At this early stage, it seems that our departing president, Harold Shapiro, will be remembered principally for two accomplishments: first, his apparent Midas Touch for fund raising, and second, the building boom he oversaw.
The results of Shapiro's apparent love for construction sites are all around us: DeNunzio Pool, Princeton Stadium, Scully Hall, the Center for Jewish Life and Frist Campus Center are but a few examples. For the curious, a display in the Firestone Lobby shows the full effects of Shapiro's backhoes. In the display, new buildings and renovations from 1988 to 2001 are color-coded orange and black, respectively.
But there is a certain ambivalence on campus about Princeton's constant construction. While it's wonderful to have new facilities each year, many worry that Princeton is growing too fast, encroaching on its open spaces and destroying historical areas of campus. It seems to be a symptom of New Jersey sprawl — to build on every available open space — and perhaps it's not a trend the University needs to emulate.
As the University has grown it has lost much of its quaint, intimate feel and sacrificed aesthetic beauty for convenience's sake. Recently, however, the administration has taken steps to mitigate some of construction's ill effects to ensure the campus retains its attractiveness in the years to come. It remains to be seen how successful the University will be in ensuring the campus' continued aesthetic distinction.
Shapiro, of course, is not the first Princeton president to encourage incessant campus construction. During Princeton's 245 years on this site, there have been several building booms to rival the present one. For perspective's sake, it is worth looking at how the campus has changed over the years.
The College of New Jersey — Princeton's original moniker — was originally housed entirely within Nassau Hall, which was built in 1756. It may seem impossible to believe now, but Nassau Hall was the largest building in the thirteen colonies when it was completed. It was America's Versailles.
In the next hundred years, several more buildings were built, but they were carefully planned to maintain a classical, symmetrical design for the College. Stanhope Hall (then called Geological Hall) had an identical twin, called Philosophical Hall, standing on the far side of Nassau Hall. Likewise, West College had a twin — named, as the reader might guess, East College — which stood opposite of Cannon Green, where East Pyne is now located.
The reader should imagine these four buildings in a rectangle around Nassau Hall. Finally, in 1838, Whig and Clio halls were erected, completing the constellation of symmetrically-aligned buildings surrounding Nassau Hall. There were other buildings on campus, like a smaller chapel and the president's house, but the college centered around these seven buildings, mirror images of each other, until after the Civil War.
In 1868, when President James McCosh took the helm of the college, he discarded the classical tradition of symmetrical campus layout in favor of a more scattered, park-like arrangement. His work is shown in the eclecticism of the diagonal line of dormitories that McCosh built: Witherspoon (1877), Edwards (1880), Dod (1890) and Brown (1892). These dormitories predate the gothic dormitories of Rocky and Mathey by about 20 years.
Other buildings constructed during McCosh's tenure include Chancellor Green (1873), which was originally separate from East Pyne, and Murray Hall (1879), which would not join with Dodge Hall until the turn of the 20th century.
The sesquicentennial year 1896 was a turning point for the college. That year, Woodrow Wilson 1879, then an administrator under president Francis Patton, delivered his famous "Princeton in the Nation's Service" address. At the same time, the College of New Jersey officially adopted the name Princeton University. Finally, the trustees agreed that year to mandate the collegiate gothic architectural style for all future buildings. Blair Hall (1897) was the first manifestation of this new policy.

As president of the University from 1902 to 1910, Wilson defined the campus along collegiate gothic lines. He built Patton, 1879, Campbell and Holder Halls as dormitories and McCosh Hall, Palmer Laboratory and Guyot Hall as academic buildings. While decorating Princeton's campus with copies of Oxford and Cambridge universities' ancient architecture, Wilson was establishing it as one of America's premier universities by modernizing its academic program — Wilson is responsible for preceptorials and distribution requirements, and he argued vigorously but unsuccessfully for the residential college system.
At the same time, much to Wilson's chagrin, the eating clubs were constructed along Prospect Avenue. With the growing importance of the 'Street,' as well as Wilson's placement of academic buildings, the center of campus moved southeast from Cannon Green toward McCosh Courtyard.
The years leading up to and following World War I saw the construction of more buildings, especially dormitories, in the mandated collegiate gothic style: Hamilton (1911), Cuyler (1912), Pyne (1922), 1901 and Laughlin (1926), Lockhart (1927), 1903 (1929), Walker (1929), and Joline Halls (1932). This style of architecture clearly has defined the look of Princeton's campus and its popular conception as a conservative school steeped in tradition.
Aside from the construction of Firestone Library in 1948, the look of campus did not change substantially during the Great Depression, World War II or the ten years that followed. So when President Robert Goheen '40 took office in 1957 he initiated a period of tremendous change.
On the one hand, we owe coeducation to Goheen, but, on the other hand, we can blame his administration for Princeton's architectural nadir. A tour of the buildings built during his tenure constitutes an architectural trail of tears: the E-Quad (1962), the School of Architecture (1963), Wilson College (1960-61), Butler College (1964) and New South (1965).
In Goheen's defense, a few of the buildings erected during his time are interesting, such as Robertson, the home of the Wilson School (1965), and Jadwin Gym (1969). Still, while Goheen may have been an enlightened administrator in many ways — besides allowing women to enroll, he significantly increased the minority presence on campus and made Stevenson Hall, which was housed in 83 and 87 Prospect Avenue until this year, into the Ivy League's first kosher dining hall — his architectural record is abysmal.
President William Bowen GS '58 did not match Goheen in terms of campus construction — during his 15 years in office he built only six buildings — but he created the residential college system as we know it today. Rockefeller and Mathey colleges did not exist as such until 1983, and the Princeton Inn did not become Forbes College until 1984, although it had been a residential college since 1970.
President Sha-piro took office in 1988 and initiated his own construction boom to match Goheen's, Wilson's and McCosh's. The buildings constructed during his presidency redefine Princeton's appearance, especially on the southern end of campus.
Fittingly, the University owes its new look largely to one of its distinguished alumni, Robert C. Venturi '47. Venturi designed Wu Hall (1983), Lewis Thomas Laboratories (1986), Bendheim and Fisher halls (1991), Schultz Laboratories (1993) and, of course, Frist Campus Center (2000). Other modern buildings, if not designed by Venturi, have a similar appearance: The Computer Science building (1989) and Marx Hall (1993) seem to owe something to Venturi. The Center for Jewish Life (1993), by Robert A.M. Stern, may be the only recent campus construction to resist the inexorable pull of modern architecture.
The question, then, is whether, 25 years from now, when today's seniors are leading the P-rade at Reunions, people will see Shapiro's buildings in the same negative light as we now view Goheen's. Students should keep in mind that, for years after it was built, Alexander Hall was considered a monstrosity. But most of us would agree today that the building is beautiful. On the other hand, it seems doubtful that anyone will ever praise the aesthetic virtues of New South's design.
Plans have been discussed for extending the campus to the other side of Lake Carnegie, which could serve as virgin territory for a new architectural experimentalism. Will Shapiro's buildings be considered models for future construction, or mistakes to work around?
Kit Cutler '01 served as Orange Key's historian from February 2000 to January 2001. He is from Moorestown, N.J.