How New Formalism has grown on me

John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts in 2009, before the addition of The REACH. Left: The Watergate Complex.

Kennedy Center. Photo by Carol M. Highsmith, courtesy of Library of Congress.

Donald Trump's seizure of the John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts, from stocking its board with "yes men" to renaming it after himself to threatening to rip it down if he doesn't get his way with it, has made me see it in a new light.

Kennedy Center at night. Photo by Aude.

Initially dismissing it as the "cross between a concrete candy box and a marble sarcophagus in which the art of architecture lies buried" that Ada Louise Huxtable called it in her New York Times review on September 7, 1971, I now view this Washington venue as more of a jewel-box, a marble temple, and a work of art.

Lincoln Memorial, east side, Washington, D.C. Photo by Martin Falbisoner.

The slender bronze-painted steel columns against the solid Carrara marble exterior wall, complemented by the stacked setback of its top deck from its cantilevering roofline, now present the Kennedy Center to me as sort of a New Formalist reinterpretation of both the columned walkway of the Lincoln Memorial (right) and the riverfront verandah of George Washington's Mount Vernon estate (below), picking up the flat-roofed Acropolis of the former and the sweeping shelter of the latter.

Mount Vernon, west face, Alexandria, Virginia. Photo by Ken Lund.

The Kennedy Center's architect, Edward Durell Stone, himself thought along those lines: “In considering the general building type, I would say that Washington is primarily a city of white buildings in a park-like setting. I would see no reason for departing from that.” (That could be one reason why Trump wants to tear the Center down: it's not "classical" enough for him, given his first term's executive order to make all new government buildings in Washington in the classical style, as he plans to build his White House ballroom and the triumphal arch on Memorial Circle.)

The entrance façade of the Kennedy Center. Photo by Ajay Suresh.

I admit I've had a mite of affection for the Kennedy Center from the start. For one, its gala opening on September 8, 1971, premiered one of my favorite choral works, Leonard Bernstein's Mass, commissioned by Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis for the occasion. The music's blend of avant-garde abstraction and harmonic mellifluence seemed to find its architectural expression in the Center.

Radio City Music Hall (1932), New York. Photo by Smart Destinations.

Museum of Modern Art, New York. Photo by George Marks.

Two, Edward Durell Stone was my mother's first employer after she got married and my parents settled in New York. "Hire her!" was the reaction to the charming impression she made at her interview, based on her office efficiency and conversational prowess. So she became Stone's dependable secretary until her maternity leave when I came along.

Initially making New York history in Art Deco with the Radio City Music Hall (above) and Modernism with the Museum of Modern Art (left), Stone went on to reinvent Classicism in a Modernist framework. He and Minoru Yamasaki brought forth the New Formalism – new as Modern, formal as Classical – that would become their trademark, for better or for worse. At its best, it soared architecture in a flight of spindly columns with the heavenly uplift of a Gothic cathedral, Greek temple or Venetian palace, but with bare-bones assembly befitting the New Frontier. At its worst, it collapsed under its own weight amid the flames of exploded airplanes when Yamasaki's World Trade Center telescoped downward on September 11, 2001, leaving shards of neo-Gothic tracery and bones of fleshy bodies in its wake.

Photo by Richard Taylor.

The Kennedy Center is New Formalism at its partial best. Its land-side façade, solid and pure in its marble-wall consistency and lightened up by its regiment of delicate columns, extends a friendly invitation to us to promenade around its parameters before we go inside to see a play, a concert, or an opera. 

Photo by Y.C. Wu.

In a brief but beautiful scene in the 1976 film All The President's Men, Washington Post reporter Bob Woodward (Robert Redford) exits a taxi in front of the Kennedy Center, just as a big crowd is jubilantly exiting a performance there. This gives him a chance to lose himself in the throng and throw off potential pursuers while he changes cabs on his way to his 2 a.m. meeting with Deep Throat (Hal Holbrook), his secret source of information about the June 17, 1972 burglary in the Democratic National Headquarters in the Watergate complex right next door (see first photo). Though it was unrealistic for a Kennedy Center performance to end as late as 2 a.m., its architecture in the scene had a certain lilt about it, a certain lift, that added to the drama.

