Built as a branch bank, this tidy little modernistic building seems to be succeeding in its second life as a little neighborhood grocery. It is one of several “flatiron” buildings in Sheraden, and old Pa Pitt had to stand in the middle of a fairly busy intersection to get this picture of the sharp end:
One of several “flatiron” buildings produced by the irregular street layout of Crafton. This one is odd angles all around.
The main entrance is on the sharp corner facing the intersection of Noble Avenue, Crafton Avenue, and Dinsmore Avenue (which is what we meant when we said Crafton had an irregular street layout).
A segmental pediment—that is, a pediment whose top is a segment of a circle, rather than the more usual triangle.
The side entrance would have led into the upstairs offices: a bank putting up a building like this would expect to make extra income from office rentals, and bank buildings were usually prestigious addresses.
The side of the building not meant to be seen is finished more cheaply.
One of the most imposing-looking banks in the whole Pittsburgh area, this expensive—we had almost said egregiously expensive—Doric pile seems not to be occupied at the moment, but it is in beautiful shape externally. It was still in use as a bank until about six years ago, so it is fully accessible and waiting for the next tenant who needs a building that will knock people’s socks off.
A sharp-looking but still respectable bank in a kind of baroque version of Art Deco. It is no longer a bank, but it is kept in fine condition by the current occupants.
N. G. Pollock of Cleveland was the architect of this small but rich-looking bank, which was built in about 1916.1 It seems likely that some sort of ornate classical crest is missing from the corner above the name “First National Bank,” but otherwise the building is in good condition and still in use as a bank.
Now the Drury Plaza Hotel, this is a splendid example of the far Art Deco end of the style old Pa Pitt calls American Fascist. The original 1931 building, above, was designed by the Cleveland firm of Walker & Weeks, with Hornbostel & Wood as “consulting architects.” It is never clear in the career of Henry Hornbostel how far his “consulting” went: on the City-County Building, for example, “consulting” meant that Hornbostel actually came up with the design, but Edward Lee was given the credit for it; we would not know that Hornbostel drew the plans if Lee himself had not told us.
At any rate, the lively design almost seems like a rebuke to the sternly Fascist Federal Courthouse across the street, which was built at about the same time.
An addition in a similar style looks cheap beside the original; perhaps it would have been better just to admit that the original could not be duplicated and to build the addition in a different style.
You could count on architect Press C. Dowler for the bankiest-looking banks. The correct Ionic front of this one looks almost exactly the way he drew it, as we can see from the architect’s rendering that was published in the Press on February 8, 1931.
It seems to old Pa Pitt that the mark of a Dowler bank is correct classical detail combined with a lack of fussiness. There is never too much detail. But he takes the details seriously. In other buildings he was already adopting Art Deco and modernist styles, but a bank needed to look traditional and timeless—especially in the Depression. For other Dowler bank designs, see the Coraopolis Savings and Trust Company and the Braddock National Bank.
Built as a bank and still operating as a bank, this is a little building that gets the message right. It did not have the budget for stone, but the blond Kittanning brick gives it the color of stone, and the simple classical arches convey the impression of a rich and substantial bank where your money will be safe.
Note how the definition of “South Hills” has changed since this bank was built on Shiloh Street, just a block back from Grandview Avenue.
This fine new building opened in 1926, and the bank got to enjoy it for five years before it was liquidated in the dark days of the Depression. After that, it sat vacant for a while. Just after Prohibition ended, the Liquor Control Board picked it for a liquor store, but bids for the conversion came in too high, and the board went looking for another location. Later, at some point, it became a bank again. Now the bank has moved out, and it’s ready for its next life.
As you can see from the picture above, the streets do not intersect at a right angle at this corner, so the building is a trapezoid. The upper floors were built as apartments to gain some extra income to pay for the building.