Preview layout Take a peek inside. It’s pretty in here!
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chapter four
Building Chicago LEE BEY Editor’s Note: Mayor Richard J. Daley was famously known as “Daley the Builder.” He built our expressways, the University of Illinois at Chicago, the first McCormick Place. He oversaw a massive building boom — and massive buildings like the Sears Tower and John Hancock, bookends that still define Chicago’s skyline to the world. His son’s list of signature projects is shorter, but still includes the marvelous, such as the Museum Campus and Millennium Park, the latter of which is increasingly becoming a symbol of Chicago around the globe. In 1998, less than 10 years into Richard M. Daley’s reign, Sun-Times Architecture Critic Lee Bey christened him “Daley the Beautifier,” noting how the mayor was making a mark by cleaning up Chicago through f lourishes of green, a love of good architecture and thoughtful urban planning. The jet touches down at O’Hare. Mayor Daley, returning from across the waters, disembarks. Upon his arrival - or soon after - journalists await with questions. What did you do? What did you see? Most mayors would be tempted to falsely don a diplomat’s robes and speak endlessly - needlessly - about foreign affairs. Daley
talks about the architecture and urban planning he saw. “Oh, definitely,” Daley said. “I went to Milan and Paris and Hamburg and London and Dublin. Mexico City. And when I go to cities, I look at things. I go, `Geez, look at this wonderful bridge, look at this lighting, look at this cornerstone, look at this wonderful park.’ And I come back with pictures; I come back with designs.” Meet “Daley the Beautifier.” With nearly a decade in office, Daley has cultivated a skill for planning and prettifying the city. In his first one-on-one interview on the subject, Daley discussed with the Chicago Sun-Times his vision for the city. He talked about what he liked, didn’t like and planned to change around town. He has surrounded himself with planners and architects in key administration positions. But the vision they carry out - from the wrought iron fencing and better-looking public buildings to recently announced plans to put cafes along the Chicago River - is Daley’s. “I think planning is exciting,” Daley said. “It’s not just `(Do) a job, then I’m gone,’ but that there is really a passion for what you
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Mayor Richard M. Daley stands with the Chicago skyline at his back. The architectural achievements under the Daleys became a calling card to the world.
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Mayor Richard J. Daley tours McCormick Place during ceremonies to mark the near completion of the massive convention center in 1970. The new building replaced a previous center destroyed by fire.
have done. And you’re really proud that you could put your name on it and say, `My name is attached to that project, and I’m proud of it.’ That’s what Chicago is all about.” The first Mayor Daley, Richard J., drew snickers decades ago when he dreamed of people catching fish in the Chicago River and using the waterway for recreation. With good reason. The river was foul. Dirty. Even most of the buildings along the river turn their backs to it. But the old man was on to something. His son is beginning a push to put cafes along the river downtown. He wants Wacker Drive redesigned so it “attaches” better to the river - especially the inhumanly bleak portion east of Michigan Avenue. “I call that the Dan Ryan extension!” he said of the barren section of East Wacker Drive. “There’s no attachment to the river or to the walkway or to the street or to the buildings. I don’t know who did that. Some engineer did that. It’s terrible.” The riverwalk cafes will begin this summer, he said. “People can have a cup of coffee, have lunch or dinner or whatever it is - and feel comfortable along the beautiful river.” And about the edible fish? “We had a fishing tournament two or three years ago named 40
after my father” - he laughs here - “in the Chicago River.” Daley is aggressive - almost obsessive - about creating green space in new developments. He is taking a hard line against River East, a massive proposed development west of Navy Pier. Developer Daniel McLean plans to build a $750 million, 6 million-square-foot development, but Daley thinks it is too dense. McLean eliminated a 17-story tower from the plan last fall and has put in more park land. But Daley wants fewer buildings and more green space. “I’ve always felt that I don’t want to be in Manhattan,” he said. “If you just make it Manhattan and Hong Kong - they’re wonderful cities and beautiful cities - but you want to keep your own character. You want a feeling that this is the Midwest and Chicago. It’s just not building after building, and in 20 years someone will say, `Gee, why didn’t they ever think of a park?’ Or, `Why didn’t they ever think of a beautiful fountain?’ Or, `Why didn’t they think of some open space for us? I have some children, and I can’t even find a piece of grass, I can’t even find anything: a park, a pocket park, some open space.’ “ Daley’s push for open space extends into the neighborhoods. New town houses must be built with more land. Green space is
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Mayor Richard J. Daley celebrates his 70th birthday in 1972 with a John Hancock Center cake. Helping slice up the edible architecture are, from left to right, unknown, Michael Daley, Richard M. Daley, William Daley and John Daley. Bottom
Mayor Richard M. Daley reviews a model of Cloud Gate – aka The Bean – during a press conference to announce a multimillion dollar contribution to fund the art installation planned for Millennium Park.