Kennedy Center's Grand Foyer. Photo by JohnnyK.

Kennedy Center's Grand Foyer. JFK bust by Robert Berks. Photo by Josh Bowers.

A truly dramatic soar for such a crowd to enjoy is right in the Grand Foyer, which the building's relatively squat, horizontal, ground-hugging stature belies, making it an eye-popping, jaw-dropping surprise for the newcomer. Measuring 630 feet long and 63 feet high, the Grand Foyer is said to have room for the Washington Monument laid on its side along the red-carpeted floor, with 75 feet to spare. 

The ascent of the cathedral ceiling is accentuated by the 16 hand-blown Orrefors crystal chandeliers dangling from above, a gift from Sweden. Together with the salutatory red carpet, they offer guests an internationally warm welcome as a prelude to the Hall of Nations or one of the three auditoriums that comprise the Center.

Hall of Nations, Kennedy Center. Photo by Rupal Desai.

The Hall of Nations extends the welcome with flags of nations with whom the Ufvv.S. has diplomatic relations along its 250-foot-long, 63-foot-high corridor, as a living symbol of Kennedy' s foreign policy goals:

To that world assembly of sovereign states, the United Nations, our last best hope in an age where the instruments of war have far outpaced the instruments of peace, we renew our pledge of support – to prevent it from becoming merely a forum for invective – to strengthen its shield of the new and the weak – and to enlarge the area in which its writ may run. 

Hall of Nations, Kennedy Center. Photo by Ahmad Karimi.

Finally, to those nations who would make themselves our adversary, we offer not a pledge but a request: that both sides begin anew the quest for peace, before the dark powers of destruction unleashed by science engulf all humanity in planned or accidental self-destruction.

We dare not tempt them with weakness. For only when our arms are sufficient beyond doubt can we be certain beyond doubt that they will never be employed.

But neither can two great and powerful groups of nations take comfort from our present course – both sides overburdened by the cost of modern weapons, both rightly alarmed by the steady spread of the deadly atom, yet both racing to alter that uncertain balance of terror that stays the hand of mankind's final war.

So let us begin anew – remembering on both sides that civility is not a sign of weakness, and sincerity is always subject to proof. Let us never negotiate out of fear. But let us never fear to negotiate.

— From President John F. Kennedy's Inaugural Address, January 20, 1961

The three auditoriums – the Concert Hall, the Opera House, the Eisenhower Theater –  vary in style according to the types of arts that are mounted on their stages. But they all avoid the New Formalism of their housing in the name of fine finishes, to immerse their audiences more fully in the concert, theater or opera experience before them, as contemporary interpretations of classic concert halls, opera houses and theaters. 

The Concert Hall, home to the National Symphony Orchestra, has seating akin to that in the Musikverein in Vienna, and is illuminated with Hadeland crystal chandeliers gifted by the Norwegian government. 

The red velvet Opera House, home to the annual Kennedy Center Honors, boasts a red and gold silk curtain given by the Japanese government and a Lobmeyr crystal chandelier with matching pendants, gifted by the Austrian government. 

The Eisenhower Theater, named for President Dwight D. Eisenhower, who signed the National Cultural Center Act into law on September 2, 1958, securing the planning of the Center, mainly puts on plays, musicals, smaller operas, ballet, and modern dance.

But I'm not much for the Center's riverfront face. Its ceiling-high windows look uninviting to water-commuters and interrupt the façade's Carrara marble continuity...

Kennedy Center on Potomac River. Photo by Brooks Kraft.

