May 3, 2008

CWE Mid-Century Modern: Lindell Boulevard

Lindell Boulevard in the Central West End
St. Louis City, MO
The Central West End is a beloved historical part of town. Residents have worked very hard for almost 40 years to revive what had fallen on hard times and preserve the historic architecture and density that gives the CWE its distinct flavor. It was once a city district on the losing end of White Flight and families and businesses motoring out to the deep suburbs.

After World War 2, the bounty of Civic Progress created Urban Renewal, which meant tearing down all the old, ugly Victorian buildings to make clean, modern buildings that mirrored America's eager brave face of the future. They were a well-meaning group of WW2- heroic City Fathers with blinkered sight, and it required the generations after them to call a halt to such frenzied destruction of America's urban centers .

In St. Louis "they" caused great harm to the meat of downtown, and the CWE felt the sweeping hand of progress, too. Along the main thoroughfare of Lindell Boulevard, many ugly old Gilded Age residences were torn down to build clean new buildings with modern lines and fancifully optimistic faces. It was a period of random death and acute growing pains. Time heals, and these replacement buildings have become an accepted part of the CWE fabric. History repeats, and one of these replacement buildings is poised to kick off another misguided demolition spree. 55 years is too long a period for people to remember what history teaches us.

EAST OF N. VANDEVENTER
3765 Lindell, Triple Links Bldg.
We start our tour of Lindell's Mid-Century Modern (a.k.a replacement) buildings a bit west of St. Louis University because its currently a problematic topic when it comes to demolishing the past for its own future. In the early 1950s, they made the bold move to design and build the most sophisticated of modern libraries on their campus, which most likely inspired all subsequent activity heading west. Tragically, it comes as no surprise that they now hope to strip the Pius XII Library of its MCM elegance because MCM is the New Victorian (i.e., ugly and dirty and it must be purged).

So we skip the ever-controversial SLU, and start with the building, above, that was originally built in 1914, and that the International Order of Odd Fellows has been in since 1921. In 1964 they slapped on the facade you see today, and they were so jazzed by this modern update that they threw a party on July 19, 1964 to celebrate it.

There are quite a few Lindell examples of giving a new face to an old building, which in today's parlance would be considered very green of them. Actually, the greenest building is the one already built, so rather than chase down LEEDs for sexy new buildings, remodels of existing buildings - even the replacement buildings - is far smarter, hipper and earth-friendly.

3800 Lindell
Across the street from Triple Links was originally the grand private home of James Brock. In 1960, his house was demolished to build the above headquarters for International Business Machines. Today, it houses SLU offices. It was a mid-century replacement building that has survived 48 years of adaptive re-use. A thorough scrubbing of its concrete filigree curtain wall would let its original corporate cool radiate prosperity once again.

3860 Lindell
This building opened in 1945, so it was being built during WW2, which makes it a rare bird for the time period. It is the poster child for masculine, institutional art deco. The soaring entry reeks of Gotham City even before spying the man with lightning bolts carved above the door. This is a building that Clark Kent would run out of to find a phone booth. The city cleared out Toodle House Restaurant (with a private residence above) so the railroad and telegraph unions could have this building. It currently houses St. Louis Job Corps.

FROM N. VANDEVENTER to N. SARAH
3912 Lindell
This is an interesting block of Lindell, as it's a balanced mix of giving old buildings new fronts and tearing down old buildings for new buildings that would swing. Above is a building that was a private residence built in 1897, but after a 1960 remodel became the home for Equitable Life Insurance. They had the good fortune of being in the right place at the right time when, just next door they built...

3914 Lindell - the former Playboy Club
The grand old home of Ellen Huctson was cleared so the Playboy Club could open their 4th club on October 16, 1962. Hugh Hefner opened his first club in Chicago in 1960, and the distinct design flavor - corporate pimp casual Friday's - carried into this building as well. Hef is, easily, the first truly modern 20th century man, and the modern man was all about the car. So the new Playboy building added a driveway to drop one in front of the dramatically lit outside terrace before the valet whisked your car into the Playboy garage.

Fischer & Frichtel were the general contractors, and Pittsburgh Plate Glass did the windows. I know this because my father, Richard Weiss, was the glazing foreman on the job, and he - along with all the sub-contractors - were invited to the grand opening of "this beautiful building. It was truly something."

By the late 70s, the Playboy Club moved out to the Viking Hotel at Lindbergh & Watson Roads, and this building remained vacant until Kearbey's nightclub opened in the late 1990s, altering very little of the long-shuttered building. And then the building sat dead again until the City Grille and Brewhaus gave it a go. One patron was kind enough to get plenty of pictures of what remained in tact from the Bunny Years before City Grille abruptly folded. Today, the building is in horrible visual shape. The City Grille was too feisty with coats of paint, both inside and out. A front window is smashed in, and it doesn't look like there's anything Bunny Fabulous left to pry off the walls as a memento of when the CWE was swanky. There does remain a few pieces of the past they've yet to destroy...

Marble tiles stamped with the eternally-cool Playboy logo still lead the eye to the patio and the view across the street of a building that went up to bolster the fading swinger's self-esteem.

3917 Lindell - Automobile Club of Missouri
One of two round white buildings on Lindell, it looks like the curvy female answer to the boys-will-be-boys clubhouse across the street. But this building was erected in 1977! As early as 1942 the Automobile Club was listed in this same spot, and they certainly waited a long time to join in the CWE urban renewal.

