As Philadelphians, we've all enjoyed watching University City transform into Center City's towering sister. Ugly midcentury disasters have made way for their modern equivalent, architecture that will likely be just as abhorred by future generations. Some may even remember a time when West Philadelphia's universities proposed building a wall to separate students from once-dangerous neighborhoods now adorned by preserved mansions, renovated condos, and Victorian twins. Architecturally, it's been great. And University City and its West Philadelphia neighbors have managed to evolve without accommodating the suburban ills that tend to play out in isolated college towns. The University of Pennsylvania, Drexel, even Temple don't just cater to their students, they embrace the city of Philadelphia by indulging our rigid adherence to urbanism and sustained walkability. Universities are no stranger to change. They exert enormous political influence and have the cash to build what they want, where they want. Historic preservationists have abandoned all but the most historically significant of colleges. And even in those instances - William and Mary, Harvard, Penn - those charged with protecting urban heritage largely assign the task to the universities themselves. We've see buildings fall in University City - the good, the bad, and the meh. But there's more to a building's legacy than bricks and mortar, be it Colonial or academia's wild fascination with Brutalism. These places also hold a significance for a vast portion of the public who experienced the most poignant piece of personal history within these buildings.
Just today, an old college friend of mine posted a link on my Facebook page. The link? An offer to buy a piece of my college dorm, recently demolished to make way for a new Student Union. Now, I know this is a blog about Philadelphia, but it's also about architecture and history. Plus, it's my blog, so I'm going to stray from my adoptive city for a moment or two. Everyone has their college stories, or stories from a pivotal point in their life when they start their next act. I might think mine are unique, but no matter how hard I try, I know they're not. But sometimes good stories are those most relatable. And that's exactly what I experienced living on the third floor of South Cunningham for the bulk of my college career. The building was dated. The architecture has been replicated across Longwood College's (now University's) campus. There was nothing significant about the Cunninghams other than our own personal experiences, and that's why it was so sad to see it go. This is the building where I (sorry, Mom) lost my virginity. This is where I spent countless nights crying with friends in the laundry room, coming to terms with my sexual orientation. It's where I spent even more nights crying in that same laundry room with friends - still some of my best to this day - struggling with the same. It's where we somehow managed to cram forty students and a DJ booth into a dorm room for an epic Christmas party, one graced with performances by my then-drag persona, Empress Savannah of the Fourteenth Shue. It's where we would strut down to the hall perfecting our "Model Walk" to the Sugar Cubes. It's where we watched the O.J. verdict. It's where we sang Seasons of Love at the top of our lungs. It's where we watched Kimberly Shaw blow up Melrose Place. It's where we realized that Murder She Wrote's Cabot Cove had a murder rate higher than Honduras. It was more than a dorm or a building...it was a friend. Anyone who's been to college knows what it's like to sit outside their dorm until 3am deconstructing the nature of existence, solve all of the world's problems, and declare that we'll own this world by the time we're thirty. This is where we did that. But most of all, this was the place where we laughed, cried, smoked, drank, and looked to the new millennium, clad in flannel, with relentless optimism. It's where we fostered friendships that have endured marriage and pregnancy, distance and divorce, and substance abuse and recovery. The Cunninghams created the people we are today. And while I think it's fantastic that the campus of my alma mater finally resembles, well, a campus, I am sad to see the Cunninghams go. But their legacy will live on through the people its inhabitants have become, the stories we tell, the stories I continue to tell throughout my thirties and will continue to tell well into my forties and beyond. Farewell, old friend. With that said, enjoy a little 90s awesomeness...
The crown jewel of the University of Pittsburgh's main campus is the 535 foot tall Cathedral of Learning. Begun in 1926 at the height of the country's architectural opulence, the Cathedral of Learning still stands as the tallest education facility in the western hemisphere, and for the time being, the second in the world.
Designed by Philadelphia architect Charles Klauder, the 34 story Gothic Revival high rise towers over Pittsburgh's Oakland neighborhood offering views of downtown and the Allegheny Mountains.
Although the campuses differ dramatically, and it's not clear if the Cathedral of Learning was its inspiration, but in 1930 Temple University broke ground on a similar endeavor, the Temple of Learning.
Temple's urban campus on Philadelphia's dense North Broad Street core left little room for its students when not in the classroom. Part of the tower was constructed by way of "Unit 2," now known as Carnell Hall which was opened in 1929. It's hard to say if the economy played a role, but had it been proposed a few years earlier Temple may have had it's own Cathedral of Learning.
The first mistake anyone in favor of this exciting proposal made was comparing it to Times Square. While Market East belongs to commuters and tourists, every NIMBY in a five block radius will be claiming it their Main Street and undoubtedly packing the meeting space to stomp their feet in protest.
It's true that neon signs and plasma screens won't make up for The Gallery's dwindling business, but a dull and uninviting facade doesn't attract retailers in the first place.
People forget that this stretch of Market Street is the Gateway to Philadelphia for many tourists. Conventioneers and families from all walks of life stay near 12th Street and walk down Market East to The Liberty Bell. Philadelphian's are stern footed when it comes to suburbanizing our retail scene, but when it comes to out of towners, they are typically looking for familiarity. Most don't know who Jose Garces is and they don't care. They're looking for California Pizza Kitchen and Fuddruckers.
Sure, lighting up The Gallery might be the equivalent of putting a turd in a sundress, but considering that turd makes up three blocks of a neighborhood most retailers avoid, dressing it up has to be the first step in turning it around.
The Gallery at Market East facade as seen in part of a comprehensive plan for the Philadelphia City Planning Commission by Ehrenkrantz Eckstut & Kuhn Architects
What other options do we have? Tear it down? It's not like Market East is lacking in available real estate. As sad as it is, The Gallery is the lifeblood of Market East. The "scrap it and start over method" gave us the Disney Hole and the Girard Trust Block. Let's not make that mistake again.
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Other proposals and concerns being addressed in the meeting include a parking garage near 13th and Arch to service a new hotel at Broad and Arch. Councilman Clarke has proposed limiting student housing in Temple's Yorktown neighborhood to keep university presence out of his blighted district.
Temple 20/20 is a reconfiguration of Temple University's Main Campus, centering the university around Broad Street and including the development of several new projects including a new student and community library, lawn, science building, and residence hall.
Temple's proposed Signature Building on North Broad Street
Temple's attempt to improve its relationship with Broad Street is a hopeful attempt to improve its relationship with North Philadelphia, and help improve North Philadelphia itself.
New Mixed Use Residence Hall Complex
A library available to the public, shopping and restaurant spaces for private retail, and parking are some of the additions to Broad Street aimed at both campus life and the North Philadelphia community.
Expansion and renovation of Pearson and McGonigle Halls
Temple will not be expanding into the neighborhood, but rather remaining the same size and growing in height, adding excitement to the North Philadelphia skyline.
Temple University broke ground on the new building to serve the school's Architecture Department. The building is 45,000 square feet and complete the North Broad Main Campus's mini-arts quad, along with the Tyler School of Art, the Boyer College of Music and Dance, and the School of Communications and Theater.
The building was designed by H2L2 (Stamper Square) and will be completed by Fall 2011. It is part of Temple's "Temple 20/20" redevelopment plan. Additionally, Temple is expanding and renovating its McGonigle and Pearson Halls, and developing a new residential and retail project at Broad and Oxford.
