The last decade of Georgia State’s history has been marked by its continual expansion and achievements in academics, innovation, and research. Triumphant in these achievements is the moniker awarded by the online magazine Complex to GSU both in 2013 and 2022: 8th Ugliest College Campus in America. Countless TikToks, Tweets, and Reels have echoed this sentiment: GSU’s campus is aesthetically repugnant.
The fragmented campus layout and commuter-heavy student population mean GSU already faces an uphill battle in creating a cohesive campus. With pollution-stained concrete, faux marble facades, and dated brick exteriors, the buildings comprising Georgia State’s downtown exacerbate campus identity issues and leave much to be desired in the ways of looks. Looking out onto campus on any given day evokes a view more reminiscent of Tim Burton’s Gotham City rather than the vibrant, young metropolis students might expect from the Southeast’s foremost “urban” college.
A trained architectural eye may rush to defend the semi-brutalist, function-forward design that many buildings in GSU’s downtown campus offer. A better-trained architect would respond by saying reducing life to the ideals of post-modernists creates, at best, a cold, prison-like, and oppressive aesthetic.
Architecture and mental health are directly linked. Introduced in 1984 by Roger Ulrich, therapeutic architecture describes how an environment’s aesthetics impact outcomes for patients in healthcare settings. With almost three-quarters of students on American college campuses reporting experiencing periodic moderate or severe psychological distress, therapeutic architecture practices have long been implemented when creating campus spaces to help lessen student stressors. Spaces designed without natural light, open community spaces, and natural elements — as many of GSU’s largest buildings are — exacerbate mental health issues, leaving students feeling stifled and out of place.
Recent green space expansions have helped: 2018’s Greenway addition, the recently re-imagined Hurt Park, and now a slate of nine new projects promoting to “reinvigorate and reimagine the campus experience” certainly take strides towards addressing the poor design of GSU’s spaces.
Creating new communal areas, improving access to scarce green spaces downtown, and enhancing the flow between campus buildings, recent campus changes offer the beginnings of a much-needed reprieve for students seeking a more cohesive and traditional “college” experience. However, the brown, gum-covered likenesses of Aderhold and Langdale Halls remain.
Students deserve dignified, well-thought-out spaces that enhance their learning instead of detracting from it. As the school makes more concerted efforts to improve student life through new resources, spaces, and safety measures, the constantly dirtied facades of GSU’s sparsely windowed buildings become an increasingly glaring barrier to improvement. Of course, it’s unrealistic to ask, or even expect, the school to make many changes in this regard. Major renovations and new campus buildings are incredibly costly and often occur at the expense of student fees. However, small, thoughtful improvements to buildings can still enhance spaces for student use.
Georgia Tech’s midtown campus has revitalized many buildings older than Georgia State’s through clever use of outdoor spaces and greenery, which liven up otherwise ugly cold-war-era constructs. Additionally, incorporating natural elements like wood and sunlight into the often detached and cold designs that comprise GSU’s campus
Those who have stepped foot on campus would tell you that the supposedly practically-minded design choices of buildings like University Commons, Classroom South, and Urban Life are undercut by the questionable functionality of many of these buildings’ features.
