The value of civic identity in civic buildings

Is discussed in "Assessments," a column by Alan Ehrenhalt in the January issue of Governing Magazine. From the article:

As you have probably heard, we are soon about to embark on another federal stimulus program aimed at heading off (or at least softening) another economic collapse. A large proportion of the stimulus money, perhaps most of it, will be given to states and localities to spend on infrastructure. When people use the word "infrastructure" these days, they nearly always mean roads and bridges, or, as the phrase invariably goes, "crumbling roads and bridges." But I wonder whether some of that money might be set aside for public buildings, either for renovating them or to help pay for something new that is as good as the Houston City Hall.
Government buildings, whether they house a city council, a county board, or a state legislature, are the tangible manifestation of American democracy. From a civics perspective, it makes all the sense in the world to invest in doing them well, as Roosevelt and the WPA generally did. Would this make short-term economic sense? I can't say I know the answer. But I think the question is worth asking.

THERE WAS A TIME in America when almost every big city felt it a matter of obligation and pride to build an imposing edifice for conducting public business. Odd as it may seem, I was reminded of this when I saw "Milk," the new fictionalized film biography of Harvey Milk, the gay activist and city supervisor who was assassinated, along with Mayor George Moscone, in San Francisco in 1978. Most of the audience was riveted on the uncanny acting of Sean Penn, who played the title role. I was, too. But I also was struck by the performance of a supporting character, one that did not act, speak or even move. It was the San Francisco City Hall.

As it appears in the movie, San Francisco's city hall is awe-inspiring — so immense and beautiful that you almost think you are looking at the capitol of a sovereign nation, rather than the seat of local government in a city that never reached a population of a million people. Two full blocks square, with an elaborate grand staircase and the fifth-largest dome in the world, it seems to beg for an emperor, rather than a mayor and 11 district supervisors.

-- Check out these city hall buildings