I'd be curious if there is an element of this iconic building as it regards some of those guady proposals for whatever it is that will be built on the 911/WTC site. That is a long sentence.

While I understand Paul's seeming worship of traditional architecture (a strain of thinking shared usually by conservatives such as the folks at City Journal), perhaps it's time to remember is: Most of what we now call great traditional buildings broke with 'tradition' in some way or another, and redefined not only the meaning of a great building, but even a nation's architectural tradition. .

Consider the skyscraper. Sure, there were a few tall buildings - the Leaning Tower of Pisa for one -- few arrived on the scene until 19th century inventions such as the steel skeleton made it possible. By rising higher than traditional buildings and following a "form follows function" regime, skyscrapers, including those of Louis Sullivan (who did concede something to tradition) with his ornamentation) were a break with what was then traditional American architecture.

Some, especially those concerned that skyscrapers would crowd out sunlight, hated them. New York had by 1916 enacted laws requiring architects to "set back" every few floors or so to reduce what they considered to be a ravine effect.

Yet today, most people would consider the skyscrapers built from the late 1800s to the beginning of World War II, including Sullivan's own Carson-Pirie-Scott building, to be among the best of American -- and world -- architecture. Also on that list: Rockefeller Center, the Empire State building and the Chrysler in New York -- the latter was almost-universally loathed when it was first built.

Or think about the Eiffel Tower. When first built, it was proclaimed a ruin to Paris' skyline. Now it's become the face of Paris, an icon even.

What this is all about, really, is an opposition to anything that's new, innovative and violates a traditionalist's aesthetic sensibilities. Such buildings as those of Frank Gehry and even Daniel Libeskind force us to rethink what architecture is supposed to be and Paul, I bet you don't like being forced to rethink your aesthetic preferences one bit.

But that's fine. Why? Because luckily for the rest of us, the definition of what is "traditional" tends to change over time, thanks in part to the new and innovative and also to the fact that future generations, who have never seen the skyline before those buildings were erected.

That doesn't necessarily mean that the Bilbao Guggenheim will be considered a great building 60 years from now. Chances are that it will also be considered a monstrosity. But who knows?

They may have broken with tradition, but they did so in traditional ways: Consider the gargoyles on the Chrysler Building. The technological innovations (and, in Louis Sullivan's case, the happenstance) that allowed for the development of a "new" architecture did not--immediately--provoke architects to think of themselves as prophets of a new way of living, as opposed to the improved (but continuous) way of life represented by the ideal of "Progress." It took the Modernists (think of Le Corbusier) to transform architectural theory into a conscious expression of ideology.

When we think of architecture, however, should we think in terms of single buildings or the entire cityscape (or lived environment, depending on your preference) that such architecture yields? Not all buildings done in the International Style looked like the Seagram Building; instead, the generic office building these days is devoid of any yearning for grace, beauty or timelessness. The tragedy of Modernism, in fact, is that in giving up these 'traditional' aspirations, it removed itself from the enduring concerns of ordinary people. (Think of the Metacortex building in the first Matrix movie: It is instantly recognizable as a symbol both of contemporary life and of the utter alienation of labor.)

I know that the ur-libertarian novel preoccupies itself with the quest of architects to break down barriers. But those barriers have been broken down, and the advanced machining techniques and computer modelling that architects like Gehry and Koolhaas (the latter less an architect than a supervising director) render most of the remaining constraints of Sullivan-era architecture moot as well. But these architects are, all the same, less concerned with rendering their buildings useful (look at the "after-market" modifications that the Seattle Public Library has had to make) or a natural part of the existing cityscape (consider the "gherkin" in London, which is a blemish--but which would be okay if it were a bit farther from the City).

So it isn't my "aesthetic preferences" that I think are at issue. It is, firstly, the forcing of the preferences on others (both the inhabitants of the city and the users of the building) even when they are counterproductive or wasteful and, secondly, the lack of concern for the context of these buildings. A building that works in New York may not work in Dublin; a Dublin building would be out of place in Athens; an Athenian building in Tokyo, and so forth. If, however, the entire neighborhood is redeveloped such that the building does not stick out, then I am much happier with it.

Uber-libertarian? Now Paul, you should know better than throw terms around without actually knowing the position of the person you're writing about.

