
Though it was later converted to other uses, this building began as an Odd Fellows lodge built in 1910, as we can see from the inscription at the top and the date on the cornerstone.

“I.O.O.F.” for “International Order of Odd Fellows.”

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Though it was later converted to other uses, this building began as an Odd Fellows lodge built in 1910, as we can see from the inscription at the top and the date on the cornerstone.

“I.O.O.F.” for “International Order of Odd Fellows.”


The honest Depression-era simplicity of this building, dated 1931 by the stone beside the front steps, is very attractive. The windows have been replaced; but they have not been blocked in, which sets this apart from almost every other men’s club in southwestern Pennsylvania. Perhaps the explanation lies in the fact that there is a large and mostly windowless basement with separate entrances.



One of the first commissions for the new firm of Longfellow, Alden & Harlow in Pittsburgh was the Duquesne Club, which is still Pittsburgh’s most prestigious club. The brownstone Renaissance palace was put up in 1887–1889 and expanded later. Above, a composite picture made from six individual photographs.

The Duquesne Club seen from Trinity Churchyard.

From the front of Trinity Cathedral.


The Benevolent and Protective Order of Elks was one of the most popular organizations in the golden age of lodges; this particular lodge seems to have been influential enough to have the street renamed for it. The same social forces that have diminished our other clubs and our churches have caused many of the Elks Lodges to close, and this building now belongs to a law firm.




Addendum: The architect was John H. Phillips of McKees Rocks, a prolific designer of schools and other public buildings in suburban boroughs. The lodge was built in 1911 to replace an earlier Elks Temple destroyed by fire. Source: “Proposed Temple of Carnegie Elks,” Gazette, June 18, 1911, where the architect’s rendering is printed.

If you had asked Pittsburghers a century ago what kind of neighborhood Bloomfield was, they would have told you it was a very German neighborhood, with a few Irish mixed in, and a little pocket of Italians starting to move in back near the tracks. Go back a bit further, into the late 1800s, and hardly an Italian name is to be seen among the property owners.
Here is a uniquely well-preserved relic of German Bloomfield, whose date stone tells is that it was built in 1882 as the Baum German Evangelical Protestant Congregation. It now belongs to a charity called Shepherd Wellness Community that keeps it in beautiful shape.



Now, if we turn around and look up the street, we’ll find something else uniquely well preserved in a different way.

This building has seen layers and layers of renovations and alterations, but it goes back to the 1880s, if we read our old maps right. It appears on an 1890 map as the Bloomfield Liedr. S. Society, and on a map from a decade later under the fuller name Bloomfield Lieder-Tafel Singing Society. And if you look on Google Maps, you will find that it still appears as the Bloomfield Liedertafel Singing Society. It is still a private club devoted to music—a social relic of German Bloomfield, still in its original building.

The Maya produced some of the great architectural geniuses of the ancient world. In 1907, the architect Henry Hornbostel made a trip to Yucatan, where he was one of the first people to photograph the ancient Maya structures. In 1938, when he was director of parks for Allegheny County, Hornbostel produced this startling corbeled arch—a distinctive feature of Maya architecture—for the golf clubhouse in South Park.

Reliefs cleverly assembled from bricks show men and women having fun on the golf course. When old Pa Pitt visited, the men playing golf outnumbered women by at least ten to one, but in these reliefs the sexes come in equal numbers. In half the men swing and the women watch, and in the other half vice versa.


The interior decorations continue the abstract-Maya theme.
In his much-quoted talk on “American Style,” the eccentric genius and flimflam artist Titus de Bobula advised his fellow architects, “Go back to our own archeological excavations of Yucatan and Mexico,” where they would find inspiration for a truly American style. He earned some applause, but only a very few American architects followed that advice, producing a small treasury of “Mayan Revival” architecture. This may be the only unambiguous example in Pittsburgh. It took Hornbostel three decades from the time he visited Yucatan to the time he drew this Maya-inspired building, and it was at the end of his career. Perhaps the Maya style was too adventurous for Pittsburgh. But it gave us this one memorable clubhouse, and we can be thankful for that.


Men’s clubs live in terror of windows, which they gradually block up with glass blocks, bricks, or whatever else is handy. But the outlines of this dignified clubhouse remain as the architect drew them. It was designed in 1924 by Edward B. Lee, replacing an earlier lodge (designed by William E. Snaman) that had been destroyed by fire.
The style is noticeably similar to the style of the Americus Republican Club, also by Lee. The buildings are radically different shapes, but Lee applied the same design vocabulary to make both clubs look respectable in their different locations.

Some of the very few small houses left in downtown Pittsburgh were taken over in 1930 by the Harvard-Yale-Princeton Club, which hired big-deal architect Edward B. Lee to transform them into an elegant clubhouse. The club survives, having absorbed two of Pittsburgh’s most prestigious other clubs—the Pittsburgh Club and the Allegheny Club—to become the Allegheny HYP Club. We note also that the club survived the construction of the Alcoa Building, which has a notch cut out in the back to accommodate its small but powerful neighbor.
