Fine Art, Familiar Faces, and Federal Food Court Aesthetics
As soon as the custodian flipped the switch, light came bursting out of the windows and into the darkness of the street like a mall-food-court-mirage in the middle of November. I don’t know if the best ideas manifest when you’re stumbling around the city waiting for the dog to do her business, but this one had. As the effects of a late evening transformed into the exhaustion of an early morning, I drafted an email to the Federal Government of the United States.
“90s mall food court aesthetic.”
That’s the term I used when explaining to Mike, my guide from the U.S. General Services Administration, just why I had submitted a request to photograph his employer’s office cafeteria.
“Sounds about right,” he said.
I truly appreciated his genuine understanding, but wasn’t at all surprised with how readily he’d accepted it. The malls of our society’s recent past tend to have been a ubiquitous experience. As I’ve written about before, they feature traits and design schemes that seemingly everyone can recognize “whether you were from Manhattan, Middletown [Ohio], or Mississippi.”
The mall aesthetic—the one popularized in the 1980s and carried through the 1990s—began facing a rapid demise in the early 2000s. The style may not find its place in the history books next to terms like “Art Deco,” “Neo-Classical,” “Victorian,” or “Contemporary,” but it’s still one with a universal recognition. Even younger folks, who know today’s malls almost exclusively as high-end “lifestyle centers,” have learned about the ghosts of capitalism’s past via an internet rife with “dead mall” documentations, vaporware music, and liminal space artwork.
“It’s not old, but nostalgic,” said the smiling and kind proprietor of Cafe Americana.
He understood it too—recognizing that the glass blocks, fake plants, and structures awash in teal paint reflected an era that had now firmly become bygone. The kind you could’ve once experienced while waiting for your friends near the fountain, or, while watching the characters of Saved By The Bell hold court at “The Max.” A style that folks like me will argue can now be considered “classic” and should be documented whenever and wherever it can still be found.
According to the proprietor, the eccentric collection of portraiture on the walls featuring local, national, and global luminaries came from a past employee. As for the large American flag: It had apparently been displayed on the building when the September 11 Attacks occurred—either flying above or draped over the side as a sign of solidarity. The cafe’s overall “90s mall food court aesthetic” was brought about during a renovation before those days, however, and the building has stood even longer.
A display of photographs with various musicians such as Eric Clapton, Jimi Hendrix, and Willie Nelson.
A display of Cincinnati-related sports personalities such as Bob Huggins, Jay Bruce, Anthony Munoz, and Oscar Robertson.
Bobby Kennedy, Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., Hillary Clinton, Condoleeza Rice, Jackie Kennedy, and Sarah Palin.
Display of children’s television personalities who were once prominently featured on Cincinnati-area channels.
A frame containing Morgan Freeman, Oprah, John Wayne, and Henry Kissinger.
January 2017 photograph showing the Americana Cafe from the outside.
Opened in 1964, the John Weld Peck Federal Building sits in the heart of downtown Cincinnati along Main St.
Per the U.S. General Services Administration:
“…the 10-story John Weld Peck Federal Building is constructed of limestone and glass and located in the heart of downtown Cincinnati. The building is named for the Honorable John Weld Peck, a former federal judge who served terms with the U.S. District and Appeals courts and the Ohio Supreme Court.”
“The Internal Revenue Service is the main tenant, but the building also houses offices for the Corps of Engineers, Equal Employment Opportunity Commission, Alcohol and Tobacco Tax Trade Bureau, National Labor Relations Board, and Department of Homeland Security's Citizenship and Immigration Services.”
The Peck building, which can often fade into the city’s landscape as a drab and gray monolith, may not evoke the same grand stature as some of our nation’s other Federal landmarks, but it still has its place in history. And the nostalgic cafe isn’t the only unique quirk to be found there. A striking interpretation of national symbolism is affixed to the outside, and within: you’ll find that sculpture’s original model, as well as, an intricate mosaic by the renowned Charley Harper.
“American Eagle” (1964) by Marshall Maynard Fredericks.
Original model for “American Eagle.”
Harper’s “Untitled (American Wildlife)” features two large panels of intricate ceramic tile. Guides on each end of the work aid viewers in identifying the various creatures. Harper, who hailed from West Virginia and based his career in Cincinnati, passed away in 2007.
Thank you to Jena Richter and Mike Ball of the General Services Administration for your assistance with this documentation, as well as, your service to the country.
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