Tag: Fifth Avenue

  • Fifth Avenue Portal, Allegheny County Courthouse

    Fifth Avenue portal, Allegheny County Courthouse
    Samsung Digimax V4.

    This impressive portal, wide enough to drive a large delivery wagon through, leads to the central courtyard.


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  • Fifth Avenue from Grant Street

  • A House by Elise Mercur on Fifth Avenue

    Dr. William H. Mercur house

    Once again our frequent correspondent David Schwing has spotted something important and delightful: a previously unidentified work by Elise Mercur, Pittsburgh’s first female architect. It’s been sitting right there in the open, but nothing on the Internet has pointed out its significance.

    Elise Mercur in 1896
    From Demorest’s Family Magazine, June, 1896, p 454.

    Mercur was a fascinating character. At a time when women as architects were almost unheard of, she was getting big commissions and supervising crews of men who knew they had better not cross her. (See the picture above: would you want to get that look from your boss?)

    She first came to national attention when she beat twelve other competitors with her design for the Woman’s Building at the Cotton States and International Exposition in Atlanta in 1895. The decision of the committee was unanimous: she blew the other competitors away.

    Mercur’s rendering of the Woman’s Building
    Reception hall
    From The Inland Architect and News Record, February, 1895.

    These renderings were printed in a big architectural magazine, which picked them up from another big architectural magazine. They were also front-page news in Atlanta, and of course in Pittsburgh. The Inland Architect and News Record accompanied them with this brief introduction to the architect:

    Miss Elise Mercur, architect, Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. Of thirteen designs submitted, hers was considered of the highest merit and was accepted. As a preparation for her professional life Miss Mercur studied four years at the Philadelphia Academy of Fine Arts and subsequently continued her artistic studies in Germany. The lady has been a resident of Pittsburgh for four years and has been engaged upon practical architectural work in the office of Architect Thomas Boyd, whose foreman she now is. Miss Mercur assisted in the preparation of the plans for the new city Poor Buildings at Marshalsea and superintended their erection.

    Thomas Boyd was a very prosperous architect in those days, and we must give him credit for recognizing ability when he saw it. It took courage to make a woman his construction foreman, but Mercur was up to the task.

    Soon she had a prospering practice of her own, and she insisted on being in every way equal to a male architect.

    For doing men’s work I always insist upon getting men’s prices. I never accept an assignment for less than 5 per cent. I never have any trouble. Contractors who have worked under me know that I won’t stand any ‘monkeying’ and do not try to fool me with poor material, careless work, &c. While I am willing to do what is right, I generally make them live up to the specifications, and any work done improperly has to be gone over again. (Mercur quoted in “Pittsburg’s Woman Architect,” New York World, January 9, 1898.)

    Much of her work was academic—dormitories and classroom buildings for colleges. And that explains why most of it is gone. College presidents hate old buildings, because they stand in the way of big donors’ vanity projects, and college presidents are generally hired for their ability to round up big donors, not for their sensitivity to the architectural heritage of the campus. As far as we know, all of Mercur’s academic buildings have been demolished, some fairly recently. In fact, until a little while ago the only remaining building by Mercur known to exist was St. Paul’s Episcopal Church in the Hill District. But now we have a fine house whose identification rests on solid ground.

    Oriels and sun room

    Dr. William H. Mercur has purchased a choice plot on Fifth avenue, opposite Lilac street, as a site for a new home. The lot measures 50×200 feet, and it belonged to Charles D. Callery. The price paid was $10,000 cash, or $200 a foot. Mrs. Elsie Mercur-Wagner is making plans for a $15,000 brick dwelling which is to be erected on the property within the next few months. (“Real Estate Transactions,” Pittsburg Press, April 27, 1900, p. 14.)

    By this time Mercur was married and using the name Wagner along with her own. We may point out in passing that the name “Elise” was unusual enough that almost half the construction listings misspell it as “Elsie.” Dr. William H. Mercur was her brother, and we imagine he was quite pleased with the house his sister built for him.

    “Lilac Street” in the listing is now St. James, and the location “opposite Lilac street” makes the house easy to find. Plat maps shortly after the house was built show it as belonging to M. S. Mercur (probably William’s wife; property was often put in the name of the wife). In 1923, it still belonged to M. S. Mercur. It is on the side of Fifth Avenue that is counted as Squirrel Hill by city planning maps, but traditionally both sides of the street were “Shadyside,” and the Mercurs were rubbing elbows with some very rich people in the Shadyside millionaires’ row.

