By JIM STACEY

So there I was checking my psychic e-mail last week when a short note arrived from Goethe. Yeah, THAT Goethe; the guy's a real blabbermouth when you get him going, but this time he was deliberately curt to make his point. We'd been talking about architecture and I had remarked that I was well aware of how thrilled, or how depressed, I could become when looking at structures, but I didn't understand why there was so much impact. Then, in that condescending tone that only a dead German can muster, he had written, "It's obvious, mein Herr. You simply are not aware that architecture is ... how shall I say it ... FROZEN music."

Frozen music, huh? I wish I'd said that. And I wish I could get him to accompany me when I lead one of my tours in the neighborhoods near the University of Washington. What would he say about the Meany Hotel at the corner of Brooklyn and 45th where we usually start the walk? Here we have a recently refurbished building that when it was dedicated in 1931 it was rightfully considered a superb example of Art Deco, complete with dozens of "identifiers" of that style, such as the zigzag chevrons which are found in abundance, even in the bars on the entrance doors. Musically, would this be Stravinsky? Concerto for strings in D? No melody, but endless primeval excitement? Fast notes and sharp angles. I could feel myself challenged to make the comparisons, especially since I had lost some of my hearing from driving nails and had let the music collection collect dust. What are these new things? CDs? How would I ever explain those to Goethe?

And then if the Meany Hotel could be compared in various ways to modern classical music, what parallels could we draw to the much newer Key Bank building across the street? New Age? Not much form. Strictly function. Background music? No outstanding features. Look at that blank brick wall. Someone had made a point of making sure that each and every brick was the same exact color, unlike the fine old apartment building adjoining it on the north. The bricks not only presented a mixture of color, but they had also been applied in patterns that created texture. If this building were like a song of the '20s, I knew it would have a melody that we could whistle. Unlike so many modern songs and buildings, it would not be something we would forget as soon as we passed. Why does Yanni come to mind?

We walk 200 feet north on Brooklyn to 46th and see a church. An ornate church. Yep, perhaps this is what an organ recital or Gregorian chant would look like if we could capture them as stone images. Spires and soaring sounds. And what a contrast to the First Security Bank building just around the corner. Stark. What is it about modern bank buildings? When the supporting concrete columns were poured, using "Sono Tubes" as the forms, the cardboard tubes were simply unpeeled once the concrete was set, leaving a spiral mark in the concrete to remind us that not one extra dollar of the customers of that bank had been spent on anything extravagant. The closest we could come to music here might be the honking of horns by impatient drivers at students who were trying to homestead the crosswalk. Even elevator music seemed preferable.

I haven't gotten back to Goethe about this idea of his yet ... frozen music. I'd have to ask him if it meant that the deaf couldn't possibly have any appreciation of architecture? It'd be nice to stump him into silence for a change. But I do appreciate his idea, whether I'm leading an architectural tour or just strolling by myself. It forces me to consider the connection between the buildings we occupy and the products that evolve from them, and how we in turn evolve. I'll have to take that up next week in psychic e-mail with Churchill. He might have something clever to add. In fact, knowing him, he's probably already said something profound about that idea. Something like, "First we shape our buildings, and then they shape us." Wonder if he'd like to go along on the next walk?

Jim Stacey is a residential real estate consultant, former contractor and the author of "Seattle Homes: Real Estate Around the Sound." For information on his classes on real estate or architecture, contact the UW Experimental College for a catalog: 206-543-4375. To contact Goethe or Churchill, good luck.