As I sat by Biscayne Bay, eating my usual 30-minute lunch at school, I could not help but glance at the graffiti-ridden stadium that stands defeated by 17 years of neglect. I wondered why no one in the area did anything to promote the well-being of this once prominent, cultural icon. The shambled seats and rusty metal shroud the area that laid claim to Jimmy Buffett concerts and famous regattas. The Marine Stadium’s disrepair is one of many of historical sites that Miamians seem to forget in comparison to new (but empty) condos and the occasional oil drilling site by the beach.Finished in 1963 on Virginia Key, the stadium was considered an architectural feat. Constructed entirely from concrete and featuring a folded-plate roof, the structure was supposed to stand as a marvel for later decades, a symbol of a changing, modern world. But Cuban architect Hilario Candela could have never foreseen the damage done by Hurricane Andrew. From that point, the government ignored requests to repair the stadium. 17 years later, the Marine Stadium made the list of America’s Most Endangered Historic Places. The threat is labeled “deterioration, neglect, and development.”
These three labels define not only the stadium but also the larger context of Miami. To refer to Nijman, the city has seen its share of deterioration from the locals’ point of view (i.e. Overtown and Liberty City), neglect from exiles who vie to return to their homeland, and development in the form of mobiles who exploit Miami for their economic gain. And the Marine Stadium’s architectural ingenuity arcs back to a Miami of yesterday, a vision that came and left with Flager and Fisher. Why does Miami not appreciate its past? Well, when a city does not even have a clear sense of identity, how can it decide the role of the past and its effects on the present?
But the historical context only begins to scratch the surface. Having visited the stadium, I can attest to the stadium’s structure as indicative of a certain emotion it once produced and continues to produce. The incredible roof covers the blue sky and leads me to focus on the bay. I can imagine an audience aroused by the sounds of speedboats and a premiere of an Elvis Presley film. This feeling of youthful optimism and expression lives today in the graffiti. Their incomprehensible messages signify that this space still has a chance to live up to its story. While it may appear abandoned, the stadium will house a different kind of audience, one who will not allow a city’s decisions to rob them of the Marine Stadium experience. Thus, the future of the Marine Stadium and that of greater Miami depends on the promise of later generations. I hope those sitting by the cafeteria eating their lunch will be as inspired as I was.
For more information and to help the stadium:
http://www.marinestadium.org/index.php
Photo 1 courtesy of "Gator Preservationist" http://gatorpreservationist.wordpress.com/2011/02/08/miami-marine-stadium/
Photo 2 courtesy of Rick Bravo. http://www.marinestadium.org/news/2083
I do see the evident deterioration in the graffiti-covered seats. Every seat seems to be a separate form of self-expression for the masses that paint these abandoned areas. But from above comes a very distinct voice. It shouts a plea to those who can afford these birds-eye-views of the area from fancy helicopters and million-dollar private jets. These faded blue seats scream “We need jobs!”
ReplyDeleteAlthough I have to admit, “FLO JOBS” sums it up quite nicely, and is much less wordy. It is straight to the point and accurate. It is emboldened and evident on the faces of the homeless that roam the streets of Miami; the family struggling to pay rent; on the faces of the young graduates, hoping to muddle through hard times and find that dream they had. It is a voice for the area, but especially for the locals of the area. Of all groups, the locals have endured the worst of the economic storm. They, of all people, have the most right to voice their concerns.
And it no longer seems like a stadium to me. Graffiti has turned this place of marine spectacle into an exhibition of reality. An exhibition targeting the most powerful, but, unfortunately, also the most ignorant on these issues. As long as Miami remains a huge spectacle in the eyes of mobiles and the rich, these urban billboards for the locals will remain unnoticed. Until they open their eyes to the reality staring them in the face.