History Lost in a New West Market

The Friends of the Boyd brought to light a significant building slated to be demolished as part of the closure of West Market's Porno Palace Row. Unfortunately this strip's notorious reputation caused most people to turn a blind eye to the actual buildings, even the historical community.

As older Philadelphians move out and newer ones move in, many are beginning to forget the dramatic transformation that took place on West Market Street following Broad Street Station's closure. It's easy to look at West Market's skyscrapers and assume it's always been our Central Business District.

In fact, nothing could be farther from the truth. Albeit close to our cushy Rittenhouse Square, West Market came to life as a gritty corridor lining the "Chinese Wall" carrying Broad Street Station's passengers in and out of the city. It's truly evolved as much as any part of the city, at one time serving the train station with hotels, followed by a bevy of theaters, and eventually, following the station's demolition, a growing Central Business District.

However that growth has taken more than fifty years. Our city's first modern high rises crowded around City Hall and slowly expanded westward. For much of the second half of the twentieth century, the westernmost part of Center City's West Market was lined with many of the same flop houses and theaters that lined the Chinese Wall.

The ambitious endeavor of branding a new business center peaked when the city allowed for the construction of Liberty Place, followed by several other skyscrapers surpassing William Penn's hat. But after that, the corridor faced the same struggles as many other new city centers. With office space amply accommodated in one central location, the remaining properties struggled with an identity crisis, begging the question, "What do we do after five?"

Only recently have developers taken the chance of attempting to redefine a district that is about as exciting and livable as downtown Los Angeles. Luckily they realized that the density of Philadelphia proved that to be false, and new apartments and condos are springing to life along West Market.

While it's great that the real estate on West Market is becoming more diverse and staying awake after the rush hour ends, the impression many hold of West Market is as a work in progress, with real estate not defining our skyline simply waiting to be replaced by a glass cube. That notion is burdened by the fact that so few Philadephians know the history of this street and why these old buildings exist.

It's hard to say when Philadelphia's West Market "Red Light District" emerged. Many will tell you the 70s simply because the heyday of disco and debauchery is a worthy scapegoat for anything catering to sex and drugs. The truth is it's probably rooted much earlier in the flop houses that lined the Chinese Wall, a gritty blight that kept rent low and real estate undesirable.

The city has hosted many pockets of deviance, West Market Street, the Tenderloin and Chinatown, Franklin Square, and although you can uncover various stories talking to older Philadelphians who remember another Philadelphia, very little is ever documented of these districts in any city. They try to hide from the public eye, and likewise, the public eye simply doesn't want to see them.

Demolishing the Chinese Wall was as much an unofficial crusade on the part of the city to eradicate West Market's sleazy reputation as the construction of the Convention Center and the Market East rail lines. And the best way to make people forget about these less than reputable businesses is to wipe them from the face of the city.

It's no mystery why little history is preserved in these pockets or even documented. What's most unfortunate in these redevelopment efforts is the collateral damage that comes in a blind loss of architectural infrastructure.

The seasoned Philadelphian eye sees 2132 Market Street and sees a porn palace, ignoring the carved friezes that adorn its façade. It will likely meet fate with the wrecking ball, and that isn't necessarily the worst thing that could happen.

West Market is finally coming to life with residents and shoppers creating their own new neighborhood. While these dens of inequity deserve a place in the history of our city, much of that history is in how they find themselves constantly searching for the next little pocket to hide. The real shame is in how we demonize a building because of its tenants, erasing it physically and replacing it with a parking lot simply to quell the anxiety of its neighbors.

Toll Brothers and Irresponsible Urban Design

In a recent Philadelphia Real Estate blog, Toll Brothers has come to their own defense. Toll Brothers, long loathed by Philadelphia urbanites for its isolated, suburban designs, is no stranger to criticism. In fact, architecturally, they are frequently excused from any discussion because their designs simply aren't worthy of critique. In other words, they're projects aren't good enough to be deemed "bad architecture."

That said, Toll Brothers is a wildly successful development firm, and more importantly, local. According to Toll Brothers Vice President, Brian Emmons, that success is bent on appeasing shareholders and neighborhood organizations through safe design. Private developers can take risks with lots of their own cash, whereas Toll Brothers needs to guarantee a prompt return on their investments. But a prompt return for investors isn't a long term investment in the city.

Proposed Toll Brothers project at the former New Market complex in Society Hill

Toll Brothers claims that market research indicates luxury consumers like parking, and even a detachment from retail and business. That's a tough assertion to swallow when the bulk of Toll Brothers' market live in the McMansions the firm helped invent. The claim also becomes a bit of a self fulfilling prophesy when you deliver your market exactly what they think they want. That's the kind of conservative approach that turned The Learning Channel into a nonstop Honey Boo Boo marathon.

People won't want more if architects - artists in their own right - don't deliver them something new. That is until you've completely dumbed down the supply so much consumers become absolutely sick of it. Like reality television.

While Toll Brothers' urban market might echo the suburban market's desire for parking and isolation, and delivering that might provide a profitable return, giving the New Money exactly what they want won't change the fact that they'll tire of the urban ills they're trying to avoid behind a gate or garage.

