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Amid all the chaos emanating from the new administration, architects nationwide are bracing for another battle: President Donald Trump’s threatened classical-only mandate for federal buildings. This looming decree pits Trump’s neo-classical nostalgists (who seem to believe slapping columns on everything magically creates timeless architecture) against those who understand that meaningful design emerges from wrestling with contemporary challenges.
While neo-traditionalists pine for an idealized past that never actually existed, serious designers recognize that architecture must authentically engage with today’s materials, technologies and social conditions — rather than retreat into costume drama. This brewing conflict isn’t merely aesthetic. It represents fundamentally different conceptions of how architecture should serve and preserve society’s past, present and future.
Here’s the thing about historic preservation: It’s not about freezing buildings in amber like prehistoric mosquitoes. Good preservationists understand that buildings, like the societies that built them, aren’t static. They recognize that the Parthenon was cutting-edge in its day — not some retro throwback. When we thoughtfully restore or adapt historic structures, we’re honoring their innovative spirit, not just their superficial stylistic peculiarities.
Meanwhile, thoughtful contemporary design speaks authentically to our moment. Take the National Museum of African American History and Culture, for example. That building isn’t trying to be something it’s not. It’s having a respectful conversation with its National Mall neighbors while boldly expressing its unique purpose. No powdered wigs or knee breeches required.
Then there’s simplistic historicism — architectural cosplay that misses the point entirely. People who fall in this camp seem to think slapping pediments and gilt-covered nonsense on a building magically imbues it with classical virtue. But Thomas Jefferson himself was constantly tinkering with classical forms, adapting them for American materials and needs. He was an architectural hacker, not a slavish copycat.
Mandating a one-style-fits-all approach to federal buildings makes about as much sense as requiring all government employees to communicate via quill pen. A courthouse in Phoenix has different needs than one in Boston. Architecture should solve problems, not just strike poses.