The Pleasures of Red Brick

One of the charms of returning to Bozeman is the architecture. Other people like the mountains, but I grew up in the mountains and couldn’t be less interested.

I like the old buildings. While the town defaces itself with monstrous boxes that no one actually lives in, the old buildings stand regal and dreamy. Their antique brickwork calls and I answer every morning, walking among them as I listen to my Spanish homework.

The wealth that used to flow through this town is dwarfed only by the wealth that flows through it now. But back then they knew what to do with the money and how to build beautiful things.

I walk through the university, drinking up the old halls from all angles. Then down the posh streets nearby, wondering if this is the day homeowners will finally call the cops on me as I pause at length to case their property.

Then I walk back to where we’ve been staying and grouse about all the ugly new buildings I had to endure on my foray. June, tired of my complaining, asks me what I would build instead.

My answer is in these photos. I can’t afford to live in Bozeman, let alone build here. But if I could I would build one of these. I would just find an exquisite old house and have them copy it with an open plan living space and central HVAC.

In fact, if I could, I would drive a classic Jaguar XKE, a Citroen DS, a BMW Bavaria, a ‘66 Mustang fastback, and a black 911 from the 80’s, each of them gutted and fitted with a modern drive train and suspension.

They used to know how to make beautiful things and apparently they don’t anymore. The only solution I can see is to raid the past for its artistic grace. Not in some hideous postmodern way. I mean literally — just make it look like it used to.

Am I wrong?!

Ok, rant over. These pictures should have been taken at the golden hour, but I’ve been sleeping late, reveling in the cold mornings before I head back South. And there are many I forgot to photograph.

I guess I’ll have to come back soon.

#bozeman #architecture #montana