Library's design apt, enlightened

During the dozen or so years spanning the change from this millennium to the next, Seattle's public spaces are undergoing a renaissance in design and, in some cases, purpose, owing to the advent of cyberspace.

In architecture, for the most part, mundane is out and mind-blowing is in.

Along the continuum of concrete revisionism are the new federal courthouse, music hall, civic center for city government and sports stadia. Due for refurbishing are Seattle Center and the Washington State Convention and Trade Center.

The single block where the pressure to succeed is appropriately the greatest -- in the eyes of taxpayers footing the bill -- is bounded by 4th and 5th avenues, Madison and Spring streets. It's the current and future home of the Seattle Central Library.

Never has a library designer faced so daunting a task in creating and fostering access to information. From television to the Internet and beyond to e-books, he must accommodate the explosion of library functions beyond the housing and reading of paper-and-glue books. As Dutch architect Rem Koolhaas acknowledges of his charge at the downtown library, there is "incredible pressure on each square inch.

"In an age where information can be accessed anywhere, it is the simultaneity of all media and the professionalism of their presentation and interaction that will make the library new," Koolhaas aptly states. His Office of Metropolitan Architecture was chosen this year to design the $90 million facility, with more space and more books than ever.

Fortunately, Koolhaas' firm and its Seattle partner, LMN Architects, appear equal to the task, judging from the results of their first six weeks at the drawing board. Boring this design is not; bold it is.

Most important, Koolhaas' vision is sophisticated in its outward trappings (all that's visible so far is the exterior) but eminently serviceable in its interior functions.

First, the appearance: Granted, a percentage of those appalled by Frank Gehry's design for the Experience Music Project at Seattle Center, a public-private venture between the city and Paul Allen, will shudder all over again.

But Koolhaas' vision is far from eccentric. It's radical, yes, with its five off-center platforms of 15 floors that shift from side to side. But it's coherent.

What's more, the "skin" that Koolhaas envisions, a honeycomb coating of foot-thick metal tubes wrapping around the building, has dual purposes. Besides supporting the structure, important in a city waiting for "the big one," the skin invites in whatever light there happens to be.

In another bid for the library to interact with its environment -- the site is nestled in a valley of giant buildings -- the vast expanses of glass on all sides will foster view corridors toward Elliott Bay, Mount Rainier and even I-5.

At this early stage in the process -- construction won't begin until April 2001 -- the library has tremendous potential to shine in both form and function. Among all the structures rising downtown over the next 10 years, it promises to be the most magical of democratic spaces.