The Next Divine Lorraine

EB Realty Management has released renderings for North Broad's Metropolitan Opera House and, well, it looks like the Met we know with purple lights and a "Box Office" sign.

Without it's pediment and crown restored, it gives of an Eastern State Penitentiary vibe, a preserved state of decay. In some ways, like Eastern State, that's quite beautiful. And on an Avenue that hasn't quite figured out what it wants to be, it could be incredibly unique. 

Considering developers Eric Blumenfeld and Billy Procida have been teasing us with the notion that the Met will host one of the "nation's biggest concert promoters," it seems they'd have the prospective funds to completely restore the Met to it's original grandeur. But Blumenfeld and Procida have proven themselves unconventional developers with an admiration for beleaguered brick and mortar. 

We know the Met won't be showing operas, at least not conventional ones. Those venturing up North Broad for a concert won't be looking for a classical venue, but something unique. The Met's current facade offers just that, and perhaps that's why Blumenfeld and Procida chose to leave it as-found. 

Not that anyone cares, but I'd offer only two changes: track down it's rooftop and sidewalk signage. 

There's a scene in the movie Twelve Monkeys where a homeless preacher (from the future) is prophesying outside of the abandoned opera house, and it's deteriorating sign hangs in the background. 

Find it, and reinstall it. In the 1990s, the Met sign was every bit a part of North Broad's cultural legacy as the Divine Lorraine's, and you know someone has it stored in a barn somewhere. 

That said, as Philadelphia's historic theater's go, we've had some losses. But the preservation of the Met exponentially outweighs the loss of places like the Boyd. The Boyd was a cinematic, Art Deco beauty. Not the best, but the best - and only - we had left. But the Met was and is something else. Something iconic from it's inception. It's salvation, even in it's current state, is a win for preservation in this city. 

Close Encounters of the Broad Street Kind

If you've wandered up North Broad Street recently you may have noticed a series of metal poles dotting the median, or what used to be a median. This is part of an Avenue of the Arts project dating back to 2007, and as Inga Saffron recently pointed out, the lights are the only part of a dormant master planned that survived. 

But I don't think the city duped the Avenue of the Arts into blowing $14M on pork. The Avenue of the Arts as an organization - I'd like to think - is a smart one that uses its funds wisely and efficiently. In fact, if we were duped by anyone, it might be the designers Bohlin Cywinski Jackson and James Carpenter Design.

About a year ago the public was shown flashy renderings of these magnificent torches, but we were shown them as the birds fly or through a telephoto perspective the human eye will never see. As they stand in reality, they are too sparse and widely planted to make any sense on an inner city street, at least not on the blocks north of Callowhill where they stand.

It seems the concept was similar in theory to the Ray King's iridescent Philadelphia Beacons at Broad and Washington: mark the Avenue of the Arts, and the arts will come. Despite whether you find King's Beacons an artistic triumph or not, they were a civic failure. 

The four torches never attracted the arts the Avenue had hoped for, and neither will BCJ and Carpenter's 41. Whether or not they're artistically bad is up for interpretation, from the critics and from those on the street. To date, neither installation has been applauded by anyone but the city, at least no praise that I can find. 

But what if either installation was a tad closer to City Hall, a bit more within the zone we regularly consider the proper Avenue of the Arts? If Ray King's Philadelphia Beacons were at Broad and South they'd pair well with South Street's funky image and similar shimmery installations on South Star Lofts and Suzanne Roberts Theater. 

Similarly, the 55 foot towers along North Broad Street look nonsensical juxtaposed against its low rise backdrop, and where their height makes sense - perhaps next to the Divine Lorraine - they're paired with an urban grit that makes them look like pieces of an incomplete construction project. 

Had they run from Arch Street to Spring Garden where the built environment routinely exceeds the height of the masts, they'd complement the glitzy Pennsylvania Convention Center and the illuminated Academy of the Fine Arts. 

And that's exactly what these masts, like King's Beacons, should be: a compliment, not definition. Because where they stand now defines nothing. In fact, where both installations now stand they detract from the built environment that exists, they shift your focus to these alien landing pads and away from what should be the focus: the street. 

In time, perhaps they will make sense. But the "build it and it will come" approach has failed too many times to excuse the current location of either installation, not when either could have been installed where they belong, and certainly not when the money could have been better spent on making North Broad Street the kind of place someone looking for the Avenue of the Arts would dare venture after dark. 

The Beury Building

When it comes to development in Philadelphia, rarely does a plan come along that simply makes sense. When it does, it's reactionary and long overdue, like East Market on Market East. Others that seem to make sense are so far out they only make sense on paper, like numerous master plans proposed for the entirety of the Delaware Waterfront. 

