Murdoch Farms is the plan in Squirrel Hill famous for millionaires’ mansions, but this is the middle-class corner of it. The houses here were also designed by some of our prominent architects, but on a more modest scale. We haven’t identified most of them yet, but we’ll point out the architects we know.
Ingham & Boyd were the architects of this very respectable French cottage overlooking Wilkins Avenue from a little service road.1 It was built for W. A. Steinmeyer, vice-president of the Allemannia Fire Insurance Company of Pittsburgh. The placement of the entrance at the left instead of in the center is uncharacteristic of the architects, and we can only assume that some desirable interior arrangement made it worth departing from their usual rule of exact symmetry.
Source: The American Contractor, July 12, 1924. “Res.: $25.000. 2½ sty. & bas. Irreg. Approx. 43×68. Brk. on h. t. 5324 Wilkins av. Archt. Ingram [sic] & Boyd, Empire bldg. Owner Wm. A. Steinmeyer, vice-pres., The Allemannia Fire Insurance Co., 7 Wood st. Gen. contr. let to Hugh Boyce, 1719 Meadville st.” There is no house at 5324, but the lot at 5320 is shown as belonging to W. A. Steinmetz [sic] in 1923. Polk’s City Directory for 1926 shows W. A. Steinmeyer living at 5324 Wilkins Avenue; by 1939 the address of this house is 5320 on the Hopkins plat map. The next address after 5320 on Wilkins Avenue is 5392. ↩︎
The garage next to the Morrowfield (both designed by J. E. Dwyer) is a utilitarian building, but it has some virtues. First of all, it continues the line of shops at ground level, so that it does not kill a whole section of commercial street the way large parking garages often do. Second, the rhythm of window and wall is right. It’s not an inspired design, perhaps, but it does not strike us as a sudden interruption of the cityscape. The tile decorations at the top and the little tile diamonds scattered like snowflakes all over the front add visual interest, even if they are not terribly artistic. The same decorative scheme is carried on in the rear, where for both the apartment building and the garage Mr. Dwyer decided to treat the back-alley side as a second front.
The striking feature of this modernist synagogue is the huge relief over the entrance that symbolically depicts the Twelve Tribes of Israel surrounding the Tablets of the Law. The architects were Ben Friedman and Nathan Cantor, although Father Pitt has not yet sorted out whether they worked together or at different times.
Ground was broken for the first part of the building on April 20, 1947; first services were conducted September 3, 1948. Ground for the Rabbi Sivitz Memorial Talmud Torah and Main Building was broken August 17, 1952; it was dedicated on August 27, 1955.
This preliminary sketch for the synagogue was published on the cover of the Jewish Criterion, August 23, 1946. The sketch is quite different from the building as it stands, but obviously an early stage in the evolution of the same idea. Through the halftoning, we can just make out the name “Friedman” in the signature.
The symbols are taken from the prophecy of Jacob in Genesis 49:
Reuben, unstable as water;
Simeon and Levi: instruments of cruelty are in their habitations (but Simeon’s sword is mitigated by a wreath of olive, and Levi later became the priestly class, and thus is represented by a swinging censer);
Judah is a lion’s whelp;
Zebulun shall be for an haven of ships;
Issachar is a strong ass, crouching down between two burdens;
Dan shall be a serpent in the way, an adder in the path, that biteth the horse’ heels, so that his rider shall fall backward;
Gad, a troupe shall overcome him, but he shall overcome at the last;
Out of Asher his bread shall be fat, and he shall yield royal dainties;
Naphthali is a hind let loose;
Joseph is a fruitful bough, even a fruitful bough by a well, whose branches run over the wall;
Since it was built as public housing and opened in 1973, and since it bears a strong resemblance to his many other public-housing projects, Father Pitt does not hesitate to assign this building to Tasso Katselas, the king of public works in Pittsburgh.
This quiet enclave of small apartment buildings is part of the same “city set on a hill” development as the Morrowfield, and the buildings were probably also designed by J. E. Dwyer. They’re fairly ordinary Pittsburgh buildings of the early 1920s, Mission style with a bit of Romanesque thrown in. They look their best in black and white.
These two identical fantasy-Tudor apartment buildings at the corner of Morrowfield and Shady Avenues were built in 1929. Father Pitt does not know the architect, but they are very similar to apartment buildings built at the same time in Mount Lebanon and associated with Charles Geisler. Since Geisler worked on other buildings in Squirrel Hill, he is a likely candidate.
Advertisement from the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette, September 18, 1929.
We have the technology to take those utility cables out of the picture, but in this case not the patience.
