If modernism had a baroque period, it was the early 60s. Things got delicate, and a little overdone. Those light fixtures against the wall, for example. The ones on the second floor. The space seems empty and vague, its purpose unclear. What are we looking at? The entrance? A Food Court? The ceremonial space for unspeakable rituals that have kept the locals ageless for decades, and require the sacrifice of anyone who stumbles into their community, unaware of the horrors that lurk beneath? Or was that just a Movie of the Week in 1972? Probably.

It’s still an interesting space. You can imagine Jackie Kennedy and Peter Lawford dancing across the room.