You are right: Most of the great, innovative buildings did retain some traditional touches. Remember Paul, that I did mention that Louis Sullivan maintained those friezes and other traditional touches. However, you keep forgetting that these were major innovations -- and in many ways, controversial -- that changed how we thought of architecture.

If you were, say, a 40 year old in 1895, the idea of a 20-story building would have been laughable when you were coming of age 20 years earlier. Meanwhile the concept of a house being anchored directly over a waterfall -- which came decades later with Wright's Falling Water -- would have been an absolute fairy tale. And chances are, because you never grew up with such buildings, it would have struck you as both a wonder and fearful, the latter being that suddenly there would no longer be sunlight. Yet other architectural innovations, by now standard part of tradition, are ones you could easily accept because you grew up with them.

What I'm saying Paul is that your dislike of the architecture, like most dislikes, are more personal than intellectual; you just then built intellectual justifications around what disturbs you visually. That's fine; after all, the world is big enough for traditionalists of a time and those of us who don't see change as an absolute assault on the senses and actually like them and the rest of us, such as myself, who take pieces of the new and mash them up D.J. Dangermouse-style to come up with something to fit our lives.

However, a visceral disli

As for buildings being drab? I hate to break it to you Paul, but there have always been plenty of drab buildings. Consider London circa 1890 where beyond the Parliament buildings, most people lived in hovels that were not only drab, but would be today condemned by public health authorities. The same for Paris even after Haussman laid out the grand city we know today. Or even New York circa 1935, when an array of great buildings (Empire State, Rockefeller Center, the Daily News building among them) rose up even as much of the outer boroughs and even Manhattan were littered with tenaments, three-story walkups, offices over markets and the like. None of those buildings were beauty.

Let's go back further into history: Rome when the Coliseum was being erected, was also littered with buildings that were hardly fit for even 19th century living. At the same time, great architecture also rose alongside the mass. Or look at Los Angeles of 20 years ago: Great buildings such as the Gas Company and Library towers rising in the Bunker Hill section of town; amazing art-deco structures such as the former May Co. department store that now houses LACMA, the modern art museum and the old Bullocks Wilshire; and then the rest, 'dingbat' apartment buildings, one-story wood-and-cement shacks and anonymous five-story offices.

The reality, dear Paul, is that there are very few great buildings out there. If there were plenty of them, we wouldn't marvel at their existence.

In fact, let's take it further and deal with your argument that somehow architecture is getting away from the people. Are you kidding me? Have you actually looked around Indianapolis or in your case, Ireland lately. Architecture -- the daily architecture practiced in terms of the tract home or the basic office building -- actually hasn't moved very far away from the concerns of the average person at all.

Consider that today, your average apartment consists not of a mere two bedrooms and one bath, but also walk-in closets, a utility closet with a washer-dryer installation and in close proximity to a swimming pool. Why is it there? Because the average architect -- not the Gehry's or the Koonhauses -- cater to the market. And markets, let's remember,consist of people, who may or may not always be thinking of aesthetics when they're buying a home, who may or may not be looking at architecture as something edifying at all. They want a place to live or need a place to work -- with all the accoutrements they want or can afford -- and the market provides that quite nicely.

The average architect is neither a Modernist nor a traditionalist, but like the rest of us, somewhere in-between. The great architects -- the Sullivans, Wrights, Wrens and even Gehry (and yes, I think Gehry is a great architect, not that he's exactly my taste, but then, I think Wren's St. Paul's a rather stuffy-looking) -- have never necessarily been preoccupied with the masses. For one, they work for patrons who are looking for a grand statment. They're also looking at a higher mission, such as it is: To be trailblazers and path-breakers or even as in the case of Wright, bring man in harmony with nature.

We'll have to agree to disagree on this one, Paul, but we're not going to decide which of us is right anyway. That's for future generations. And we're not it.

As for the Seattle public libraries of the world? When was the last time anyone spent much time in those buildings anyway. The better reflection of the people's taste can be found at Borders -- plain, utilitarian, workable -- or Barnes & Noble -- a mix of traditional country den elements with a little dash of the new. Even the poor will go to Barnes & Noble before heading to the public library.

RiShawn--At this point, you're not arguing against me, but against somebody who might say things somewhat like what I've said.

The reality, dear Paul, is that there are very few great buildings out there. If there were plenty of them, we wouldn't marvel at their existence.

