Benjamin Franklin Buck, Jr. in the Freeman home, 1939 – 11th Ave. Greeley
Benjamin Franklin Buck, Jr. in the Freeman home, 1939 – 11th Ave. Greeley
Last night, I joined fellow historic building fans and saviors for the Preservation Alliance’s annual preview tour of one of the group’s upcoming Awards luncheon honoree projects: the former Baptist Temple, now the Temple Performing Arts Center. What a great rehabilitation project I discovered, and what a perfect architectural example of Philadelphia’s 250-year-old and still thriving reputation as a center of innovation and invention.
Project architects rmjm/Hillier and engineers Keast & Hood were presented with a 100+ year old stone landmark that had been abandoned for more than 20 years. The team was challenged with transforming it into a performing space with enough flexibility to welcome the University orchestra, rock concerts, weddings and weekend church services. One of their most interesting tasks required inserting a substantial lobby space into what was originally designed in 1891 as one large preaching barn. A big, square open space – no interior columns to intrude on the sightlines of the 4,000 congregants to the pulpit, 200 voice choir loft and “River of Jordan” baptismal font – had to be divided to provide a traditional, separated lobby with the usual audience amenities and new vertical circulation.
Thankfully, instead of trying to create a historicized, pseudo-19th century lobby, the architects chose a very sleek, modern vocabulary that draws patrons through a glowing glass and steel environment into the stunning, and slightly surprising, restored auditorium. Meanwhile, the designers also had to engineer a structural upgrade that complemented the four underperforming columns at building corners, which stretch from foundation to roof, that Keast & Hood tour guides described as ” like a waiter supporting a tray on the tips of four outstretched fingers.”
Baptist Temple and Temple University founder Russell Conwell headed up Victorian Philadelphia’s premiere megachurch here, where he built a theatre that was designed to focus his star struck flock’s attention, center stage, on his notoriously uplifting and inspiring sermons. So the University’s preservation project at Conwell’s Temple can’t be called an adaptive use; it’s still a theatre. But the careful rehabilitation includes textbook restoration of lots of historic elements, like conservation of scores of art glass windows. The spectacular central fan window above the entrance now casts a gloriously colorful glow in the auditorium through an enormous – and soundproof – glass wall in the new lobby.
One historic element didn’t make the restoration planning cut, however. In the Chapel of the Four Chaplains, a splendid undercroft designed in an elegant Romanesque style in 1951, the great central arch frames the platform from whence interdenominational religious services were to be conducted. But the turntable within the arch that allowed the Catholic, Jewish and Protestant altars or regalia to be rotated into view when needed was never fully used, and has now been dispensed with.
Observers like marketing guru Patricia Mann are extolling Philadelphia’s current brand as an incubator of innovation and the logical extension of our long history as a “cradle of invention.” (See Ben Franklin.) The inventively and beautifully reborn Temple on North Broad is a first rate performance hall, a terrific model of preservation with out-of-the-box thinking, and a worthy recipient of the Preservation Alliance’s Achievement Award.
This really warm weather brings out the walkers, including me, and a day of exploring Washington Square West confirms that Philadelphia is looking pretty great in all this sunshine. More historic streetlights are going up on South 12th Street; that block by the slowly rebirthing Odd Fellows Building really needs the light, notwithstanding the horrendous flashing LED’s washing the facade of the new nightclub next door. (And does anyone know what “The Leoncalvo” was, by the way?)
Tulips, azaleas and wisteria splash across the front of the beautiful and historic Pennsylvania Hospital with vibrant color, reminding me of my first days as a new Philly resident and coming upon that glorious monument to Dr. Thomas Bond’s and Benjamin Franklin’s vision that became America’s first hospital. I knew I was someplace extraordinary.
And then there are the Litter Critters: fanciful re-imaginings of the very functional and very boring Big Belly recycling and trash cans along the sidewalks of Headhouse Square and South Street. The exuberantly designed vinyl wraps encircling the trash receptacles would put a smile on any face with their individual personalities and colorful palettes.
Thanks to the city’s extraordinary Mural Arts program (Mayor Nutter just bragged that Philly is the mural capital of the universe!) for their Big Picture art education program. I finally connected the mental dots about the so-cool, festively decorated trash trucks that started appearing last year.
Similar kudos to the Lombard Street homeowner who, fed up with the poorly located and ugly traffic signal powerboxes on our sidewalks that also serve as major tagger-magnets, hired an artist to make “her” powerbox a perpetual reminder of spring.
