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this Trenton Bathroom The project is considered a sign that architect Louis Kahn broke away from the medieval trend and established his iconic vision. This originally unremarkable town has become a mecca for Kahn’s disciples. It is a surprisingly pleasant journey from the state capital to the pastoral suburbs.
The bathhouse was originally built in the 1950s as a Jewish community center and still serves the same purpose as a public swimming pool changing room. It is now managed by the Town of Ewing. A day pass costs $12 and must be accompanied by a resident.
Before we proceed, it’s important to set expectations. Kahn’s designs are usually associated with grand civic and cultural centers like the National Assembly Building of Bangladesh. The bathroom itself is unremarkable at first glance. Architectural Record Call it “mediocre.” From the street, the simple shapes of exposed cinder blocks and building materials peeking out between the honey locust trees made me think I might be in the wrong place. In fact, it wasn’t until I saw Ewing Community Affairs Director Ted Forst serving as my tour guide that I knew I was in the right place.
From the inside, the building’s subtle charm is revealed. The entrance features a mural inspired by the tiled floor of the archaeological site of the Baths of Caracalla in Rome. This artwork is an important thesis statement that helps guide visitors through architect Kahn’s vision, which was heavily influenced by Greek and Roman antiquity. The building is composed of four separate pavilions arranged in the shape of a cross. The simplicity, symmetry, and sparseness of the design resemble ancient ruins.
The bathhouse is still used as Kahn envisioned it when it was built in 1957. The pavilion near the entrance serves as a reception desk for guests. The other two contain bathrooms and showers. The last is a dramatic entrance that frames the swimming pool outside.
Many articles have been devoted to discussing this groundbreaking project, but I often find architectural writing maddeningly esoteric. To put it more simply, there is a sense of brightness and calm to these rooms. The wooden roofs seem to float over the exposed concrete walls, allowing ample natural light and ventilation into these rooms. There are no doors – privacy in the changing rooms is achieved by directing traffic around sharp turns created by the privacy walls – giving the feeling of an endless flow from one room to the next. There are no windows here either. The thick walls block out the outside world, making the place feel remote. The whole place is surrounded by nature, including trees full of chirping birds.
Foster, who opened the pool house to Jersey Digs the day before it opened to the public, remembers bringing his kids here to enjoy the evenings in the early evening, long before he worked for local government. “The sun was going down over there,” Foster said, pointing to a clearing in the woods. “We would have pizza for dinner and stay until they kicked us out.”
It turns out that some features of Kahn’s design were a little too idealistic for modern times. One thing visitors will notice about the cement walls is that the masonry is deteriorating. This is largely due to Kahn’s insistence on not using gutters at the eaves. Rainwater pours down the cement and, over time, scratches the walls. In April, Foster presented a plan to the State Historic Sites Commission to refinish the cinder blocks, touch up the murals, refurbish the original wading pool, and finally install gutters on the roof. While some may insist on maintaining the purity of Kahn’s original vision, Foster believes that these changes were made in order to extend the life of the bathhouse so that more people can enjoy it.
“We plan to keep it there for years to come,” Foster said.
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