Home for an Hour, 10,000 Miles Away

The Architecture of the U.S. Embassy in Singapore.

Jul 08, 2022

~1,500 words, an eight-minute read

*Front of the Chancery. Image courtesy of U.S. Embassy Singapore.*

It’s a hot, sticky, Singapore A.M. as I alight Napier Road and move toward the first security checkpoint of my nation’s diplomatic headquarters. The building is impressive; even more so up close. The inside will be the true finale, but I must first turn over my cell phone. Anticipating as much, I have no other electronics.

“Impressive” is not the first adjective that comes to mind for many who see the building, apparently. In my hand, I’m holding a copy of a 1996 Straits Times article headlined “Fort or Prison? Neither, it’s the new US Embassy.” Written in those pre-9/11 years when such things could be done, that article’s author stood outside the newly completed building, soliciting opinions from passersby. Most were not exactly favorable.

It’s 26 years later, and today I’m here to see it for myself. The Embassy has graciously agreed to give me a brief tour. I can write something too, as long as the piece is reviewed by security before it’s made public. As an American architect living here for about ten months, the visit is something of an ad-hoc pilgrimage, and I’m excited.

As I make my way in, I’m wondering what Hugh Stubbins – the late architect of the building – thought of that Times article. Something of an under-the-radar architect, he didn’t publicly write much of anything about his designs for it. A quenching combination of shyness and copious confidentiality agreements, probably.

If the man’s other buildings are any indication, though, he was certainly no stranger to sharp, strong, some might say imposing forms. He is probably best known for iconic skyscrapers like the Federal Reserve Bank in Boston and the Citigroup Center in Manhattan: tall towers composed of crisp, angular geometries. Their vast elevations make relentless use of shiny, light silver metal.

But as I wind through the elongated entry sequence of the Chancery (that’s the term used to describe the building, specifically, that Embassy staff work in) I quickly become surrounded by an entirely different kind of surface: a cool, dark grey granite. Earlier, I read it’s from Minnesota. Up close, it’s heavily textured. Cozy, even. Nothing like those metallic towers on the U.S.A. east coast.

From the outside, the Chancery is relatively straightforward. A brief blurb on the Embassy’s website describes it simply enough as:

…a contemporary American office building in a tropical garden city…Constructed at a cost of $30 million, the 118,000 sq. foot building includes offices for a variety of American government agencies, a consular service where visas are issued, a staff cafeteria, a medical facility, conference rooms, and a residence for the Marine security guard detachment assigned to the embassy.

A handful of architectural features, however, are reminders that this is not exactly an ordinary place. The sweeping landscape, granite colonnade, sizable reflecting pool, and plentiful usage of Vermont marble both inside and out are enough to make even the classiest of class A office buildings jealous.

The most prominent exterior feature is a long wing of the building that extends proudly toward Napier Road. Its lower section is clad in granite in kind. Its top is differentiated with an elegantly shaped, postmodern-style roof integrated with deep, bold cornices. Inset into the front facing wall of the wing is a large, stone etching of the Great Seal: the national symbol of the United States that includes a two-dimensionalized bald eagle and the national motto: E Pluribus Unum.

This is not the last eagle I would see, nor the only non-edible one. After I make my way inside, my contact retrieves me from the waiting area. She begins our stroll through the facilities by taking me to a room filled with several folding-style tables sporting...birthday cakes for America. The cakes may be as impressive as the building. Concocted by nearby hotels to help the Embassy celebrate the Fourth of July, ostensibly their sweet slices are ploys to encourage patronage by the many passing-through delegations. Some are really quite extraordinary, and the pictures do not do justice to their width and height, which is of a scale commensurate with an above-average-budget wedding cake.

*Birthday cakes for America. Images courtesy of U.S. Embassy Singapore Facebook page.*

But alas, I’m here to write about architecture, not feast on an angel food astronaut. We move on.

By far, the best room inside is a modestly sized stair hall with high walls extensively clad in Vermont marble. With light streaming in from above, the space is bathed in a cool, silver light: it totally defies the heaviness of the building’s exterior. It’s an especially soothing effect in this hot, tropical country. The commute sweat I accumulated is no longer adherent.