Maybe the delay was so that they could get exactly the perfect building. It's a truly iconic piece on Lindell - everyone knows and admires this building, and Triple A takes exceptional care of it. They must stock pile drums of white paint for constant touch ups in between new coats. A view through the endless ribbon of windows reveal many original fixtures still in place, and the whole thing has a distinct 1960s Jetsons feel. Were the original plans drawn up in the 60s and they sat on them for a bit, or did they purposely try to evoke a by-gone era, even though it wasn't all that by-gone? Again, it feels like a sly wink to the club across the street.

3926 Lindell
Built in 1909, it was listed as a private residence of Sara Wesnick in 1942. By 1960 it had become commercial, housing multiple small business at once until it went vacant in 1973. The International Society of Krishna Consciousness have been here since 1980. The new facade is so geometrically simple and graceful that I want to pinpoint it as late 1940s. Does anyone have an accurate read on the remodel?

3940 Lindell
And here's another old building that got a new face to blend in with all the forward-thinking architectural antics on the block. It was originally a home built in 1899. By 1960, owner Jane Horan had moved on, and after a remodel it became an office building big enough to house 3 companies. It's becoming clear that so many of these grand palaces were going to seed with all these old widows rattling around in them. Large chunks of grand CWE homes on the private streets were subdivided and degraded as boarding houses during the 1960s and 1970s, which is why the loyal rehabbing of most of them back into single-family luxury is so awe-inspiring.

But Lindell, a main artery in the city, appears to have always been half commercial, half residential. So as old mansions drooped under lack of care, and with most people still not attuned to saving their (then) recent past, it was a cake walk to buy up the brick and stone bags of bones, pummel them down and build anew atop the spot. Remember that it wasn't until 1968 that Jackie Kennedy Onassis spoke out against the horrendous thought of demolishing Grand Central Terminal, helping to save and restore it. It took a pissed off Jackie O. (who'd already rehabbed the White House during her brief tenure) to change the thinking patterns of a generation fixated on westward expansion, asking them to look back on where they came from:

"Is it not cruel to let our city die by degrees, stripped of all her proud monuments, until there will be nothing left of all her history and beauty to inspire our children? If they are not inspired by the past of our city, where will they find the strength to fight for her future? Americans care about their past, but for short term gain they ignore it and tear down everything that matters. Maybe… this is the time to take a stand, to reverse the tide, so that we won't all end up in a uniform world of steel and glass boxes."

Jackie O. took a stand against replacement buildings pretty much like this...

3960 Lindell
The Ira Goodpasture residence was cleared away for this office building to go up in 1955. Maybe Ira's place was a bigger version of the building to the left in the above picture. Maybe Jackie would have hated that this new version of suburban corporate modern planting itself in an old urban neighborhood. Judging by build dates for the rest of Lindell's MCM stock, this brand new building was quite the pioneer; it had to look positively alien at the time. A building like that was common in the new car-centric business districts of Jennings or Affton, but just a whole lot too stark for the people waiting to catch a street car. The building has held up very well, and is now a regal example of how tastes change over time.


4020 Lindell - The Continental
Built in 1965, it certainly does look like a place Christopher Walken's character would live. It feels like it turned seedy about 10 minutes after opening day, and always makes me feel like I want to give it a bath. A row of houses originally stood on the spot that is now this place and the McDonald's next door to the east, with most of them listed as vacant by 1960. Every time I turn a camera on the place, everyone in the parking lot and lobby gets visibly freaked out, which makes me love this sordid little building even more.

FROM N. SARAH to N. BOYLE
4100 Lindell
It looks like a Southern California motor hotel, but was built in 1957 for the Remington Rand Division of Sperry Rand, which has the ultimate The Organization Man ring to it. City directories are very vague about what was originally in this spot; almost as if the spot didn't exist. It now houses the St. Louis Housing Authority.

4108 Lindell
Built in 1948, this low slung building is a great example of commercial architecture that bridged the realms between art deco and International style. I call it Deco Moderate, a popular commercial style in that time right after WW2 when the country took stock of how to accommodate the population explosion. Deco Moderate is both modern and quaint at the same time, hedging its bets and successfully fitting into whatever goes on around it. By 1960, the St. Louis Society for Crippled Children moved in, and they kept that name (and the building) well into the 1980s. We may be able to pinpoint the exact moment political correctness took hold in St. Louis when they changed the name to The Saint Louis Society for Children and Adults With Physical Disabilities in 1993 and moved to Olivette, MO. The building is currently vacant.

4236 Lindell
Lucy Heine's house came down so the Lindell Building could go up in 1958. This building is classically handsome in a corporate International way, like a miniature of the insurance building C.C. Baxter worked in. In 1980, the Hickey Mitchell Insurance company had a floor, so there you go.

It exudes grey flannel offset with a subtle pastel blue tie. Each office surely had a hat rack and bottle of V.O. tucked into the bottom desk drawer. Every material, texture and proportion is carefully weighed for how it shall convey sophistication. The only thing that mars its mid-century cool whisper is the For Lease sign that eternally rests on its front lawn.

