The Cheesecake Factory

While Philly Foodies bottleneck the blogosphere criticizing one of the nation's most successful upmarket chain restaurants, the Cheesecake Factory is cooking up their 15^th and Walnut location unimpeded.
 

Bohlin Cywinski Jackson, the architects behind Apple's minimalistic glass cubes, has been hired to develop the site for several tenants. It's unlikely anyone will miss the three buildings being razed for this project, particularly since the former Fleet Bank and Eckerd Drug Store have been vacant.

Local critics have already started raving about BCJ's preliminary renderings of the site as well as the firm's trademarked Apple contract. But like other starchitects, BCJ is selling a brand the way athletes and pop stars sell body wash and perfume.
 

BCJ offers a few I-beams to break the Apple mold, but their signature style is evident in this 15^th and Walnut façade.
 

Why do we continue to applaud architects for an absence of style?
 

Bohlin Cyninski Jackson's rendering of Cheesecake Factory's 15th and Walnut location

 

BCJ's new building won't offend anyone. How could it? In every way, this building is perfect for the Cheesecake Factory. It's deliberately intended to appeal to the broadest audience possible.
 

Architects, particularly national and global firms, are quickly intellectualizing the art out of their craft. Glass curtains, corporate branded design, and canned blueprints are boxes for engineering and market research. A glass cube might be more pleasant to look at than a suburban Hampton Inn, but what makes it more interesting? And more importantly, what makes it cause for praise?
 

Why do we criticize mass appeal at the dinner table, but laud it on the street? Local architecture firms like Erdy-McHenry take risks at smaller venues and experiment with our visual palette only to be criticized as kitsch.

We rave about the latest BYO and rant about its corporate competition, but when the Cheesecake Factory of architecture firms drops another deuce on our city's most premier avenue, the voice of Philadelphia's architecture is starstruck.

It's as hard to criticize this building as it is to praise it. It's not ugly like the new Hilton Home2 Suites at 12^th and Arch, but at both sites the skill is in the unseen engineering required to keep any building from falling over.
 

Hilton Home2 chose to put its engineering inside an abysmal concrete facade. BCJ puts it in a glass cube, like a Swatch watch.
 

It's unfortunate because buildings are relatively permanent. We threw away our translucent telephones when we realized how stupid they were, but architecture can't afford to be a fad.

As important as a critique of any building is how we react to it. Like a fine meal at a local restaurant, good architecture often offends as many as it inspires.
 

Modern architecture at any point will inevitably face a point at which it needs to await renewed appreciation as history. Victorian architecture was reviled for years and we are just now revisiting Brutalism.
 

How will history view our most contemporary modern architecture? Will our successors admire the craftsmanship? Its lack of presence? Will society have entirely schooled the design out of design and face a cityscape of prefabricated shipping containers?

 

Or will the future recognize the gimmickry in modern art, expect more from those we hire to sculpt our cities, and put BCJ's glass cubes up on eBay next to our Swatch watches and translucent telephones?

America's Most Miserable Cities

Like TLC and The History Channel, Forbes has completely given up. In what's fast becoming the Reality TV of financial publishing, they realized they can make a lot more money producing crap than actually talking about, you know, money.

Anyway, Forbes recently published a(nother) list pitting cities against cities, ranking America's Most Miserable Cities. But check this out, Philadelphia isn't on it!

Seriously, while even our home grown publications like Philadelphia Magazine and the Inquirer slum it in self loathing, Forbes doesn't think we're that miserable.

In all fairness, Forbes altered the more credible "Misery Index" from the 1960s to include subjective statistics like quality-of-life annoyances and weather.

Detroit and other Rust Belt ghost towns made the top 3, but surprisingly Chicago made #4 and New York City made #10.

If a statue this bad ass can't save Detroit, nothing can.

 

 

Raising the Titanic

Australian mining billionaire Clive Palmer has plans to rebuild the ill fated Titanic in an effort that "is not about money." The near-replica will be built by China's CSC Jinling Shipyard for an undisclosed sum.

While CSC Jinling has no experience building passenger ships, they are interested in expanding into the luxury market. Additionally, as legendary as the ship has become, realistically, rebuilding the ship isn't the undertaking many may think. In fact, the only thing unprecedented in Palmer's plan is building an ocean liner so small.

Let's start off by defining the difference between ocean liners and cruise ships. The Titanic, and most passenger ships built before 1960 were ocean liners, which means they were built to carry passengers across the Atlantic and then some. Basically, the hulls are sturdier and the life boats are higher (of which they're now required to carry enough). Cruise ships on the other hand drift leisurely around destinations that tourists usually drive or fly to.

