​The Great American Ballroom

Naming the New Ballroom at the White House
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Dear President Trump,

Somebody told me you want to name the new ballroom at the White House “The President Donald J. Trump Ballroom." I know this can't be true. It's fake news.

This gets me to thinking about names. How about a name that lifts up the people rather than any single leader. The American Democracy Ballroom would honor what truly makes this country strong: our shared experiment in self-government. Or, if you prefer, the Great American Ballroom.

Imagine a hall that doesn’t rely on gold leaf or personal branding for its message, but instead welcomes with light, openness, and symbols of the American mosaic. The walls could celebrate the many cultural strands that shape our national identity. There could be a clear acknowledgment that, with the exception of Indigenous peoples, Americans come from immigrant journeys—different paths converging into a shared civic story.
No need for glitter and grandeur. Let the space breathe. Let it feel like a commons rather than a throne room.

A ballroom that is spacious, inclusive, and hopeful:

• A venue for state dinners, certainly
• but also for public gatherings and youth choirs
• for celebrations of our diverse cultural heritage
• for reminding us that democracy is not only historic, but happening

A hall like this would not proclaim the glory of any one person. It would honor the ongoing collective project called the United States: flawed, unfinished, resilient, diverse, and determined to keep growing.

I write this as a Christian who believes every person is made in the image of God and worthy of dignity and care, and that no single individual—no matter how prominent—should be elevated above the rest.

Thank you for considering this hope for a more welcoming future.
​
Sincerely,

Patriotic American

Monumental Architecture 
​

This is a paraphrase of the much more detailed article by R. Grant Gilmore linked below.

Monumental public architecture matters because it is big and it endures. Across the centuries, rulers have tried to secure their legacy by inscribing it into stone, brick, and steel—structures built to inspire awe and make ordinary people feel small. The result is a long and global tradition of monumental buildings designed not merely to delight the eye or to function as seats of power, but often to glorify those in power.

Ancient examples are manifold. From the ziggurats of Sumer and Babylon to the pyramids of Egypt, the imperial complexes of China, and the grand ceremonial centers of the Maya and Inca, architecture served as a visible expression of divine favor and political hierarchy. These structures reminded subjects who controlled the world and whose memory would last.

Modern leaders inherited the same impulse. Napoleon turned Paris into a stage set for his mythic destiny, commissioning triumphal arches and victory columns modeled on ancient Rome. In the 20th century, Albert Speer’s colossal plans for Nazi Germany sought to overwhelm individuals under the weight of the regime, while Stalin’s monumental “socialist realist” architecture projected a fantasy of stability and centralized power that would never fade.

The United States, at its founding, attempted a different architectural story. Drawing on Enlightenment thinkers like Locke, Voltaire, and Adam Smith, the American Revolution rejected the idea of rulers as semidivine figures towering above the people. Leaders were to serve citizens, not dominate them. This political philosophy took architectural shape in the Federal style of the early republic—a language of clarity, balance, and modest classical reference.

James Hoban’s White House and Thomas Jefferson’s Monticello embodied this architectural humility. Their restrained ornament—eagles, urns, bellflowers—offered patriotic symbolism without the flamboyance of European palaces. They expressed civic service rather than imperial spectacle.

All of this forms the backdrop for understanding Donald Trump’s demolition of the former East Wing and his push to construct a new ballroom.The proposed design abandons modest Federal ideals. Many have described its style as outright rococo, though architect and preservation scholar R. Grant Gilmore III (Director of the Historic Preservation and Community Planning Program at the College of Charleston) suggests that its aesthetic heritage aligns more closely with the Gilded Age: showy, self-celebratory, and rooted in wealth and spectacle.
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The shift is not merely stylistic. It raises a deeper question about the role of architecture in public life: Will America’s monumental spaces continue to express democratic values, or will they once again become a stage for leaders seeking their own version of immortality?

- Jay McDaniel (paraphrasing article by R. Grant Gilmore below)

Demolishing the White House East Wing
to build a ballroom embodies
Trump’s heritage politics

​R. Grant Gilmore *
​

​Remaking the White House 

"In remaking the White House and prescribing the style and content of many federal sites, Trump is targeting not just buildings but the stories they tell...By challenging narratives that depart from white, Anglo-Saxon origin myths, Trump is using his power to roll back decades of work toward creating a more inclusive national history...These actions ignore the fact that America’s strength lies in its identity as a nation of immigrants."

Opulence and Glitter:
​The New Ballroom 
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"Trump’s new ballroom is a distinct departure from the core values embodied in the White House’s Federal style. Although many commentators have described it as rococo, it is more aligned with the overwrought and opulent styles of the Gilded Age – a time in American history, from about 1875 through 1895, with many parallels to the present...In ordering its construction, Trump has ignored long-standing consultation and review procedures that are central to historic preservation. The demolition of the East Wing may have ignored processes required by law at one of the most important U.S. historic sites. It’s the latest illustration of his unilateral and unaccountable methods for getting what he wants."

- Grant R. Gilmore III
Who Gets to Speak?

When leaders push selective histories and undercut inclusive ones, they turn heritage into a tool for controlling public memory. This collective understanding and interpretation of the past underpins a healthy democracy. It sustains a shared civic identity, ensures accountability for past wrongs and supports rights and participation...Heritage politics in the Trump era seeks to redefine America’s story and determine who gets to speak. Attacks on so-called “woke” history seek to erase complex truths about slavery, inequality and exclusion that are essential to democratic accountability...Architecture and heritage are never just bricks and mortar. They are instruments of memory, identity and power.

- Grant R. Gilmore III
* Gilmore, R. Grant III. “Demolishing the White House East Wing to Build a Ballroom Embodies Trump’s Heritage Politics.” The Conversation, 24 Oct. 2025, https://theconversation.com/demolishing-the-white-house-east-wing-to-build-a-ballroom-embodies-trumps-heritage-politics-264947


​Architecture and Power
​

Melvyn Bragg and guests discuss the role which architecture has played in our public life throughout history, whether in homage to an individual or as a monument to an institution or ideology, has always been a potent symbol of wealth, status and power. From castles to cathedrals, from the pyramids to Canary Wharf, architecture has always served to glorify in some way the animating ideal of the time. Why is architecture such a powerful form of expression? Have architects concerned themselves mainly with the masses, or restricted their designs to the demands and aspirations of the elite? What can a country's buildings tell us about its ideas of its own past and present identity? With Adrian Tinniswood, Architectural historian; Gavin Stamp, Senior Lecturer, Mackintosh School of Architecture, Glasgow School of Art; Gillian Darley, Architectural historian and biographer of John Soane.
Open Horizons