Overdue Notice: Koolhas' Seattle Public Library

I grew up in South Pasadena (back when the only things we had "online" access to were fish or kites) in a community where everyone used the local library. The city valued the library so dearly that, in the '50s, it thwarted freeway construction that would have demolished the institution. It was a legendary fight against the forces of freeway "modernity" that continue today in Southern California. Heroic stories about libraries are not common, so, when they surface, we should acknowledge them.

I'm writing this from the 10th floor of the Seattle Public Library. (Click here to see what the interior space around me looks like.) My workstation is complemented by a purple Frame Seattle Chair, designed by Quinze & Milan, on which I plopped myself after a quick tour of the various seating areas. I entered the building from the street and was neither subjected to a metal detector nor questioned about my identity. I took escalators up through the building looking for the best place to work and ended up on the 10th floor. I got connected to the Internet with a few keystrokes, for free – an improbable experience in most public spaces and most five-star hotels as well. The cathedral-like space and natural lighting is extraordinary, and there are other amenities: multiple electrical outlets where I can charge my PC, camera batteries and cell phone. I've been working here uninterrupted for three hours, taking periodic breaks to stroll through the building, take photos, attend a noon "brown bag storytelling" session and have an espresso. The SPL breaks a lot of rules and stereotypes about what a library should be. You can bring a coffee to your desk, use your cell phone discreetly and you will not be hassled if you look a little downtrodden or are carrying a backpack.

This structure has received more critical attention than any new building I can recall in recent times, other than Frank Gehry's Bilbao, and deservedly so. Metropolis devoted an entire issue to the SPL. Google the library and you will find numerous links to professional photos of the interiors and exterior, reviews by professionals, lists of services, etc. What impressed me most about the Rem Koolhaas and LMN Architects' design is the very public nature of it as a community center and the way in which this environment redefines what a library can be. One could argue that libraries are superfluous in this Internet age until you experience this place and see how it functions in the community.

I took a day trip through Seattle to visit this space. Somehow it seemed inconsistent to take a $35 cab from the airport to a free public building, so I decided to take public transportation instead and spend the day seeing as much public design as possible while spending as little money as possible. I followed the helpful airport signage to public transportation and found Ken's luggage storage, where I parked my bags and unloaded all but my camera, computer and a cap. This cost $8. At a helpful tourist desk I learned that while there is no subway, there is the #194 bus that would take me right to the library for $1.25. I was encouraged to see the library figured prominently on the free tourist guide map. (It is now the third biggest tourist draw of the city after the Space Needle and Pike's Place Market.)

The bus trip was a piece of public education as well. Arriving in Seattle from Vancouver, I did not have correct change in US$ and was initially denied access. When I asked the driver for quarters, he lashed out at me, "I don't give change, and no one carries change anymore." I explained that this was precisely why I did not have the quarters he wanted. A student gave me $1.25 unsolicited, in one of the most generous gestures I have received. I offered her Canadian dollars and discounts on DWR furniture, but she would take none of it.

Here are photos taken at the library. They do not do justice to the place as a building nor as a community center. There are 148 PC terminals, and all were in full use. Any local resident can use them for an hour a day, and there are 15-minute PC zones if you need a quick fix. The fourth floor is a meeting area, again accessible to the whole public, with halls painted wild red to create a vibrant link between rooms and encourage interaction. (Bold color is also used on elevators and escalators to draw your eye to ways you can move throughout the building.) There is a café, a store and an auditorium that holds events. There are video artworks on display, so the place is also a gallery of sorts. Many rules of traditional libraries are broken, but because the design of the place utilized public input, it actually works (i.e., this is not an architect's vanity statement). The use of bold color and pattern helps to balance the austere nature of the glass and steel. The poor signage is offset by the extraordinary service of the staff, who exude an obvious civic pride. The natural light is extraordinary. I could go on. The point is that you need to go there and use it to appreciate it. It's like visiting a good cathedral, a space that asks you to reconsider the world and your place in it.

It was hard to tear myself away, alternating between work, taking photos and emailing JPEGs to colleagues, enjoying the place, chatting with staff. My attempts to use public transportation and be frugal were scuttled when I stopped by Peter Miller's superb architectural bookstore on my way out of town. I spent more money there in 15 minutes than I had all day, which is easy to do in this great bookstore, where the browsing is such that you can lose sense of time, which happened to me. I missed my bus and had to jump in a taxi to get back to the airport in time for my flight. We are lucky that books can also be found for free, and that Seattle has elevated the notion of what a modern library can be.

And we are lucky that in this case, unlike that of South Pasadena, the transportation planners brought public access to the building, and didn't attempt to bring it through the building.

Best,