N. BOYLE to N. NEWSTEAD
4331 Lindell
The south side of this block is mostly the stately, vine-covered apartments, preserving the history of upwardly mobile in flux to the area in the teens and 1920s. Across the street, the modern building above quietly nestled in. Built in 1935, listed as the residence of Robert McClaran in 1942 and the new home of Knights of Columbus in 1960, which may be when it got the face lift. The K.C. was part of the distinctly Catholic bent of this immediate area, so it's sweetly ironic that Thrive helps with family planning inside these walls. This building also gains allure by its juxtaposition with the traditional apartment building next door, which is one of the beauties of this stretch of the CWE: history continually flips the pages of its scrapbook via its buildings.

4359 Lindell - The Engineer's Club
Much like the Triple A, the Engineer's Club was always in this spot, and treated themselves to this new building in 1965. Its horizontal, Frank Lloyd Wright-like nature sprawl is really out of character for the area, but that's where the drama is.

The sun dial aspect of the building is always a treat, the campus grounds are always immaculate and the owners of the building are willing to give up some of their parking (behind the building) to the Rosati Kain girls. They are neighborly, aesthetically appealing and loyal to the area, which may be why such an odd suburban addition to a dense urban area now feels just right.

N. NEWSTEAD to N. TAYLOR
4400 Lindell - Towne House Apartments
This is the cherry block for CWE MCM, and now the most controversial. Catholicism is the instigator of the good and the bad of this gorgeous block.

The Cathedral Basilica is the imposing and awesome cornerstone at Lindell & Newstead, which began construction in the spring of 1907. Everything about this block is Catholic because of it, and the apartments directly across the street were even called Cathedral Apartments. Until 1965, when it was torn down to build, above, the Towne House Apartments. How did such a Miami Beach Modern get erected in this spot? Because secular mid-century modern architecture was allowed to retool this block starting in 1961.

4445 Lindell - The Catholic Center
The Archdiocese kicked off the MCM frenzy with this striking space capsule of a building. They blessed the block with this fabulousness in 1961. Its blatant hipsterism is at odds with the seriousness of intent, which is what makes it so special.

My father, again, was the PPG glazing foreman for this building, which he still refers to as "the White Castles central office." He remains fully impressed by the place, reeling off intricate details of its construction...1" glazing of 25X Solex gold anodized glass with anchor bolts 5" off every vertical, imported Italian marble floors that they had to remove shoes before walking on, the very best in aluminum frame doors from West Door... "it was a beautiful building, sophisticated engineering, a real pleasure to work on. They had no budget, so they were spending money like mad. It paid off; it's a beautiful building."
Indeed.

Seeing this building purring up against the Basilica is to cherish the broad sweep of 20th century architecture styles. But they, too, had to knock down some buildings to create this striking panorama. The residence of Alice Wahl came down to build the Chancery's Office.

And they demolished the Sisters of St. Joseph convent in 1960 in order to build its next door neighbor to the west...

4483 Lindell - San Luis Apartments
This complex opened as the Deville Motor Court in 1963, and the Archdiocese wants to demolish it to make a surface parking lot for the Rosati-Kain girls. Even though it has plenty of built-in parking (that was the original point of the place), and even though its simple to reconvert it back to a hotel, and even though it fits right in (and kinda dominates) the majority of this MCM block, the church wants it gone. They own it, so have every right to do as they please. So why is everyone so upset?

Local historical preservationists have weighed in.
The local press is weighing in.
Residents of the area weighed in with letters to the editor and their own websites.
Even the National Trust for Historic Preservation has weighed in!
Each voice makes brilliant points, but really, why do they care about this place?

In a nutshell, we are tired of the imperious disregard for the environments we live in and love.

So far, this Lindell tour has shown how they picked away at the original fabric of the CWE to revive what was dying an unnecessary death. Old buildings that they felt had outlived their usefulness and beauty were demolished or renovated to reflect then-current standards and aspirations. Time and progress marches on, and it's never a flawless process; there were plenty of disgruntled folks at that time. Time heals, and these same older residents now accept the replacement buildings on their own terms.

But the key point is that old buildings were replaced. They wanted new buildings to keep the density that creates vitality that creates cash and tax dollars. In the case of the Deville Motor Court/Holiday Inn Midtown/San Luis Apartments, the Archdiocese wants to tear down their building to make a blank spot. They plan to nicely landscape it, maybe offer up a little park for the people (who don't want to bother with Forest Park right down the street), but it's still a proposal for a void!

My father - yet again - was the glazing foreman for the Deville. H.B. Dale (which today is now H.B.D.) was the general contractor in a hurry to erect the building. My father remembers it as a horrible job, a 6-8 man union crew working overtime until 7 or 8 each night in frigid temperatures to install glass from the outside. He says it "was built on the cheap," and while he liked the look of the cement board aggregate (above) because "it was something brand new and I always liked a contemporary building," it was still cheap, and he's surprised that it has held up so well over the years.

So maybe the Archdiocese is being honest when they say the building is expensive to maintain and draining their budget. First, a suggestion: turning off the lights that blaze 24 hours inside the vacant building would cut down on the electricity bill. Second, the maintenance bill gets high when a building is allowed to rot because the owners had a future plan to demolish it.

Word is that the Archdiocese did bring in a firm to assess the building and the cost to rehab it. The numbers given did not reflect the historic state and federal tax credits the building would be eligible for because they have not given thought to any process that would give the building new life. The church is apparently not motivated by revenue that would be generated by any reuse of the building on their property. They can - and will - do as they wish.

