March 2026.
As I-71 curves eastward into Linden and away from the Ohio State Fairgrounds, a stalwart concrete bastion is visible to the west. This Brutalist building is the Ohio History Center, one of Columbus’s most unique works of architecture. It is Ohio’s principal history museum and home to the Ohio History Connection. This post will be in a two-part series because I also visited the interior and returned at a later date for the library.
The Ohio History Center is located at 800 East 17th Avenue in Columbus, Ohio. It’s in a sort of gray area with the neighborhoods, but I’m grouping it with my Old North Columbus articles. It is bordered by Ohio Village to the north, the state fairgrounds to the south, I-71 to the east, and state fair parking to the west.
History
I’m omitting the history for this second post, which may be viewed in its companion.
Photos
The school year was winding down and I had free time, so I figured giving the extra attention to the Ohio History Center would be worth it. I guess I’m spoiled as a Chicagoan with the giant Field Museum downtown, which is our natural history museum, and as a result I was left a little underwhelmed by the exhibits (mainly in terms of quantity, not quality). However, the staff working were all very knowledgeable and helpful--I recall one gentleman running a demo who struck up a conversation with me.
The first thing one sees when entering the museum floor is the giant mastodon skeleton:
This is the Conway mastodon, one of the most complete mastodon skeletons in the state. It was discovered near the line between Clark and Champaign County in 1887, and it was originally displayed in Orton Hall on Ohio State campus.
Despite the alterations to the remainder of the interior, the central atrium is most accurate to its original appearance:
That red carpet is VERY 1970s. Seems like we’ve entered the Bureau of Control.
From the opposite side:
This is the only double-height portion besides the library, and the height and its central placement establish a hierarchy.
I was loving the concrete stairway and its scissor-like form:
It was the only area that had the “pits and platforms” idea from the original interior design.
Each of the three walls had a sign with an older logo of the OHC, and this one has its modern logo. I’m curious what the faded text behind it once said, though.
The curve of the ledge above was also very interesting, as it is indicative of the sculptural quality of Brutalist concrete. Note the seams made by the board forms, which were deliberately retained, another example of “material honesty”:
I failed and didn’t get a better picture later, but note the exposed hardware below the ceiling--those are the ends of the cable system that supports the cantilevers. They were deliberately left exposed such that the structural system could be explained to visitors with visual aids.
My favorite exhibit was the reconstructed Lustron house. Stay tuned for a future article about the others in Columbus, but this one was rebuilt inside the museum as an exhibit with authentic furniture and fixtures.
I had to mess with the settings a bunch, but this crappy, underexposed photo was intended to show the steel trusses used for the roof:
The bathroom is actually pretty stylish:
Master bedroom--someone wants to escape suburbia, judging by the curtains and Nat Geo on the nightstand:
Lots of storage and even a vanity for the missus:
Boy’s bedroom, complete with cowboy-themed curtains and smaller furniture:
Massive TV set and snazzy furniture:
The dining room has a nice built-in hutch:
HEY! Where’s my marble countertop, gigantic island, and triple ovens?!
To be fair, these were small houses even for the time.
Laundry area with some sort of rolling apparatus:
I’m about three generations removed from this stuff, so Atomic Age appliances aren’t always easy to identify compared to their contemporaries.
This family was prepared in case those dirty Commies came in with fallout and brimstone:
Original steel paneling and aluminum windows too…nice.
Looks like they have a Bel-Air and an Airstream trailer, too. This family gets around.
On the other side of the museum sat this vibrant green streetcar:
I imagine No. 6 was the line it ran on.
The paint is definitely restored, but it’s very historically accurate. Loving the drop-shadow effect to it:
Maybe a little cramped by today’s standards, but I’d rather take one of these to school/work instead of dealing with High Street traffic.
I also liked this serif-packed sign with the manufacturer’s name:
Assorted china, porcelain, and stoneware:
I can’t remember what exactly the context for this area is, but I think it’s part of a new exhibit that will take the form of a 1920s soda fountain:
After I was done with the museum, I went upstairs to the second-floor atrium, where the museum was originally entered:
Mmm…more waffles.