    Oriel and dormer
    Front door
    Dr. William H. Mercur house
    Sony Alpha 3000; Nikon COOLPIX P100.

    By comparing this lot with the one next to it, we can see that the lot level was originally above the garage doors. The front yard has been dug away to make space for driveway and garages. Much of the distinctive detail of the house has been preserved, however, and we hope the owners realize that they possess a rare treasure.


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  • A Few Houses on Fifth Avenue in Shadyside

    5501 Fifth Avenue

    Fifth Avenue in Shadyside was the most famous of the millionaires’ rows in Pittsburgh. But there were some more modest houses as well—“modest” being a comparative term here. Some predated the arrival of the millionaires, and some were beyond the main stretch of mansions. Many have been replaced by postwar apartment buildings, but a number of these houses survive. A while ago, Father Pitt took an evening stroll on Fifth Avenue to have a look at some of them. Above, a wood-frame Queen Anne mansion with picturesque protrusions in all directions.

    5529

    A center-hall house in the turn-of-the-twentieth-century interpretation of Georgian style.

    5537

    Another center-hall house of the sort old Pa Pitt would call a center-hall foursquare. Walking around to the side reveals a fat turret that must add to the interest of the interior.

    5537 with turret
    5321

    Another Georgian house, though the Georgian era was lamentably ignorant of buff Kittanning brick.

    5321
    5317
    Sony Alpha 3000.

    From the old days, before the millionaires, here is a wide I-house whose main part seems to have been built before 1872.


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  • Atherstone

    Gateway to Atherstone

    This is a strangely elaborate gateway for a postwar modernist apartment building. But anyone who knows the history of Fifth Avenue can guess that the gateway indicates where a grand mansion once stood on the Shadyside Millionaires’ Row. (Although city planning maps make Fifth Avenue the boundary between Shadyside and Squirrel Hill, traditionally both sides of the street were counted as “Shadyside.”)

    Inscription reading “Atherstone”

    Atherstone was the mansion, or “castle” as locals would have said, of hardware and steel magnate John Bindley.

    From the Bulletin Index, December 8, 1939.

    It was built in 1890, greatly expanded during the First World War (when these pillars were built), abandoned in 1929, and torn down in 1938.

    Pillar in the Gothic manner

    When the demolition began, the Bulletin Index, Pittsburgh’s high-toned society magazine, ran an article about the house that we reproduce below. The magazine had been infected by Timestyle with its horror of conjunctions and its quirky capitalization, but we trust our readers to interpret it without too much difficulty. The article gives us a picture of Depression-era Fifth Avenue at its lowest point, before the postwar housing boom filled many of the vacant estates with modern apartment buildings.

    Gateway to Atherstone

    Atherstone

    Forty years ago young Theodore Dreiser used to spend his evenings reading Balzac in the Allegheny Public Library, his Sunday afternoons walking out Fifth Avenue and back again. It was then one of the wealthiest, swankiest, most famous streets in the world. Dreiser gaped at the great mansions, marvelled years later in his autobiography that “even the lamp posts were better than in other parts of the city.” One of the most magnificent of the castles he gaped at was “Atherstone” (see cut).

    Atherstone was a work of art, a baronial symbol of the great-spending paleo-industrial age of which William Randolph Hearst is the sole remaining big figure. Pittsburgher John Bindley, having grown rich with his Grant Street hardware store, richer as co-founder of the Pittsburgh Steel Co., built his four-story gargoyled castle (in 1890) in the grand manner, with crenellated turrets and 80 windows with leaded panes, named it after his ancestral home place in England. A widower with only two of his six children living, he travelled through Europe every year with his niece Elmina, brought back paintings, furniture, hand-carved panelling, marble mantel-pieces in the fashion of one who feels it a class privilege and duty to patronize the arts. Fixtures he had made to order in Manhattan to match the furniture he bought, for the Chippendale dining room, the Japanese room that was his favorite. During the prosperous war years Steelman Bindley spent $200,000 to remodel, add a wing to his castle. In an enlarged residence of 24 rooms, six baths, he installed an electric elevator, new copper drains, plumbing and kitchen equipment, added cupboard space that virtually equalled the room volume of an ordinary house, put two carved stone pillars at the driveway entrance, two huge solid oak doors at the entrance of the hand-carved oak panelled hall.

    Four years later, at the age of 75, Steelman Bindley died. Atherstone and contents were left to Son Edward Houston Bindley, who died in 1929, to Daughter Adelaide Bindley Davidson, who closed up the castle, put most of the furniture (including the Japanese room) into one end of the Hoeveler warehouse, moved to California. Installed above the spacious six-room coachhouse in the rear was Niece Elmina McMillin, her four servants.

