At the time it was built, the Northstar Center was the biggest, most innovative and luxurious building ever conceived for the Mill City.
It was the future. It embodied the hope of urban vitality. And it was really dull to look at.
Not that anyone said so at the time. That was in the early 1960s, when the prevailing wisdom called for a two-step approach to check a city's decline.
Step 1: Raze all the old buildings in the skid row district.
Step 2: Build new charmless inward-looking blocks.
In the case of Minneapolis, that new charmless block was the Northstar Center, at 7th Street and Marquette Avenue.
We barely notice it today. It's brownish-beige, boring from the street, 18 floors, with no windows for the first eight floors, just a mesh to conceal the parking ramp. In its day, however, this now-modest building not only pointed to the city's future, but willed it into existence.
Northstar Center was a rather restrained creation — devoid of ornamentation, somewhat monotonous except for a mast that bore the building's space-age logo.