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On Politics Richard Borreca |
STAR-BULLETIN / 1999
The open atmosphere of the Capitol may change soon to accommodate new security measures. In 1969, when the building opened, the domeless design suggested limitless horizons for a hopeful new state. Lobbyists chat in an upper hallway of the Capitol.
Modern realities dim
past hopes reflected
in Capitol’s designWalk to our state Capitol from any direction and the view never fails to impress. I have always thought of the building, with its broad lawns and nearly two acres of reflecting ponds, as a modern expression of both dignity and the ideal of an open Hawaii state government.
After the Capitol opened in 1969, the Citizen's Conference on State Legislatures called it "the most impressively beautiful and functionally effective legislative structure in the United States."
But a recent talk with a local architect made me think about the Capitol in its historic terms. Mulling over the actual building is important because Governor Lingle is reviewing calls to change the security settings for the building and whatever decision she makes will change the architecture.
When we walk into the Capitol we are walking back into the 1960s, an era of optimism and hope in government epitomized by a new young president, John Kennedy.
John Carl Wernecke, a Kennedy friend, designed the building with obvious symbolism. The two legislative chambers rise from the ponds like our volcanic state climbing from the Pacific Ocean. The 40 concrete columns taper and then flare in a representation of the royal palms.
While other states inscribe their capitol's domes with a state history or motto, Hawaii chose to be different and left the dome implied in our blue sky, giving openness and light to the great courtyard.
STAR-BULLETIN / 1997
The Capitol lobby is a natural gathering place for Hawaii residents. Thousands of people waited to pay their respects to the late Israel Kamakawiwoole during his 1997 funeral as the beloved musician lay in state at the Capitol.
The legislators' doors are arranged around interior lanais trimmed with heavy koa railings, making it easy to find and stop to talk with your elected representatives.
From the handsomely crafted koa benches in the House and Senate chambers, 180 spectators can peer down into the middle of the legislative arena.
The atmosphere of openness reflects a time before the Pentagon Papers revealed government lies about the Vietnam War, to a time before Watergate and decidedly before the impeachment of Bill Clinton.
Considered as a metaphor not just for Hawaii but for the romanticized Kennedy legacy of just government service, there is a naive and almost dated innocence to Hawaii's Capitol.
The hope was for a politically transparent government, building on the elements of nature, and the collaboration of Hawaii's cultures coming from a building constructed from plans drawn in 1960, just a year after we became a state.
So when there is talk of changing the Capitol to better protect its inhabitants, it should send a shudder to those who appreciate the building. The state will change the Capitol not to reflect our grandest ideals, but our greatest fears.
Given the times, you cannot successfully argue that a lunatic or terrorist will not attack the state Capitol. It is a different world since the terror attacks in New York and Washington.
When the heavy bronze elevators are sealed, school children are shuttled through metal detectors and Father Damien's statue is flanked with concrete blast barriers, perhaps the state Capitol will appear safer; but it will also be the day our Capitol mirrors the reality and not the hopes of government.
See the Columnists section for some past articles.
Richard Borreca writes on politics every Sunday in the Star-Bulletin. He can be reached at 525-8630 or by e-mail at rborreca@starbulletin.com.
