Now part of the Conroy Early Childhood Center, this old school hovers between classical and Romanesque styles, which means that perhaps the best term for it is Rundbogenstil, the word old Pa Pitt most likes to pronounce in public.
Since it has been made an annex of a larger building, it no longer requires its main entrance, which leads to this architectural dissonance:
Since we mentioned the smaller King Edward Annex a couple of days ago when we looked at the old King Edward Apartments, here it is. The city’s architectural inventory (PDF) dates it at about 1925 (Update: This is a little too early; see below), which seems plausible. It looks a bit worn, and the top of the building is definitely not the way the architect imagined it. But it still has a restrained dignity, especially if we ignore the missing cornice. Old Pa Pitt has a suspicion that average Americans simply don’t see the tops of buildings, so when they are mutilated no one but Father Pitt notices.
Addendum: The King Edward Annex was built in about 1927; the architects were Hannah and Sterling. Source: The Charette, Vol. 7, No. 2 (February 1927): “209. Architect: Hannah & Sterling, 209-9th Street, Pittsburgh, Pa. Owner Arthur McSorley. Title: Apartment House. Owner now taking bids. Location: Melwood Street, Pittsburgh. Approximate size: 28 apartments; four stories, fireproof. Cubage: 300.000 ft.”
This modest Tudor Gothic church, probably built in the 1890s, is another one to add to our collection of churches with the sanctuary upstairs. It is now the Bethesda Temple.
The parsonage is in an extraordinarily rich and accurate Tudor style for such a small house. Compare the details to this medieval house in Canterbury.
Addendum: It appears from the Inland Architect and News Record for July, 1900, that the architect of the house was the extraordinary John T. Comès, working for Beezer Brothers. The design was featured in the Pittsburgh Architectural Club’s exhibition that year:
Mr. John T. Comes renders an admirable Pastor’s Residence for “First Brethren Church,” by Beezer Brothers, which leans hard to an old church and breaks away from the sidewalk in a most happy manner, winding up the stone stairs to a reserved and “strong door.” The drawing itself is a happy one. The pots on the chimney are swelling beyond redemption.
In the magazine Architecture we find the sketch our critic was describing:
The chimney pots (were they really beyond redemption?) are gone, and the porch is a later replacement. But Comès’ design is still striking.
The Richard King Mellon Hall of Science was designed by Ludwig Mies van der Rohe, and is therefore a black box on stilts. Old Pa Pitt sometimes makes fun of Mies’ black boxes on stilts, but he means it good-naturedly. The colonnades of stilts have a job, and they do it well. They humanize some inhumanly large buildings by creating a human-sized interface between building and street. They also create an expansive outdoor space that is out of the rain and snow, but still open to the world. Here we see a good use of that space, with tables being set up for graduation festivities.
Convallaria majalis is a popular planting everywhere, and it persists and spreads indefinitely once planted. These are semi-wild descendants of a planting in Beechview that is at least decades old.
There are two apartment buildings called King Edward in Oakland (plus a small “annex” on Melwood Avenue). The more visible one, the King Edward Apartments on Craig Street at Bayard, was built in 1929. The original King Edward, built in 1914, is behind on Melwood Avenue at Bayard Street. It seems much more staid than its larger neighbor, until we look closer and discover that it is festooned with these grotesque faces.
Addendum: The architect was H. G. Hodgkins, who also designed Hampton Hall, another Merrie England fantasy.