    Many a great mansion Theodore Dreiser looked upon forty years ago now stands boarded up and weed-choked, many another has been torn down to leave great toothless gaps in swank Fifth Avenue. Fortnight ago came word that John Bindley’s Atherstone, scene of many and lavish entertainments, was to be given into the hands of home-wrecking Austin Givens, Inc. (who eleven years ago tore down John Bindley’s hardware store to make way for the Gulf Building). Last week the curious and buying public poked and peered through the cold bare rooms of Atherstone, being auctioned bit by bit. This week Wrecker Givens began to tear down, cart away.

    The Bulletin Index, December 8, 1938, p. 33.

    Pillar
    Sony Alpha 3000; Nikon COOLPIX P100.

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  • Third Presbyterian Church, Shadyside

    Third Presbyterian Church

    “Mrs. Thaw’s chocolate church” was what the neighbors called it, since the brownstone church was largely built with Thaw money. The architect was Theophilus P. Chandler, Jr., a name that sounds as though its bearer was summoned into being to have his suspenders cut by the Marx Brothers.

    Lantern
    Side entrance
    Transept
    Rear of the church
    Rear
    Fujifilm FinePix HS10; Sony Alpha 3000.

    More pictures of Third Presbyterian.


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  • Building More Hospital

    New UPMC Presbyterian building with cranes
    Canon PowerShot SX150 IS.

    The new UPMC Presbyterian building nears completion in Oakland.


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  • Rowhouses at Fifth Avenue and Robinson Street, Oakland

    Rowhouses at Fifth and Robinson

    Sitting at the eastern end of the Great Soho Curve, these houses face eastward, so that they are right in front of you as you travel west on Fifth Avenue. Father Pitt was very sad some years ago when one of the row burned, leaving an irreparable gap; but the rest of the houses, after some years of neglect, are in good shape.

    Rowhouses at Fifth and Robinson
    Staggered rowhouses
    Two houses
    Pair of houses
    Chimney pots
    Dormer
    Front door
    Transom
    Breezeway

    The houses have breezeways between them, which we could not leave undocumented.

    Breezeway
    Breezeway
    Rowhouses
    Rowhouses
    Fujifilm FinePix HS10.

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  • Soho Public Baths

    Soho Public Baths

    Built in 1907–1908, this splendid bathhouse was designed by Carpenter & Crocker,1 who did the whole ground-floor front in terra cotta.

    This bathhouse served Soho, once a crowded neighborhood of tiny houses, many without indoor plumbing; long lines would form on Saturday nights as the working classes took their one chance to get clean. Almost all the houses are gone, and most of the other buildings, leaving overgrown foundations; this stretch of Fifth Avenue is spookily deserted. Even the neighborhood has ceased to exist in Pittsburghers’ imaginations. Soho once referred to the area around the north end of today’s Birmingham Bridge, but there is no such place now on city planning maps. What used to be Soho is divided officially between “Bluff,” “West Oakland,” and “South Oakland.” Soho is generally mentioned only when Andy Warhol comes up, because he was born there; but if you ask where Soho was, Wikipedia will tell you it is a synonym for Uptown, which it will also tell you is the same as the Bluff. (In fact the house where Andy Warhol was born, now a patch of woods on a deserted street, is in the part designated West Oakland by the city.)

    This building was in use more recently than most, but it, too, has been left to rot. It is one of only three or four standing public baths in the city, only one of which—the Oliver Bathhouse—is still serving its original purpose.

    Public Baths

    Old Pa Pitt painted out the close-up graffiti in this picture, because they were distracting, and because if street gangs want to advertise on his site, they can pay for it.

    Soho Public Baths
    Soho Public Baths
    Soho Public Baths
    Balcony
    Ornament with cartouche
    Frieze
    Lintel
    Cartouche
    Keystone
    Soho Public Baths
    Fujifilm FinePix HS10; Samsung Galaxy A15 5G.

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  • 700 Fifth Avenue: The Sharpest Corner in Pittsburgh?

    700 Fifth Avenue

    If it isn’t the sharpest, it must at least be close. Father Pitt remembers when the East Wing of the National Gallery of Art was going up in Washington (Big Worshington, that is): it was boasted that I. M. Pei’s design included the most acute angle in any American building. This angle is nearly congruent with Pei’s, except that here the point has been slightly blunted. The architect has made sensible use of that sharp corner by putting the stairwell there, with a column of windows to light it.

    700 Fifth Avenue
    Fujifilm FinePix HS10.

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