Here, the atmosphere is made even more sublime by a subtle but unexpected floor material: small glass blocks. Each block is smaller than usual, almost hand-sized. When combined with the stainless steel railings, they catch the light and seem to sparkle a little.

And of course, the great room is punctuated with another eagle. This one’s not for eating; it appears to be carved from some sort of reddish stone. It’s placed so as to greet us as we make our way further into the depths of the building.

From what I’ve seen so far, it’s all very nice, if understated. I’ve seen a handful of chanceries. Their architecture varies drastically, but ultimately most are some variation on a theme: an office building firmly lodged in a heavily gated and fortified compound structure. This one is no exception, but Stubbins admirably managed the prerequisites.

On a notable aside, the perception that many chanceries appear like dressed-up bunkers apparently bothered enough influential people that a strange coalition including the American Institute of Architects (AIA) and the likes of former Secretary of State John Kerry sought to do something about it. The result is a 2010 publication by the Bureau of Overseas Building Operations (the arm of the State Department that oversees construction and management of facilities and property) titled “Design Excellence Guiding Principles”. Following this policy shift, the past decade saw a handful of elaborate chancery buildings designed by star-architects. One notable example: a large embassy complex in Beirut designed by Los Angeles-based architecture firm Morphosis. Scheduled for completion next year, it looks about like what you would expect a building designed by a company named “Morphosis” to look like.

Attractive as these newer, glossily-rendered, and highly bespoke designs may be, there is a simmering debate about whether this is the right approach. Concerns came to the fore in a 2015 congressional hearing entitled “Examining New Embassy Construction: Are New Administration Policies Putting Americans Overseas in Danger?” Here’s an excerpt of Representative Darrell Issa’s introductory remarks from the four-hour session:

Today we are examining the results of a Department of State 2011 decision to transition from a successful program of standard embassy design, which stressed security, functionality, to a new undefined, loosely defined design excellence program, which has led to untimely delays in construction as well as increased cost. These delays put American diplomats and their staff in an unnecessary risk. Keeping them safe should be our primary priority.

Built in 1996, the Chancery in Singapore precedes both the Guiding Principles and the debate those subsequently ignited. But for what it’s worth, I see plenty of design excellence. I certainly also see plenty of security. Plus, at an unexpectedly low square-foot cost of $255, all of this seems to have been pulled off with an impressively efficient use of taxpayer resources, even by 1996-dollar standards.

That’s probably because beyond the sparkly hall the building is, for the most part, of the sort that one would expect to get for $255/sqft. It’s an important office building, but an office building nonetheless. With office furniture and office hallways and office ceiling heights.

Still, the longer I’m here, the more I’m touched by the details. One quickly forgets how the little pieces of hardware we touch everyday vary so wildly from country to country. This is a facility for a U.S. Embassy, so it’s not just marble and granite that are flown in from the States. Door knobs, light switches, and of course, electrical plugs, are 100% American style. Even the bathroom partitions, lowered to the ground in many European and Asian nations, here are unapologetically of the standard U.S.A. lifted configuration. Say what you will about the matter. At this moment, I find it an endearing reminder of the nation I spent my first 30.5 years.

So, fort or prison? My certainly biased answer is: neither.

I am literally surrounded by Midwestern granite, New England marble, NEMA plugs, and consumable and non-consumable eagles everywhere. The Chancery evokes an intense recall of something else entirely:

Home.

Below the Line:

Architecture in the news:

Notre Dame to get 400m riverside park under new redevelopment plans (Building Design)

Cities in the news:

In a Soho Loft, Tech Bros Plot an Autonomous City (Curbed)
The Shrinking of the Middle-Class Neighborhood (The New York Times)

The results of last week’s survey:

55% of PinP subscribers opened last week’s email (according to Substack, by the way, anything over 50% is supposed to be extremely good). Of the openers, 11% participated in the survey. Thanks to each of you who participated! Looks like we have an even split between Yes’s and No’s! I’m also intrigued by the Kind-of’s…let me know who you are in the comments, or by replying to this email? (Email replies go to me only.) In any case, here we all are on the ship together, and I hope we can continue to find common ground over our interests in these things.

The Architect's Almanac

Home for an Hour, 10,000 Miles Away

The Architecture of the U.S. Embassy in Singapore.

Below the Line: