Inland Steel Building

[Inland Steel Building (1958) Bruce Graham / Walter Netsch, SOM, architects / Image & Artwork: designslinger]

As often happens when doing research on a building, you will find discrepencies that require more digging in the hunt for accuracy. Dates don’t jibe, addresses don’t match, and there are times when questions arise about which architect to attribute a building to. Take the case of Adler & Sullivan’s 1892 Charnley House. Prior to Frank Lloyd Wright publicly taking credit for the project in the 1930s, the building had been credited to Louis Sullivan. When the Chicago office of Skidmore, Ownings & Merrill’s Inland Steel Building arrived on the scene in the late 1950s, the building’s design was attributed to team member Bruce Graham, until fellow SOM partner Walter Netsch began to take some of the credit for the inspirational design. When Wright decided to declare that he was really the one responsible for Charnley, Sullivan and his partner Dankmar Adler were both dead, as were most of the other people who would have been working in Adler & Sullivan’s office at the time. When the Inland Steel kerfuffle began, not only were Netsch and Graham still alive, so were several other SOM members who were there when the steel company came knocking at SOM’s door.

[Inland Steel Building, 30 W. Monroe St., Chicago / Image & Artwork: designslinger]

Inland Steel was one of a handful of large steel manufacturers clustered along the southern edge of Lake Michigan running between the far southeast side of Chicago and northwestern Indiana. The company had been founded in 1893 by Joseph Block and his son Philip, and by the mid-1950s, was one of the most profitable steel makers in the world. Their corporate offices were headquartered in downtown Chicago on two floors of the old First National Bank Building which used to stand at the northwest corner of Dearborn and Monroe Streets, and where Marc Chagall’s Four Seasons mosaic mural sits today. At a time when many of the city’s central business district offices were leaving the Loop and following their workforce out to the suburbs, the second generation of the Block family, and their board chairman at the time Clarence Randall, decided it was time to move as well. But unlike their other corporate counterparts, Inland decided to stay-put in downtown Chicago and to construct a new building from the ground-up – right across the street.

[Inland Steel Building, National Historic Landmark / Image & Artwork: designslinger]

The property they had set their sights on was located on the northeast corner of Dearborn and Monroe and was owned by the Chicago Board of Education. The entire square block bounded by Dearborn, Monroe, State and Madsion Streets had been designated as school property in the 1830s when the federal government divvied-up the land in and around what would eventually become the Illinois & Michigan Canal – and the city of Chicago. Most of the buildings on the block sat on long term, land lease agreements between the owners of the structures and the Board, except for the Crilly Building, built in 1878, which the School Board owned outright. Inland wanted the Crilly and the old Saratoga Hotel next door, and negotiations got underway. Leigh Block was put in charge of the building committee, and with Randall’s okay, Inland got to work on the School Board. Randall apparently was the one who made the call to Skidmore, Owings & Merrill.

[Inland Steel Building, City of Chicago Landmark / Image & Artwork: designslinger]

SOM had three offices at the time, one in New York, one in Chicago, and one in San Francisco. At one of the first presentation meetings SOM’s lead designer architect Gordon Bunshaft, who was based in New York, came to Chicago and the attendees were shown a model of the building from a design by Chicago office-based partner Walter Netsch. The building resembled Bunshaft’s Lever Building then underway in New York, but Netsch’s proposal contained one major and ground-breaking difference – all the mechanical systems required for the shimmering glass, curtain-walled, 19-story structure were contained in an adjacent 25-story windowless service tower attached to the building’s east side. This meant that the interior of the shimmering glass, curtain wall structure would have a floor plan free of space gobbling elevators, stairways and restrooms. But Inland didn’t have the land to build on yet, and Randall wasn’t crazy about the design.

[Inland Steel Building, Dearborn & Monroe Streets, Chicago / Image & Artwork: designslinger]

By the time Inland was able to acquire the property along the east side of Dearborn north of Monroe, Walter Netsch was working on a new project for SOM, the U.S. Air Force Academy in Colorado Springs, Colorado. So architect Bruce Graham of the Chicago office was put in charge. Graham wanted to reveal more of the building’s structure and took Netsch’s vertical columns out from behind the glass curtain wall and moved them to the exterior of the building. Add-in Inland’s pushing-it-to-the-limits nearly 60-foot- long steel girders that spanned the width of the lot from one column to the other, and the interior office floor plan was now entirely open and free of obstructions. Graham’s exposed exterior columns were covered in stainless steel, which was not provided by Inland Steel Company per se. A full page ad the corporation placed in the Chicago Tribune on February 4, 1958 stated that Ryerson Steel, a wholly owned subsidiary of Inland, was responsible for delivering the 400 tons of shiny material. The questions remains however, did Ryerson make it or just supply it? The building in all its shimmering glory, was ready for occupancy in 1958, and was the first tall commercial structure to be built in Chicago’s Loop since 1931, when the country fell deeper into the financial abyss that we know today as the Great Depression. The Inland Steel Building was a big hit and an instant landmark. It put the Chicago office on the world architectural map, and became a bone of contention for Netsch because Graham got all the credit. In 1991 Netsch, who claimed co-authorship for the design, gave the Art Institute of Chicago the model that was shown to the Inland group in 1954, and the public now had an opportunity to decide for themselves. And although the building was eventually credited to both designers, the question of attribution could still rankle. The museum began an oral history project in the 1980s and began interviewing architects like Walter Netsch, Bruce Graham, Gordon Bunshaft, and another SOM partner in the Chicago office at the time Bill Hartman. Each one was asked about the Inland controversy and some were more politic than others. Netsch said it was essentially his, while Graham acknowledged Walter’s contribution but felt that the column change alone had so substantially altered the design that the end result was his. Bill Hartman was the most even handed of the four, he said Walter contributed to the overall concept while Bruce was responsible for the finished design. Only Bunshaft gave a definitive response, “He did it. Walter. Bruce had nothing to do with it.”

 

See more of School Board’s block at: Majestic Theatre Building – Bank of America Theatre; North American Building, Chicago; and Chicago Savings Bank Building/ The Chicago Building; and a 3-part story of an historic Dearborn Street neighbor at: Marquette Building, Marquette Building, Chicago and Marquette Building, 140 S. Dearborn Street, Chicago.

 

 

Posted in 20th Century Bldgs., Chicago School, Landmarked, Preservation | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Second Presbyterian Church, Chicago

[Second Presbyterian Church, Chicago (1874) James Renwick, Jr., architect; (1904) Howard Van Doren Shaw, architect; Frederic Clay Bartlett, murals; Tiffany Glass & Decorating Co., William Fair Kline, Giannini & Hilgart, Edward Burne-Jones, Louis J. Millet, art glass / Image & Artwork: designslinger]

If you were to find yourself standing under Chicago’s famous elevated rapid transit line at the northeast corner of Wabash and Washington today, it might be hard to imagine that 165 years ago this was considered to be on the outskirts of town. It’s why the congregants of Second Presbyterian Church decided to build a new house of worship on that corner in the early 1850′s – to get away from the congestion of the city’s ever expanding commercial district a few blocks west. The second society of the city’s Presbyterians had organized themselves in 1842 and had taken-up residence in a number of locations around the courthouse at Washington and Clark Streets, before deciding to settle-in at Wabash and Washington. Their new corner lot was adjacent to Dearborn Park, a half-square block of green space that overlooked the lake surrounded by a cluster of homes occupied by of some of the city’s notable movers and shakers.  The building committee called on John Van Osdel, the first person in the rapidly developing city to call himself an architect, and promptly rejected his design. A young New York architect, who at age 25 had been given the opportunity to design that city’s Grace Church in 1843, caught the committee’s attention. Why not have James Renwick – who was gaining notoriety as one of the country’s early practioners of Gothic Revival in the U.S. as a result of Grace Church – design the new Second Presbyterian, take maximum advantage of their prominent corner lot, and introduce the style to Chicago.

[Second Presbyterian Church, Chicago, 1936 S. Michigan Avenue / Image & Artwork: designslinger]

Renwick’s design not only changed the face of the city’s eccelsiastical map, he also used a building material that brought the structure more notice than the elders could have anticipated. Dubbed the “Spotted Church” because of the architect’s choice of a bituminous limestone containing tar deposits that created dark spots along the light stone surface, the building became as famous for its “spots” as for its design. In 1871, just 17 years after consecrating their cutting-edge design, the congregation was on the move again. During that time period the city’s central business district had continued to expand, and as the membership of Second Presbyterian moved further south the church followed suit. They sold their corner lot for $161,000 and set their sights on a location further down Wabash at 20th Street. The last service was held at the “Spotted Church” on the first Sunday of October in 1871, one week before a massive fire would destroy the church, the central business district, and over half of the built-up portions of Chicago.

[Second Presbyterian Church, Chicago; National Historic Landmark / Image & Artwork: designslinger]

The building committee once again turned to Renwick, and after exchanging the Wabash Avenue property for a lot at Michigan Avenue and 20th Street, construction got underway. The area east of the church site was also experiencing a building boom of sorts. By the time the church was consecrated in 1874 businessmen whose names would come to define the city were building homes on a scale unlike anything the Chicago had ever seen, and within 15 years Prairie Avenue would become home to one of the largest concentrations of wealth in the nation. The money trail spilled over on to Michigan Avenue’s “Millionaire Row” and soon the street was lined with rows of townhouses and large single family mansions that stretched from 16th Street south to 31st. Second Presbyterian became known around town as the city’s wealthiest and most powerful congregation whose pews were occupied by people with names we may still recognize today, Pullman, Armour, Blackstone, Crerar.

[Second Presbyterian Church, Chicago; City of Chicago Landmark / Image & Artwork: designslinger]

Then on March 8, 1900 fire once again claimed Second Presbyterian. The interior of the $275,000 edifice was gone, poof, up in smoke and left in ruins. Church elders pulled -up their boot straps, got together, and built again. By this time Renwick was dead and so the building committe hired one of their own parishioners Howard Van Doren Shaw to redesign the sanctuary. Shaw’s father was typical of many of the church’s members, one of those early Chicago pioneers who came to the city when it was nothing more than a few log cabins sinking in the mud, who became very wealthy in the dry goods wholesale business. The architect worked within the four standing walls of Renwick’s design but he created an entirely new interior environment. Shaw was interested in what he saw in the humanizing industrial relationship that the Arts and Crafts movement was trying to create, and convinced the church board to let him design a space that embraced the theories put forward by Arts and Crafts practitioners. The collaboration of artistry between Shaw’s deft handling of the interior space, muralist Frederic Clay Bartlett’s imagery, and the stunning art glass created by Tiffany Studios, William Fair Kline, Giannini & Hilgart, Edward Burne-Jones and Louis J. Millet, produced one of the country’s most dynamic – and today’s few remaining – Arts & Crafts spaces. The sancutary was revelatory.

[Second Presbyterian Church, Chicago; South Loop, Chicago / Image & Artwork: designslinger]

On December 29, 1901, soon after the interior was compeleted, an overflow crowd packed the church to hear Booker T. Washington give an address on “the need for the education of the Negro.” The crowd was made-up of people whose heritage was Western European as well as African, but it wouldn’t be until 1958 that Second Church officially became integrated. By that time the economic and racial make-up of the neighborhhood had changed. The beginning of the end for “the street where the elite meet” came in 1910 when the Law mansion at 1620 Prairie was demolished. By that time George Pullman, George Armour, Timothy Blackstone and John Crerar were dead. The “elite” were following people like Potter Palmer to the near north side of the city, and many were fleeing Chicago entirely for the greener pastures of the far north shore suburb of Lake Forest. By 1911 American Bank Note and Engraving had built a printing plant within sight of the church at the corner of Indiana Avenue and 20th Street, now named Cullerton, and the Chicago Carriage and Trimming Company was located next door. The Prairie Avenue house Marshall Field had acquired for his son Marshall, Jr. was now an alcohol rehabiliation facility called the Gatlin Institute. The former mansion of Chicago Stock Yard tycoon John B. Sherman, one of the first commissions for the firm of Burnham & Root, was now the McCormick Medical College. On the corner of 21st and Michigan stood the automobile showroom of Studebaker & Co. Across the street, a row of townhouses had been demolished to make way for a series of automobile “garages.”

[Second Presbyterian Church, Chicago; Michigan Avenue / Image & Artwork: designslinger]

By the 1960s only a handful of the old residences still stood, replaced largely by manufacturing plants and federally subsidized housing. By the 1970s Second Presbyterian had a congregation of 60 members. In a community afflicted by poverty, drugs and crime, those dedicated and tenacious congregants held on, and by using the interest income from the large endowment created over the years by the once financially wealthy congregation wisely, provided excellent stewardship for the aging building. Then in the late 1990s change came to the area once again. Development in the newly christened “South Loop” neighborhood brought an influx of residential construction to Michigan and Prairie Avenues and a new economic mix to the area. In 2006 Friends of Historic Second Church was organized to help with the preservation and restoration of Renwick and Shaw’s landmark structure. And in March 2013, the building was listed among the country’s nearly 2,500 National Historic Landmarks, a bump-up from the over 85,000 sites listed on the National Register of Historic Places.

See more of Shaw’s work at: Platt Luggage Building and Mentor Building, Chicago; more of Prairie Avenue at: Elbridge G. Keith House; and see what stands on the site of the “Spotted Church” today at: Garland Building.

 

 

Posted in 19th Century Bldgs., Decorative Arts, Landmarked, Preservation | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , | 6 Comments

Rockefeller Memorial Chapel – University of Chicago

[Rockefeller Memorial Chapel - University of Chicago (1928) Bertram Grosvenor Goodhue Associates, architects / Image & Artwork: designslinger]

In 1910 America’s first billionaire gave a final gift of $10 million to the University of Chicago. John D. Rockefeller, Sr. had given the school the seed money to get off the ground in the early 1890s, and after nearly 20 years of continuing contributions the Standard Oil plutocrat had decided that this donation would be his last. The gift came with a stipulation however, $1.5 million of the awarded funds had to be set aside for the construction of a chapel on the school’s campus – a request that would take more than a decade to fulfill.

[Rockefeller Memorial Chapel - University of Chicago, 5850 S. Woodlawn Avenue, Chicago / Image & Artwork: designslinger]

In 1892 the University opened with just three buildings on its Hyde Park campus. The school had hired Chicago architect Henry Ives Cobb to develop a master plan, and Cobb’s three Gothic Revival structures set in stone a design program that the institution would follow well into the middle of the twentieth century. And as the student population grew, so did the collegial Gothic campus. On September 24, 1924 the University announced that they were undertaking a massive 15-year building program along the north side of the Midway Plaisance – the wide green belt that connnected Jackson and Washington Parks – and filling-in the remaining empty spaces of the campus from Drexel Boulevard east to Dorchester Avenue. Fourteen years after Rockefeller’s designated gift, the Univeristy Chapel was finally going to get built.

[Rockefeller Memorial Chapel - University of Chicago; Lee Oskar Lawrie & Ulric Henry Ellerhusen, sculptors / Image & Artwork: designslinger]

University president Ernest DeWitt Burton had called on New York based architect Bertram Grosvenor Goodhue to design the chapel in advance of the formal announcement. Goodhue had built-up quite a reputation as one of the country’s premiere Gothic Revivalists through his partnership with architect Ralph Adams Cram. The revialist duo were a hot commodity in translating old European styles into modern contemporary structures, and when they went their separate ways in 1913 Goodhue carried on in that tradition. Ironically, even though U of C was interested in Goodhue’s Gothic genius, the architect was hard at work on two major projects, the streamlined Nebraska State Capitol Building and Los Angeles Public Library, demonstrated that Goodhue’s masterful hand extended all the way from 12th century spires and sprockets to the 20th century geometry of Art Deco.

[Rockefeller Memorial Chapel - University of Chicago; Hildreth Meiere, mosaicist; Alois Lange, woodcarver / Image & Artwork: designslinger]

Goodhue didn’t make it to Chicago for the September announcement, he had dropped dead of a heart attack on April 23, 1924 five days before his 55th birthday. The office still had a large number of projects on the drafting boards or under construction, so the remaining team reorganized as Bertram Grosvenor Goodhue Associates and carried on their boss’s work. One long time associate, sculptor Lee Oskar Lawrie had come to work with Bertram Goodhue in 1895 at the start of Goodhue’s partnership with Ralph Cram. Lawire had emigrated from Germany to Chicago with his parents, and became one of the thousands of craftsmen who worked on the Chicago World’s Columbian Exposition in the early 1890s. He moved east, met-up with Goodhue and Cram, and translated the architects Gothic inspired details into stone. Ulric Henry Ellerhusen came to the United States in 1894 and studied with famed Chicago sculptor Lorado Taft at the School of the Art Institute. He and Lawrie would carve all the stone on Goodhue’s massive chapel, with Lawrie in charge of everything below the 30-foot-high line and Ellerhusen for everything above. Hildreth Meiere who had also studied at the Art Institute, was a muralist and mosaicist who was working on the Nebarska State Capital building when she was asked to create mosaic murals for the interior of the chapel, and Alois Lange, a woodcarver who had emigrated to the U.S. from Oberammergau, Germany – the woodcarving capital of the world – was brought in to work his magic on virtually every piece of interior woodwork.

[Rockefeller Memorial Chapel - University of Chicago, City of Chicago Landmark / Image & Artwork: designslinger]

The building was dedicated on October 28, 1928 with John D. Rockefeller, Jr. in attendance. Senior was 89-years-old at the time and Junior had pretty much taken over for his father. Rockefeller not only paid tribute to his parents, he also announced that he was creating a $1 million endowment for the building in honor of his mother Laura Spelman Rockefeller, and dedicated the building in the service of tolerance for all in the true meaning of Christian love and charity. This didn’t settle well with the Catholic Church in Rome. The following February the Vatican published a treatise by the Pope slamming Rockefeller for his attempt at trying to make all religions equal.

[Rockefeller Memorial Chapel - University of Chicago, Hyde Park, Chicago / Image & Artwork: designslinger]

Although Rockefeller Senior’s last university directed donation had come in 1910, the Standard Oil funded largess kept on flowing when Junior ponied-up $300,000 for a 72-bell carillon that was installed in the 200 foot tower in 1932. After Senior’s death in 1937 at age ninety-seven, the school honored their founding benefactor by renaming the Univeristy Chapel the Rockefeller Memorial Chapel. And the fortune he had created, which had taken quite a hit as a result of the Great Depression, was estimated to be worth over nearly half-a-trillion 2013-era dollars.

See more at: Foster Hall – University of Chicago; Kent Chemical Laboratory Building – University of Chicago; Ryerson Physical Laboratory – University of Chicago; School of Social Service Administration Building; Henry Hinds Laboratory for the Geophysical Sciences; Charles M. Harper Center – University of Chicago Booth School of Business; Joseph Regenstein – Joe & Rika Mansueto Library Buildings; and Reva and David Logan Center for the Arts; and one of Goodhue’s final projects with Cram at: Fourth Presbyterian Church, Chicago.

