Built in 1874, this was the fourth church building put up by this congregation. Apparently this one proved adequate, because—
—this old postcard from the Presbyterian Historical Society shows that very little has changed except for the replacement of the slate roof with metal. As a bonus, the church’s matinee-idol minister judges us through his pince-nez from an inset.
One minor change: the sloped roof over this little corner entrance has been replaced with a gable filled in with siding.
Kiehnel & Elliott were one of the few Pittsburgh firms to adopt early modern styles at the turn of the twentieth century. When they took on a church, however, they turned completely traditional, and it would be hard to point out anything about this neat little church that sets it apart from the work of other good but conventional architects of the time. This one was built in 1915, and it is a typical Pittsburgh corner-tower Protestant church. Today it is one of our dwindling number of black stone churches, and the soot of the decades gives it a kind of evening-dress dignity it would not have had when it was young.
The church us beautifully kept by its current occupants, Victory Global Ministries, whose pastor disdains the pompous title “bishop” favored by many nondenominational ministers in favor of the original workaday meaning of the Greek ἐπίσκοπος: “Overseer.”
The vanishing of an early addition in the rear shows us something of the original color of the stone.
The First German Evangelical Lutheran Church was founded in 1837, and it was downtown, or on the edge of downtown, at the intersection of Fifth Avenue and Sixth Avenue, until the commercial development of downtown Pittsburgh had scattered the congregation and made the land too valuable to keep. We can see from this building that the congregation had money to spend when the church moved to the East End. The architects were the Cleveland firm of Corbusier, Lenski & Foster (not that Le Corbusier, we should point out), who were much in demand as church designers, though this is the only one of their designs old Pa Pitt has found in Pittsburgh so far. By the time this church opened in 1928, the congregation was bilingual, with services in German and in English; so the new church was called Trinity Church.
Not hidden under a bushel.
The parsonage was designed by the same architects and built at the same time as the church.
This church, built in 1955, belonged to a Slovenian parish in the little Slovenian enclave in Upper Lawrenceville. Father Pitt was not able to find the name of the architect, but he would be almost flabbergasted if it were not Ermes Brunettini, whose St. Ignatius de Loyola Church in Glendale shares so many very individual quirks that it seems almost like the same design adapted to a different site.
Although the parish was suppressed, the church has found other uses, and neighbors told old Pa Pitt that they were happy to see it kept up well.
If Father Pitt’s guess about the architect is right, then he might as well guess that the carvings were done by the Oakmont sculptor Louis Vergobbi, who decorated St. Ignatius in a similar style.
The parish school once stood between this rectory and the church, but it was demolished years ago and replaced with a parking lot.
On a rainy evening not long ago, old Pa Pitt stopped to take a few pictures of the former cathedral of the former diocese of the former city of Allegheny.
He took a few pictures of a few details, and then the windows of heaven were opened and a drenching downpour sent him scurrying for shelter.
Andrew Peebles, one of our most important architects in the latter 1800s, designed this fine example of mid-Victorian Gothic, which was built in 1872–1874. It was a cathedral-sized church; so when, shortly after it was finished, Bishop Domenec threw Catholic Pittsburgh for a loop by coming back from Rome with the news that there was a new diocese of Allegheny, this church was ready to slip comfortably into its new role.
The new diocese, however, was a flop. Allegheny had all the rich churches; Pittsburgh had all the debt. Bickering followed, until the Pope, declaring that you kids should just settle down and let a body think for a while, suppressed the diocese of Allegheny in 1889, and Pittsburgh absorbed the territory again. In the secular world, the city of Pittsburgh would soon absorb the city of Allegheny itself.
But a diocese never really goes away in the Catholic Church, and there is still a titular bishop of Allegheny, who the last Father Pitt heard was an auxiliary bishop of Newark. And a church never forgets that it has been a cathedral.
This fine iron fence bears the mark of its makers: Cochran Bros. of Pittsburgh.
And then the rain came. But we have more pictures of St. Peter’s, as well as some pictures of St. Peter’s at night.
It’s worth noting that the cathedral was hit by a disastrous fire in 1886 that destroyed everything but the walls. But the original plans were followed in the reconstruction, and Peebles was still around to supervise, so the current church is essentially the one that was built in the 1870s.
Neal & Rowland (Joseph Ladd Neal and George M. Rowland) designed this church in the Norman Gothic style, as they described it, and it succeeds in creating the impression of a medieval parish church that grew organically out of the soil.
