Lumbricus Terrestris

I don’t know who else caught last Friday’s article in the Metro on the Boston Museum Project. So far, the project has raised $4 million, a fraction of the $70 million projected total cost. For those who are unfamiliar with the Boston Museum Project (BMP), its goal is to construct a new museum showcasing Boston’s past, present, and future on parcel 12 of the soon-to-be created Rose Fitzgerald Kennedy Greenway.

I don’t mean to sound overly critical, but my first reaction to seeing the architectural rendering of the proposed structure was that its smooth, curvilinear shape reminded me of a gigantic smiling earthworm emerging from the expressway tunnel running underneath the greenway. The structure, designed by firm of Moshe Safdie and Associates, has been described as reminiscent of a ship’s helm, “symbolic of Boston's rich maritime past.” All I saw was a giant lumbricoid with a toothy grin.

I am curious to know whether I am alone in finding the design evocative of a night crawler (lumbricus terrestris). Although the design was unveiled back in May 2004 in the BMP’s response to the RFP issued by the Massachusetts Turnpike Authority for parcel 18 (in front of Rowes Wharf)—the BMP lost—I myself saw the design for the first time last Friday while perusing the Metro during my morning commute. I’m sure there were community meetings during the planning phase, but I don’t recall any. Moreover, in the whole of 2005 there was only one community forum held by the MTA, which took place on June 20, after the current design had already been formulated but before the BMP had been designated as the official developer of parcel 12.

I cannot help but think that the proposed structure, with its wormlike appearance, will symbolize less Boston’s seafaring days than the City’s more recent subterranean adventures in the Big Dig itself, as Boston, not unlike an earthworm, tunneled through the dirt and landfill beneath its streets. The problem is that earthworms are efficient creatures. I myself used to play in the dirt a lot when I was a child and spent many hours looking for worms for fishing expeditions with my Dad and sister. Sure, their progress through the soil can appear slow and rather clumsy, but the benefits they provide are numerous. Moreover, in spite of their relative lack of grace, they get the job done, and nobody would question their overall efficiency. If only one could say the same about the Big Dig. Perhaps a structure reminiscent of an earthworm isn’t an appropriate symbol after all.