But occasionally a gem comes along. One that both anticipates a current and inevitable progression while managing to get out in front of it before the legitimate concerns of longtime neighbors are replaced by the pseudo-intellectualized ideals of Whole Foods bound yuppies (cough, Northern Liberties).

With years of buzz surrounding the Divine Lorraine and her corner of North Broad Street, Shift Capital has begun looking a little further beyond the confines of Greater Center City, at North Broad's other Divine Lorraine and its vicinity. The Beury Building at Broad and Lehigh isn't where the connected want to be, or even near it. As PlanPhilly put it, it's not in "East Kensington, not South Kensington, and not Olde Kensington. Kensington." This is the real Kensington.

The Beury: North Broad's most important building

Kensington, home to many residents, but also home to urban mythology for those in Center City and South Philadelphia, is, in its current state, the kind of neighborhood where you'd find a masked vigilante's lair hidden neatly beneath a rusty training studio. And the Beury Building his beacon. 

With the exception of their respective architecture, the Beury Building may in fact be even more significant to North Broad's Renaissance than the Divine Lorraine itself. Although not nearly as astounding, it stands to bookend what may someday be a congruous Greater Center City. 

The building is urban, as is its intersection. Every bit as urban as any corner of Center City. Despite it being shrouded in more than fifty years of blighted patina, the Beury Building's corner was, and can again be, a relevant cog in Philadelphia's gridded narrative. If the city and its investors play their cards right.

Banking on Low Income Housing Tax Credits, Shift Capital hopes to house seniors on seven of the Beury Building's fourteen floors. While the idea was previously floated for the Divine Lorraine, it makes sense at the Beury. Kensington is an established community and the Beury Building is an ideal place to house its older residents. Perhaps learning from the mistakes of the suburbanized housing behind the Divine Lorraine, Shift Capital seems to understand the importantance of giving Broad and Erie a reason to retain its urbanity. That reason isn't simply in subsidized housing, but in the Beury Building's viable existence. 

With its proximity to Temple University and as part of North Broad's greater goals, it is imperative that the Beury Building not fall to the wrecking ball. Temple University's growth stands to provide a microcosm of what Penn, Drexel, and other colleges have done for University City. But dynamic development at and around the Divine Lorraine and the Beury Building could make North Broad a much more integrated success story. 

There is no question that the Divine Lorraine is a landmark, significant both architecturally and historically. But with redevelopment taking shape at Spring Garden and along Ridge Avenue, the intersection of Broad and Fairmount is on track with or without the Divine Lorraine. But without the Beury Building, North Broad's urban presence and should-be goal to expand that presence all the way to Erie would cease with its demolition.

A New Avenue of the Arts

While North Broad Street is technically part of the Avenue of the Arts, much of its presence is in name only. North Broad has found itself hosting every stage in the evolution of the American city. It was crisscrossed by industry throughout the 19th Century, its north central points home to Philadelphia's elite during the early 20th Century, it's been lined with grand hotels, and hosted grand houses of art like the Metropolitan Opera.

Unfortunately it quickly declined following the Great Depression. Its beautiful hotels became flop houses, its mansions were abandoned or burned, while residents left amongst its decline turned to religion, converting the Met into a church and the Divine Lorraine into a refuge for the uniquely devout.

Like much of the city north of Vine Street, officials accumulated vacant land for urban necessities. The Vine Street Expressway sutured the north side of town from its siblings in Center City, exasperating the region's decline. Vast tracks of land were razed for public housing and Temple's campus began to wall itself from its neighbors.

West Philadelphia saw paralleled decline, but its wealthy universities have since helped transform it into one of Philadelphia's more prominent addresses. With the help of interested developers, North Broad Street could soon see a similar renaissance. Bart Blatstein's Tower Place at Broad and Spring Garden has brought new life to a once sketchy corner, new development is inching its way eastward from Eastern State Penitentiary and along Ridge Avenue, and Eric Blumenfeld is securing funding for the rebirth of the Divine Miss L.

But the city is also excited about the potential rebirth of Philadelphia's once great, now forgotten corridor. Councilman Darrell Clarke is working with developers to create a non-profit organization to assist with its redevelopment, including tax abatements and loans to incentivize growth.

Hanover North Broad

With speculations around Girard Square, Kmart's planned closure at the Gallery at Market East, and the proposed Market8 Casino at the Disney Hole, it's hard to forget that Market East isn't the only aging city planning disaster to plague a major Center City thoroughfare.

Lined with parking lots, North Broad Street hosts the scars of massive midcentury demolition and looks a lot like Detroit's Woodward Avenue.

The Parkway Corporation owns the two major parking lots at Broad and Callowhill. With the Hanover Design Collective, Parkway plans to develop the lots with Hanover North Broad, a large mix-use project.