It’s quite a spring in Philadelphia: PIFA is just wrapping up, and what a magnifique three weeks of massive arts festival the @Kimmel Center has brought us. We had no trapeze lessons, but enjoyed many of the terrific offerings. Can’t wait for next year.
Now for Penn Relays. And the first blooms in our own garden.
The final verdict is in. President Obama and the “tough-on-spending” crowd in Washington got their way when the latest stopgap federal funding bill that Obama signed recently abolished the Save America’s Treasures grant program. It’s true, certain members of Congress had hijacked some of those grant funds by way of their own pet project earmarks over the past few years. Nevertheless, thousands of fragile pieces of our national culture were saved, preserved, restored and celebrated thanks to the SAT grant program that began as a vision of then-First Lady Hillary Clinton in the mid-1990s.
In Philadelphia, we’ve been fortunate that a lot of pretty important and valued landmarks have been the recipients of SAT funding. Mother Bethel AME Church, the founding location of Rev. Richard Allen’s African Methodist Episcopal church, built in 1890, got badly needed structural repairs. Christ Church in Old City, the Eastern State Penitentiary and more than 30 other critical heritage projects got funding that, because they required matching money, leveraged much more private philanthropic giving to see the projects completed.
Now, no more. The nation’s only source of bricks and mortar preservation help is ended. In the thirty years that I’ve been making my own small efforts to help preserve our cultural patrimony, I’ve heard so often “why can’t America be like Europe, where they appreciate their historic buildings and places and really preserve them?” I never paid much attention to that comparison question (apples to oranges in so many ways). But now, quoting Winston Churchill, who was responding to a wartime minister who proposed slashing cultural spending in Britain, I ask “then what are we fighting for?”
Let’s do some comparisons. The Tory/LibDem coalition government in that selfsame Britain, which has just slashed its spending by an even greater proportion than Congress’ deficit hawks are calling for, has announced that the Heritage Lottery Fund will give out £300 million (pounds) – that’s more than $500 million – a year starting in 2013 for heritage preservation and conservation projects in the UK. That’s ten times the largest ever annual US appropriation to Save America’s Treasures. Makes you wonder why so many American leaders, who holler about American values and our cultural exceptionalism, are utterly unwilling to help pay for sustaining it.
So what if a New Jersey Senator successfully earmarked some dough to restore and re-open Thomas Edison’s Invention Factory? Just like at the Wagner Free Institute of Science in Philadelphia – with perhaps a slightly more recognizable brand – the Edison Factory used that SAT money to preserve and present to our kids and future generations an inspiration for getting interested in science and innovation.
While Congress and the President have ignored the cries from thousands of Americans who have argued for the job-creating, culture-preserving value of Save America’s Treasures (the abolition of which will save the beleaguered Treasury the equivalent of a tiny rounding error in the federal budget) the English Heritage Lottery Fund has embarked on a nationwide consultation to get UK residents’ opinions and ideas on how the £300 million should be spent each year. What a daft idea. Listening to the tax payers.
Is NPR really next?
Jeez. Change is hard. Here I’ve been a change agent for all these years – though I didn’t really know to call myself one until fairly recently. And now my own life is changing as my story is taking off in new directions. I’ve spent a lot of time over those years thinking about/helping others to make decisions on/persuading those who resisted making choices about how and whether to preserve the existing built places that make cities, towns and landscapes unique. For a long time most have called that “historic preservation.” But those two words have come to be misunderstood, as recently described by Johanna Hoffman in Next American City, if not actively resisted or even despised. Maybe we ought to try “change management.”
So even as my personal story sees the turn of a few more pages, and I inform, persuade, cajole (and put the bite on) folks in different ways, I can’t help but see the change agent role remaining as a constant in the chapters of my story ahead.
It’s tricky trying to help shape decisions about the art and commerce of making or destroying or changing buildings, spaces and landscapes that people use and live in. Buildings and spaces require use – an engagement with people in direct ways not usually experienced by the consumers of visual, theatrical, musical, fine or popular arts. It’s a level of interactivity that places an extra layer of meaning onto architecture and design. Decision-making and opinion-shaping are more difficult when you’re talking about places. Managing change with a preservation ethic means having to make hard choices and having to explain and justify them to skeptics who always wonder who made you the taste police. And the speeding up of development, and development decision-making, in a creative city on the rise like Philadelphia makes being a change manager still harder. #PhillyRising. We have to not only discern what places are important to people now but anticipate what people might find important in the – maybe not even too – distant future. Example? We dodged the bullet aimed at our generation by a previous one that really wanted the “ugly” Philadelphia City Hall erased from Penn Square. I sure don’t want to be aiming similar guns at the Millenials.
