Over a year ago, I wrote a column arguing that many of Dartmouth’s recent buildings do not respect the campus’ historical fabric. Newer additions, as I stated, are often architecturally lazy, trying to find a middle ground between appearing modern and fitting in with the Georgian red-brick theme of the College’s older buildings. This results in an unsatisfying appearance that achieves neither goal. Since that piece, multiple new campus projects have either begun construction or neared completion, including the West Wheelock residences and the renovation of the Fayerweather Halls. Rather than improving upon past additions, however, these projects continue the trend of poorly thought-out modernism. More so, they say something about the College’s shaky relationship with its own historical aesthetic.
The new West Wheelock residences seem to largely follow the same unfortunate formula that I discussed in my prior column. The designs feature red-brick facades in an attempt to fit in with the campus’ overarching Georgian theme but lack any of the details — such as cornices or quoins — that would make them true recreations of classical architecture. What results is a design that is overtly modern, but not in a creative or ambitious way.
The Fayerweather renovation runs into a different problem. Rather than make a half-baked attempt to blend in with the brick of the surrounding buildings, the newly constructed annexes connecting the three Fayerweather Halls clearly state their modernity in contrast to the original buildings they are attached to, dressed in a facade of bronze terracotta tiles.
Would this, then, be the kind of ambitious, creative modernity that Dartmouth should strive for in its new structures? Absolutely not. The annexes’ bulky, protruding structure disrupts the elegant proportions of the Fayerweather Halls, which were originally built to mirror the adjacent Dartmouth, Thornton and Wentworth Halls. The new facades crudely meet the old without any attempt to create continuity. Terracotta paneling doesn’t cover up the fact that the annexes are disproportionate and impose on what was once a historic quad on campus. It’s one thing to build creative modern buildings that are positioned in a way that respects the school’s older buildings, but it seems here that Dartmouth is actively disrupting its history by injecting modernity into the core of its old campus.
This strained relationship between modern and classical architecture is not at all unique to the Fayerweather renovations, but traces back to the mid-20th century, when the modernist architectural movement first began. The new movement rejected the ornamentation of classical architecture. In the process of reinventing cities to meet this new standard, modernist monoliths were often built into historic centers. In Boston, for example, the imposing John Hancock Tower was built in the center of the historic Copley Square, overshadowing the adjacent Trinity Church. This movement reached college campuses as well. In 1961, Cornell University built Olin Library along its historic Arts Quad, replacing the Romanesque Boardman Hall. Brown University, meanwhile, built the brutalist Sciences Library not far from its historic Main Quad. It was as if ancient colleges were in a race to separate themselves from their history, viewing a modern appearance as a new status symbol.
By the end of the 1970s, modernism was on its way out as architects turned back to ornamentation. Today, it seems that historic universities have rediscovered the value of a classical appearance — as I discussed in my first piece, Yale University and Vanderbilt University have been building their new projects in classical styles. Yet, for some reason, Dartmouth still doesn’t seem to get the memo. The school has continued to build in ways that disturb its history, and the Fayes aren’t the only proof. Berry Library was constructed in 1998 as a hulking, modern attachment to the back of Baker Library. There is perhaps no more effective way to disrupt the historical fabric of a campus than to attach a bland box to the back of the campus’ classical centerpiece.
The renovation of the Fayes is just the most recent example of the College’s established fetish for imposing modernism onto its historical spaces. This desire to move away from historical aesthetics extends beyond just architecture. As my fellow columnists Luke Montalbano ’27 and Ramsey Alsheikh ’26 discussed some time ago, Dartmouth’s recent decision to replace its historic seal represents the same kind of desire to aesthetically modernize the College. The old seal was racist and had to change, but, rather than creating a new seal that reflects and confronts the school’s history, the College chose to adopt a minimalist, corporate “D-Pine” logo. The College is running away from historical aesthetics in every way.
It’s difficult to trace the College’s rationale. Perhaps it believes that modernizing its appearance would help it stand out among its peers and build its image. The College does seem to take pride in going its own way — the school has advertised its institutional restraint policy as being unique and innovative among its peers, and College President Sian Leah Beilock has become a figurehead for an institution that claims to do things differently. An architectural reinvention could go hand-in-hand with policy change.
But if the College’s rationale is indeed to build its image, then this aesthetic modernization is a grave mistake. The prestigious image of Ivy League institutions does not come from the fact that they are sleek or modern — it comes from the fact that they are historic and long-established, that they are the “Ancient Eight.” When people come to these institutions, they expect to immerse themselves in history. They expect to see the ancient seal that the seven other Ivies have, but that Dartmouth now lacks. They expect quads that look exactly as they did over a century ago. By injecting modern architecture into the core of its historic campus, Dartmouth isn’t improving its image; it degrades it by breaking the historical immersion that strikes people with that sense of grandeur and “prestige.”
If Dartmouth wants to make a name for itself through innovative programs or policy, very well. But turning on its own historic appearance will leave Dartmouth falling behind its peers rather than getting ahead. Other Ivies learned this lesson decades ago with the death of the modernist movement. It’s time now that Dartmouth too pulls itself out of this old obsession with the new.
Opinion articles represent the views of their author(s), which are not necessarily those of The Dartmouth.