But isn't this exactly my point? Isn't this precisely why I'm concerned about the adulation that the iconic building receives? And the fact is that the drive to build the next Great Building is leading toward structures like the Seattle Public Library instead of the average Barnes and Noble.

You write that the average architect is concerned with the needs of the people, and point to residential architecture and chain-store designs as evidence; I will agree that those structures have the benefit of utility (if they are not, exactly, marvels of design as such)--but there again we are not dealing with iconic buildings or starchitects, nor do the designers of these buildings try to claim they're making a statement about life and democracy by putting these buildings up.

As for the patrons of the "great architects": Both in my original post and in the linked debate the point of who, exactly, these patrons are--and why they choose the designs they choose--comes up. In the case of the CCTV Building (or even the WTC designs, both original and rebuilding), they happen to be people spending other people's money, and to bad effect (although I want to see exactly where the CCTV Building will be).

Finally: As to the overall effect of modern architecture. I don't like nearly any new building in Beijing, and I think that Tokyo may in fact be one of the uglier cities (in its wealth class) on earth (if you took all the people out, that is). However, I can't think of any building built in Shanghai in the past ten years that I actually dislike, and I am a big fan of several of the more dazzling recent skyscrapers. So don't suppose that I dislike anything novel.

I don't mind it when people try to criticize my "aesthetic preferences," but I wish that they would avoid guessing at what those preferences are.

"RiShawn--At this point, you're not arguing against me, but against somebody who might say things somewhat like what I've said."

If you think so. Last I checked, I was arguing with you. And perhaps you don't want to deal with those arguments. But you do have a right to choose to think otherwise.

I would also note, for your own future arguments, that you should probably not start out your counter with such a response. As someone who argues with people all the time, I'm used to more insulting statements. But it just makes your argument seem less serious.

"I don't mind it when people try to criticize my "aesthetic preferences," but I wish that they would avoid guessing at what those preferences are."

Then do a better job of spelling them out. After all, you're arguing about architecture, specifically how some forms of iconic architecture are rather ugly, yet you don't propose an alternative vision. Which means one has to take a guess at what you would rather see.

Don't just simply criticize, set up a counterargument or in the case of architecture, an alternative vision. But don't expect to make an argument and then not expect those making a counterargument to make some valid assumptions. And assumptions about your aesthetic tastes, in this argument, are valid.

My apologies if you feel insulted. But again, we are in the marketplace -- or the agora -- of ideas, so it isn't personal.

"In the case of the CCTV Building (or even the WTC designs, both original and rebuilding), they happen to be people spending other people's money, and to bad effect (although I want to see exactly where the CCTV Building will be)."

And if those folks -- save for the government agencies handling the WTC reconstruction -- figure the designs are fine, then so be it. We can think that the designs or the final product is horrible. That's our right. We can even think an architect is out of his mind. But they who spend the money make the decisions. And if they like it, then fine.

You can argue that the skyline of a city is some collective that belongs to all. But that's assuming that a skyline is some static thing. That's not so. They're dynamic and they change. The skyline of New York is quite different than it was either 100 years ago or even five years ago. And who knows if the buildings themselves will be around 100 years from now? The World Trade Center towers, for example, stood for just about 30.

Now with the WTC reconstruction, it's actually mostly taxpayers money, which from where I sit, is problematic. Personally, I'd rather see the Port Authority just sell off the land -- save for a small parcel for a World Trade Center massacre memorial -- and let the new landowners do as they will.

"You write that the average architect is concerned with the needs of the people, and point to residential architecture and chain-store designs as evidence; I will agree that those structures have the benefit of utility (if they are not, exactly, marvels of design as such)--but there again we are not dealing with iconic buildings or starchitects, nor do the designers of these buildings try to claim they're making a statement about life and democracy by putting these buildings up."

I would suggest reading some Camille Paglia, particularly "Vamps & Tramps" to give you some perspective on architects and other artists. As she once mentioned, you can't really trust anything they say in public because they're all essentially actors who take on a role depending on the moment. Now that doesn't mean starchitects, as you would call them, aren't actually trying to break with tradition in some way or another. Just that Koollhaas is also, as an artist, trying to be provocative.

What I'm saying is that unlike historians, economists and law professors, you can't take everything the aesthetic classes (artists, architects and the rest) say without some grain of salt.

Now, back to the barbecue.