Here’s a more current example. I saw a presentation recently on the latest proposal for the eminently re-developable Stephen Girard block in Center City Philadelphia. Previous, pretty grandiose dreams for blading the entire block between 11th and 12th Streets and building a gazillion square feet of mixed uses on Market and Chestnut are thankfully history. Now, the low-slung, full block Market Street building (a building beloved by few) may be replaced by an exciting mixed-use glass structure, better-scaled and with some cool potential tenants and slick graphics. For the rest of the block: no announced plans, yet.
And there’s the provocative change management problem. On 12th Street, in mid-block, is the Stephen Girard Building, an imposing and nicely detailed Renaissance Revival skyscraper. A little tatty right now, but it has good bones and is marked with an important name in Philadelphia history, after all. Most preservationists will probably argue passionately for its preservation and repurposing. I will.
Then there’s the interesting, maybe not as pretty, Art Moderne building filling the block fronting Chestnut Street. That one takes some more careful perusal and thought. Built in the 1930s, it replaced much altered rowhouses that had long been used for retail. Several levels of parking sit atop the storefronts, which are nicely articulated in great Modern Movement materials and finishes. Certainly, it’s a unique building telling an important story of Machine Age change and urban growth. I’ll bet there will be fewer passionate advocates for this one, but I’m voting for trying to find a way to better monetize and preserve it. It’s an important part of the connective tissue in the retail heart of Center City and a subtly urbane streetscape building.
The decision-makers and taste-arbiters are going to have a big change management challenge soon on the Girard Block. It’ll be interesting.
Johanna at Next American City says preservation is misunderstood. You think? After all these years, my family back in Denver still isn’t sure what I do for my day job. But now that I’m managing change for other organizations and in my own story, they kind of get it. Kind of.
The Sustainable Cities Collective has posted a Self-Affirmation Guide for Urbanites that’s helping me to stay the course as a confirmed and happy city-dweller, in spite of the shards of wood cornice still falling off the building next door and yes, those annoying little Ziploc bags lurking on our stoop.
I can tick off each entry in the Collective’s checklist of “optimizing human experience” characteristics of urban residency with my own such experience in Philadelphia :
• Chances for knowledge transfer, informal and formal – we just met some really smart and interesting folks at a Kimmel Center event marking the upcoming opening of the Philadelphia International Festival of the Arts (@PIFAphilly), and this morning I got a good dose of new knowledge at the monthly Design Advocacy Group meeting at the Center for Architecture.
• Culture available on a grand scale – we can be in our seats for the Philadelphia Orchestra at the aforesaid Kimmel Center after a seven minute walk from home. I need say no more.
• Smart people attracted to centers of learning and political power – I have to say I get less pleasure from the huge lighted JEFFERSON sign looming over Washington Square West than I do from the neat and varied, place-based graphics marking University of the Arts locations in the neighborhood. But the braininess surrounding us all the time is palpable and wonderful.
• Density = reduced carbon footprint – best thing we ever did was to ditch the car and join Philly Car Share two years ago, SEPTA’s sudden cancellation of my train this morning, after a forty minute wait for its “on time” alter ego, notwithstanding.
Urban life, even in Philadelphia, can sometimes be maddening, certainly. My husband’s small creative business in Center City would thrive and create still more jobs were it not for the infernal Business Privilege Tax. You go, Mayor Nutter! The falling ice, crumbling cornice, peeling paint and general shabbiness of the empty and mostly boarded up building next door is a constant irritant. (Although I heard at this morning’s DAG from speaker John Kromer that, of the 553 vacant houses he inventoried in 1998 in Southwest Center City, all but 49 were renovated and occupied by 2008, so things are getting a lot better. For some neighborhoods. See John’s candidacy for Sheriff, by the way.) The Community Design Collaborative, celebrating its 20th anniversary this year, is connecting more young design and planning professionals with more communities, empty industrial sites and other neighborhood strengthening opportunities than ever before. Great balloons, guys.
Thanks to Next American City and the Sustainable Cities Collective, I can confirm that there’s really no chance that I’ll be cheating with a suburb. For one thing, it seems they don’t age well, and I’m too old to try to keep finding ever younger ones.
