A trio of bay-fronted apartment buildings on Jackson Street. The design is not out of the ordinary, but it is a neat and elegant implementation of the ordinary. The bays, as Father Pitt likes to point out, are not mere decoration: they really do suck in the light, which is valuable for people who like natural light.
The patchwork-quilt style of architecture has been popular in the last decade, but this is by far the most colorful implementation of it old Pa Pitt has seen. The whole block that includes the New Granada has been redeveloped, and these cheerful apartments, with ground-floor storefronts, make this section of the Hill seem lively and inviting again.
When we last saw this triple building, it was getting a fresh coat of paint. The new color scheme looks much better, and old Pa Pitt offers his congratulations to the people with taste at Mozart Management.
The three connected buildings were put up in 1901 as the Howard, the Delaware, and the Norfolk, and we can just barely make out the ghosts of the inscriptions above the entrances. The architect was William E. Snaman.1 The Norfolk, above, preserves the original appearance. In the other two, the balconies have been filled in to make closets, and they looked forbiddingly blank with the old paint scheme; the more artistic new scheme at least emphasizes the surviving trim.
Perhaps not quite as ritzy as they would be in another neighborhood, but for prosperous working-class Brookline this is a fine building. The stone-fronted ground floor is topped by two floors of stone-colored white Kittanning brick, making a rich impression; and clever little decorations made from what look like terra-cotta remnants brighten what might otherwise be a monotonous façade.
The distinctive Flemish gables of these apartments catch our attention as we come down Beacon Street. They were probably designed by Perry & Thomas, a Chicago firm responsible for a number of apartment buildings in Shadyside and Squirrel Hill. Although some ill-advised changes have been made, for the most part the unusual details—Flemish Renaissance filtered through an Art Nouveau lens—have been preserved.
Designed by Tasso Katselas, this 22-storey apartment tower opened in 1962. It has reverted to its original name, Highland House, after some years as “the Park Lane.”
Many projects for skyscraper apartments or hotels were proposed for Highland Park, but this is the only one that ever succeeded. “A dramatic use of the Miesian glass cage formula applied to a 22 story apartment house” was how James D. Van Trump described it in “The Stones of Pittsburgh.” “Located on the edge of Highland Park it seems to float above a nearby reservoir.”
Miesian is a good term for it: the building adopts the colonnade of stilts that became the signature of Ludwig Mies van der Rohe. Many imitators of Mies seem to lose courage and make the peripteral colonnade a narrow and useless space; see, for example, the Westinghouse Building. Katselas, on the other hand, if anything exaggerated the width of the porch, so that the ground floor is reduced to a little entrance cage, leaving a big broad outdoor space under the shelter of twenty-one floors of steel and glass.
This was one of the major developments in postwar Pittsburgh—a $5,500,000 skyscraper apartment house financed by the FHA. Tennyson & Van Wart were the architects—a partnership of Arthur Tennyson, of Mount Lebanon, and John Van Wart, a successful New York architect who had been lured here in the 1930s by a job with Westinghouse. For many decades it has been a hotel under various owners, currently as the Doubletree.
“The Federal Housing Administration has insured a mortgage loan to build a 19-story, H-shaped structure on Webster Ave. on the site of St. Mary’s High School and Home for Girls at Webster Ave. and Tunnel St,” the Press reported.
“It will cost approximately $5½ million and provide housing for 465 families. Construction is expected to begin in June and be completed by June, 1951.”
Mr. Van Wart died unexpectedly in June of 1950, while this building was under construction. Tennyson continued the practice alone, and would end up designing many more modernist apartment blocks in the Pittsburgh area. We’ll see more of his work.
This is a big apartment complex, but it is not nearly as big as it was meant to be.
In the beginning of 1939, an apartment complex was proposed for this land. it would require zoning changes in an area that was mostly single-family houses and mansions, and when residents saw the designs by architect Clifford Lake, there was much loud protest.
It would be a huge complex of interlinked towers, nine storeys high, that would completely change the character of Negley Avenue. “It will be necessary for City Council to change the district from a Class A to a Class C zone before work can be started,” the Press reported.
It was obvious from the reaction that the plans had been far too ambitious. By May, the plans had shrunk. “Original plans for the structure have been scaled down from a nine-story 623-family apartment to the present six-story building, Mr. Lake said.”
But many of the residents nearby were still not satisfied. Give them an inch, they thought, and who knows how many ells they might take?
“You well understand,” said an attorney for the opposing property owners, “that it is impossible under the law to negotiate what kind of structure will be built after the zoning ordinance is passed.
“They propose to change the law so that hotels, educational and charitable institutions, jails and commercial businesses can be placed in a district where these people have built homes.”
It was not until a year later, in 1940, that a building permit was applied for. But the fight wasn’t over. When the zoning law was changed, residents went to court, and they won. Then came the Second World War, which was an even bigger fight than the zoning battle.
Finally, in 1946, the zoning law was changed to permit three-storey apartments in the area, and construction of the reduced complex begin in 1947, finishing in 1948.
Perhaps because of the long fight, the complex makes a surprisingly modest impression from the street. The landscaping is lush and park-like: this complex, like Gateway Center, makes good on the promise of “towers in a park,” although “towers” is a bit generous for buildings with three floors and a high basement.
The buildings themselves are fairly ordinary, not the dream towers Mr. Lake envisioned in 1939. The entrances, however, are decorated in late-Art-Deco fashion to maintain the impression that you are approaching something special.
The sides of the buildings facing the garden court have been given ridiculously narrow cartoon paste-on shutters, which do them no favors. The sides facing the side streets have no shutters and look the way Mr. Lake meant them to look.
Streamlined modernity invades Point Breeze! Although this building has been muddled a little, enough of its distinctive details are intact that it still creates a striking impression as we walk down Thomas Boulevard. Father Pitt loves the rounded corners from the outside, though he might curse them if he lived in those corner apartments.
It is never pleasant, but old Pa Pitt feels as though he has a duty to document things that might be gone soon. Sometimes miracles happen, and we can always hope, but without a miracle we can only turn to the photographs to remember what has vanished.
“Berg Place,” a group of three apartment buildings along Brownsville Road in Carrick, probably cannot be saved. It’s a pity, because the buildings, in a pleasant Arts-and-Crafts style flavored with German Art Nouveau, have a commanding position along the street, and their absence will be felt. They were abandoned a few years ago, probably declared unsafe, and since then they have rotted quickly.
Some of the simple but effective Art Nouveau decorations in brick and stone.
These two buildings across the street from Berg Place, damaged by a fire, may possibly still be saved. At present one of them is condemned, but that is not a death sentence, and it looks as though prompt action was taken to secure the one on the corner after the fire. They are typical of the Mission-style commercial buildings that were popular in Carrick and other South Hills neighborhoods, and they ought to be preserved if at all possible. Carrick is not a prosperous neighborhood, but much of the commercial district is still lively, and with the increase in city property values the repairs might be a good investment.
