Eliyahu Gasson | opinions

Duquesne University was blessed with beautiful vistas at the price of terrible topography. The architects that designed our campus were forced to grapple with steep hills and a limited amount of space, resulting in each building on campus having its own unique quirks and character.

This list is meant to be a letter of appreciation to all of Duquesne’s academic buildings. The word “appreciation” should not be misconstrued with the word “love.” This list ranks each of the buildings based on what does or doesn’t make them unique on campus.

Bayer Learning Center: A

Bayer fits into what I’d like to call the “cohesive” section of campus. This includes Old Main, Canevin Hall and the John G. Rangos Sr. School of Health Sciences, all buildings with similar gothic-style red brick facades.

The main entrance is on the first floor, a pretty rare element in buildings on campus. This is also one of the few academic buildings that feels like it was meant for students to hang out in. It welcomes visitors with a high-ceilinged lobby, soft ambient light and a tiled floor.
John G. Rangos Sr. School of Health Sciences: A+:

What kind of Harry Potter fantasy world was this building designed in? A wide open atrium with brick walls and exposed steel beams painted in green and red. Rangos feels like a train station from a Christmas movie. If Duquesne can have something so beautiful on campus, then why does College Hall feel so drab.

Rangos breaks the mold and gets an impossible A+.

Canevin Hall: A

This is the second-oldest academic building on campus, and it shows. Canevin looks more like an elementary school from the turn of the century than an academic hall.

The floor plan juxtaposes the exterior by being simple. Each floor consists of just one straight hallway going east to west with bathrooms on either end. It’s impossible to get lost here, something that cannot be said for nearly any other building on the Bluff.

Thomas R. Kline School of Law: D+

There is a superstition among Ashkenazi Jews that naming after the living brings bad luck.

Entering from Locust Street you’re greeted by a statue of the school’s namesake, Thomas R. Kline, who gave $50 million for the privilege of having a second law school named after him, the first being the one at Drexel.

There is a sinister vibe radiating through the halls of the law school. The statue of Kline and the portraits of judges staring at you — it’s all so stuck up — so much so that positive effects of the exposed brick and wood interior are almost entirely canceled out.

Mellon Hall of Science: B+

Unpretentious, utilitarian, boring. Without knowing its name, you could safely assume that this building was made for scientists.

The top three levels are made of black steel and gray windows which sit atop both a beige brick base. There are four floors, which isn’t great given the singular elevator reserved for staff and people with disabilities. Nothing is worse than climbing up to the fourth floor after a long walk from the dorms.

College Hall: C-

The side that faces Academic Walk makes College Hall look far grander than it is in spirit. The lawn flanked by bushes and the three flag poles gives the false impression that the interior will have something of note.

You probably won’t want to spend too much time here. The ceilings are too low. The lights are too bright. The classrooms are too cramped and many don’t have windows.

A lot of the layout feels like an afterthought — like the liberal arts school outgrew the space years ago and has been at war trying to make space for every program it operates.

Students typically enter on the second floor, which gives them the impression that the first is the basement, which is false.

College of Osteopathic Medicine: B

The newest academic building on campus is also the most exclusive. Only med school students and faculty get to regularly use this space.

This building feels fine. It’s very modern and works hard to make its spaces feel wide open. It’s a bit small, but that’s okay. It only needs to serve the 91 students currently enrolled, and it does that well.

Mary Pappert School of Music: C

A beautiful lobby on the top floor, a smelly vending suite on the second and music radiating through the entire building. I don’t have much else to say about this one. It feels a lot like College Hall save for the better utilization of space.

Genesius Theater: A

Genesius is the most genuine and honest building on campus. The box theater extrudes up from the glass enclosed lobby as if to say “here I am,” without being so bold as to steal the show.

Genesius has everything a theater troop would need to put on a good show. A rehearsal hall, a set construction shop, prop storage, a green room and three dressing rooms: one for men, one for ladies and one for the star of the show.

Libermann Hall: C+

Robert Morris University sold this dinky old building to Duquesne in 2010. Libermann is really a fine academic building, but its location is a killer.

Libermann is physically separated from the rest of campus by a highway overpass and a nasty dark parking lot.

There’s a complete vending suite and a spacious lobby on the ground floor which makes this a solid study spot. But again, it’s a pain to get to.

Fisher Hall: F

This joker is really just five smaller buildings in a trench coat. Its hallways are like labyrinths and its entrances are narrow. Most classrooms are windowless and the elevators are slow.

Fisher lacks any kind of cohesive identity beyond its total lack of one. It’s classless and confusing and ugly. It’s so utilitarian — so function over form — but at least it has a mini market near the sixth floor lobby.

Rockwell Hall: B-

If only the ornately designed ground floor was dedicated to more than Computers and Technology Services. But the sixth floor lobby from the skywalk isn’t so bad. It’s tall, features lots of natural light and has very comfortable furniture. It feels like a mini cafe, great for working and socializing with your fellow business majors.