An Onanistic Abomination

I am referring, of course, to architect Frank Gehry's latest building, the LUMA tower in Arles.

Arles is a Unesco world heritage site for its classic architecture, including a Roman Coliseum, a cathedral dating back to the 1200s, and a city center comprised mainly of 17th century townhouses.

This is hideous, even by the standards of Gehry's normal exercises in excess, but it is to be expected from a man who created a building, the Walt Disney Concert Hall in Los Angeles, that literally fried its neighbors.

The culture and aesthetics of high end architecture is truly broken:

Over its 3,000 years, the city of Arles, France, has seen a lot. The Provençal town, once home to the Celts and later the Greeks and Romans, has played host over the centuries to a varied cast of characters that includes Roman emperors and Pablo Picasso. But it is perhaps best known as a pilgrimage site for devotees of Vincent van Gogh, who spent one of his most prolific years in Arles shortly before his death. The city’s lengthy and varied history has also made it a draw for architecture buffs: Its 12th-century Romanesque cathedral and ancient Roman amphitheater helped earn Arles one of France’s earliest Unesco World Heritage designations in 1981.

Sometime in the 17th century, a series of bourgeois townhouses were constructed in the village center. Since then, very little in Arles has changed. The city looks much the same as it did when Van Gogh sat at a sidewalk table and sketched the street scene that would become his famed Café Terrace at Night, and visitors can wander down the Place du Forum to dine at the same café the artist painted in 1888. Until recently, it would have been possible to walk across town and replicate the experience with Van Gogh’s Starry Night Over the Rhône—to stand on the banks of the river and gaze out at the same vista that met the artist’s eye over 130 years ago. For the first time in many years, Arles’ skyline is changing, with the addition of an ambitious new cultural complex called LUMA Arles.

Standing 184 feet tall, LUMA Arles towers over the city—the next tallest building is the 12th-century Cathedral of St. Trophime at about 138 feet tall. It is the centerpiece of the LUMA Foundation’s 27-acre campus, which the arts philanthropic organization has situated in a former railyard turned park. It's also the culmination of over a decade of work spearheaded by LUMA founder and billionaire Maja Hoffmann (the foundation’s name is a portmanteau of the first part of her children’s names Lucas and Marina). The tower, designed by Canadian-American architect Frank Gehry, seems to climb upward, twisting and turning as it stretches toward the sky. The building’s 11,000 reflective stainless steel panels spectacularly transform the building over the course of a day: It blends into a bright blue sky at noontime, gilds itself in the late afternoon, and twinkles as the sun sets. The style is unmistakably Gehry, with the sweeping, brushstroke-like lines and playful design cues that have become a hallmark of the dean of contemporary architecture.

The building has its detractors—Gehry’s initial plans were rejected as “threats” to the city’s archaeological sites, and some Arlesians have complained that the imposition of the angular, metallic tower is an affront to the stucco-and-stone charm of the village below. In a report from Vanity Fair’s French edition, a local townsperson said, roughly translated, “Those who are annoyed by this arrogance dub it ‘the beer can.’” But according to the 92-year-old architect, the design is intended to “evoke the local”: Its rippling exterior draws on Van Gogh’s Starry Night, while the tower’s central atrium pays homage to Arles’ Roman amphitheater. Local officials hope that Arles will see a “Bilbao effect,” and be rejuvenated like that Spanish city was after the Gehry-designed Guggenheim Museum opened there in 1997.

There is good architecture out there, Louis Sullivan's incorporation of the steel structure into skyscrapers comes to mind, but has technology has loosened constraints on buildings, some in the profession have gone off the deep end.

If I am in Arles, I'll probably have lunch in the building, but only because it is the only place in the city where you cannot see this monstrosity.