I think it was a helpful security guard who, upon my first visit to the Chicago Cultural Center, suggested: Be sure to go upstairs and see the world’s largest Tiffany stained-glass dome.
World’s largest? Sold.
It took me many more visits to discover another spectacular stained-glass dome, even larger in size, tucked just beyond the Tiffany, about a one-minute walk down a side corridor.
That dome is sadly falling apart.
Pieces of glass are missing or have been improperly patched. It looks dirty.
It looks even more dilapidated when an expert directs your eyes to the oculus, the very tip-top of the dome, which was restored and cleaned in 2007, and then points out another patch at the base, which also has been cleaned.
The oculus is a bouquet of pastels. The rest of the Grand Army of the Republic dome is a sea of mustard and mud.
The decorative frame of the cleaned area at the base flickers as if it’s gold. The panel next to it looks dark and dusty like a window inside the Addams Family mansion.
Your jaw can’t help but drop when you notice the contrast.
“It’s like a Stradivarius (violin) that’s a little out of tune,” said Tim Samuelson, Chicago’s cultural historian. “Over the years people have done repairs to the dome where they were not careful about putting in the proper kind of glass, and your eye goes right to them.”
Chicago Cultural Affairs Commissioner Michelle Boone would like to have the dome and parts of the building repaired before hoards of eagle-eyed architects and critics arrive for the city’s first architectural biennial in October. The building is the biennial’s headquarters.
The only problem is that fixing the dome alone will require $4 million, which the city doesn’t have.
Now Boone did not call me to suggest I put out a call for donations. I called her after going with friends on a Chicago Architecture Foundation walking tour that included the building. Our docent was the one who pointed out the disrepair and the need for money to fix it.
And I’m a sucker for the underdog. It didn’t seem fair the Tiffany got a $2.2 million renovation in 2008 while the GAR dome, dedicated to Northern soldiers who fought in the Civil War, languished.
Boone agreed but her attention has been focused on fixing other parts of the building.
“We’ve made these kinds of small gestures of restoration to bring it back to its glory,” Boone said. “It was almost disrespectful the state the building had been in.”
Boone had the “hideous indoor-outdoor carpet” pulled up in both lobbies, exposing gorgeous tiles. She had wood floors installed in the Michigan Avenue art galleries and the windows untinted so passers-by could peer inside. Samuelson rooted the building’s original seal, an 1897 city seal, out of storage, and Boone had that installed. (It had been removed because it created a bump in the carpet.)
Yet the equally hideous tinting on the upper floors that gives the building the feel of a 1972 Chevy Impala remains. Sconces are missing in the large ground-floor reading area. Better signs that point Tiffany admirers to the GAR dome is needed, too, Boone said.
“If you take me into any space of this building, I can point something out to you,” she said. “It’s a long list. Just like living in any house. You’re never done with renovations. Once you’re finished with the kitchen, you can’t stand how the bathroom looks.”
About 807,000 people visit the building annually, according to Jamey Lundblad, the department’s spokesman.
But it really only takes one visitor with means. And I can think of two Chicagoans who have the means and the passion. One cares deeply about military history. The other promotes neoclassical architecture. I’m going to mail this column to Jennifer Pritzker, founder of the Pritzker Military Museum & Library, and investment adviser Richard Driehaus.
Twitter @chiconfidential