The prospect of this building coming down is sad because of the potential it possesses, and frightening because of the message it conveys. It would be a waste of resources during a time when America is going green in an attempt to save the environment. It would be an unwelcome void in the CWE fabric. It could be the signal for other property owners to devalue their replacement buildings, and start up another round of "urban renewal. " And it's this very concept that finally has the National Trust stepping up to acknowledge the merit of Mid-Century Modern architecture. They finally made the bold step of cranking up preservation by several decades to say "Yes to Yesterday." Whew! Glad you could make it, and welcome.

4482 Lindell - The Jackson Arms Apartments
We stand in the parking lot of the San Luis and look across the street to a tower that appears to be a photographic negative image of the central Deville tower.

Built in 1965, this place is fabulous, whimsical and cool, all in the same breath. It is the aesthetic favorite of younger STL generations who immediately get the inherent beauty of vintage MCM design, and recognize a good specimen in the Jackson Arms.

There is much that I love about the details of this building, and I especially love how it looks up against the turn-of-century house next door. The private residence taken down for the Jackson probably looked much like it. The co-mingling of the distant past and the recent past of St. Louis is the flavor of the CWE. Contrast is what makes every one of these buildings pop out and declare their value, and it's a special treat to have a 120+ years architectural time capsule working for us every day.

4494 Lindell - Optimists International
Also across the street from San Luis is my absolutely favorite CWE MCM building. From materials, to proportion, to the quiet elegance it exudes, everything about it is exquisite. Rob Powers coined the term Onassis Modern to describe a certain type of 1960s architecture, and the first time he said it, I pictured Jackie Kennedy standing in the lobby of Optimists International when it opened in 1961.

As I'm not the only one, I'm not ashamed to say that I assumed Optimist International was a society for positive thinkers. Which just added to the classiness of the building. But even when I finally learned that "optimist" is actually for optometrists it didn't mar my deep admiration for this little jewel of modern architecture.

N. TAYLOR to N. EUCLID
4501 Lindell - Lindell Terrace Apartments
The Deville Motor Court's next door neighbor across N. Taylor is the stately and spare Lindell Terrace Apartments. A private residence was demolished to erect this. One of the reasons my father felt the Deville construction was so cheap is that he watched them build this place at the same time the Deville was going up. They used more traditional and substantial materials, so they must have had a bigger budget.

This high rise does a wonderful job of bridging the gap between classic and modern, which is why it blends nicely with the traditional apartment buildings directly to its west. And with many of the MCM replacement buildings on Lindell, planners seemed to thoughtfully consider the nature of the district and tried to make the insertion of the new as seamless as possible.

There's no denying that this rush of redevelopment helped the CWE, so developers were allowed to go crazy. Sometimes they were too radical (I'm thinking of the large retail plaza between Vandeventer & Sarah), foisting deeply suburban layouts on a cosmopolitan urban neighborhood. But people use it, and it does contribute to the crazy energy of the area, as well as the tax base. The CWE historical ordinances enacted in 1979 have made sure that subsequent developments don't get out of hand architecturally, and that the oldest building stock is rightfully protected. I admire the 50-year balancing act this part of town has juggled with, and hope they rightfully include the newer models in their protective embrace.

4545 Lindell
Now here's an exciting brand spanking new addition to the street scape: 4545. I think it's a superb specimen of 21st century modern architecture, and it gets a huge assist from being slotted between two classic CWE apartment buildings. The juxtaposition creates an energetic sexual tension on the street, with the youngster demurely taking a back seat to the older opulence of its neighbors without sacrificing any style.

This lot was once a residential building that kept flip-flopping from private residence to business from the 1940s - 1970s. By the 1980s it became a vacant lot. When plans for the lot were unveiled, there was scant negative reaction, and when construction began in 2005, excitement was rampant. Residents and potential buyers were welcoming a high-style, ultra-sleek modern addition to the street scape, which further highlights how sophisticated this part of town and its people are, and always have been. Instinctively, the CWE gets that history is a continual conversation, and the more voices chatting the more vibrant a cocktail party it becomes.

4625 Lindell
I truly never paid any attention to this building. It's brutalist tendencies were somehow ignorable, even though it was a rhino among giraffes. But once the 4545 went up, this bank building suddenly had contemporary context. Also note that the stacking of the 4545 subtly apes the stacking of the bank. Intentional or coincidence? The original building on the lot was a private residence that turned into a bible church in the 1960s. City Bank built the new building in 1971, but also shared the space with Miss Vanderschmidt's Secretarial School. Oh, how I love that name, which she held onto until 1980. Bless her un-PC heart!

4630 Lindell
A few private residences were taken down so the Bel Air Motel could go up in 1957. The above photo was taken in August of 2006, and even with the atrocious mauve paint job, it still hummed a jazzy tune while sipping umbrella-festooned cocktails. Those drinks would have been at Henrici's Restaurant, which shared the space for decades. Check out postcard shots of the place in its heyday, and join the convo about what's to become of the place.

The building now has new windows, a fresh coat of white paint and crews working on Saturdays, so it really is coming back to life. That entirely inappropriate portico needs to go, but from this illustration it seems they won't design something more in keeping with the building's Meis-Lite aesthetic. But I'm not complaining, because if any building on Lindell was vulnerable for the tear down, it was this one.

