When Sacred Heart Cathedral (at the corner of Iowa and 10th streets in Davenport) was completed in 1891, its bell tower and spire was the tallest structure in the Quad Cities. Soaring majestically above the surrounding trees and neighborhood, its approximate height of 160 feet seemed even greater because of its placement at the top of a steep hill near the crest of the bluff overlooking the Mississippi.

Several blocks to the west, Trinity Episcopal Cathedral (at 121 West 12th Street) had been constructed 18 years before. Although a spire was part of architect's original plans, it was not built because of a lack of funds.

But in 1998, Elizabeth Haines (a member of the Trinity congregation) personally financed the building of a bell tower and spire. In memory of her grandparents - who were charter members of the cathedral - the 131-foot tower was built to its original specifications.

More than a century separates the opening dates of the most recent and the oldest public-library buildings in the Quad Cities. The differences between these buildings reflect our changing relationship to the environment, and their architecture reflects the evolution of the library from a symbol of culture to a community center.

Davenport's Eastern Avenue branch library (at 6000 Eastern Avenue) opened a year ago on July 10. The horizontal shape of the building and curved entrance relate to its surrounding environment, an open, grassy area of gentle rolling hills. The library has been designated by the U.S. Green Building Council as a Leadership in Energy & Environmental Design (LEED) building. Its environmental features include a geothermal-heating and -cooling system, stormwater-management systems for the roof and parking areas, and energy-efficient lighting. Even the building materials were selected to ensure a healthy environment for the library staff and patrons.

At the library's entrance is a wall covered in sheets of bronze. The prominent position of the wall and its subtle patterning make it seem more like a minimalist sculpture than the means to drain water from the roof into the rain basin and bioswale. The bronze wall is set within a rain garden - planted with native plants and grasses, helping the water soak into the ground instead of running into the storm sewers. The ecologically conscious approach to the design of this building is remarkably different from the neoclassical design of libraries in the early 20th Century.

The Rock Island Main Library (at 401 19th Street in the Rock Island) opened on December 15, 1903. The building became the permanent home for a library collection that was established in 1855 and made public in 1872, making it the oldest public library in the state of Illinois. Funded primarily by Rock Island businessmen Frederick Weyerhaeuser and Frederick Denkmann, the building opened shortly before the Carnegie libraries in Davenport and Moline.

Originally called Rock Island's Temple of Literature, the building's fluted Ionic columns, exterior of quarried stone, and classical-styled ornamentation are indeed derived from ancient Greek and Roman temples. The dozen names incised in the frieze near the roof - from the Greek poet Homer to the American writer Nathaniel Hawthorne - say, in effect, that there is an unbroken link between us and the founders of Western Civilization.

One enters the main section of the building by ascending a flight of stone steps and passing through an imposing foyer. We literally rise higher when we come into this archive of knowledge. Though one is now greeted by collections of digital information - DVDs, CDs, and audiobooks - the interior architecture is formal, creating a very different atmosphere from the more welcoming and comfortable space of the newer libraries.

The Rock Island Main Library has had public meeting rooms and a children's collection of books - even an art gallery - from its inception. Yet this is a far cry from the community centers that libraries have evolved into. More than just lenders of books, libraries now provide Internet access and community rooms for a great range of not-for-profit organizations - from the Girl Scouts to senior groups, from choirs to quilters. When you are next looking for an a pleasant coffee shop, consider going to the library.

But are buildings art?

Frank Lloyd Wright, perhaps America's most renowned architect, certainly thought so when he stated, "The mother art is architecture."

Contemporary architect Richard Meier expanded on this by saying: "Architecture is the greatest of the arts, and it encompasses thinking that other arts don't even deal with. Like [the] relationship of the work to the individual human being - the person who uses it, the person who experiences it, the person who sees it, and how that person perceives that space."

Bruce Walters is a professor of art at Western Illinois University.

This is part of an occasional series on the history of public art in the Quad Cities. If there's a piece of public art that you'd like to learn more about, e-mail the location and a brief description to BD-Walters@wiu.edu.

A 22-foot-high, brightly painted yellow-orange aluminum sculpture was installed at 100 17th Street in Rock Island in 1982. Placed near the entrance of the First National Bank of the Quad Cities, it was created to invite the viewer to join the celebration of the bank's 130th anniversary. The sculpture was titled, appropriately, Invitation.

Though the building is now the Modern Woodmen Bank building, Invitation stands in the same location. Its intense and pure color suggests a brightly colored flower, and the sculpture seems to bloom from its relatively small, rectangular base - almost like a rapidly growing plant in a vase that has become too small.

The uniform color, on the other hand, suggests industrial fluorescent yellow. Though the sculpture's shapes are fluid, even elegant, they are formed from hard-edged, seamless sheets of metal. The sculpture's dynamic arcs seem to describe enormous paths of flight - more akin to a jet fighter than a bird.

Passages is a grouping of four rectangular columns prominently placed between the Family Museum and the Bettendorf Public Library on Learning Campus Drive. The column closest to the library lies flat on the ground. In sequence, the other three stand angled at 45 degrees, 67 degrees, and finally fully vertical. The effect of these 18-foot-tall, stainless-steel columns rising in a stop-motion progression is impressive.

Yet what ultimately catches one's attention is the brightly painted sphere perched precariously at the top of the standing column. An area the size of the sphere has been scooped out of the other columns. These smooth inverse curves are painted in the same bright colors as the sphere - yellow, red, and green - and visually soften the angular metal impact of the sculptural group. They feel like a finger's indent in a stick of butter. The positioning of these indents creates an illusion of an upward trajectory or path that the sphere has taken.