Manzanita Hall. A name whispered with reverence by generations of ASU students. It stands as a testament to a university’s ambition and a city’s growth. Let’s journey back to 1967, a time when Tempe’s skyline was a little less crowded, and Manzanita Hall, at 215,000 square feet and with its 1,000 beds, was the tallest building in town, even overshadowing many in Phoenix. Imagine workers carefully placing the last hexagonal “Superman” window into the newly constructed hall, an iconic feature of a truly iconic structure. Manzanita Hall wasn’t just a dorm; it was a symbol of ASU’s own reinvention, a concrete and glass declaration of its newfound university status. Designed by the renowned architectural firm Cartmell and Rossman, Manzanita Hall was a bold experiment in modernist architecture. The diagonal precast concrete beams, a distinctive feature, weren’t just aesthetic; they played a crucial role in the building’s strength and stability. Architect Wendell Rossman, also known for designing the Tacoma Dome and the Walkup Skydome, envisioned the structure as a high-rise sculpture, playing with light and shadow, angle and curve. The building’s unique curved shape also gave it surprising seismic stability. Rossman himself once stated that in the event of an earthquake, he would feel safest inside Manzanita Hall. The design was revolutionary, incorporating post-tension slabs, a cutting-edge technique at the time. This made the building incredibly robust, so much so that engineers have likened its construction to that of a tank. But Manzanita Hall is more than just steel and concrete. It’s about the memories made within its walls. It’s about Rene Frost, class of ’70, and her end room with the coveted private bathroom. It’s about the mischievous fraternity boys setting off the fire alarm, conveniently positioned outside to watch the pajama-clad residents evacuate. It’s about Mark Yurik, class of ’83, who cherishes the friendships forged during his senior year at Manzanita. Time took its toll on the grand old hall. Plumbing and electrical systems faltered, and the elevators became notoriously unreliable. Yet, the university remained committed to preserving this iconic structure. A complete gutting of the interior was undertaken, removing everything from asbestos to the Superman windows, though rumor has it a few might still be circulating on eBay. The renovation was not without its challenges. The university had to convince American Campus Communities, a developer specializing in new construction, of the value of preserving this aging giant. In the end, Manzanita Hall was reborn, a testament to its enduring legacy. The number of beds was reduced to create more communal spaces, study areas, and kitchenettes. Light floods the interior, breathing new life into the once dimly lit hallways. The original terrazzo floors remain, a subtle nod to the past, now complemented by custom walnut wall features, creating a space that is both modern and respectful of its history. So, as you stand before Manzanita Hall, remember that you are not just looking at a building, but at a living testament to ASU’s past, present, and future. A place of memories, friendships, and a few mischievous fire alarms.
Центральный дом работников искусств
Step through the grand wooden doors of the Central House of the Workers of Art, and you’ll be transported to