Some reports say the Roberts Brothers want to build a tower atop the rear of the building, ostensibly for more hotel rooms. But they are adamant about bringing cool, retro boutique hotel style to the CWE, which is sure bet when it comes to typical clientèle in the area. If they had their eye on a project like this in this area, do you think they checked in with the Archdiocese about the San Luis? Wouldn't that building give them more of everything they're aiming for, retro hotel-wise? The Roberts are plugged in, savvy and fearless, so it's not far-fetched to imagine them inquiring as to what the church planned to do with the building after moving out the Cardinal Ritter senior citizens. This is purely circumstantial conjecture on my part, and luckily a similar vintage building, the next block up, came into view. But the facts do highlight that these commercial MCM buildings are desirable to a new breed of developers who smell money coming from the younger generations who revere this architectural genre. Even in St. Louis.

Will the bird sculpture remain atop the underground parking garage? It's an apt symbol of modern phoenixes rising from the ashes of ancient ruins, which is a spirited part of Central West End history.

April 28, 2008

Old School Fast Food Disappears on Lindell

Lindell Boulevard in Central West End
St. Louis City, MO
Where did this sign go to? Did it survive? If so, does anyone know where it is?

Here was Arby's on August 19, 2006. The old style neon sign remained in place even after a harrowing storm that caused damage in the immediate area. But I guess it's days were numbered...

Those 2 signs made a nice old school fast food tableau. Across the street (still) stands the 1970s-issue counting McDonald's sign, now forever parked at 99 billion. So it's momentarily safe. But the Wendy's became a Jack in the Box...

...and the Arby's became a brand new building with a boring-ass sign. Where's imagination gone to? And where did the formerly fabulous sign go to? I do hope it's resting peacefully with all the potato cakes it could ever possibly wish for.

April 21, 2008

River Des Peres Living Room

River Des Peres, South St. Louis, MO
Driving to work, hung over, on a Monday morning when what do I see? Or did I? All cars in both directions hitting the brakes confirmed it was all true, and all fabulous.

On a flat out-cropping of rocks - the River Des Pew amphitheater - is a console TV and a burgundy recliner, the kind of items that get ejected from a basement rumpus room. So dusty and nondescript that they should blend into the background of a spot we whiz by without barely noticing. Yet, we spotted it immediately and smiled. Every phone call asking "Did you see it?" and every South Side conversation about it was full of laughter, awe and approval.

Something so simple can make us so happy. But it's not a simple matter to get those items to that spot. The area is isolated from the apartment complex and neighborhood behind it. There's no direct access by car other than to run up over the curb to the rocks and hope you can get back out. To carry these bulky and heavy items on foot would require leaving the bike/walk path above and climbing down the rocks. Much like Stonehenge, how did they do it, why did they do it, and what does it mean?

Sure hope the Parks Department lets this public art project stay in place, because it creates such joy. It will be interesting to see if it gets added to... an end table and floor lamp would nicely complete the tableau. Then again, I saw people stop their cars in the middle of the South Side Autobahn to take a picture, with brakes squealing all around them, like all good safety hazards do. So do drive by as soon as you can to enjoy the River Des Peres Living Room.

April 17, 2008

Idaho Mondrian

This slapdash South Side renovation at Idaho & Holly Hills overlooks Interstate 55. It also looks a bit like Piet Mondrian's 1918 painting, "Composition with Color Planes and Gray Lines 1."

April 7, 2008

How To Name A New Subdivision

There was a piece in the April 4th business section of the St. Louis Post-Dispatch about Musick Construction building a mixed-use development near the North Hanley MetroLink station. They were smart enough to start buying up small, post-WW2 houses as they went up for sale (pretty cheap since it’s an inner-ring neighborhood), and have almost enough for a large parcel of land to build anew.

During the next 10-15 years, the people fed up with paying more for a tank of gas than for a week’s worth of groceries are going to slowly migrate back east, retracing the old White Flight trail. So be smart, buy up now, and try to preserve the small bungalows, because as natural gas and electricity prices spiral up, the financial logic of less square footage will kick in, as well.

The name of this proposed development caught my attention: Haverford Square. They opted for the British name, which is common.

Buying a house is, for many of us, the single largest investment we make, and developers know this, so the subdivision’s name is a crucial marketing element in making people feel good about their decision to invest in this particular tract. It’s an important decision on the developer’s part, which is why there are some rules for naming new developments.*

The name can eulogize the natural element plowed over (a field, a brook, a grove). It can highlight the new natural element that replaced the original one plowed over because it was inconveniently placed . Or it can be named after the upgrade from natural element to man-made element (leveling trees to make a shadeless lake). If this level of creativity is taxing, there is a random subdivision name generator that rolls the dice for you!

If destroyed nature is a spiritual bummer, going Anglophile is a good option. We Americans are eternally fascinated with anything U.K., and instinctively believe anything British is classier than anything American. In his book Class: A Guide Through the American Status System, Paul Fussell relates the following:

“The appeal of Anglophilia to America should never be underestimated. I say this on the evidence of a correspondence I once had with a friend of mine, a developer who built whole new towns at once. Having run out of names for his streets, he solicited my help. He asked me to supply him with an alphabetical list of classy – that is, British – street names that would attract the eminently middle-class buyers of his houses. I sent him a list which started like this:
Albemarle
Berkeley

Cavendish
Devonshire
Exeter

Fanshawe, etc.
His house-buyers would be spared the shame of living on McGillicutty Street or Bernstein Boulevard. New terrible jumped-up places like Houston are quick to surround themselves with tract suburbs bearing the most egregious British names, like these (which actually are parts of Houston):
Nottingham Oaks
Inverness Forest
Sherwood Forest

Braes Manor
Meredith Manor.”

