Dilworth House: What Happened to the Advocates?

When John and Mary Turchi purchased Washington Square's Dilworth House in 2001, they wanted to restore the mansion as a private residence. But things immediately got...Philadelphian.

Despite the building's Colonial charm, Dilworth House's historic significance lies with why it was built, not when. G. Edward Brumbaugh designed the house for Mayor Richardson Dilworth in 1957. At the time, Society Hill was a blighted slum and Dilworth decided to show confidence in his city by living amongst some of its squalor. Ultimately Dilworth and City Planner Ed Bacon helped transform Society Hill into the charming historic district we know today.

But adapting a home that has been largely unchanged since 1957 comes with all the demons one would expect, particularly when attempting to convert it into the modern and luxurious residence we'd expect to find on Washington Square.

Concerned neighbors fought Turchi every step of the way. After neighbors managed to block his proposed alterations to the house, Turchi sought to demolish the house for a tower designed by Venturi, Scott, Brown. Obviously, neighbors fought. Turchi offered a compromise, one which would require a bit of Franken-tecture, building the tower above the existing house, which would have served as the building's entrance. It was weird.

The ordeal was dragged out for over a decade, and today the house remains vacant. Those concerned neighbors who fought the initial restoration and alterations are now saddled with a vacant mansion at one of Philadelphia's most premier addresses. One has to wonder if neighbors wish they'd have let him make the simple alterations in the first place, offering Washington Square a unique showcase where you'd expect to find a modern high rise.

No one offered money or an alternate buyer, but early comments about a potential museum suggest that neighbors initially wanted the house converted into a public space. But a museum to what? The house itself is not architecturally significant or historic. It's a Colonial interpretation, not even a recreation of anything that ever existed on the site, or anywhere for that matter. 

Plenty of sites, both authentic and recreations are open to the public and nearby. But most are operated by the National Parks Service, an organization with absolutely no interest in a fifty year old house with no national significance. And of course, the city of Philadelphia couldn't afford to operate what would be one of the most boring museums this side of a wax museum that doesn't come to life and eat people.

Additionally, the Society Hill neighbors that fought Turchi have done nothing to follow up on what has become a dead proposal. The house has been saved, for now, but it's ignored by anyone who once claimed an interest. The city's Parks Department is poorly funded, and its primary focus is on parks that residents actually use. Residents typically save sites like Dilworth House by creating a "Friends of..." organization, pitching a proposal for the site that makes sense, and most importantly fields volunteers and donations to actually bring their plans to fruition.

But in Society Hill...crickets.

Karma can be ugly...and it's covered in vinyl siding

In what now seems to be the age of Yore and Yesteryear, in 2008 Philadelphia's architectural development was booming. So much so I actually had stuff to write about. Neighborhood associations were brutal, and slammed the iron fist of NIMBYism on a potentially new skyline.

As irrational as some of their arguments against Mandeville Place, Bridgemans View, and dynamically planned entertainment and casino complexes may have been, none were more perplexing than the Society Hill Civic Association's opposition to H2L2's Stamper Square.

Center City's most picturesque neighborhood is hoarding an ugly truth behind its mahogany doors. Tucked behind 200 years of history and decades of blue haired entitlement sits a concrete slab that has been eyed by developers since the small tourist mall New Market was torn down 20 years ago.

After H2L2 proposed an interactive, midrise hotel for this trash strewn lot, some residents were relieved. Many more were stractching their heads wondering where exactly this site near Headhouse Square actually was.

What seemed most certain was that Stamper Square had the green light. And why wouldn't they? H2L2 not only designed an engaging complex with ground floor retail at scale with the history of the neighborhood, developers were reaching out to the community, altering design after design to accommodate even the most absurd requests.

Then the SHCA decided on behalf of this entire neighborhood, one that belongs as much to every Philadelphian and tourist as it does those who live there, that we were all be better off with a vacant lot. And they won.

Well, in spite of a bad economy, some developers still manage to thrive, and this ugly lot is still on their radars. Unfortunately for the SHCA, and Philadelphia, the developer is nationally renowned McMansion designer Toll Brothers. Not only is Toll Brothers proposing a gated development at this undeniably urban location, but they have the weight of a massively powerful public company to make it happen.

The SHCA isn't happy, and reasonably so this time. I'm no fan of the McMansions that now rise above the Virginia farm I grew up on, and I certainly don't like the prospect of them taking up valuable real estate in Philadelphia's most iconically Philadelphian neighborhood.

That said, how many opportunities should the SHCA be allowed to dictate what happens in a lot it doesn't own? If Toll Brothers moves forward with this project, it wouldn't be the first time the SHCA dragged its feet to secure the status quo.

When developer John Turchi bought Dilworth House, planning to restore the home and make it his private residence, the SHCA demanded this vacant home be restored and turned into a museum. Turchi then applied to have the home demolished. It still stands - for now - but what could have been a beautifully restored Colonial reproduction on one of our city's most beautiful squares, it still sits vacant.

How much weight can these neighborhood associations reasonably demand? It's one thing to request compromising details: brick, trees, store fronts. But allowing them to demand a compromising developer hit the road with no alternatives in sight, allowing them to keep a valuable piece of property vacant and unused for two decades neighboring some of the city's most prominent addresses, that's irresponsible.

Well, SHCA, here's your silver metal. And unfortunately for all of us, the economic climate is no longer affording the kind of idealism that keeps lots vacant.

Dilworth's Legacy

It's still there, not yet encased in Robert Venturi's latest architectural abortion. The quasi historic Colonial reproduction built by Mayor Richardson Dilworth in the 1950's - and the catalyst for Society Hill's renaissance - The Dilworth House has been sitting in front of developer John Turchi's wrecking ball for nearly a decade and it's still there, empty. Is he waiting out the recession? Or better yet, waiting for the house to fall into a state of "disrepair" so he can pay off L&I to have it demolished for "safety" reasons. Or better yet, watching it burn down from Washington Square with a quizical look on his face and a smoldering match.

With all that said, and I'm not siding with Turchi (a hot headed little man who wants to bulldoze the house in spite), is a 50 year old reproduction a fitting legacy for Mayor Dilworth's contribution to Philadelphia, or is the opulance and beauty of Society Hill itself?