These buildings bring a touch of classical Roman design to the Twin Cities

It's a good year for Roman Empire buffs. "Gladiator 2″ will be released in November, and the Peacock network is currently streaming "Those About to Die," another gladiator tale. Sweaty hacking in great stone amphitheaters. We can't get enough of Rome, it seems. Why?

Partly because we see echoes of their civilization in ours, of course. But also because we have all grown up with the architecture of the bygone civilization, which makes it seem pertinent and familiar.

You don't have to look far to find Roman-inspired buildings around the state. Here are just a few:

The State Capitol (1905)

The seat of government in St. Paul isn't particularly unique. It's well done, of course. Cass Gilbert, the architect, was a gifted man. But the design is basic American law-making factory. A wing for the House, a wing for the Senate, a dome overhead to join the two, gather our public aspirations, and point them to heaven. Like many other state houses, it's a Mini-Me to the U. S. Capitol. Despite its very Roman columns and pediments, arches and dome, it wasn't a copy of a Roman building, but was filtered through the 19th-century Beaux Arts style.

The Minneapolis Post Office (1915)

Also known as the Old Federal Building (212 3rd Av. S.), it boasts a Roman favorite, Corinthian style columns, with decorative carvings at the top of the fluted columns.

Northrop Mall, University of Minnesota

Its stately row of classical buildings — Walter Library, Morrill Hall, Fraser and the rest — culminate in powerful facade of Northrop auditorium. Perhaps it's what the Roman Forum might have looked like if it was planned all at once, instead of built piecemeal.

Memorial Stadium (1926-1981)

The University of Minnesota's former stadium echoed the look of Circus Maximus, the ancient Roman chariot-racing stadium. When it was demolished, its classical style was considered passe. But its replacement, the Huntington Bank Stadium, echoes its predecessors with its row of arches along the ground floor. It's our Colosseum.

The Voya Financial building (1965)

The building, formerly known as the Northwestern National Life Insurance building, is modern, stripped down, and doesn't look Roman — at least not at first glance. But its soul is classical. With its balance, columns, entablatures (the things that sit on top of the columns, if you want to get technical), Voya Financial (20 Washington Av. S.) is essentially a rewrite of a Roman Temple in Nimes, France, completed in A.D. 7.

Any style that survives for 1,963 years has something enduring. But what's the attraction?

Classical architecture is appealing because of its aesthetics, its rational sense of order, its humanistic scale. It might be monumental, but the windows and doors are human-scaled. It also strikes a chord in our sense of civilization. Classical forms remind us of our connection to the mighty Roman civilization, its drama and its power, both good and bad.

Those connections are so potent that a classical building doesn't need to be massive to get the point across.

Small towns and cities throughout the state don't abound with Roman-styler commercial buildings. The style — complete with columns and pediments — is reserved for banks, courthouses and other civic buildings, often modest structures that still project strength and resilience.

That's why a Caesar could pay a visit to, say, Pipestone, see the County Courthouse and the 1898 First National Bank, and think "We got this far, did we?"

The Rome Empire is gone, but through its architectural language, it's still speaking to us.