Much like choosing a baby name, the right subdivision name is important. The writer of this piece on Haverford Square recognized how important a name is and ended the piece by asking how Musick’s VP Jason Dunaway came up with the name:

“One of our guys saw that on a sign out in the country somewhere. We thought it sounded pretty good.”

Excellent!

*My favorite old (a.k.a. 1960s) subdivision name is Seven Hills, which had hundreds of ranch houses climbing up and down 7 steep (as in had to walk the bicycle up some of them) hills. No pretense, just an honest description of the element they couldn’t afford to level.

March 28, 2008

St. Louis Ballpark Park

Ballpark Village, Downtown St. Louis, MO
St. Louis Post-Dispatch columnist Bill McClellan was the cool-headed voice of logic and reason when he wrote within his March 28th, 2008 piece "Ballpark Village is baseball fantasy":

"Truth is, people have known from Day One that Ballpark Village is a bad idea. That was obvious when the city made the owners of the Cardinals sign a guarantee that they would build the Village — or else there would be financial penalties. That was an ominous sign.

If a business idea is good, you don't need to negotiate guarantees and penalties. Business people act on good ideas. They put their own money into them.

If you have an ocean, you don't need to negotiate with businessmen to make sure they will build on oceanfront property. They just do it. For that matter, if we had a lake — Chouteau's Pond, for instance — entrepreneurs would bid against each other for waterfront property. The city would not have to negotiate guarantees and penalties to make sure that something was built."

To his accurate observation I would like to add Evidence A: "Oh yeah, we'll save Keil Opera House if you give us a new hockey stadium."

In the week's worth of articles over the bust-up of the Centene deal, the worst idea I heard is the suggestion that because they have to do something with that unsightly hole by the time of the All-Star Game in 2009, just pave it up.

What?!
Pour concrete all over it? Oh, that's bloody brilliant.

Please, throw down grass seed, plant some ornamental grasses, bushes and flowers and let it be a GREEN hole as it sits festering. Then when the day comes that some private enterprise completely unrelated to the Cardinals' deal buys the property, they won't have to pay to excavate concrete. Concrete, which adds to the heat in the city, adds to the infills.

Green causes no harm.
Oh, and green is cheaper than concrete, and since we city taxpayers are financing this hole, can we keep the price tag down, please?

Yes, I know that a green area in this part of town is not urban and a bad waste of space. But it's ALREADY a bad waste of space, so can we just let it be attractive and quasi-useful while we wait and wait and wait for nothing to happen?

Up top, I borrowed a photo from Steve Patterson's Urban Review, and doctored it to illustrate my idea. I left an open space for people milling outside the stadium to access. I love the thought of artfully placing some giant plywood partitions in the clearing and sponsoring a kids' painting day. Mayor Slay can pick the theme. And all of this can be done THIS season; imagine how lush and inviting it will look by the time national camera crews arrive in summer 2009.

The institutions responsible for the Ballpark Village mess need to take this lemon and make lemonade, an ice-cold, frosty glass of lemonade we can sip in the lush splendor of Ballpark Park.

March 14, 2008

HOTEL MURANO: A Sleepover Art Museum

Hotel Murano
Tacoma, Washington
If you spend any time in chain hotels you know how it feels: a ticky tacky soul sucking means to an end. A 25-year old Sheraton Hotel in downtown Tacoma was just such a place, a barren post-modern concrete tower filled with the cheapest bulk-quantity interiors on the market in 1984. It is hardly the kind of building one thinks to renovate, but the cost of demolishing it to build anew would be senseless. A group of hotel developers took a giant leap of imagination and requested that beauty happen in the least likely of spaces.

The Provenance Hotel Group returned to the design firm CorsoStaicoff , having worked previously with Denise Corso and James Staicoff on Hotel Max. CorsoStaicoff specializes in transforming eyesores into fully-realized thematic destinations that inspire the aesthetically inclined and caress the luxury addicted.

Starting with the identity of Tacoma as the hometown of glass artist Dale Chihuly, the design firm conceived of an art glass museum one can spend the night in. Curator Tessa Papas identified and cultivated glass artisans from around the globe for inclusion in the hotel renovation, and CorsoStaicoff worked with the selected artists to create the spaces surrounding the permanent gallery installations.

Still lying about in the Portland, Oregon offices of CorsoStaicoff are the prototypes of pieces (shown above) by Orfeo Quagliata. A sample of the wall panels - consisting of individual sheets of glass affixed atop one another - weighs over 30 pounds; entire walls of this would be off the scales. Door handle samples the size of large lipstick tubes don't register as special until...

...they are seen in context, 9 feet tall and abutting the wall panels that become magic waterfalls frozen in motion.

The commissioned pieces are certainly the aesthetic point (as cataloged on the monitor seen above in the entry foyer), but my wonderment came from seeing handcrafted pieces we have to touch, like the door handles, or elevator wall linings.