 

 

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Three Arts Club, Chicago

[Three Arts Club, Chicago (1915) Holabird & Roche, architects / Image & Artwork: designslinger]

In October 1911 playwright and actress Grace Griswold came to Chicago with an idea, she wanted to establish a safe place for young women studying in the arts where they would be able to live and gather together as a refuge from the rough and tumble streets of the city. She knew Chicago well. Her father Joseph B. Hall had served as the senior warden of the Church of the Ascension on La Salle Street for 26 years until his death in 1898. Although based in New York, Griswold, like most actors of her day spent a lot of time on the road touring and knew first hand all of the temptations and confrontations that awaited young women as they tried to navigate through America’s large cities while persuing their careers. So she gathered together a group of prominent Chicago women, most of whom were members of the Chicago Women’s Club, and proposed the idea.

[Three Arts Club, Chicago, 1300 N. Dearborn Parkway, Chicago / Image & Artwork: designslinger]

Griswold offered-up as models the Three Arts Club in New York and Paris, and the Charlotte Cushman Club in Philadelphia. Her plan was to establish a network of clubs in large cities across the country providing reciprocal memberships, the same way that university or business clubs did. Chicago women with last names that read like a who’s who of the city’s elite decided to sign on and they set about raising money, and finding a location for Chicago’s Three Arts Club. Applicants had to be unmarried, between the ages of 18 and 30, and actively persuing a career as a painter, musician, or in the theater – this wasn’t meant to be a rest stop for dabbling hobbyists.

[Three Arts Club, Chicago, National Historic Landmark / Image & Artwork: designslinger]

The Board of Managers rented the old Terrell mansion on La Salle Street. Mrs. J. Ogden Armour oversaw and provided the funds for the decoration and furnishing of the main parlors and dining room, where resident and non-resident members could enjoy the company and camaraderie of like-minded careerists. Edith Rockefeller McCormick, Louise DeKoven Bowen, and other board members each donated the funds required to outfit one of the bedrooms that provided sleeping accomodations for up to 16 women. At first things didn’t go as planned, there were few takers, but as word spread the Three Arts Club of Chicago found itself bursting at the seams. In 1913 the Board of Managers set-out on a campaign to raise the funds to either buy or build a new home, which was spearheaded by their president Miss Gwethalyn Jones. Jones was a single women of means. Her father David Benton Jones had made a fortune in zinc mining which he generously shared with his children. When Gwethalyn found a site that she considered perfect for the new club her father purchased the aging J.M.W. Jones (no relation) mansion at the northwest corner of Dearborn Avenue and Goethe Street and gave the club a low-cost, long-term lease on the land.

[Three Arts Club, Chicago, City of Chicago Landmark / Image & Artwork: designslinger]

The board hired the architectural firm of Holabird & Roche to design a purpose-built facility with enough housing for 90 women, a suite of dedicated studio spaces, and enough room for a dining room, social hall and recital room. Senior partner William Holabird’s son John oversaw the project and found inspiration in the decorative Byzantine motifs of 6th century Ravenna with a dash of 16th century Paris. Studios took-up most of the fourth floor, bedrooms were on the second and third, and the dining and social rooms on the first floor opened-up on to an landscaped central courtyard. David Jones decided to help his daughter a little more in her endeavors and paid for the construction of the building. At the time of his death in 1923 the building and the land were donated to the club which now had a long waiting list of pending residential applicants.

[Three Arts Club, Chicago, Gold Coast National Historic District, Chicago / Image & Artwork: designslinger]

Fifty years after David Jones’ death the country, and the world, were undergoing great social changes. Fewer and fewer women found that they needed a place like the Three Arts to protect them from the evils of city life, and the “No Male Visitors After 11″ policy seemed more and more antiquated and out-of-touch as time went on. In 1980 there was a board room kerfuffle when some members felt that the time had come to shut down the facility while others felt there was still a need. Then as educational institutions like the School of the Art Institute of Chicago started providing housing much closer to their downtown campus, residency at the Three Arts fell to unstainable levels and the facilty finally closed its doors in May, 2003. The National Historic and City of Chicago Landmark was purchased for $13 million in 2007 by a developer who planned to convert the interior of the landmark building into a luxury boutique hotel. Nothing ever came of that plan, so the structure sat empty for a while before another proposal emerged: converting the former residence for the living into a repository for the dead. The columbarium idea never went any farther, and then in October, 2013 the Chicago City Council voted to approve a zoning change for the site which would allow Restoration Hardware to occupy the building at Dearborn and Goethe. The company plans to open their rebranded, upscale, RH store in the spring of 2015.

See more of nearby Dearborn Parkway at: Augustus Warner House, Charles A. Dupee House, Lucius B. Mantonya Flats, 1366 N. Dearborn Parkway, and Luther McConnell House.

 

 

Posted in 20th Century Bldgs., Adaptive Reuse, Decorative Arts, Landmarked, Preservation | Tagged , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

The D. L. Moody Memorial Church

[The D. L. Moody Memorial Church & Sunday School (1925) Fugard & Knapp, architects / Image & Artwork: designslinger]

In 1854, 17-year-old Dwight Lyman Moody left his mother’s home in Northfield, Massachusetts near the New Hampshire border and headed south to Boston. He had big plans. He set out on a mission to learn the ins and outs of the business world, intent on earning $100,000 a year as a result of his endeavors. Once he reached Boston he found work as a clerk in a shoe store and by the time he turned nineteen, he had come to the conclusion that Chicago might actually be the place where he would realize his dream.

[The D. L. Moody Memorial Church & Sunday School, 1635 N. La Salle Street, Chicago / Image & Artwork: designslinger]

He wouldn’t be the first, nor the last New Englander who believed that the young city out on the western frontier might be just the right place for an enterprising young man to make a fortune in the dry goods trade. Marshall Field, another Massachusetts native, came to Chicago in the same year as Moody, but while Field went on to become one of the wealthiest men in the United States, Moody found another calling. He was working as a salesman for C.N. Henderson & Co. in downtown Chicago, when he discovered a neighborhood very different from the one he lived in on Michigan Avenue. Just north of the Chicago River, in and around Illinois, Franklin and Market (today’s Orleans) Streets Moody discovered a ramshackle neighborhood comprised primarily of Irish immigrants from an area in County Cork, Ireland called Kilgubbin. It was one of the city’s densest and poorest whose streets were lined with small, deteriorating wooden shacks and filled with young boys popularly known as “Street Arabs.”

[The D. L. Moody Memorial Church & Sunday School, Near North Side, Chicago / Image & Artwork: designslinger]

Moody, an active member of Plymouth Congregational Church which was located near the boarding house he was living in, thought that if he could get these unruly young men to attend Sunday school he might be able to save them from the horrible life he believed was ahead of them. In 1859 he rented a room in one of the dilapidated buildings in the neighborhood, and with missionary zeal began canvassing the streets for young recruits. All of this effort caught the attention of upstate New York transplant and dry goods tycoon James V. Farwell, who offered Moody a meeting space in Farwell’s North Market Hall building on Hubbard Street for the Sunday classes. Moody quit his job, ditched the idea of earning $100,000-a-year, and dedicated himself to his new life calling.

[The D. L. Moody Memorial Church & Sunday School, Old Town, Chicago / Image & Artwork: designslinger]

By 1864, Moody had become well known in the city for his work, and was able to raise enough funds to build a church and Sunday school on Illinois Street. Swept away in the fire of 1871, he sets his sights on a location further north and chose the intersection of Chicago Avenue and La Salle Street. Ironically, he never served as the church’s senior pastor, instead choosing to focus all of his attention and energy on his evangelical, soul-saving mission. In 1874 after an extended excursion conducting revival meetings across England, Moody settled in his home town of Northfield, Massachusetts where he died in 1899. The last decade of his life rarely saw him back in Chicago, but in 1886 he was actively involved in the creation of the Chicago Evangelization Society.

[The D. L. Moody Memorial Church & Sunday School, Chicago / Image & Artwork: designslinger]

After his death, and in honor of their founder, the Society became the Moody Bible Institute and the church the D. L. Moody Memorial Church & School. Although they both took on the Moody label, and although the pastor of the church often served as the president of the Institute, legally they were, and are, their own separate entities – which has lead to much confusion. In 1915 Moody Memorial Church left their corner at Chicago Avenue and La Salle Street and the main campus of their cousin the Institute, and erected a very large “temporary” wooden tabernacle farther up La Salle at North Avenue. The temporary tabernacle was on its last wooden legs by the mid-1920s when the congregation announced that architects Fugard & Knapp would be designing a permanent home for the church and school. John Fugard and George Knapp had designed a number of large apartment houses along East Lake Shore Drive and in the Gold Coast neighborhood in their nine years as partners, and Moody Church would be one of their last projects together. In May, 1925 while the church was under construction, George Knapp decided to focus on his investment portfolio and left the firm. Their highly ornamented exterior enclosed a Sunday school and a 5,000-seat auditorium with enough space left over for a 300 person choir. The structure became one of the largest, purpose-built, Christian-identified, worship spaces in the world.

See more of Fugard & Knapp at: South Water Market – University Commons.

 

 

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Dearborn Street Station

[Dearborn Street Station (1885) Cyrus L.W. Eiditz / Image & Artwork: designslinger]

If you traveled in or out Chicago’s Midway or O’Hare airports in 2013, you were one of 86,874,713 passengers who passed through their terminals, landing or taking-off on one of the 1,135,126 aircraft that used the airports’ runways. It also makes you part of a transportaton hub system whose history dates back over 135 years.

[Dearborn Street Station, 47 W. Polk Street, Chicago / Image & Artwork: designslinger]

From the time the Galena & Chicago Union’s first rail car pulled out of the station on its way to suburban Oak Park on October 25,1848, Chicago’s movers and shakers never looked back. After the Civil War ended in 1865 a determined group of the city’s business leaders and boosters worked relentlessly to connect Chicago to an ever expanding national rail network, and as a result of their effort, by the 1880s, more trains and their passengers passed through Chicago than anywhere else in the world. And unlike today’s airports which are generally owned and operated by government agencies, in the 1880s, train terminals were owned, constructed and operated by the railroads themselves.

[Dearborn Street Station, City of Chicago Landmark / Image & Artwork: designslinger]

The Chicago & Western Indiana Railroad had first chugged into the city in the 1850s where it joined a number of other emerging rail lines establishing acre-gobbling rail yard presence south of the downtown business district. They purchased a large piece of land that extended from Van Buren Street all the way down to Taylor Street, between Fourth (today’s Federal Street) and Third (today’s Plymouth Court). They then constructed a small passenger terminal on Fourth Avenue,  just east of the two-block long depot of the Rock Island and Southern Michigan railroads. Then in 1882, at a March meeting of the Chicago City Council, alderman passed a bill authorizing the extension of Dearborn Street from Jackson Boulevard south to Taylor, which would run right through the middle of the railroad’s property. Needless to say, the C & W.I. wasn’t happy about it.

[Dearborn Street Station, Printer's Row, Chicago / Image & Artwork: designslinger]

The city set aside a sum of money to compensate property owners for the 80-foot-wide street, but the owners of the Chicago & Western Indiana weren’t interested in selling. After losing their battle in court, Mayor Carter Harrison, Sr. worked out a compromise with the railroad: if the C & W.I. would sell their land from Van Buren to Polk Street, then the city would not extend Dearborn all the way to Taylor. A deal was reached, and in 1884 with cash-in-hand, the railroad got to work on building a train station which would sit prominently at the foot of the newly extended Dearborn Street. The rail road hired New York City architect Cyrus L.W. Eiditz to design their new terminal, who drew-up plans that included an eye-catching clock tower that sat right in the middle the the block-wide building, and dominated the newly created intersection. The Dearborn Street Station, home to the Chicago & Western Indiana and five other rail lines, opened for business on May 31, 1885.

[Dearborn Street Station, South Loop, Chicago / Image & Artwork: designslinger]

The Dearborn Street Station was one of six passenger train terminals that surrounded Chicago’s downtown Loop district. Four of them were within easy walking distance of one another at the southern end of the Loop, which for decades virtually halted the expansion of the business district southward as the city grew in population and prominence on the world stage. But the train traffic entering and exiting those six terminals put Chicago on the map as the busisest transportation hub in the world, a title Chicago proudly proclaimed for decades, even after passenger train traffic had been replaced by air travel. Thirty-five years after Dearborn Station’s opening, plans were afoot to move the lines using the terminal into a new central station. One proposal called for a massive passenger terminal at State & 12th Street, consolidating the lines that fed into the La Salle Street, Grand Central, Union and Dearborn Street stations. In December 1922, after a fire completely destroyed the roof of the Dearborn Street depot, it seemed like consolidating move was imminent. But then the insurers of the badly burnt station paid for the loss, the railroad repaired the damage, and the station continued to serve pasengers until rail passenger service in the United States had declined to such an extent that the federal government created Amtrak to try and save the industry from complete obliteration. Developers, with the help of the city, purchased the now defunct depot known as the Polk Street Station and the acres of rail lines extending from it, and today the Dearborn Park residential development sits where tracks once sat, and the station serves as an entry portal to an office and shopping arcade. It is the oldest serving remnant of Chicago’s heyday as the world’s busiest passenger rail hub.

 

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John G. Garibaldi House

[John G. Garibaldi House (1887) / Image & Artwork: designslinger]

In 1808 New Yorker John Jacob Astor began a business called the American Fur Company which 10 years later dominated the fur market around the Great Lakes, including the southern edge of Lake Michigan in and around the U.S. government outpost of Fort Dearborn. By the 1830 Astor had cornered the fur market in North America and had become America’s wealthiest resident. It was also around this time that he ditched the fur business and got into the real estate market, primarily in his home city but also in the tiny hamlet of Chicago. By the time Astor died in 1848, Chicago had become a city and Astor’s property would forever be recorded on plat maps as Astor’s Addition to Chicago. But who reads plat maps. However, when the city and its developers scooped-out neighborhood streets through Astor’s Addition they named one of the avenues for the fur trader, so his name lived-on in Chicago in a much more obvious and less plat-obscure way.

[John G. Garibaldi House, 1236 N. Astor Street, Chicago / Image & Artwork: designslinger]

When John G. Garibaldi decided to build a single family home on the street in 1886, Astor was becoming known as a street where men of means could show that they had crossed the class line from middle to upper. Garibaldi was a Genoese who came to Chicago as a young man and settled in the northern Italian immigrant community that had established itself in the area just north of today’s Merchandise Mart building. In 1879 Garibaldi and his neighbor Joseph Arata started a wholesale fruit and nut distribution company and were joined by another neighbor, Andrew Cuneo. Cuneo’s father Giovanni (John) B. Cuneo had immigrated from the Genoese region of Italy as well and had come to Chicago in the late 1850s with his wife and two sons in tow. Cuneo opened a grocery store, invested any savings he had in real estate, and bought-up even more property after the Chicago Fire. He and his wife Catherine set about raising their six children in an apartment building at the southwest corner of Franklin and Illinois Streets, whose apartments in 1880 also included families like the Aratas and Arados.

[John G. Garibaldi House, Gold Coast National Historic District / Image & Artwork: designslinger]

1880 was also the year that Andrew’s younger brother Frank joined Garibaldi & Arata, and in 1882 Garibaldi & Arata became Garibaldi & Cuneo. To tighten the bond even further, John Garibaldi married Frank and Andrew’s younger sister Theresa in 1884 making the Cuneos and Garibaldi brothers-in-law. Then another Cuneo brother decided to get into the wholesale fruit business, so Andrew left the partnership with John and Frank and joined with his brother Lawrence to found Cuneo Brothers, and Frank and John went on to become the largest wholesale banana importers in the United States. All the fruit and nut familial connections got even more confusing when Garibaldi and the Cuneo brothers each named a son John, Andrew, Frank or Lawrence between them.

[John G. Garibaldi House, Astor Street Historic District / Image & Artwork: designslinger]

There weren’t a lot of houses on Astor Street in 1886 when Garibaldi purchased the corner lot at Scott and Astor Streets. The area from Division Street to North Avenue, and Lake Shore Drive to State Street, was sparsely populated. The lot Garibaldi purchased did have a small frame house at the west edge of the property line, so he tore that down and got to work erecting a much more sunstantial tw0-story brick dwelling. He used his ever increasing income to invest in real estate just as his father-in-law had done before him, and by the time of his death in his home on January 29, 1917 at age 68, he was a very wealthy man. His widow Theresa survived him, as did his five sons and two daughters, one of whom had married Count Guilio Bolognese.

[John G. Garibaldi House, Astor Street, Chicago / Image & Artwork: designslinger]

Sixty-eight-year-old Theresa Cuneo Garibaldi died in the home she had shared with her husband at 1236 N. Astor Street in 1933. The Garibaldi sons, like their father and grandfather Cuneo before them, became actively involved in the real estate business. Their father’s vast portfolio included the Garibaldi Apartments on the corner of Rush and Walton Streets, and in 1955 they hired Chicago architect Bertrand Goldberg to design a two-story commercial office building for the site. In 1957 the brothers decided that the home they had grown up in was not worth the real estate it was sitting on and asked Goldberg to design a, much more profitable, modern apartment tower for the Astor and Scott Street corner. It was a period of another great transformation in the history the Gold Coast neighborhood. Large single family homes had begun to be replaced by tall apartment towers as early as the 1920s, but once the Great Depression set-in, followed by the Second World War, construction of  large apartment blocks had ground to a halt. But the booming post-war, 1950s economy brought in a wave of new apartment tower construction that dwarfed the transformative years of the late 20s. The Garibaldis never built their high-rise apartment building, but Goldberg would go on to design a tower just up the street at Astor and Goethe.

See a few some early, tall building construction on Astor at: McConnell Apartments, Chicago; 1201 N. Astor Street Apartments; 1260 N. Astor Street, Chicago; 1301 N. Astor Streeet, Chicago; and over on State Parkway the relatively connected: Cuneo Family House.

 

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Second Leiter Building – Robert Morris University

[Second Leiter Building - Robert Morris University (1891) William Le Baron Jenney, Jenney & Mundie, architects /Image & Artwork: designslinger]

When Chicago businessman and real estate entrepreneur Levi Z. Leiter purchased the southeast corner of State and Van Buren Streets in 1881, he was buying a piece of Chicago pop culture history. Back when the interesction was so far out-of-town that it was barely recognizable as an intersection, William Bross put his in-town, wood-framed house on wheels and rolled it down the mud rut that eventually became State Street and planted his house at the corner of  Van Buren. He decided to leave it sitting on its wheel base so as to prevent the home from sinking into the mud, and his story became one of those often repeated early Chicago urban legends.

