Dean Marriott's Sewer Palace

(For a video tour of the Sewer Palace, go here.)

Mallard-hen couples rest on concrete beds in a pond off to the side of the patio. The sun, strong but not overbearing, gleams down on this abnormally idyllic March afternoon. I rest my arm on the top of the stainless steel grill—one of two on this swanky patio—to enjoy the view of a neighboring pond, which is sometimes stocked with goldfish.

"Looks like the 3:05 blue heron isn't here yet," an engineer says.

"Mind if I use this grill while we wait for it?" I ask.

I have two sausages from Fred Meyer's deli counter in my messenger bag, and they aren't getting any fresher.

"I can't see any reason to fire up the grill," says Linc Mann, spokesman for the Portland Bureau of Environmental Services and today's tour guide.

I am in a city-owned space—this patio is part of an office complex Portlanders paid $11.5 million for and which houses just 38 employees—and yet I am not welcome to use this grill. That privilege is reserved for the people who work here at Dean Marriott's Sewer Palace, home to what may number among the finest collections of Richard Schultz's furniture outside of the Museum of Modern Art in New York, where he once had a one-man show.

It's easy to forget when you're at 5001 N Columbia Blvd. that you're kicking back at one of the premier publicly funded boondoggles of the past few years. Dean Marriott's Folly, the Shining Porta-John on the Hill or, if you're being official about it, "the Columbia Building."

It's been a year and a half after it opened to anger and guffaws because the cost of the building ballooned to over three times its initial budget under the watchful eye of Marriott, the former BES director (and unofficial art curator) who resigned earlier this year.

After much outcry—WW, KOIN, The Oregonian and others covered the wild cost overruns that came from hiring one of the city's trendiest architecture firms, which insisted on Tai Ping carpet squares to go under Jehs & Laub lounge chairs sold at Design Within Reach—the deck overlooking the pond and kitchen may open to the public starting this summer.

So WW decided to revisit this monument to lax oversight and great taste. But alas, much of the art is in the private gallery. (Read: not in the lobby or restrooms.)

Some background: In 2007, the BES recognized it needed a new, permanent building to replace the moldy trailers its employees had been working in for 15 years ("Space of Waste," WW, April 30, 2014). The initial budget approved in 2009 was $3.2 million. By the time the BES moved into the finished Columbia Building, the price had swelled to $11.5 million. That averages to just over $300,000 per worker. As many observers have noted, that's enough to buy each engineer a house.

One might raise an eyebrow over approving a budget before consulting either a designer or architect. Or then choosing Skylab Architecture, a firm most famous for designing the posh rooftop bar Departure. Or letting an architect who isn't licensed in the state lead the project. Or spending only $27,000 on "design oversight," and $110,000 to fix the problems caused by the overly steep roof favored by the aforementioned architect. Or spending $408,000 on furnishings, including two $1,500 dining tables and eight $830 matching dining chairs. Or why, given the ostensible justification for the chic furnishings—an advisory committee requested that the building offer public meeting space—the building is still not available to the public nearly a year and a half after completion.

Does a publicly funded building need a $2,000 midcentury modern lounge chair? (Keep in mind that the bargain-hunting BES acquired these Jehs & Laub lounge chairs with pedestal bases for $1,933 each, over $1,000 less than they retail at Design Within Reach.) Or a $1,500 Richard Schultz white petal coffee table? Or a $15,000 restroom sink with a malfunctioning soap dispenser?

It doesn't matter, Portland. The money is spent. We, the taxpayers, own a decadent yet tasteful workspace for wastewater engineers that includes two grills on a private patio overlooking a pond and a $19,225 tile mosaic of Portland from above. All we can do now is try to enjoy it as best we can. 

Below, you'll find some of the more gripping and luxuriant works in Dean Marriott's Sewer Palace.

ON THE GROUNDS: A. Eight dining chairs from Richard Schultz's 1966 collection ($833 each) / B. Two rocking chairs from Schultz's 1966 collection ($1,189 each)   / C. One double rocking chair from Schultz's 1966 collection ($1,546) / D. Two white petal dining tables from Schultz's petal collection ($1,535 each) / E. One white petal coffee table from Schultz's petal collection ($1,482) / F. Two Jehs & Laub lounge chairs with pedestal bases ($1,933 each) / G. Two Ross Lovegrove rectangular tables ($1,789 each) / H. 79 square feet of Tai Ping carpet ($5,200) / I. Tile mosaic of the aerial view of Portland ($19,225, plus an additional $40,000 to modify materials during construction because "the specified system for printing aerial photograph on glazed tiles had not been tested during design.”)  / J. Thirteen-plane, grass-covered eco-roof ($30,000 to add barriers to prevent soil from sliding off because the angle is too steep. $80,000 in other design changes) / K. Gas grill built into the patio  / L. Bastion, an unfinished sculpture commissioned for the Percent for Art program. Expected to be installed in five years ($125,000 per the audit report, not based on final budget) / M. Large windowpanes along exterior that were more expensive because they were not available locally.  / N. Heron etching on front door  / O. Restroom doors with human silhouettes made from images of local wildlife / P. Stainless steel sink with canal to reduce spillage ($15,000) / Q. Taller restroom-stall doors that match the height of the mirror to improve overall feng shui / R. Unnecessary miniature second patio / S. Free reading material for the public

WWeek 2015