James Staicoff designed the front desk (above) that houses Quagliata's fused glass panels, and thousands of legs, purses and baggage will bump up against it. This was my flash of enlightenment: the natural strength of something inherently fragile creates luminous, enduring beauty. We are gently directed to interact with glass without worry of fingerprints (though it will surely be the bane of the cleaning staff), pressure points, scratches or cracks.

The taken-for-granted glass tabletop that holds my scotch on the rocks and the clear glass balcony banister I lean over to gaze at...

...the blown-glass mirrored “Chandelier” by Massimo Micheluzzi all now have significant meaning. The entire hotel is a Glass Caste System, with each class of glass crucial for supporting the environment, from structural to functional to artistic.

This realization adds a new-found awe to the vision, skill and craft dedication required to execute a life-sized glass horse lamp or filigreed glass oars above the glass-face fireplace adjacent to the lobby bar. Equally impressive are the precisely-conceived environments that surround both the art and the hotel visitors.

A fine example of design sophistication is the 4th floor restaurant Bite (above). It is both minimalist and sensuous, with open expanses peering down to the floors below or seemingly-private enclaves (like the sofa-lined "necking pit" behind the bar) to choose from. Bite is also the best moment to take in the juxtaposition of the Sheraton's brutal concrete structure softened by the purr of the Murano.

There wasn't much that could be done with the woefully boring exterior of the building, which is why the art glass experience waits to begin at the front door. Ingeniously, this also heightens the Alice Through the Looking Glass sensation of exterior vs. interior. As to the interior, James Staicoff explained that the most honest thing to do was strip away the old skin to expose the concrete structure and then let it recede into the background. But the monolithic masses of grey concrete add a necessary rough texture to offset the smooth waves of glass. Glass shatters when thrown against concrete, but Hotel Murano conjures hidden tension by up-ending that law of textile physics.

Moving up into the guest floors is where the formal art atmosphere begins (outlined above). Stepping out of the elevator is to step into an art museum, as your face against an etched glass wall that serves as that floor's artist statement and biography. To the left of this installation is the art glass piece itself encased, naturally, behind glass. Pick your favorite art museum, and this type of exhibit would be impressive. That it's permanently installed in a hotel corridor is astounding. But there is another aspect that makes this concept groundbreaking: the hall is also a gallery of framed prints showing the steps the artist took to produce the featured art work. Hanging in each guest room is a reproduction of the artist's initial idea sketches. The photos and sketches create a personal investment in the final result; it creates the aura of overhearing intimate studio chat with the artist.

In the shop talk vein, I had the pleasure of touring the upper floors with two people responsible for these storyboard displays. Graphic artist Dardi Troen and her firm ditroen designed all the display panels (plus all the hotel's collateral pieces such as door hangers, logos and room key cards), and her husband Lincoln Miller reproduced and printed all the framed photos lining the hall through Pushdot, his production studio and art gallery.

I adore listening to designer shop talk, so listening to Lincoln and Dardi review the final results of their work was a treat. Noting when something didn't go as planned, adjusting spotlights to shine properly or taking great delight when something exceeded expectations gave invaluable insight into the million details that make up this wondrous hotel.

And it's all in the details, like this phone nook next to the elevators on every floor. This is a Denise Corso touch, evoking both retro humor and feminine curves in otherwise angular hallways.

A strong peeve of mine is that in the press for Hotel Murano - and in most all destination buildings in general - the designers are seldom given their due, much less even mentioned. But it's designers who conceive of concepts, create the items and attend to all the details. They are small and big picture thinkers. With the Murano, there were 25 floors, 319 guest rooms and over a dozen public and semi-private areas to program. It was a 2 year journey of creativity and coordination, so showing CorsoStaicoff a little love would be nice.

The designers got a lotta love on March 8th, the grand opening night capped by a special charity event starring Burt Bacharach (see this link for details on the concert and attendant life-altering experiences). The hotel was filled with $500-a-plate patrons who toured all the floors, and every last one of them reacted with glee and awe. When they personally knew the designers, hugs and congratulations gushed forth. When patrons learned they were near an artist or designer they made a point of sharing admiring words, proving that people do notice and appreciate the details and efforts that go into creating a wonderland.

The public spaces are fabulous, but the entire point of a hotel is an accommodating and comfortable place to stay when traveling. So, how are the guest rooms?
Awesome!

Staicoff explained that the three things guests care about are the bed, the shower and the TV. The beds are the Goldilocks "just right" combo of firm and soft (and if you have pillow preferences, there is a pillow menu to choose from). The thick expanse of white bed clothes shores up against a white vinyl headboard, and standing in relief against a deep grey wall gives the bed a cloud-like countenance.

The showers are spacious with just right water pressure, rapid draining (and if you've ever stood in a hotel shower with water up to your ankles, you get the beauty of that) and endless hot water. The bathrooms are an exercise in minimal luxury, lacking the typical trappings we associate with womb-like bathrooms yet keeping you in the space longer than anticipated because it's perfectly scaled to human mobility and casual serenity.

Or some of the bathrooms have an invigorating vibe, with a warm red-orange that adds a healthy glow to your mirrored reflection (always a plus for anyone over age 40!).