This beautiful building shows some obvious influence from Henry Hornbostel’s famous Rodef Shalom, but it is original enough to be called a tribute rather than an imitation. The architects were Charles J. and Chris Rieger, and it is a backhanded compliment to these underappreciated brothers that some of their best works have been misattributed to more famous architects. This building in particular is usually attributed to Alexander Sharove, but we are quite sure that the Riegers designed it.1 The cornerstone was laid in 1928, and the building was dedicated in September of 1929.
The entrance, which is where the Hornbostel influence is most obvious, is a feast of polychrome terra cotta and stained glass.
Once again our frequent correspondent David Schwing has spotted something important and delightful: a previously unidentified work by Elise Mercur, Pittsburgh’s first female architect. It’s been sitting right there in the open, but nothing on the Internet has pointed out its significance.
Mercur was a fascinating character. At a time when women as architects were almost unheard of, she was getting big commissions and supervising crews of men who knew they had better not cross her. (See the picture above: would you want to get that look from your boss?)
She first came to national attention when she beat twelve other competitors with her design for the Woman’s Building at the Cotton States and International Exposition in Atlanta in 1895. The decision of the committee was unanimous: she blew the other competitors away.
These renderings were printed in a big architectural magazine, which picked them up from another big architectural magazine. They were also front-page news in Atlanta, and of course in Pittsburgh. The Inland Architect and News Record accompanied them with this brief introduction to the architect:
Miss Elise Mercur, architect, Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. Of thirteen designs submitted, hers was considered of the highest merit and was accepted. As a preparation for her professional life Miss Mercur studied four years at the Philadelphia Academy of Fine Arts and subsequently continued her artistic studies in Germany. The lady has been a resident of Pittsburgh for four years and has been engaged upon practical architectural work in the office of Architect Thomas Boyd, whose foreman she now is. Miss Mercur assisted in the preparation of the plans for the new city Poor Buildings at Marshalsea and superintended their erection.
Thomas Boyd was a very prosperous architect in those days, and we must give him credit for recognizing ability when he saw it. It took courage to make a woman his construction foreman, but Mercur was up to the task.
Soon she had a prospering practice of her own, and she insisted on being in every way equal to a male architect.
For doing men’s work I always insist upon getting men’s prices. I never accept an assignment for less than 5 per cent. I never have any trouble. Contractors who have worked under me know that I won’t stand any ‘monkeying’ and do not try to fool me with poor material, careless work, &c. While I am willing to do what is right, I generally make them live up to the specifications, and any work done improperly has to be gone over again. (Mercur quoted in “Pittsburg’s Woman Architect,” New York World, January 9, 1898.)
Much of her work was academic—dormitories and classroom buildings for colleges. And that explains why most of it is gone. College presidents hate old buildings, because they stand in the way of big donors’ vanity projects, and college presidents are generally hired for their ability to round up big donors, not for their sensitivity to the architectural heritage of the campus. As far as we know, all of Mercur’s academic buildings have been demolished, some fairly recently. In fact, until a little while ago the only remaining building by Mercur known to exist was St. Paul’s Episcopal Church in the Hill District. But now we have a fine house whose identification rests on solid ground.
Dr. William H. Mercur has purchased a choice plot on Fifth avenue, opposite Lilac street, as a site for a new home. The lot measures 50×200 feet, and it belonged to Charles D. Callery. The price paid was $10,000 cash, or $200 a foot. Mrs. Elsie Mercur-Wagner is making plans for a $15,000 brick dwelling which is to be erected on the property within the next few months. (“Real Estate Transactions,” Pittsburg Press, April 27, 1900, p. 14.)
By this time Mercur was married and using the name Wagner along with her own. We may point out in passing that the name “Elise” was unusual enough that almost half the construction listings misspell it as “Elsie.” Dr. William H. Mercur was her brother, and we imagine he was quite pleased with the house his sister built for him.
“Lilac Street” in the listing is now St. James, and the location “opposite Lilac street” makes the house easy to find. Plat maps shortly after the house was built show it as belonging to M. S. Mercur (probably William’s wife; property was often put in the name of the wife). In 1923, it still belonged to M. S. Mercur. It is on the side of Fifth Avenue that is counted as Squirrel Hill by city planning maps, but traditionally both sides of the street were “Shadyside,” and the Mercurs were rubbing elbows with some very rich people in the Shadyside millionaires’ row.
By comparing this lot with the one next to it, we can see that the lot level was originally above the garage doors. The front yard has been dug away to make space for driveway and garages. Much of the distinctive detail of the house has been preserved, however, and we hope the owners realize that they possess a rare treasure.