The Best-Laid Plans: Indian Museum Dispute a Tragic Waste
By Benjamin Forgey
Washington Post Staff Writer
Saturday, April 4, 1998; Page C01

In Douglas Cardinal's L'Enfant Plaza studio, the Canadian architect and his
colleagues labor over computers to complete his striking design of the
National Museum of the American Indian.

Scarcely a quarter-mile away, in the Smithsonian Institution Castle, officials
proceed with plans to build Cardinal's design without his participation.

It is a curious, unhappy state of affairs that could cost us a building of
aesthetic integrity and exceptional distinction on the Mall.

The institution, you see, fired Cardinal, along with GBQC of Philadelphia, his
collaborating American firm, without public announcement in late January, for
failing to deliver design documents on time and other consequential faults.

Cardinal, for his part, had pushed things to the brink by refusing to hand
over many documents.  He says the contract did not compensate him fairly for
the vast amount of work his firm had to do to accommodate all the changes in
the design requested by the Smithsonian and others.  Because of the shortfall,
he says, his architectural firm is going broke.

Such a summary cannot pretend to do justice to the complexity of the legal,
ethical and personality issues involved.  By now, the situation has descended,
in the predictable rhythm of such disputes, to bitter we-said/they-said
accusations.  It is no longer client talking to architect.  It is lawyers
talking to lawyers.  This definitely has the feel of something that will end
up in court.

Before that happens, however, it must be stressed that the consequences are
extremely bad, and that a remedy is possible, if difficult.  What makes this
architectural divorce particularly hard to swallow -- on both practical and
aesthetic grounds -- is the fact that, with financing from a passionate
believer in the project, Cardinal and staff have continued to work on the
design.

A statement released by the Smithsonian to explain the termination of the
design contract notes that the design team "failed repeatedly to meet
contractual performance requirements" and presented "no possibility of meeting
those requirements in the future."

It is the second part of this equation that offers a window of hope.  The work
done by Cardinal and colleagues since the termination does exist.  The job,
Cardinal says, is almost done: A set of sophisticated construction documents
is by now stored in his firm's computers.  I spent several hours with Cardinal
and his computer wizards this week as they demonstrated the interlocking
nature of the design -- a complex layering plotted in great detail, from major
interior and exterior elevations down to room furnishings and window
fasteners.

It would be folly to throw these documents -- this work of architectural art
-- into the courts, so that a judge would determine what legally belongs to
whom: The Smithsonian owns the design for this wall, but not that balcony?

The reasons we should all be interested in avoiding such an outcome are
straightforward.  This is a building of high public purpose for a key site on
the nation's most important symbolic vista.  It is a museum designed to
symbolize the healing of rifts between two great cultures of the North and
South American continents.  And it is to be placed on the Mall's last
buildable site, within clear view of the Capitol, just across Fourth Street SW
from the Air and Space Museum.

Furthermore, though Cardinal's design may not be without fault, it is
architecture of high ambition and extraordinary promise.  In both planning and
designing the museum, there were extensive consultations with tribal leaders
across the land.  Many of the concepts developed in these sessions are
embodied in the building -- it opens to the east, it suggests the natural
landscape, it relates directly to heaven and earth, it contains significant
ceremonial spaces.

These collaborative efforts were necessary and praiseworthy.  They speak to
widespread emphasis in Indian cultures on building consensus as part of the
decision-making process.  Yet it must be remembered that Cardinal's particular
artistic vision brings these ideas alive, giving the design its unique formal
and emotional qualities.  This is why it is so crucial that he be involved in
the follow-through.

There is a pertinent example close at hand -- directly across the Mall stands
I.M. Pei's National Gallery of Art East Building.  Would this unusual building
be as excellent as it is, inside and outside, if the Gallery had dismissed Pei
and his team before ground was even broken?  The only answer is no.  Many key
aesthetic decisions on the East Building were made after construction began;
this is the way of many significant buildings designed by architects with
strong personal visions.

Thus, the most troubling parts of the Smithsonian statement are not the
listings of the design team's contractual failures -- these issues, if
necessary, can be settled in court.  The real problem arises from the
Smithsonian's insistence that "the creative phase of the design process for
the Mall building is finished."  All that remains, the statement went on to
say, is the "completion of technical construction and engineering drawings."

Such might be the case if the design in question were for a warehouse, or an
office building, or a public library of no particular ambition.  But
Cardinal's design aspires to be a work of art, and as the artist, he put his
heart and soul into it.  What will be lost if another architect takes over at
this stage are the qualities that help to give a building its soul -- the
subtle adjustments of shape and surface and proportion that can transform the
everyday into architectural magic.

This is especially true because, like Pei's building, Cardinal's design is
rooted in a complicated, unconventional geometry.  Pei's design relies
famously on triangles.  Cardinal's is based on circles.

Most obviously, the museum's major gathering spaces, such as the towering
Potomac Room with large openings facing the Capitol, are circular.  But the
influence of the geometry is in reality much more pervasive and complex.  Each
of the multiple curves that distinguish the principal interior spaces as well
as all of the exterior facades is a part of a circle.  These governing circles
will be invisible once the building is built -- the stone walls will undulate
like aging rock formations -- but all the circles are plotted on Cardinal's
computers with great accuracy.

This combination of mathematical precision and nature-inspired irregularity of
form is characteristic of Cardinal's career.  Now 63, he has been designing
buildings in an individualistic, organic style for more than three decades.
Dramatic, curved shapes are part of his personal vocabulary.  In their
reflection of natural forms, they are typical of Canadian culture.  They also
are reflective of his own Indian ancestry -- his father was part Blackfoot,
his mother part Metis -- and of his long, proud insistence that Indian culture
can be an integral part of contemporary society.

The Cardinal firm's expertise in computers, dating back more than two decades,
came about in part because of his awareness that, to escape stereotyping and
get jobs -- Cardinal once was known as the "hippie Indian architect" -- he had
to be extra-competent in technical spheres.  It also evolved from a certain
pragmatism about his organic buildings -- to get them built on time and on
budget requires extreme measures of control.  If the Smithsonian does indeed
persist in its intention to get those mere "technical" drawings done by a firm
with no experience in Cardinal's complex geometries, common sense says it will
take a lot more time and cost a lot more money.

Even more important, it is likely that the building would lose much of its
special quality.  The design for the Museum of the American Indian, so far, is
a successful attempt to mediate between differing cultures, and between the
strict, axial geometries of the Mall and a more organic set of architectural
forms.  Cardinal's vision, as well as his long practice, makes it so.

"I have had this faith all along," the architect says, "that people will do
things the right way, that people will do things with honor, if you just
continually place emphasis on what is best for the building."  Let us hope
that he is right.

© Copyright 1998 The Washington Post Company