The minimal serenity feel is carried through with brushed stainless and dark Wenge wood floating among the whites and greys. Then come sudden splashes of color on the lounger (above) or lavender hand blown glass lamps on the nightstands. Our room looked like a dwell magazine spread and felt and functioned even better. But not much time was spent in it because...

...there were parties to attend, accolades to be accepted and Burt Bacharach & Hal David! Above is James Staicoff preparing to face the public. Note the Quagliata ring on his finger, and know that an architectural designer is never off duty.

The public and private spaces were dramatic at night and serene in the morning light. A hotel as art glass museum is a uniquely glamorous thing, but my lingering impression is of an embracing softness. I miss Hotel Murano and long to return. May you find your way to it and feel you've found home.

RELATED
The Look of Love: Burt Bacharach & Hal David at the Hotel Murano

March 5, 2008

In The Eye of the Beholder

Other than site and materials, I see not much difference between the trailer park and...

...Habitat '67. I think both are beautiful and valid.

January 28, 2008

The JC Penney Building and Aldermanic Ego

Martin Luther King Jr. Drive between Hamilton & Hodiamont
Wellston, MO
I have touched on this building inside a previous post. If you have ever run across it in your travels, bet it's seared in your memory. It's a singular building both in its neighborhood and in our city. Architects travel from out of town to see this Le Corbu-like gem. It's unique and spacious with plenty of options for future use. That's why the man who owns it bought it, and that's why he's been working to get it registered for both state and federal historic tax credits. The photos you see here are part of the series that I took for the owner's applications. I did them for only the cost of the prints; wish I could have done it for free. Anything to help this building stand and thrive. And that is now becoming a problem.

The owner keeps me filled in on the struggle between him and his alderman. Let's keep this story as tight as possible:

In 2006, Alderman Jeffrey Boyd fully supported the Landmarks Association writing the historic register nomination for this building. By winter 2007, it was ready to go before the Missouri Advisory Council, but Ald. Boyd had it pulled from the line-up. Why?

Ald. Boyd had a friend who wanted to buy the building and tear it down. The owner would not sell to someone who wants to tear it down when he's working to bring it back to life. This pissed off Boyd, who then had it yanked from all board reviews and has since blocked any type of progress on the building. Despite the alderman's anger, the owner began in earnest to get the building listed and eligible for tax credits to protect his investment.

Despite the feud, the owner has placed the building on the February 2008 agenda of the State Historic Preservation Office.

And Alderman Boyd is calling everyone he can to get this nomination yanked, once again. To his credit, he's been very honest about why he wants it yanked: he wants it demolished.

Some of the local offices he has called flat out refused his request. But there's a healthy list of local and state offices Boyd has contacted who have yet to weigh in.

They need to hear from people other than Boyd, and they need to understand the basic facts:
An alderman would rather demolish and leave another vacant lot in Wellston than let the building's owner work to improve it.

Has Boyd explained the logic behind his plan?
Does he have a plan for something to go in its place?
Does he have any other valid reasons why he opposes this building and its owner?
Is this aboveboard business or is this a personal pissing match driven by ego and emotion?

This building's nomination goes before the Preservation board today, January 28th. It goes before the Missouri Advisory board on February 9th.

Below are the people you can e-mail with your thoughts about the matter. If this situation bothers you, please speak up. Again, they need to understand more about this building beyond the Owner vs. Alderman struggle. At the very least, illogical injustice needs to be exposed.

Kathleen Shea, Director
Cultural Resources Office
1015 Locust Street #1200
St. Louis, MO 63101
SheaK@stlouiscity.com

Tiffany Patterson, National Register Coordinator
State Historic Preservation Office
P.O. Box 176
Jefferson City, MO 65102
tiffany.patterson@dnr.mo.gov

January 27, 2008

The Tackiest ATM Ever

Hwy 157 near Center Grove Road, Edwardsville, IL
This drive-thru carnival literally screamed at me from the highway, prompting a U-turn in the middle of the street to go back and verify that I truly saw what I thought I saw.

The stone bases and the ionic columns are already as preposterous to a drive-up ATM as marbleized stationary is to letter writing. But with its plastic and veneer references to ancient Greek architecture, certainly the bank is trying to denote class and strength and firmness. They carry on the classical column theme on their website.

Any visual clues to strength and firmness are completely obliterated from this angle. It looks like that roof is going to crack off and crush the roof of the next car through. It doesn't take a structural engineer or architect to instinctively recognize that this pretentious and foolish ATM quickly conveys the exact opposite of what was intended by the financial institution it serves.

But let's keep context in mind. This is a part of town that rapidly built-up around the edge of the SIUE campus. The university is the gravity of the area, thus street names copy the entire list of Old English and Ivy League university names. Citizens prize a new village, but a sense of antiquity is quickly needed to bolster the social class anxiety always under the surface in shiny penny new communities. That is why so many of the commercial buildings on this immediate strip slap on all manner of pediments, columns and dentil molding to the flat fronts of their simple brick boxes. The ATM is obediently following through on a hastily devised plan of gravitas through ornamentation.

Paul Fussell well-described this phenomenon in his book Class: A Guide Through the American Status System. He might as well of been speaking of this ATM when he wrote, "facade labors to extort respect, and it is thus one of the most pathetic artifacts, bespeaking the universal human need to claim dignity and high consequence... The middle-class longing for dignity frequently expresses itself in columns or pilasters arguing the impressive weight of edifice... The principle that