Looking back now, I wish I would have stood directly under this ceiling inside the museum and gotten a picture looking straight up. I did this a lot on my recent Europe trip, and those pictures are excellent.
West towards the auditorium skylight/dome:
This level had some interesting car exhibits and even a biplane, but I struggled with the bright sun outside versus the dim interior, so this next one isn’t exposed properly:
One of the aisles formed between the opening to the museum and the walls:
Can’t get enough of those angled shots:
I went upstairs briefly to try and ascertain if I could get access to the library. I didn’t take pictures of the spaces up there, but I noticed that several were classrooms and had these tiny windows punched through the concrete:
If you look carefully at photos of the exterior, they are indeed visible and have different shapes, but they blend in well.
I also thought this globe-shaped exit sign was unusual:
I entered the library’s reading room and spoke with the lead librarian, who was very accommodating. She explained that she’d need to speak with her supervisor to make sure I could take photos, as to her knowledge they restricted photography unless set up in advance. I waited around quite a while, since it was during their lunch break. Luckily, the librarian was more than willing to indulge in conversation. I ultimately discovered that I would need to complete a special form to take pictures, and that I would need to come back another day.
Doing the form was rather humorous, as it was very obviously intended for movie/documentary crews that planned to use the building for intensive shoots. I recall questions such as equipment needed, if I had insurance, how many people, etc. I wasn’t sure if they’d bite with letting me take pictures for personal use, but I think the brevity of my session (about 20 minutes) probably helped. In the end, I was allowed to come back, but I had to visit on a day that the reading room was closed to the public, and I had to be supervised the entire time.
As you can see, I think the extra time was well worth it. This is a very unique space, as most of the libraries I’ve visited are historic ones, and those have a much different philosophy towards their design. Whereas older libraries were perceived by the Moderns as dark, archaic places, the Ohio History Center’s reading room is a soaring, well-lit space.
These light fixtures are the same as those elsewhere in the building, but I think the warmer temperature of the light here is more historically accurate.
The room is three stories high, and the roof has four skylights, also mirroring the four shafts that the cantilever uses for structural support. I believe it is perfectly square, too. Since it is in the center of the building, it is surrounded by the history center’s archives on three sides.
Although the walls lack the graining on other board-formed concrete elsewhere in the building, they still have regular patterns embedded into them:
I assume these little ducts hidden way at the top are for ventilation:
More waffle slab goodness:
I isolated one coffer at an angle:
The wood paneling is meant to recall the finishes of historic libraries, but the rest of the space is unapologetically Brutalist.
One of my favorite subjects, too!
There’s no grand announcement of the main entrance from inside or outside, only a slight break in the bookshelves.
Another one of those exit globes:
This portcullis is pretty neat, too:
Note the rounded corners of the opening--these are meant to deflect the stress of the concrete and avoid possible cracking. It is the same structural principle as vaulting.
Tons of ancient tomes line these walls. Before the internet, this is how I would have had to research these posts--combing through decades-old city directories and other similar documents. We are pretty spoiled today.
The side door here has the same rounded opening as the main entrance:
The opposite end seemed to have an information desk at one time, which has been walled off:
Corner of the waffle above:
I can’t remember where exactly this clock was, but its lack of a background caught my attention:
These skylights are rather interesting, and I devoted a lot of time to document them and the effect they had lighting-wise.
Each of them also has four chandeliers mounted on them, as seen before.
Everything lines up perfectly.
Increasing the shutter speed meant the blue sky and skylight were perfectly visible, but the concrete ceiling was reduced to blackness…
…while doing the opposite properly exposed the waffle slab but turned the sky blindingly white:
Hey, I did look up for one shot:
Oops, I did it again…
Ireland even designed all of the furniture inside a la Wright--note the cantilevered edges of this table, mirroring the same effect on the exterior:
Although I’d pick studying in Thompson Library or Orton Hall any day, it was important to me to document a more modern library and its differences in design. After all, architecture is subjective, and some people may enjoy an airy interior such as this one. It certainly contrasts with the even older books stored inside.
Sources:
https://www.ohiohistory.org/how-to-find-a-mastodon-the-story-of-the-williams-mastodon/
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