The Great Hall Is an Irreplaceable Architectural Masterpiece

I am writing to you with a very urgent request, one which is very near and dear to my heart as an architectural historian and as a lover of beautiful things--the preservation of the Great Hall of the Freshman Union. I am very upset by the proposed destruction of this splendid space and would like to present for your consideration a rationale for why it is essential to preserve and restore the Hall to its original splendor.

* The Great Hall is one of the finest creations of the architectural firm of McKim, Mead & White and, as such, enjoys a privileged position in their renowned architectural monograph. It is a monument to the splendor of the American Gilded Age and is an irreplaceable example of an historic episode in art and architectural taste. It can no more be created today than one could create a Botticelli tondo or a Cellini bronze: its makers have died and, with them, a precious moment in history. It is the high calling of great institutions--universities, cathedrals and museums--to preserve, protect and defend such architectural legacies--these exemplars of human genius--from the ravages and vagaries of man and time.

* Much of the glory of McKim, Mead & White has been lost to the wrecking ball and we cannot afford to let additional treasures be destroyed. The Great Hall is one of the last of its kind and certainly the last accessible to the general public: while the Harvard and University clubs of Boston and New York both have similar halls by McKim, Mead & White, neither are open for the edification of the public. To destroy this structure would be to sever Americans from their own history, one of the most pernicious and evil of undertakings.

* Harvard's record of architectural trusteeship is scandalous: the Carey Cage and the Old Fogg, to name the most distinguished examples, have been thoughtlessly destroyed in the wake of shortsighted optimism. Seize this opportunity to preserve a jewel of architecture and to close a sad chapter in Harvard's history.

* As should be obvious, it would be virtually impossible to copy the hand-worked craftsmanship of the Great Hall today: and, even if one could, it would be but a copy of the greater original. Apart from requiring millions of dollars for quarter-sawn white American oak, plaster strap-work, limestone and bronze, it is not possible to replicate the character of such period-work today--expert craftsmen are hard to find at best, non-existent at worst and they are bound and informed by the characteristics of their own age, not of ages previous.

* The Great Hall is a memorial and as such its mutilation is not only barbaric, it is sacrilege: it is analogous to exhuming the dead in Arlington National Cemetery to make way for an office complex--which, incidentally, is what the Center for Humanities would be. It is unthinkable that office-space for faculty and bureaucrats should take precedence over the memory of Harvard men who, at the call of their country, spilled their blood and selflessly laid down their lives. Harvard, as a great institution, is entrusted (key word "trust") with the preservation of such gifts and memorials. It is beneath the dignity of our University to willingly participate in such a breach of sacred trust.

* If a memorial to the Spanish-American War can be so cavalierly cast aside because of ephemeral needs and self-interests, I can assure you that the recent restoration of memorial Hall will be re-evaluated in the most uncharitable light: it will be seen as suspect, of Harvard not interested in the sacred memory of her selfless deceased but simply in her own selfish desires, in square-footage and "usable" space and not in cherished alumni, noble goals, beauty or even architectural preservation.

In closing, I would appeal to the inscription upon the mantle of the fireplace in the Great Hall, for I believe it aptly betrays the opportunistic and unethical role of the University in this ill-conceived proposal and it exposes Harvard's violation of her sacred trusteeship. It unmasks Harvard as the ugly and loveless, sang froid entity into which it sadly has metamorphosed. It is a stern warning against such unthinkable shortsightedness:

A GOOD NAME IS RATHER TO

BE CHOSEN

THAN GREAT RICHES

AND LOVING FAVOUR

RATHER THAN SILVER AND

GOLD. --Christopher D. H. Row '94   Resident Tutor in Fine Arts and   Music, Kirkland House