
The Gateway station is a feast of strange and slightly unsettling angles. If you like eating angles.
The Gateway station is a feast of strange and slightly unsettling angles. If you like eating angles.
A 1960 skyscraper by the prolific Harrison & Abramovitz (who also gave us the U. S. Steel Tower, the Westinghouse Building, and the Alcoa Building). Father Pitt thinks it looks better as an architect’s rendering than in person. He has therefore made his photograph (merged from three separate photographs) look as much like an architect’s rendering as possible.
An update: When Father Pitt first posted this article, the pictures were distorted. That was because old Pa Pitt had not figured out how to choose the proper projection in the Hugin panorama software. What a difference it makes!
By stitching together multiple photographs, we get these impossibly wide-angled views of St. Paul’s Cathedral in Oakland. Since the street in front is busy, we also get some ghost figures on the sidewalk and ghost vehicles driving past.
Updated update: The link in the comment by “Zak” no longer works, but you can see a fine hand-colored version of this image here.
This is the same photograph, but note how the debris at the bottom has been edited out. Yes, people could do that before Photoshop. There is also a photograph from the side.
From the vanished page to which Zak referred we learned that this house burned in 1913; it would have been on the Pittsburgh side of the river opposite where the Waterfront is now. The contractors who moved the house, John Eichelay Jr. Co., specialized in moving buildings, though even they considered this one a remarkable feat. The same company, in 1945, got the contract for moving the first atom bomb.
For historical reasons, we keep the original version of the article below.
From the Booklovers Magazine in 1904. Can anyone identify this house or its exact location? The text below is all Father Pitt has to go on, which tells us that it is somewhere in the Mon Valley near Pittsburgh, but not exactly where. We do not know, for example, whether “about ten miles from Pittsburgh” means ten miles along the river or ten miles as the crow flies. Ten miles along the river would put the house in Homestead or thereabouts.
Doughboy Square (named, of course, for the splendid statue of a World War I soldier) has always had the potential to be an impressive space, the gateway to Lawrenceville. But it suffered decades of neglect; in fact, it never really recovered from the Great Depression. Now, at last, the triangle (no, of course it isn’t really a square; this is Pittsburgh) is seeing a revival, with old buildings refurbished and new and architecturally sympathetic buildings put up, joining the newly trendy Lower Lawrenceville district. A good bit of the credit for the revival goes to the Desmone architectural firm, which saw the potential in the long-abandoned Pennsylvania National Bank building and restored it while the rest of Doughboy Square was mostly vacant.
Not all the waterfalls were frozen. These were moving, and we present them with sound—just two minutes of water burbling through the winter forest.
Melting and freezing produced these frozen waterfalls in the Kane Woods Nature Area, Scott Township.
A grey day, and the U. S. Steel Tower has its head in the clouds, as it often has. Below we see the frozen back channel of the Allegheny at Herr’s Island (or Washington’s Landing).
This church sits on one of those impossibly narrow Pittsburgh streets, and it would have been very difficult to get a picture of the whole front this way without the marvels of Hugin stitching technology. A little wide-angle distortion makes the pinnacles turn inward, but overall this is a very good representation of the front of the building. It is no longer a church; now it is an apartment building, but either an appreciation of the architecture or a limited budget has kept the current owners from making any significant changes to the exterior.