[Second Leiter Building - Robert Morris Univeristy, 403 S. State Street, Chicago /Image & Artwork: designslinger]

By the time Leiter purchased the property from Henry C. Rew in February, 1881 Gross’s house was long gone, the Chicago Fire had burned through the area and there was a post-fire commercial property standing on the corner. Leiter had just ended his long-time and very profitable realtionship as Marshall Field’s retail partner. He was done with the day-to-day grind of  Field Leiter & Co. and ready to grow his large bank account with investments in real estate, railroads, banks, and Chicago’s emerging rapid transit system.

[Second Leiter Building - Robert Morris University, National Historic Landmark, Chicago /Image & Artwork: designslinger]

Leiter’s purchase comprised a parcel that consumed one-half of the block frontage running south along State Street from Van Buren, and over the next eight years, piece-by-piece, purchased the remaining frontage south to Congress Street. As a stockholder in the Chicago City Railway Company which took over the Chicago and South Side Rapid Transit Elevated Railway, Leiter may have known, or played a role in, having the Loop terminus of the south side line end at Congress Street, abutting the southern edge land investment – or perhaps it was pure coincidence.  He then got to work on improving the block-long property and hired one of the city’s most promiment and developer friendly architects William Le Baron Jenney. Leiter had already worked with Jenney on another piece of downtown commercial real estate the dry-goods-merchant-turned-venture-capitalist had constructed in 1879 at the corner of  Wells and Monroe Street. Jenney produced a building that was Miesian before Mies. The architect opened up the spans between supporting piers as far as technology would allow and filled the open bays of the loft-style building with panes of glass that would help plant the seeds of the future revolutionary style that became known as the Chicago School. In the Second Leiter building Jenney would do much of the same.

[Second Leiter Building - Robert Morris University, City of Chicago Landmark /Image & Artwork: designslinger]

The Second Leiter was much larger than the first and included structural innovations that Jenney came to use in other projects, like his renowned Home Insurance Building. Jenney had also been working with an industrious young man named William Mundie, who would become a full partner in Jenney’s firm and have his name added to the door by the time the State Street Leiter building was completed in 1891. The building was bare bones structurally. The minimal yet strong, supporting metal frame allowed for an open flexible interior, and as with the First Leiter, large, 16-foot-high window bay openings were filled with glass. Plus, the frame and foundations were able to handle the two stories Leiter eventually added to the original seven. The grey granite exterior was heavy and hefty looking, far beyond any structural requirement, but it gave the building substance and attracted the attention of Siegel, Cooper & Co. Siegel & Cooper already had a presence in a retail emporium located at the corner of Adams and Wabash, but in August 1891, just as construction was winding-up on Levi Leiter’s latest investment, Siegel, Copper & Co. nearly burned to the ground. After surveying the damage they renegotiated the lease on their burned-out corner lot, then in an abrupt about-face, leased the 12-acre, 538,620 sqaure-foot Leiter building for a term of ten years at $280,000 per anum, joining a long line of large-square-foot consuming retailers that stretched along Chicago’s retail mecca, where they remained for another 16 years.

[Second Leiter Building - Robert Morris University, Loop Retail Historic District, Chicago /Image & Artwork: designslinger]

By the time Siegel, Cooper vacated the premises in 1917 Levi Leiter was dead, and his son Joseph was overseeing his father’s vast estate. Joe Leiter got in touch with Bill Mundie who had taken over the architectural firm from Mr. Jenney, with the intent of using that flexibly-partionable interior space to its best advantage by creating an indoor shopping mall of a sort. Instead of looking for one tenant to take over the whole building, Joe’s idea was to lease space to a variety of retail tenants and create a kind of indoor shopping arena. It didn’t work out as well as Joe had hoped. Then in the early 1930s just as the Great Depression was really beginning to place the U.S. economy in a stranglehold, Sears Roebuck & Co. decided to take over the entire Leiter property and open their first downtown Chicago retail location. The grand opening on March 1, 1932 was so overwhelmingly successful, drawing tens of thousands of shoppers in one day, that Sears took out a full page ad in the Chicago Tribune on March 4th with a prominent banner exclaiming “Thank You Chicago!” The good times for Sears on State lasted until the early 1980′s when many of the large State Street department stores began folding up their tents and vacating what had once been the city’s primary retail destination. In 1998 Robert Morris College moved into Jenney’s adaptable building and continues to occupy the massive structure today as Robert Morris University.

See more of William Le Baron Jenney and William Mundie at: Manhattan Building; Ludington Building; New York Life Insurance Building, Chicago; 19 S. La Salle Street/Association Building; Morton Building, Chicago.

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Stewart Apartments – 1200 N. Lake Shore Drive


[Stewart Apartments - 1200 N. Lake Shore Drive (1913) Marshall & Fox, architects /Image & Artwork: designslinger]

On June 22, 1913 architect and real estate developer Benjamin Marshall authored a column in the Chicago Tribune titled, “Apartment More Like Residence.” He was letting Tribune readers know that a “new scheme” for apartment living was on the horizon for the monied class, apartments that would fulfill all the requirements of a large single family home but in a more contemporary and economical venue. It was time to shed Granny’s bulky, old, 15,000-sqaure-foot, multi-storied dwelling for a 5- or even 10,0000-square-foot apartment, wrapped in an elegant exterior facade with luxurious and sophisticated multi-roomed interiors. And plenty of room for servants.


[Stewart Apartments - 1200 N. Lake Shore Drive, Chicago /Image & Artwork: designslinger]

Chicago businessman John K. Stewart apparently felt that Marshall knew what he was talking about. In October of 1912 Stewart purchased one of those big old houses which had been standing on the northwest corner of Lake Shore Drive and Division Street since 1883. Emily and Samuel Gross had purchased the Burnham & Root designed house from James Charnley who eventually built a house on nearby Astor Street, and when Stewart bought the house from Emily in 1912, instead of moving in, he decided to tear it down.


[Stewart Apartments - 1200 N. Lake Shore Drive, Near North Side, Chicago /Image & Artwork: designslinger]

Stewart hired Marshall, who was busy designing and developing “new scheme” housing for the upper class along Lake Shore Drive and the city’s near north side Gold Coast community, to design a building for Stewart that would attract the exact type of clientle that the architect was talking about. Marshall came up with a 12-story tower that would fill the entire corner lot and contain 10 floor through apartments each with a Grand Salon, Salle A Manger, L’ Orangerie, Bibliotheque, a Chambre for Madame, one for Monsieur, three Chambre A’ Coucher, five Chambre for the Domestique, and six Salon de Basin. Plus the requisite kitchen, butler’s pantry, reception halls, and storage. If you required more rooms for staff the top floor and the bottom two floors of the building were also set aside for servants quarters should you need them, and a playroom on the top floor was created for the tenant’s children and grandchildren, when they came for a visit.


