There's a strange little free iPhone application from the people at Lego that lets you take a picture of something, and then renders it as if it was made out of Lego bricks.
The glittering grid of Chicago streetlights stretches westward across the prairie towards the horizon. In the foreground, the grid is interrupted by the darkened towers of Chicago's skyline.
The sun peeks out over Lake Michigan and illuminates the skyscraper forest of Chicago on an early morning. From this vantage point, several buildings clearly stand head and shoulders above the rest:
Last night, many places around the world dimmed their lights to mark Earth Hour, an even organized by the World Wildlife Fund. I've posted a few photos below. Last year, participation by Chicago buildings was spotty. This year was better, though there were still a few hold-outs.
Among those I could see going dark:
Navy Pier, except for its ferris wheel still blazing into the night (600 East Grand Avenue)
I assume that the Wrigley Building and Tribune Tower participated because they participate in most everything.
The Marriott always has trouble with its sign, so it ended up darkening some of the letters early in the evening (spelling out "Mot").
Trump International Hotel and Tower was also dark, but not for the occasion. In spite of what the Chicago Tribune reported, it does not light up at night at all, so this was one of the few occasions when it actually looked appropriate in the night skyline.
As you can see in the photos below, 300 and 353, and the Hyatt are the brightest things in the Chicago skyline, and conspicuous for their illumination when all of their neighbors have gone dark. As always, you can click to enlarge the pictures and see the offenders.
It's hard to see the forest for the trees. And it's hard to see the skyline for the skyscrapers. That's why sometimes it's good to get out of the city and take a step back in order to appreciate what we have.
This picture is provided as a public service because the Chicago TV stations do a really awful job of showing what the city looks like. WFLD tries, but its studio background ("cyc" [pronounced "sike"] in TV lingo) is so over processed and cartoonish it's hard to believe what you see. And WGN-TV's bumps are so archaically outdated that they still show the old Sun-Times building that was torn down six years ago.
So do yourself a favor and click on the picture to see the Chicago skyline in all its glory. Or at least what my CrappyCameraPhone™ can reproduce.
Last night I tweeted that the high clouds in the sky could make for an interesting sunset. So I set up the iPhone and made a time-lapse movie of the sun going down behind the Chicago skyline as seen from the John Hancock Center(875 North Michigan Avenue).
Unfortunately, the clouds cleared out just as the good colors were coming on, but you can still see its light making rainbows in the ice crystals.
There are a couple of times when the picture jumps. Those are when someone called on my phone. Oops!
Recently I happened to be at the right place at the right time. That means inside the 100-story John Hancock Center(875 North Michigan Avenue) when some windows were being replaced.
I had the chance to stick my head out into the breeze on a cloudy, wet day and feel the thrill of vertigo in my stomach and head. As much as I love being up high, I have a fear of edges, so it took a lot for me to put my beloved Canon and my CrappyCameraPhone™ at risk.
I still get a little bit of queasiness when I look at this CrappyCameraPhone™ picture looking straight down the side of the building. That horizontal member that tapers inward toward the right is one of the building's famous cross braces.
After 40 years, the building exterior could use a good power washing.
From my experience being on the unsheltered roofs of buildings like the Carew Tower in Cincinnati, the G.E. Building in New York, and Chicago's own Shoreham, I can tell you it's not as windy as people assume it would be. People who don't live in skyscrapers have all these crazy notions about tall buildings. About this time last year, emergency officials in Houston, Texas were telling people that for every ten stories up you go in a building, the affects of a hurricane are intensified by one Category. Really? So Hurricane Ike hit the top floor of Houston's JPMorgan Chase Tower as a category 12 storm? I don't think so.
Looking east
It was a little windy being out on the edge of the John Hancock Center, but it wasn't any more windy than it was when I went down to the surface an hour later.
Looking west
Looking up from the gaping hole in the side of the building showed... nothing. Really. Since the building tapers away and was receding in distance, too, there wasn't anything to see but the bellies of grey clouds. Disappointing.
But I did take a video when I was hanging out there. It's probably one of the world's least interesting pieces of videography, but I include it here in the interest of completeness.
The Chicago Tribune has a brief piece today about the WDRV transmitter on top of the Aon Center. When the new antenna was installed on May 31, 2009 we Tweeted about it, and posted a picture of the installation. I'm re-posting the picture here for those who missed it.
For numbers junkies, the new antenna is 1,214 feet above ground level.
Some people don't like the new nubbin because it ruins the perceived flat top of the Aon Center. Those of us who can see Aon's roof have always known it was anything but flat. But I can understand why people may not like it. It's a pretty big change. The only thing that bothers me about it, though, is that it's not centered so it looks a little weird.
The newer high rises of Chicago's Near North Side and Gold Coast look across what was once the Illinois prairie. On a clear day, you can see the buildings of Oak Park, the smoke stacks near Morris, and the hills beyond. With the proper optics... who knows?
Prague is often referred to as the "City of Spires." I've been to Prague , and I think Chicago has it beat.
I started thinking about it a couple of days ago when the Chicago Tribune's architecture critic complained about the spire atop the Trump International Hotel and Tower . He called it little more than a "toothpick."
I'm certainly not going to disagree. It's a shame of a structure, and a disgrace that it's not illuminated at night like the spires of the Sears Tower and the John Hancock Center .
But there are many other toothpicks in this city of spires, as the photo above illustrates. One Prudential Plaza may be the earliest examples of such toothpicks. But at least at the time it served a purpose -- it was a radio and TV transmission antenna. Trump serves no such purpose.
Looking out my window, other buildings with toothpicks large and small:
A blue Icee® gazes out the window of the Roosevelt Road Target store at the South Loop skyline wondering what life would be like if he wasn't a Blue Icee.
In other news, we finally have to acknowledge that there is a South Loop skyline:
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