The Getty Museum's access issues

I sometimes wonder how designers and architects might revisit their work over time.

I'm just back from the Getty Research Institute, which has
stunning views, elegant plazas and a stark modernist facade.  And it also suggests that architect Richard Meier was unaware of issues of access, signage, and wayfinding.

What's up this staircase?  You have to go ahead and climb up to find out. There aren't any signs here. . .

Want to find the easiest access route to  exhibitions, buildings, and accommodations?  Don't even bother looking for the International Symbol of Access, since it's scarcely used anywhere on the premises.

While good signage could certainly help user experience at the Getty, it's clear that Meier himself didn't give the disabled much thought at all.

The museum and institute cover large spaces, the layout relies on staircases to link its sprawling campus, restrooms are spread out, and the entire complex is paved in harsh and unforgiving marble. It is an uncompromising place.

The entire complex seems to have been designed for an adult male, aged 25-45, who is in good physical shape.    The Getty is one of Meier's crowning achievements, and it is unrelenting in its vision. Moreover, it remains largely as he envisaged it some 25 years ago.

But Meier, now an octogenarian, has aged.  He uses a cane.  Perhaps he could not foresee this while young. But I wonder if he's walked through the campus more recently. . . using his cane.

Meier aside, the complex was built before the ADA went into effect in 1990; surely it's time for the Getty to update itself, and join the ranks of other (accessible) art museums worldwide.

How good is a design if the law behind it isn't enforced?

I was pleased last week to talk with the Associated Press and just see their article ("Peppier handicapped symbol gets support, but problems remain") on the new icon of access:
 

Finally, a more nuanced discussion of what a symbol might mean. . . Of course, as a disabled person, my relation to the International Symbol of Access is complex:

"On the face of it, it seems like a really positive step to take," said Elizabeth Guffey, a professor of art and design history at State University of New York at Purchase. "When you start thinking about it more fully, it brings up more questions."

Indeed, I have a great deal more to say about the older symbol, and its usage. I've grown so tired of able-bodied people parking in spots designated for the disabled that I've begun photographing cars I find doing this. This car had no hangtag and was parked (illegally) in the last disabled parking spot at my work. Using my hangtag, I parked in a metered space next to it. When I returned, I got a parking ticket, but this person did not. How good is a design if the law behind it isn't enforced?

An act of rogue design?

The New York Times just published an article the mysterious appearance of Arabic graffiti in the HBO series Homeland.  Appearing in the background of a scene depicting a Syrian refugee camp was graffiti reading "There is no Homeland" and "Homeland is racist."

The producers hired designer Heba Y. Amin (MFA Design, Minnesota) to help transform the set, a Berlin street, into an unnamed Middle Eastern venue. Interesting that the Times called these communications"street art."  When, I wonder, is something "art" and when does it get counted as an act of rogue or subversive "design activism?"