Anyone seeking isolation in neighborhoods as densely populated as Society Hill and Graduate Hospital, as desirable as the proximity to theaters and restaurants may be, will and have been exhausted by the poor schools, crime, and taxes that tenured residents integrated into the fabric of the city are willing to trade for the urban experience.

A city is more than a portfolio of independent properties, it's a complicated algorithm of its parts. Emmons has cited private developers struggling to attract retail and tenants at the Murano and Piazza, but both examples are responsible cogs in a broader collective effort to terraform emerging neighborhoods. They weren't designed to provide an exponential return on the investment, but to provide a lasting infrastructure.

Toll Brothers might not employ artists when it comes to design, but they're masters at business. I have to respect them for that, but it's an art more responsibly reserved for the suburbs. The Murano and Piazza may be struggling to attract tenants, but that isn't unheard of, especially in neighborhoods like Market East and Northern Liberties.

A decade from now the Murano and Piazza will have established their purpose, while Toll Brothers' projects will, at best, be dull infill. Worse, these pockets of suburban isolation could outlive their usefulness when their market realizes they didn't want to live in the city after all, leaving them to be discarded like a disposable suburban stripmall.

Last Call for Gritty Philly?

As the blogosphere buzzes with the promise of Avenue of the Arts improvements and a revived Gallery at Market East, Philadelphia's most dedicated architecture and development nerds have taken a peculiar interest in a neon clad corner of Center City, a relic of the days of disco and debauchery that mysteriously lingered into the 21st Century.

The Forum Theater's presence at 23rd and Market Street managed to anger its new neighbors in the luxury condos at the Murano, while standing as little more than wallpaper, virtually unseen by tenured Philadelphians in the surrounding neighborhoods and universities.

The Forum Theater before its closure, under the luxury condo building, The Murano

But why is the closure of the Forum Theater relevant? This little porn palace opened in 1975, an era in Philadelphia's history both reviled and beloved for the same reasons. The grit.

If you're not old enough to remember Center City before Liberty Place pointed its middle finger at William Penn, take a look at the opening of Trading Places or the famous jogging scene in Rocky. Neither montage is the product of poor film quality. The 70s and 80s really were that dirty.

The opening sequence from Trading Places shows another Philadelphia.

The reason the Forum's existence blended into the background for lifelong Philadelphians is simply because, relatively recently, adult bookstores and porn theaters occupied prominent real estate. Before a Marriott occupied a block of Market East, a large theater stood in the shadow of City Hall. As recent as the Convention Center's expansion, two adult bookstores managed to find customers on Arch Street. The Full Moon Saloon's sign branded 13th Street next to a swanky wine bar until only a few years ago.

While a number of seedy bathhouses, theaters, and porn shops can still be found in Center City, either in the shadows of narrow streets in the Gayborhood, or as niche boutiques catering to drunk frat guys on a South Street drinking binge, the tide has clearly turned.

While the pre-90s urban economic climate allowed nearly any business model to modestly profit and urban renewal successes have elevated our storefront expectations, the internet is an equally obvious blame for the Forum's closure. But there are other factors at work.

Imagine a remake of Adventures in Babysitting if you want to see how the new urban experience has influenced our larger cities and who that experience caters to. Elizabeth Shue wouldn't find hookers on the streets of Chicago. She'd find families pushing their strollers through Millennium Park and late night shopping on Michigan Avenue.

The new city has spread across the country. It turned Times Square into a family-friendly Mall of America. And, despite Center City Sips and a humble condo boom, the Forum's closure signals its final arrival in Philadelphia.

The Full Moon Saloon was a strip club on 13th Street. The sign remained next to Vintage wine bar until a few years ago. Danny's adult shop still remains, largely as a novelty boutique.

Of course the closure of these businesses hasn't eradicated the market for smut. Porn still accounts for the vast majority of the internet. The new urban experience is simply a farce, home to hypocrites who plead, "Please, think of the children!" on message boards while flirting with old high school boyfriends on Facebook.

It allows self proclaimed liberals to exercise their prejudices under the guise of responsibility, while patting themselves on the back for being tolerant enough to raise their kids in the Gayborhood. It gives the "socially responsible" enormous power over businesses as unsavory as the Forum, but also as benign as local bars.

The fire of urban renewal was sparked by an eccentric crew of diversity. Artists found cheap spaces to work, gay communities created enclaves of acceptance, and a large population saw a canvas of unappreciated architecture and history. Perhaps the only thing that the first wave of urban pioneers had in common was a blind eye to their neighbors' private lives. That's tolerance.

Signatures, a well known strip club at 13th and Locust, is now home to the upscale daycare center, Nest, and Green Eggs Café.

The Forum's closure was not without its own missteps. The owner is allegedly in debt and the property is simply worth too much to much to justify its presence amongst pricey condos and apartments.

But whether of not you would have ever set foot in a place as insidious as the Forum Theater, it's closure - at least in part - is an indication that the real urban pioneers have reluctantly passed the torch to the suburban refugees standing in line outside Green Eggs Café, a Benetton billboard that equates driving a Prius, donning an Obama button, and having one "gay friend" with tolerance an diversity, applauding themselves for revitalizing their community by closing businesses that cater to those that made the city the uniquely gritty and colorful place that it is...or was.