen. But the Big D's blandness makes it a useful model for other cities, especially Charlotte, whose origins are similarly unspectacular.
I was thinking of Dallas recently because an e-mail newsletter from the Royal Institute of British Architects showcased the design of a stunning new opera house in that city's downtown. The English architect Lord (Norman) Foster, fresh from his latest achievement, the "erotic gherkin," an amazing, dildo-shaped ecological skyscraper in the heart of London, has unveiled his firm's design for the new Dallas Opera House. This exciting new structure will eventually take its place in the downtown arts district, near I. M. Pei's symphony hall, Edward Larabee Barnes' art museum, a sculpture museum by Italian Renzo Piano, and a new building by Dutch designer Rem Koolhas, architect of the much-praised Seattle public library.
Foster's firm was engaged to create an urban master plan for the district and to devise within it a new venue for world-class performances. The dramatic design provides a 21st century interpretation of the traditional horseshoe-shaped opera house. The building comprises a vivid vermillion drum breaking through a 60-foot high wall of glazing enclosing the public concourses, bringing the city right into the building. Outside, there is another piece of high-tech poetry, a soaring canopy that shelters a public plaza at the heart of the master plan. Not to be outdone, adjacent Fort Worth has three great art museums by American icons Philip Johnson and Louis Kahn and Japanese maestro Tadeo Ando.
None of these world-renowned architects are household names in Charlotte (one partner in a well-established Charlotte architectural firm had never heard of Norman Foster), but this retinue of design talent is an incredible international showcase for one metropolitan area. The wonderful buildings these architects have designed for the Dallas-Fort Worth Metroplex have transformed the cultural life of the twin cities and dramatically improved their image and world standing. It's no longer cattle and cowboys that rule the roost. It's fine art -- painting, sculpture, classical music and now even opera!
Dallas and Fort Worth are doing things Charlotte finds difficult, and they're doing them in style. Both cities have long spent money on great cultural institutions that foster national and international renown. Those crazy Texans even have a great light rail system, and they can't extend it fast enough to meet demand! What can they be thinking of -- wasting all that money on elitist projects and un-American social engineering? We all know, of course, that anything to do with light rail is a plot to take away people's cars.
I can't help compare Dallas' can-do attitude and high ambition with Charlotte's doubt-ridden parochialism. Would anybody in this flush financial fiefdom think about commissioning a master plan by one of the top architects in the world and then embracing innovative design for new cultural buildings? Sadly, this seems beyond the experience and imagination of Charlotte's civic and business leaders, and, unhappily, beyond most of the members of the city's arts elite as well. The civic conversation in Charlotte can barely climb above the level of fixing potholes so commuters can drive their rugged SUVs faster.
All Charlotte can offer is a patchwork of projects with little coherence or vision. Our civic agenda has never been informed by a great architectural mind. Charlotte remains a city of retrogressive architecture, with yesterday's ideas endlessly recycled and repackaged. Sticking fake columns on modern buildings is a doomed effort to apply a veneer of sophistication to boring, outdated boxes. Rather than embrace the future like Dallas, we're much too concerned to make our buildings look old in a pathetic, guilt-ridden attempt to replace the authentic history we recklessly tore down. But if Texans can build great buildings, why can't we?