...though this was partially redeemed by the row of 40 weeping willow trees planted in memory of the 35th President, that were cut down last year, reportedly due to decay and the shallow beds that gave them short lifespans. There's talk about replacing them with weeping cherry blossoms, but fingers crossed...

...and by its distant view on the Potomac at night, especially when the sea and sky form a dark background to the light of the living symbol of JFK's passion for and commitment to the arts in full view, as if waiting with bated breath for Trump's last term to end so it can reaffirm the artistic identity Kennedy and Stone intended for it.

2 Columbus Circle

2 Columbus Circle by Edward Durell Stone, c.1964.

A Stone work of New Formalism that I sheepishly admit I miss, now that it's been altered beyond recognition in a shameless, sloppy way, is 2 Columbus Circle, aka the Huntington Hartford Gallery of Modern Art, in New York City. Lambasted by Ada Louise Huxtable in 1964 as resembling "a die-cut Venetian palazzo on lollipops [that] begs for a canal or garden setting," its creative use of elongated arches, a palazzo arcade with oculi, and a concave curve with the circle had a way of reducing historical forms to their barren geometries with a circusy playfulness that definitely made one stop and stare, like it or lump it. And its plain off-white walls of exposed aggregate concrete – presumably used to display giant banners of upcoming or current art exhibits – gave it a visual flexibility akin to the ever-changing decorations of the Corn Palace in Mitchell, South Dakota, or the ever-more-changing LED display ads in Times Square. Regardless, I miss it now. Because look what they did with it:

2 Columbus Circle today. Photo by Stefan Weisman.

Kudos to a botch-up job by architect Brad Cloepfil for the Museum of Arts and Design in 2008, 2 Columbus Circle now looks like an ink-spill from Charlie Brown's pen in an attempt to write "HI" to his Pen-Pal. This has to be the weirdest fenestration in New York history. The angular protrusions of the windows on Marcel Breuer's Whitney Museum were weird for their time, in their radical disruption of Madison Avenue trad, but have acquired a sculptural appeal over the years that makes this building (now Sotheby's Global Headquarters, housing auction spaces and public art galleries) a pioneering milestone of modernism. But this mess will never pass for innovative architecture. It will only serve to bring up memories of that "die-cut Venetian palazzo on lollipops," which at least brought some of the high spirits of Piccadilly Circus to Columbus Circle, as a rare moment when New York architecture had a sense of humor.

The Dr. Joseph Medicine Crow Center for International and Public Affairs at USC

The Dr. Joseph Medicine Crow Center for International and Public Affairs at USC. Photo by Bobak Ha'Eri.

The Dr. Joseph Medicine Crow Center for International
and Public Affairs at USC. Photo by Sitao Xiang.

This New Formalist cloister by Stone, formerly the Von KleinSmid Center at the University of Southern California in Los Angeles, may be familiar for its use as a film and TV shooting location. In the movie The Graduate (1967), it was the setting for Elaine Robinson's classroom at UC Berkeley, when Benjamin Braddock followed her through the cloister all the way to her class, pressuring her to get her birth certificate in preparation for the marriage he wished to have with her. In The Paper Chase TV series (1978-86), it was a backdrop for the nameless Law School where Hart, Ford, and Bell struggled to meet the demands of the tyrannical Professor Kingsfield.

Photo by Sharon Mollerus.

In reality, it is one of the best mid-20th-century interpretations of the Roman cloister and temple. In fact, it may be Stone's New Formalist masterpiece, for the way it gives students and faculty a sense of logical direction through its corridor and temple courtyard of evenly spaced arches to the academic destination it invites them to at the end of the archway – as the Romans did.

Photo by Nick Grasu

It is also remarkable for the way it invites students and faculty to come forward and partake of its programs in anthropology, art history, international relations, political science, globalization, and applied social sciences by landmarking itself on the USC campus with its international peace symbol of a globe-crowned tower tapered with concave-curved sides, as a guiding light. Its status as Stone's New Formalist masterpiece was cemented in "Stone" in 2021, when it was renamed in honor of Dr. Joseph Medicine Crow, Native American tribal historian and chief of the Apsáalooke (Crow) Nation, who earned his master’s degree in anthropology at USC in 1939. 

