By Harold Henderson
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Were you shocked by the survey that showed (among other things) that less than one-quarter of Americans polled could name both U.S. senators from their state, and four of ten can’t name the vice president? Don’t be. Ignorance is chronic and hasn’t toppled the republic yet. Tucked away in the Washington Post National Weekly’s report on the sensational study (February 5-11) was this deflating fact: “Surveys indicate that Americans know about as much about politics and government today as they did during the 1940s.”
“Does Chicago think of its own artists as being somehow separate from the rest of the art world?” New Art Examiner (January) asks Donald McFadyen, who replies, “As losers for even being here! It’s an inferiority complex, no doubt. I’ve had dealers in New York, I’ve lived in New York, I could go and live there again; I am here because of inertia, livability, call it what you will, it doesn’t matter.”
“Despite its practicality, the [1909] Chicago plan had one utopian feature,” writes Witold Rybczynski in his new book City Life: “[Daniel] Burnham and his colleagues, who scrupulously delineated existing streets, public parks, and even railroad rights-of-way, chose to ignore the tall buildings (many built by Burnham’s own firm) that were downtown Chicago’s most distinctive feature. This rejection of the skyscraper was certainly not an implied criticism of commercial development–the conservative Burnham was not antibusiness–nor was he suggesting that dozens of existing Chicago skyscrapers be demolished….It is possible that Burnham and [Edward] Bennett simply wanted to avoid the thorny issue of architectural controls altogether….It is also possible that the two men could not reconcile their urban theories–which assumed that public buildings would take precedence over commercial and residential structures–with the actual state of affairs in the American downtown.”
