A towering figure falls
Pritzker Prize-winning architect Philip Johnson died Tuesday at the age of 98. His work was not universally loved, and I myself find it difficult to forgive him for producing The Crystal Cathedral (1980).
But Johnson did build my top two favorite Houston structures: The Williams Tower and Water Wall (1983) and the Bank of America Center (1984). Although I love these buildings for multiple reasons, both of them appeal to the thriller movie lover in me. I drive by Williams on my daily commute, and until eight months ago I worked in downtown Houston and would walk past Bank of America frequently. Williams is just plain cool-looking: its clean lines and rotating nighttime beacon are straight out of Gotham City. The spooky gables of Bank of America strike fear into my heart every time I look at them.
Johnson’s youth included a regrettable chapter in the vein of Swastikagate. He later repudiated his infatuation with fascism: “I have no excuse (for) such utter, unbelievable stupidity. I don’t know how you expiate guilt.” Sadly, to my knowledge, he never learned the answer.
Johnson once told an interviewer, “Houston is undoubtedly my showcase city. I saved all my best buildings for Houston.” Maybe I can forgive him for The Crystal Cathedral after all. 
Glad to see a fellow Johnson lover. Personally, I think The Bank of America Center is the only real shining star in Houston’s skyline.
My buddies in college who studied architecture here in Houston got a gutful of Johnson. His shadow is pretty long in this town. Lots of buildings–inlucding UH’s Architecture building.
There’s a whole thread on this here.
He also designed the Pennzoil Plaza Building, where I’ve spent the bulk of my income tax-paying years. (Accenture, Arthur Andersen, KPMG Consulting, BearingPoint). The more time I spent in it, the more I appreciated it. Like the strange paradox of having two building in one, and having the inner foyer actually be the “outside” of the building proper. It’s also this 5-sided shape that creates what’s called a “point” on each floor (usually reserved for the partners during the Andersen days). But a great view of downtown Houston.
I had a chance to do some work for Pennzoil, which was in the other building where the 5-point layout was backwards from what I was used to. Where the men’s room becomes the women’s room, and the point “points” to the “wrong” corner. I kept on running into walls.
I like Pennzoil Plaza, too, but it makes me think of that ridiculous scene in Superman III in which Richard Pryor skis off the roof of a skyscraper and lands on the slanted glass of the ground floor.