Last weekend’s trip to New York was a double header. A colleague had recommended paying a visit to the Morgan Library (as in JP Morgan, the financial behemoth) which had recently undergone a restoration to its 1906 McKim Library. On top of that, I’d been also meaning to check out the renovation and addition by Renzo Piano done in 2006 which linked the three existing buildings on site by way of glass pavilions.

Second on the agenda was to drop by Alice Tully Hall on the upper east side, a chamber music venue designed by Diller Scofidio + Renfro in 2009. I’d zoomed by in a cab a few weeks before on my way back from a site survey but we had no time to stop. You can’t miss or ignore the building though. It looks like something plucked from a fifth year design studio student’s sketchbook. As in, it’s so extraordinary and nonconformist in shape that it reminds me of the good old studio days; before any suggestion of skewed exterior glass walls and 50 foot cantilevers were instantly laughed down by your structural engineers. A design student’s wet dream!

First stop, the Morgan Library and Museum on 37th and Madison Ave. Seriously, if I hadn’t google mapped it, I would have missed it completely. Despite the $xx million spent, the entrance was so subdued that I could have walked past it 5 times and missed it. One is reminded of the countless times your one’s mom has exhorted “don’t judge a book by it’s cover” during one’s formative years (thanks mom!). Because once you passed through the sober steel and glass entrance, you experience lesson #42 in the architect-y handbook: Compression and Release.

A technique used by Frank Lloyd Wright using space volume relationships to move people from small confined spaces into large open spaces thus creating a a sense of freedom and arrival. …Kinda like if you were Indiana Jones, escaping machete wielding cave denizens through a dark narrow tunnel and you stumble on an enormous sun drenched chamber filled with gold booty. Ha! Architecture Theory 101 BOOO-YAH!!

It was kind of like that The enormous glass pavilion that is the heart of the museum is nothing short of breathtaking. A confection of glass, delicate white steel frames, platforms that floated above the main floor, a glass elevator straight out of Wonka’s Chocolate Factory..absolutely dazzling. It sounds crazy to say but I assure you it was subdued in an elegance that I imagine only Renzo Piano could have dreamed up. Quiet, peaceful, this wasn’t a design that screamed to be noticed, it knew it was beautiful and it just let you soak it in in your own time.

As an architect, I think one of the toughest design challenges is to build an addition onto an existing building. You have to pay more attention to the historic connotations and design language than you would a free-standing fresh new building. Yet, the new pavilion so expertly weaved the three distinct stone buildings together without taking any shortcuts. The beautiful exterior stone of the original 1906 library and the 1928 Annex are proudly embraced into the pavilion, connections are so transparent it puts politics to shame.

There is a rhythm within the steel frame system and the curtainwall. Lines are not just lines, they are reveals or extrusions or joints and they all play so harmoniously amongst each other that you’re compelled to listen. The visitor on his or her part I’d say feels like part of the space, the scale allows for that. The thoughtful Mr. Piano built his addition 50 feet underground so that it would not overwhelm the existing buildings.

The McKim Library is the opposite of restrained elegance. This was just in-your-face opulence. My kind of thing! Designed in 1906 by Charles McKim to house Mr. Morgan’s private collection, it takes its lead from the European classical designs. Every square inch either had carvings or were gilded in tile or covered in velvet. While the burgundy study is rich and mysterious, the 3-story library radiates a golden hue that’s perfect for this rare collection of 1st editions. Lush! I took some time to sketch a few details of the intricate railings here.

On to Alice Tully Hall. Like I said, an architecture student’s wet dream.  As Broadway slices through the site, so the building also is sliced and carved. and sliced and carved it is! Carved out of the original 60′s era travertine chunk of building, DS+R ‘s new facade and lobby bleeds into the street and pulls you in. Like the Julliard school that it houses, the elements of the building seem so fluid and constantly in motion. But sometimes too much motion is not good, you begin to feel ill.

I only managed to get into the public space of the main renovation and missed experiencing a performance there so I’ll only comment on the spaces I saw. As much as I wanted to love the building, I struggle to admit that… I.. found it… awful. There, I said it. Maybe I needed to be in a different frame of mind to appreciate it but it felt like a giant hot mess. I had no idea which direction I was supposed to look at and when I did focus on anything, it seemed so haphazard and hardly graceful in the way it came together ..which is ironic since it’s home to a performance venue.

With curves that met sharp angles, a jumble of varied materials, planes that jut at random… I sat there for half an hour willing myself to fall in love. It’s Diller Scofidio for gods sake!! What’s wrong with me?!?! But after 30 minutes I had to concede defeat. “It’s not me, it’s you.”

Heartbroken I drift aimlessly toward the plaza. Behold! A sight for sore eyes. DS+R’s smaller project for the Lincoln Center is a gem. A 2-story restaurant with a swooping green roof, I’m in love again! Or maybe it’s just a rebound. I’m going to have to make another trip up here and I think we’ll give it a second shot.