[Stewart Apartments - 1200 Lake Shore Drive, Gold Coast, Chicago /Image & Artwork: designslinger]

Stewart didn’t move in, but he did find tenants who were ready to shed the trappings of old world living for something new and modern. The building attracted interest among residents of the now fading but formerly glorious Prairie Avenue. Once home to a majority of Chicago’s wealthiest and most formidable citizenry, the south side residential district surrounding “the street where the elite meet” had been undergoing a transformation ever since Potter Palmer and people like the James Charnleys had decided to move north. There were still hold outs in the first decade of the 1900s, but everyone could see the handwriting on the walls of their once glamorous residences. The John Mitchells, the Chauncey Keeps and the James Thornes, left the dusty, smoky, and industrializing shores of their south side community for a fresh, new way of life at 1200 Lake Shore Drive. Two years after the first tenants moved into the Stewart Apartments, A. Watson Armour of the meat packing family decided to join his former Prairie Avenue neighbors leaving his mother behind, content to still live in her massive, old-fashioned, single-family Prairie Avenue home.


[Stewart Apartments - 1200 Lake Shore Drive, Chicago /Image & Artwork: designslinger]

Even with rents in the $5,000 to $6,000 per month range it was still cheaper and much easier to maintain a 10,000-square-foot apartment rather than a similarly-sized single family home. Only living “in town” for a few months out of every year, it was much easier to lock the door and leave behind your doorman-maned apartment building for the four months of winter in Florida or California and the four months of summer in Lake Forest, Lake Geneva, or Bar Harbor, than it was to lock-up the old house for eight months. Eventually however the luxe life that the Stewart Apartments offered at 1200 Lake Shore Drive came to an end. The Thornes and Armours would join the Fields and Wrigleys at what would become one of  the city’s most exclusive high-rise addresss at 1500 Lake Shore Drive when the building was completed in 1929. The Stewart was divided into smaller and smaller sized dwelling units, and Marshall’s ten 10,000- square-foot apartments were eventually divvied-up into 40+ units. In 2009 the building underwent a $6 million exterior renovation which revealed the very non-glamorous steel structure that supported all of Marshall’s non-structural Adams-style inspired decor. Some of the apartments have grown back to their near original size, but instead of renting, you now have to buy since 1200 Lake Shore Drive is a condominium.

Well, this is our first post with our new host. Hopefully it made it out to all our subscribers, Facebook and Twitter followers, and everyone in between!

 

Posted in 20th Century Bldgs., Preservation | Tagged , , , , , , , | 4 Comments

Methodist Book Concern Building


[Methodist Book Concern Building (1916) /Image & Artwork: designslinger]

Moving is never easy, and when the Chicago-based regional jurisdiction of the
       Methodist Episcopal Church announced that some of their offices were going to be consolidated into one new structure on the northwest corner of Superior and Rush streets in 1914, not everyone was happy.


[Methodist Book Concern Building, 740 N. Rush Street, Chicago /Image & Artwork: designslinger]

The reason for the move was that the lease on the building the Church had been renting on South Wabash Avenue was about to expire. The Wabash Avenue building housed the offices of auxiliary church departments as well as the operations of the Methodist Book Concern, and while disgruntled ministers had no problem moving the publishing concern all the way to Rush and Superior, they saw no reason for other departments to be sent off into the hinterlands of the city’s near north side.


[Methodist Book Concern Building, Near North Side, Chicago /Image & Artwork: designslinger]

The new location, had been, until very recently, the long time home of Chicago’s    Fourth Presbyterian Church. The Presbyterian’s Romanesque meets Gothic church building had occupied the corner at Rush and Superior since the 1870s but the former residential neighborhood had changed, and when Fourth Church’s new building on Michigan Avenue was ready for occupancy in May 1914, the old church was torn down, and the Methodist’s purchased the soon-to-be-vacant corner lot in September.


[Methodist Book Concern Building, Rush Street, Chicago /Image & Artwork: designslinger]

The Book Concern had been around for a long time. Founded in 1789, it was
the nation’s oldest continuously operating publication house. The Concern imprint was not only responsible for producing religiously focused tomes, but printed works of fiction, non-fiction, children’s books, school books and periodicals. They also operated book stores around the country, which not only sold books with their own imprint on the title page, but other publisher’s works as well – this was a multi-million dollar operation. When the 125 foot by 125 foot, 4-story, brick-columned Chicago branch office opened in 1916 it contained not only the Concern’s printing presses and publishing offices, but also included the offices of several disgruntled ministerial department heads.


[Methodist Book Concern Building, Chicago /Image & Artwork: designslinger]

On May 28, 1920 the Chicago Tribune reported that the Concern was planning an     addition to the west of their square 125×125 foot building, designed by architect H.B. Wheelock. And anticipating future growth, the foundation of the four-story annex would be constructed so that, if need be, an additional two-stories could be built at a later date. It took six years before a $450,000 annex made its debut in May 1926, and the Book Concern and auxiliary church offices occupied the Rush and Superior building for nearly 50 years. After serving as the headquarters of Crain Communications until 2001, the first floor of the former printing plant became the flagship location of the Giordano’s Pizza enterprise. But as with all living breathing urban environments, change may becoming once again to the former site of Fourth Presbyterian’s corner location. As Chicago froze in the polar vortex of January 2014, developers announced their intentions to build a tall, slim-towered hotel on the site of the 1920s annex and into the western half of square corner building. While the plan called for the complete demolition of the 20s-era building and a portion of the Book Concern, the proposal did call for the preservation of 3-bays of the brick, engaged-column colonnade along Superior Street, and the entire Rush Street facade. Public hearings will be held, neighborhood residents have begun a petition drive to stop the project, and the old Methodist Book Concern Building may eventually lose its symmetrically square profile for a truncated rectangular face.

Our move to a new hosting service is progressing, but there are still a few things that need to be worked-out, like moving our subscriber list with us. We’ll keep you posted.

And see another brick colonnaded structure at: Platt Luggage Building; a towering house of worship at: Chicago Temple – First United Methodist Church; and a few nearby Superior and Rush Street neighbors at: Holy Name Cathedral; St. James Cathedral, Chicago.

Posted in 20th Century Bldgs., Adaptive Reuse | Tagged , , , , | 2 Comments