
I mentioned previously that Modern Art Notes has been blogging heavily about the new Bloch Building and how it compares to the original 1933 Nelson-Atkins Building. While he does rave about the new building, he has taken a different approach than any of the other reviews. His premise is that the Bloch Building challenges the 1933 building at every step along the way (and wins, from his point of view).
I appreciate MAN's obvious delight in the new building but there are many people who respect and flat out love the original building (myself included) just as much as they celebrate the new Bloch Building. I can see how some would see the exterior of the 1933 building as cold and traditional but there are gorgeous details at every turn. The craftmanship that went into the original building is amazing from the carved bronze doors depicting scenes from Longellow's Song of Hiawatha to the inscriptions that run along the building's cornice to the hand-carved stone capitals in Kirkwood Hall.
There are also incredible spaces inside the 1933 building that bring just as much joy and wonder as does the new Bloch Building. If you haven't stood in the middle of Kirkwood Hall and looked from east to west, you really should. On the very western edge of the building is a stained-glass window from the 16th century installed in the Cloister (Gallery P7), while on the very eastern edge (just above the entrance into the Bloch Building) you can see a beautiful painting by Vigee Le Brun.
Today, I found a very thoughtful response that made some nice points about how the new building is meant to complement the original one. He also notes that the original building was constructed at a very different time but that doesn't mean it wasn't meant to inspire awe or that it was staid and conventional.
He concludes that the Bloch Building defers and compliments the Nelson-Atkins Building, even at night. I agree. Even though most people think the exterior of the Bloch Building is at its strongest at night when it is lit, I think that is when it is most referential. Its glow feels more like a celebration of the 1933 building than an attempt to outshine it.