The Cathedral of Learning, designed by Charles Z. Klauder, is the second-tallest Gothic building in the world (after the Woolworth Building in New York), and by far the most successful adaptation of Gothic style to the skyscraper. Like many of the most memorable feats of architecture in Pittsburgh, it confidently approaches the boundary between genius and madness without ever stepping all the way over that line. The Commons Room, a Perpendicular-style fantasy in stone, is one of the most impressive spaces in a city full of impressive spaces.

The Turkish room, just completed in 2012, has a panoramic view of Istanbul (not Constantinople). Old Pa Pitt is much taken with the clever arrangement of fold-down desks.

In the rear of the classroom, a copy of “The Two Kings” by Mikalojus Konstantinas Čiurlionis, in which the titular kings stumble on a tiny Lithuanian village radiating Lithuanian culture to the world.

The German classroom is full of dark carved woodwork, and scenes from famous German fairy tales are depicted in the stained glass. Below: Little Red Riding Hood.

“Guten tag, Rotkäppchen, wo hinaus so früh?” (“Well, hello there, Little Red Riding Hood! Where are you going so early?”)

This is the sort of room in which one feels one ought to be negotiating a treaty. Modeled after the Haydnsall in the Esterházy palace in Eisenstadt, it includes copies of three of the famous ceiling murals by  Tencalla, which depict the wedding of Cupid and Psyche. (The copies were done by the Pittsburgh artist Celeste Parrendo.)

A gilt dragon on the ceiling looks down on the Chinese classroom in a possessive way. Dragons are supposed to bring good luck, but this one looks as though he plans to make quite sure you are worthy first.

It is not necessary to tell a Pittsburgher what the Nationality Rooms are, but for the benefit of visitors from foreign parts we explain that they are a set of classrooms in the Cathedral of Learning (which itself is such a wonderful absurdity that it requires some explanation, but not here) decorated in the styles of Pittsburgh’s various immigrant groups. Each is a unique work of art, and none more elaborate than the tiny Syria-Lebanon Room, the only one of the lot not usually open to the public.