It snowed in Philadelphia – again – yesterday. But already the piles of white that had turned grey, slushy and icy are melting and the water is flowing into the storm sewers and thence to the rivers.
The little rivulets of trickling water among the crunchy piles of snow lingering on the pavement remind me that beneath the city are ancient brick culverts not unlike the Paris sewers in miniature. In them: a spiderweb of historic streams and creeks that once knitted together the tiny communities and isolated residents of the lower Delaware and Schuylkill watersheds. In the 18th and early 19th century farmers, millers and factories relied on them. Wildlife and farm animals drank from them. They were pathways and destinations. And then, as the city spread across them, they were channelized, enclosed and undergrounded.
Reopening the historic creeks through the densely built city isn’t likely to happen. The city’s Water Department says that’s “crazy.” Nevertheless, Philadelphia architects Gavin and Juliet Riggall have a vision and a business built on capturing the rain and snow from the sky. These two friends of ours are working on plans for new watersheds in Philadelphia neighborhoods, creating both beauty and utility, which the Riggalls regard as two parts of the design whole.
Married and working together in their emerging young firm, Juliet and Gavin are committed to making a difference. North Street Design, which they started in 2008, is literally breaking new ground with a diverse portfolio and an even broader vision of how design can make positive change in Philadelphia and across the region.
We knew about their cool design aesthetic and commitment to making their residential clients feel comfortable living through the chaos and disruption of a home renovation project. My husband and I are one of those clients. But what I didn’t know until recently is the story of their partnership with another design firm in an award-winning project, “Waterwork.” It’s about empowering people in city neighborhoods to take control of the spaces they inhabit and helping to answer the question “”how do we turn vacant land into an asset in Philadelphia,” creating long-term solutions for the 40,000+ vacant properties in the city.
The venture, in its fifth year, proposes to reclaim vacant sites and make them green filters by capturing rain water and redirecting its flow. The City Parks Association and the Van Alen Institute, sponsors of the Urban Voids design competition, praised the Waterwork proposal as they awarded it their Grand Prize: “This design strategy offers ecologically sound recreational and infiltration solutions for the use of naturally cleaned storm-water run-off.” The social and economic, not to mention ecological, benefits of the plan have captured the interest and involvement of Drexel’s Civil Engineering department, the City of Philadelphia Water Department and the Point Breeze neighborhood. There, the Riggalls and their partners are deeply involved in engaging the community in work on a green infrastructure master plan. What’s needed now is further funding to realize the plan.
Meanwhile, Gavin and Juliet are building a practice that responds to design challenges in a very personal way. “Good and beautiful environments make people happy,” says Juliet.
The couple met on their first day as graduate architecture students at the University of Pennsylvania’s Graduate School of Fine Arts. Gavin’s background and undergraduate education was in art, while Juliet arrived with a civil engineering degree – having switched from aerospace engineering when she saw that her desire to work on (literally) stellar structures like the International Space Station was less likely to be realized “than working on helicopters and cargo planes.” Both saw the creative and society-enhancing opportunities that architecture can, in its best incarnations, offer as a profession and a calling. While each spent time working for other firms, they say that their goals and aspirations are best fulfilled working in their own business.
They are wisely diversifying their products and their skills to respond to a fluid and uncertain marketplace. They are not only designing but are involved in the fabrication and installation of rainwater harvesting devices and systems that offer the aesthetic and practical functions that they always demand from anything they’re involved with. Their current design projects include an exciting rain water harvesting installation on the historic Cynwyd train station as part of an extensive rehabilitation of that landmark by the Lower Merion Historical Society. The challenge there, remarks Gavin, is to appropriately integrate a 21st century technology and application with the historic architecture. Similar challenges will face them as they begin work soon on a rain water harvesting project at historic Woodford Mansion, in Fairmount Park, in collaboration with the Philadelphia Orchard Project and the East Park Revitalization Alliance.
They are busy, and excited about their prospects. Gavin describes the many nights at Penn Design when he slept under his desk: “Creation makes me happy – it’s a source of contentment.” I’ll bet he still sleeps at his desk occasionally, while the 3-D computer models he’s working on take their languorous time to render. Here’s hoping that the groundbreaking and poetic design ideas that the Riggalls are bringing to the social and economic environment in Philadelphia are as inexorable as the flow of water, falling from the sky, that flows into the streams and culverts and then gathers force and spills into the rivers that help define us as a city.