“Dr. Joseph Medicine Crow was an ambassador and bridge builder who used education to create intercultural understanding and promote collaboration between peoples and communities,” said USC President Carol L. Folt. “Likewise, this building is an important nexus of interdisciplinary study that unites people across differences. Naming the building — and establishing a scholarship program — in his honor pays tribute to his life and legacy and ensures future generations of students have the opportunity to learn his remarkable story... 

“This building serves as a crossroads for different cultures and communities from around the world, and it is a gathering place for our students. We wanted to rename it for an individual who embodies the qualities we strive for at USC, and when we asked the university community to nominate people for this honor, the selection of this beloved and inspiring figure — one of our most cherished alumni — became clear. I know the USC community will welcome this name with the enthusiasm and joy it deserves.”

Kennedy Center. Photo by Shekhar Mehta.

Edward Durell Stone's personal brand of New Formalism has grown on me over the years all the way from pre-childhood to the present, by virtue of my mother's early connection with him, the roots of the style in his pioneering Art Deco and Modernist designs, and the style's ultimate function as a bridge-builder among nations, architecturally, materially, politically, artistically, and academically. 

Stone found that happy architectural medium among disparate disciplines and worlds as a simple but elegant expression of the peace the liberal arts and positive international relations can bring to the world if judiciously applied. Donald Trump's self-serving interference with that process should be a wake-up call to reaffirm these positive goals that were originally set for the Kennedy Center by its namesake himself.

Thank you for visiting.
I welcome your comments!

Sources:

Alexander, Jimmy, "From George Washington to JFK: A History of the Kennedy Center," WTOP News, September 18, 2026, https://wtop.com/dc/2026/09/from-george-washington-to-jfk-a-history-of-the-kennedy-center/

Backus, Alex, "Claim Trump Cut Down Weeping Willow Trees Outside Kennedy Center Debunked," Newsweek, September 1, 2026, https://www.newsweek.com/claim-trump-cut-down-weeping-willow-trees-outside-kennedy-center-debunked-12393047

"Ben asks Elaine to Marry Him - The Graduate," Jinghong Lin (Fiona), YouTube, posted April 8, 2017, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GZJ2LE2OldA

Dunlap, David W. "Ada Louise Huxtable's New York," The New York Times, January 8, 2013, https://archive.nytimes.com/cityroom.blogs.nytimes.com/2013/01/08/ada-louise-huxtables-new-york/

Gomez, Melissa, "A USC building stripped of eugenicist’s name will instead honor a Native American alumnus," Los Angeles Times, November 18, 2021, https://www.latimes.com/california/story/2021-11-18/usc-native-american-alumnus-building-renamed

"Kennedy Center," Wikipedia, last edited on 17 October 2026, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kennedy_Center

"Kennedy Center: Frequently Asked Questions," National Trust for Historic Preservation, March 23, 2026, https://savingplaces.org/stories/kennedy-center-faqs

Kennedy, John F., and Ted Sorensen, "President John F. Kennedy's Inaugural Address (1961)," Milestone Documents, National Archives, last reviewed on February 8, 2022, https://www.archives.gov/milestone-documents/president-john-f-kennedys-inaugural-address

Lindberg, Eric, "Historic campus building to be renamed in honor of alumnus Joseph Medicine Crow," USC Today, November 18, 2021, https://today.usc.edu/joseph-medicine-crow-building/

Scott, Pamela, and Antoinette J. Lee, "Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts," Society of Architectural Historians Archipedia, https://sah-archipedia.org/buildings/DC-01-FB14

"2 Columbus Circle," Wikipedia, last edited on 18 August 2026, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2_Columbus_Circle