A sketch of the design was published in the Pittsburgh Gazette for September 22, 1902, and the church as it stands today is just about the same, except for a few small details that seem to have changed before construction began.
As the Gazette article explains, the Gothic design was a change of heart on the part of the congregation—an about-face that must have caused the architects no little consternation, and one that makes their accomplishment all the more praiseworthy.
The congregation of the First Unitarian church, now worshiping in the frame chapel in Craig street, opposite the Duquesne garden, will soon lay the cornerstone of their new church at the southeast corner of Ellsworth and Morewood avenues. This site was bought for $35,000 shortly after the present church property was sold as an addition to the new Catholic cathedral site. The new site faces 170 feet in Morewood avenue and 181 feet in Ellsworth avenue. It is opposite the Shadyside academy and adjoins the costly residence properties of Attorney General P. C. Knox and of Col. J. M. Schoonmaker.
The original plan of the trustees was to build a church of white Georgia marble after the Greek Doric Temple style, a decided innovation in Pittsburgh architecture. Later this plan was abandoned and the architects, Neal & Rowland, were instructed to make the design after the Norman Gothic model. The walls of the church will be of stone. It will have four gables and the conventional Norman tower at the corner. The audience room will sent 400 and the Sunday school rooms, which are separated from it by folding doors, will accommodate 150 more. The interior of the church is to be handsomely finished in hard wood with stained and art glass windows. On the outside an elaborate scheme of landscape work will make the site very attractive. The church will be set back 44 feet from Ellsworth avenue and the carriage entrance will be from Morewood avenue.
The First Unitarian congregation was organized in 1889 by the Rev. J. G. Townsend and was under the charge of the Rev. Charles E. St. John from 1891 to 1900. The Rev. L. Walter Mason, the present pastor, came to the charge in November, 1900, since which time the number of communicants has increased to 460. The congregation will continue to hold services in the present building until June 1, when it is expected the new edifice will be completed, at a cost of about $35,000.
In spite of the overoptimistic estimate in the article that the building would be completed in June of 1903, there were some delays: the cornerstone was laid in 1904.
Built in 1896, this eclectic pile seems not to be in use right now, but it is not in terribly bad shape. It was built as the Second Presbyterian Church of Braddock, but later took the name Calvary Presbyterian. Old Pa Pitt spent some time trying to figure out who designed the building, but none of the newspaper articles he found mentioned an architect.
These stubby entrance towers, with their double eyebrowed round windows, trigger a disturbing pareidolia in Father Pitt’s brain.
On the other hand, the whole building was worth putting up just to display this fan window.
The church is separated by less than a yard from its neighbor, the historically Black New Hope Baptist Church. It illustrates an interesting fact of social history: the separation of Black and White residents into different neighborhoods was largely a development of the second half of the twentieth century, and it was largely a conscious decision of the powers that were. In the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, our urban neighborhoods were the proverbial melting pots of all nations and races.
This building has been slowly crumbling for many years now, and it has finally reached a stage where reasonable people agree nothing can be done to save it. According to neighborhood gossip, it was estimated that five million dollars would be needed just to stabilize the structure, and no one has five million to spend on a big church in Manchester.
It is part of the curious paradox of Manchester that this church stands on Liverpool Street right next to perhaps the finest and best-restored block of Victorian rowhouses in Pittsburgh. “A building like this anchors the community,” one neighbor told old Pa Pitt—“even in this condition.”
St. Joseph’s was built in 1897 for a German parish. The architect, as we might guess from the picturesque style and the buff brick, was Frederick Sauer.1
When the parish closed, the building was sold to a nondenominational congregation, but the same neighborhood gossip tells us that the congregation struggled even to pay utility bills. After it folded, the building stood vacant, and suffered the usual piecemeal destruction of a large vacant building.
A few days ago, Father Pitt passed by on Liverpool Street and saw the big red sticker on the door. It was pouring down rain at the time, but he went back the next morning to document the church before it disappears, which is why we have more than fifty pictures to show you.
Many more pictures…
As seen from the roof of Hampton Hall. The architect was David J. Vater; the building was put up in 2007.
We also have more pictures from ground level.
This historically Black congregation has been in Swissvale just about since there was a Swissvale. According to our correspondent “Calvin,” this building was originally the First Presbyterian Church of Swissvale. When that church built its new stone church in 1909, this building was sold and moved. (Moving buildings was surprisingly common, and there were firms that specialized in nothing else.)
