Where Jonesboro's gentler contours allowed the estate's horizontal planes to drift outward in unhurried repose, the spirit of Joplin introduces a sharper muscularity to the composition—the cantilevered steel beams and board-formed concrete walls along the western gallery seem to brace against an imagined escarpment, lending the corridor a taut, almost geological authority. The transition is felt in the weight of the materials themselves, limestone giving way to raw concrete as one moves deeper into the central volume, yet the floor-to-ceiling glazing remains constant, that unbroken dialogue between interior warmth and the wooded bluff beyond the Ohio River. Here the open plan compresses subtly, channeling movement through a narrower axis that heightens anticipation, each step drawing you toward the double-height atrium ahead where Kalamazoo's cooler spatial logic already begins to assert itself in the restrained palette and the deliberate stillness of the light.