
Views of St. Bernard Church on a slightly snowy winter day.

The deep green of holly leaves adds a somber but hopeful note to winter in the Mount Lebanon Cemetery.

Louis Sullivan was of the opinion that Daniel Burnham’s success in the classical style was a great blow to American architecture. But what could be more American than a Burnham skyscraper? Like America, it melds its Old World influences into an entirely new form, in its way as harmonious and dignified as a Roman basilica, but without qualification distinctly American.

In the late 1970s, artists began to take over the vacant Duquesne Brewery. Now (after many battles over ownership) it has been renovated as artists’ lofts and studios.




The Roberts Building was put up for a jeweler, and its gem-like attention to detail seems appropriate.

Some of the happiest carved lions in Pittsburgh adorn the cornice.

These decorative tiles suggest the jeweler’s art.
An amusing game to play with out-of-town visitors is to offer to show them an invisible building. Explain that you will make an invisible building visible before their eyes; then take them to the northeast corner of Wood Street and Forbes Avenue. Ask your visitors to describe the building on the opposite corner. They will almost invariably describe the Roberts Building. Then explain that they have described, not the building on the corner, but the building next to it. The building on the corner is invisible to them, because their brains have no category for a building that is five feet two inches wide.

This is the Skinny Building, and once it has revealed itself to you, you will see that it is indeed a completely different building. It was built as an act of spite by a property owner whose property was rendered apparently worthless by street widening. The ground floor usually sells T-shirts and Pittsburgh souvenirs; various attempts are made at various times to find a use for the upper floors.
Addendum: The architect of the Roberts Building was George M. Rowland; it was built in 1925.1

Doors and doorframes often have elaborate carvings on the South Side, but not many stoops have elaborate decorations like these, either carved or stamped into the concrete.

The back side of the People’s Savings Bank building is merely functional, except for this curious stairwell, whose bronze cap seems to have flown in from another and much more fantastical world.

This oddly domestic-looking storefront is made for a high-class tenant, and has found the perfect match in Heinz Healey’s haberdashery. The building was designed by Alden & Harlow, whose usual good taste is apparent.

This rehabilitated pair of bridges gets its name from the fact that the downstream span was used to transport hot metal across the river between the two sections of the giant J&L steel plant. The upstream span (which technically used to be the Monongahela Connecting Railroad Bridge) is now open to automobile traffic; the downstream span is reserved for bicycles.
Although official records spell this “Hot Metal Bridge,” it is always pronounced “Hotmetal Bridge,” with the accent on the first syllable.

This is classicism walking the knife edge between Art Deco on the one side and modernism on the other. The architect was George H. Schwan, a Pittsburgher who was a much-employed designer of attractive smaller houses as well as churches, school, and commercial buildings: his most famous commission was designing practically all the original buildings in the model Akron suburb of Goodyear Heights.
Addendum: The article has been rewritten because Father Pitt knows of many more works by Schwan than he did when he wrote the original article. See the Great Big List of Buildings and Architects for old Pa Pitt’s latest research.