Initial renderings show a sensibly scaled design that looks a lot like University City's Domus and will go before the City Planning Commission. As it is, it won't bring a lot of architectural drama to North Broad Street, although its practicality will probably help it breeze through the approval process.

The success of Tower Place and the proposed conversion of the Inquirer Building, along with the emerging Callowhill/Loft District/Eraserhood neighborhood, North Broad and dare I say North Philadelphia, may soon be part of a whole new city. Now if someone would take on North Broad's most tragic lady in wait, the divine Divine Lorraine.

Tower Place

Bart Blatstein's revitalized State Office Building has been rebranded as Tower Place apartments. With amenities like complimentary maid service, this North Broad location will rival many of Center City's luxury apartments. No recent renderings of the apartment building have been released so it's unclear how the ground floor plaza will be treated.

Adding foot traffic to North Broad will undoubtedly assist in the successful revitalization of Blatstein's neighboring property, The Inquirer Building.

Temples of Learning

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.

Philaphilia wrote about this back in October.

Sowing Seeds on North Broad

With the fence down at the new entrance to the Pennsylvania Convention Center and its 13th Street tunnel open to pedestrians, it's becoming more and more tempting to envision a new North Broad. Few people remember this neighborhood prior to the initial construction of the Pennsylvania Convention Center in 1992. Even fewer pictures remain. With the exception of Reading Terminal Market which sat below the rusted Reading Terminal Station next to its derelict head house, few residents strolled the streets just west of Chinatown. Historically this is Philadelphia's red light district, a legacy that continues to this day in its windowless massage parlors.

But is the Renaissance at North Broad and its adjacent blocks already starting to take root? To the naked eye, it's hard to see much more than the Convention Center's newly illuminated facade, particularly when so few are familiar with the surrounding blocks which, with the exception of parking, are all but forgotten by most Center City residents. Despite the fact that developers chose to continue with the center's monotonous Race Street facade which irresponsibly turns its ass to its neighbors, new businesses are already finding their way north of the Convention Center. Considering the transformation the neighborhood underwent following its initial construction in the 1990s, state officials who approved the plans may find themselves regretting the fact that they didn't make the Race Street facade remotely inviting.



Nonetheless, the Sheraton is thriving and a new convenience store is seeing business at 13th and Race. Drexel has dressed up one of its buildings with new windows and an illuminated crown and construction is underway on the Academy of the Arts' Lenfest Plaza. Nearby, construction continues on the infamous graffiti building at 12th and Wood, and even the Watusi Charter School is undergoing improvements. Undoubtedly business franchises are researching locations surrounding the center's North Broad facade which finally gives it a formal entrance. Previously the center felt incomplete, and the retail environment around it reflected its absent presence.

With its main entrance at the unassuming corner of 12th and Arch, it didn't supply as much demand for the larger chains that could benefit from the center's proximity to more than one or two venues. I know many Philadelphians are staunchly opposed to chains, but conventioneers eat them up, and this previously unused neighborhood is the perfect place to contain them. And perhaps if the market can support a number of tourist friendly retail establishments, it can drive the property value up enough to rid this neighborhood of the predatory land hoarders operating the surface lots that litter the surrounding cityscape, or at the very least drive them to build vertically.

Go North

The offices that housed the vacant State Office Building and Inquirer annex are rumored to be relocated to the former Strawbridge & Clothier Building. The SOB rumors have stalled following other rumors regarding SugarHouse at Strawbridges, so no one really seems to know what's happening with the 1950's modernist State Office Building and the sprawling, stone Inquirer annex. My advice, before the SOB's landscaped courtyard at Broad and Callowhill becomes an outdoor homeless shelter, start contacting some ideal tenants to take advantage of the space.

North Broad is not the wasteland it once was. Chinatown is spilling over the Vine Street Expressway. The Loft District is filled with renters and offices. The closest grocery store is the overpriced Whole Foods near the Parkway and Center City desparately lacks any sort of big box amenity except for a dying and outdated K-Mart. The Inquirer annex building is practically made for a complex of large scale retail development. It could easily house a grocery store, a gym, and maybe even a Target. It also has plenty of room for parking. Just take advantage of the space before the opportunity is lost to blight.

Odd Fellow's Temple

Arguably one of the biggest losses of the Convention Center expansion was the Odd Fellows' Temple, or Sweeten Auto Company building on North Broad Street. During the site preparation for the expansion, there was much debate over the Race Street Fire House and the illegally demolished Philadelphia Life Insurance Company buildings on North Broad, but very little mention was made of the most massive loss. The Odd Fellows' Temple design was submitted in 1892 by Hazlehurst & Huckel and built in 1893. As originally built, the Odd Fellow's Temple contained smaller windows than the North Broad building we all came to know which was demolished in 2008.