Toll Brothers has already received approval from the city and returned to the drawing board more than the two required of the Design Advocacy Group, yet the site remains motionless and no timelines have been offered. Aside from readying the proper paperwork, Toll Brothers is likely assessing the profitability of the endeavor, if they ever planned to embark upon construction themselves at all.
As Saffron pointed out, Toll Brothers has done this before. Abandoning a project that ultimately meant the demolition of the historic Society Hill Playhouse and the redevelopment of a vacant lot on Rittenhouse Square, Toll Brothers simply readied the sites for development then flipped the land for a profit.
Until the latest rendering, Toll's tower on Jewelers Row didn't have any private balconies, one of its largest criticisms considering it is intended to be a luxury residential property. It looked more like an office building. They've since added balconies, but only nine and all pointed north, none facing Washington Square Park.
It's becoming clear that this is less of a realistic proposal and more a marketing brochure for speculators. Of course, if Toll flips it to a developer more attune to urban architecture, and certainly more daring, this may be good for Jewelers Row. When it comes to urban development, nothing is worse for an eclectic location than a publicly traded company that traffics in the status quo. Toll Brothers isn't necessarily bad at what they do: clear-cutting farmland for bloated mini-mansions. But high-rises and skyscrapers aren't disposable and they alter our skylines ideally forever. SLCE's best rendering to date is blandly corporate, but this is characteristic for Toll Brothers.
The firm doesn't aim at wealthy eccentrics who want to live in a work of art. They aim squarely at the upper tier of the middle class, a wide range of consumers with disposable income who like trendy sameness. They aim at consumers who shop at Whole Foods and lease BMWs. They aim for the most people with the most money. And sadly, most people don't like bold architecture or care enough about history to sacrifice amenities and luxuries.
But flipping it to another developer is also an architectural gamble. Any firm that could afford Toll's ready-to-build site will be looking for the same exponential profit. SLCE's most recent rendering may simply be a best case scenario, one that could result in demolition for far blander, low-rise infill. A similar bait-and-switch played out on the 1100 block of Chestnut where CREI commissioned a rendering of Winka Dubbeldam's wild Unknot Tower only to flip the land for Blackney Hayes' Collins apartments, the exact kind of dull-your-senses infill we could get out of Jewelers Row.
Unfortunately, given that this probable outcome isn't a bigger source of contention suggests that all those involved in historic preservation aren't intuitively prepared for this scenario. Looking back on this and similar situations, the Preservation Alliance, Design Advocacy Group, and neighborhood organizations look foolish questioning the aesthetics of buildings developers never intended to build. Buildings are astronomical efforts, and much of that comes from just the initial bureaucracy of getting them approved. I'd be curious to hear Toll's response if someone at the Design Advocacy Group had asked if they actually intended on building this tower.
Savvy developers have gotten good at using bureaucracy to their advantage. With far more resources at their disposal than advocacy groups, lengthy meetings and flashy renderings distract preservationists from inferring what may be happening behind the scenes. Preservationists too often wind up looking like children fussing over a drawing, while developers and their lawyers laugh their way through red tape.
