David Rittenhouse Laboratory, Philadelphia PA

When one contemplates the architecture of the University of Pennsylvania, one often conjures up images of the boldly cantilevered glass and steel of the Singh Nanotechnology Center or the rich walnut veneer of Kohn Pedersen Fox's Jon M. Huntsman Hall. The more seasoned among you can perhaps recall the eclectic Romanesque and Gothic details of Frank Furness's celebrated library, the oxidated copper-green of Thomas W. Richard's College Hall, or the oft-acclaimed modernism of Louis Kahn's groundbreaking Richards Medical Research Laboratories. Yet few - if any - mention the David Rittenhouse Laboratory for its architectural qualities, let alone raise it as the structure par excellence of our venerated campus. I intend to argue that this modest yet vibrant complex of concrete and brick is the unquestionable pinnacle of academic building design.

The astute among you may be aghast to hear such a profane and seemingly ill-founded proposition. In many ways, you are justified: Kafkaesque hallways that spiral endlessly deeper into purgatory, stairways suffused with the suffocating glare that filters through the grimy light towers, and the lair of a legendary demon who masquerades under the mortal guise of Benjamin Pisanty. One inevitably becomes Dante, as each step through its meandering, non-climate controlled passages feels like a stumble into a lower circle of Hell. With each touch of the coarse cinderblock, each piercing squeal of an unlubricated door hinge, each breath of the sooty air mixed with the musty mold that breeds prodigiously on the wilting furniture - one dies, and is born again.

And yet all of this is central to David Rittenhouse's greatness, its monumentality that is both ancient and modern. Subverted are the ordered principles of the Greek Classicism, the vitality of the Italian Baroque, and the humanism of the modern phenomenologists. We return to the naked truth: suffering is life. Through David Rittenhouse, we suffer, and through suffering, we find nirvana. Its architects and associated interior designers have realized mankind's most profound physical interpretation of Buddhism's Four Noble Truths since the Mauryan builders of the 3rd century BC.

To truly understand my contention, please indulge me for a moment as I conclude with the following anecdote:
Tucked away aloft in some wing of the labyrinth is a lavatory so divine, that many a traveler never lives to tell the tale of their visit on the account of their being like Narcissus, so enraptured by the beauty reflected in its pristine mirrors, find themselves more willing to die alone of starvation (for thirst is quenched through unspeakable yet obvious means) than to leave its tranquil embrace in a sea of fiery brimstone and gnashing of teeth. Seeking this Arcadia myself, I foolishly presumed it to be the first washroom I happened upon when crossing the hallowed threshold of the 33rd street entrance. It pains me to this day to recount the vile horrors I witnessed; suffice it to say that I emerged as the shell of my former self. Deliriously, I made it to the central staircase and began my ascent (a blood sacrifice is required to access the ground floor elevator). Some ineffable instinct within me propelled me upward, and even though every step sapped me of my paltry strength, I felt - nay, I knew - I was climbing none other than Mount Parnassus itself. Upon reaching the highest of floors, I found myself in a sun-drenched gallery flanked by obscure abstract expressionist sketches. Ghosts of the past mocking me. I pressed forward until at last - the fabled restroom! Aroma of orange blossom beckoned me into the folds of its soft beige marbled walls. Within, intricate tiling and gleaming porcelain that rivaled the richest palaces of Istanbul. Luxurious fixtures twinkled and a breath of fresh spring air rushed through the only operable windows in the entire building. O David Rittenhouse, you have plunged me into the darkest pits of despair, only to lift me to the heavenly heights of ecstasy! Overall, three star experience, could use another elevator.

Not a huge fan. The building is quite depressing. Haven't had great class experiences there either. If you can avoid it I would.

If anyone is interested, this building is the site of the very first game of Magic The Gathering between Dr. Richard Garfield and Barry Reich