being added to many old public school buildings under campus redevelopment plans. A prime example of this is at 44th and Drexel, where King High School - a stark concrete maiden in a concrete apron - and neighboring Price Elementary School are being knitted together in one large, grassy campus. “You have one school here - and another school - and there’s no correlation between the schools,” Daley said. “Where’s the tennis courts? Where’s, maybe, a practice football field? You want to feel like there’s life in there.” Sometimes the Daley planning vision . . . well, blurs. Last year, for example, he had a notion to turn Solidarity Drive into a clock park: a park with a variety of clocks in it. He admitted even then that people laughed at him when he brought it up. Then came an idea to put a big pole on North Michigan Avenue with a Chicago flag sort of loosely wrapped around it. It died. 41
“Some of the things that have been proposed, someone would say, `That’s silly. Why would you do that?’ But the idea is propose them. Because once you stifle the creativity, you stifle the growth of the city. Some things are not accepted, some things didn’t go through, but at least you presented it, right?” A national group of architects met here last fall. Daley spoke to them of a city where a dying strip such as State Street could be turned around and re-energized; where long-slumbering parks were coming back to life. “There wasn’t anyone in that room who wouldn’t have been willing to take him home and make him mayor of the city where they lived,” said Alice Sinkevitch, executive director of the Chicago chapter of the American Institute of Architects, who attended the meeting. Said a former aide: “He’s a frustrated urban planner. Most mayors would delegate something like that. He really gets into it.” This is the kind of response one gets from the architects and planners who do business in the city. Some draw parallels between
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Mayor Richard M. Daley takes in the Pritzker Pavillion at Millennium Park with the installation’s architect, Frank Gehry, in 2004. 42
Daley and his father, who was dubbed “Daley the Builder” because of the bold, modern skyscrapers and expressways built under his rule. “I hope he stays in office forever,” said Wilbert R. Hasbrouck, a restoration architect and preservationist who is restoring the Singer Building at 120 S. State. “The mayor inherited a respect for architecture from his father. The first Mayor Daley did a great job in maintaining Chicago’s preeminence in architecture; the second Mayor Daley is doing the same thing. He’s making the city an attractive place to build buildings.” Daley is a traditionalist. He likes antique street lamps and lives in a neo-traditional complex. He ignores modernism. He sees the city only in 1920s hues. Wrong. Daley likes the neo-Roman City Hall; County Building “people don’t realize the beauty of the building” - but he is also taken with the Daley Center, the sleek, 1960s glass-and-steel tower
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Richard M. Daley takes a moment to survey the scene as he tours the newly renovated Soldier Field in 1994. The home of the Bears had been spiffed up to host World Cup soccer matches. Bottom
Mayor Daley checks out the expanded River Walk along Wabash and Wacker during a half-hour Wendella boat ride in 2008.
of power at Clark and Randolph. The postmodern Chicago Title and Trust Center at 161 N. Clark is on his list. So is the Thompson Center at 100 W. Randolph and the old Bismarck Hotel building just west. He wants to preserve old architecture, but he wants to see new designs built here, as well. This also wins praise from architects. “Cities are actually chronological displays of building styles,” said architect Chris Lee of Johnson & Lee architects. “It’s good to know the leadership acknowledges it and will promote all styles and designs.” Daley likes the old architecture near Humboldt Park and the restored mansions and apartments along King Drive, Indiana and Wabash in Bronzeville. So, other than the ugly piece of East Wacker Drive, what doesn’t he like? The diplomat surfaces. “My like is someone else’s dislike,” Daley said. “Someone else’s like is my dislike.” ■
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Richard M. Daley takes a stroll through the rooftop garden on the 11th floor of City Hall in 2001. Left
Mayor Richard M. Daley talks with Bella Meyer, the granddaughter of artist Marc Chagall, during an unveiling of Chagall’s American Windows at the Art Institute in 2010.
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