Unfortunately for ship-o-philes and people like me who hate to fly, when Pan Am started carrying passengers across the Atlantic in a matter of hours, the market for ocean liners dried up over night.

Palmer's plan for his Titanic II is to recreate the experience as closely as possible. Not only will 1st, 2nd, and 3rd Class accommodations be limited to their quarters, travelers will be dressed in period garb.

It sounds fun, right?

For a night.

Titanic II's maiden voyage will carry its 1500 passengers from the United Kingdom to New York, completing the original's journey. With 3rd Class passengers locked below and everyone stuffed into early 20th Century corsets, it sounds like one of those murder mystery parties...one that just won't end.

You might be able to find a thousand rich eccentrics willing to shell out who-knows-what for its maiden voyage, but what about after that?

There's a reason the Titanic has never been rebuilt, and it goes beyond the bad mojo that comes with naming any ship "Titanic."

The truth is, while the Titanic was the biggest ship the world had ever seen - in 1912 - it's pretty small. If it sailed into New York Harbor like it did in the inadvertent comedy, Raise the Titanic, it would be dwarfed by today's cruise ships and ocean liners. Hell, if Titanic II ever finds its way to Dubai, it might even get scoffed at by a few sailing private yachts, especially when the Renaissance Faire - er, Victorian Faire - disembarks clad in pantaloons and lacey sunbrellas.

Without even making an iceberg joke, replicating the Titanic experience is masochistic by today's standards. Modern day passenger ships offer nightclubs, water parks, gyms, rock climbing walls, and zip lines. Even oil tankers occasionally have a pool or two.

The Titanic had a piano and a couple medicine balls.

Taking the kitsch factor to even weirder levels, the ship's 3rd Class passengers, you know the one's who won't be allowed upstairs for five days, well their entertainment will include Jameson soaked Irish jiggery.

Okay, that's kind of fun...until you consider how many 3rd Class passengers were just hunkering down to get to the States. If the Irish dance scene from James Cameron's Titanic actually happened, most 3rd Class passengers were barricaded in their windowless rooms because there wasn't a lot of space to party down there.

Let's face it, rebuilding the Titanic is like watching The Neverending Story at 30: Better left a memory.

You know where the Titanic's scale would really impress? Docked in New York Harbor as a hotel. But wait, there's already a ship sitting around with nothing to do, one that broke more records and had a lot more panache. And it's sitting down in South Philly just waiting for an eccentric billionaire to give her a second life.

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.

South Broad's Armory to be Redeveloped

The large armory at Broad and Wharton, vacant since 2003, will likely be demolished to make way for developer Michael Carosella's six story apartment building, designed by Vincent Mancini of Landmark Architectural Design. With its 50 units and Broad Street entrance leading to a surface parking lot of 52 spaces, it sounds a lot like Carl Dranoff's 777 South Broad.

The armory is currently owned by Tolentine Community Center and Development Corporation which has allowed the property to fall into a state of purported disrepair, a claim made all too often in Philadelphia.

What's interesting in a neighborhood that frequently objects to developments along its major corridor, those at a zoning meeting held by the South Broad Street Neighborhood Association seemed to welcome the demolition and redevelopment.

With obvious vested interests in the building's demolition, Mancini and Carosella pitched their proposal to the crowd, citing logistical problems with the building's relationship with the street and impossible restoration. Both the developer and the architect ceded that the only way to redevelop the property would be to bring the building down.

But where was the objective party? And more perplexing, where were the vocal NIMBY members that routinely question the motivation behind any project pitched for their neighborhood?

It's easy to argue that the armory's relationship with the street can be cold, but not only is this the case of any successful warehouse conversion in Callowhill and Northern Liberties, it's Carosella's job as an architect to fix that.

Mancini and Carosella stand to profit more from the demolition of the armory than its renovation and conversion, and there may be nothing wrong with that. But as bias partners claiming that the building must come down - which may very well be true - why has no one questioned that claim?

The answer is likely: Parking.

Unfortunately residents of this densely populated part of town are, through no fault of their own, very dependent on their cars.

It's easy to stereotype Passyunk Square and South Broad as chock full of fixie riding hipsters, but it's even easier to forget how massive South Philly actually is. Even in this particular part of South Philadelphia, there are many more households dependent on their cars than not. And honestly you can't blame the residents, even those that live near the Broad Street Line.

While bike lanes, buses, and the subway are convenient to those working in Center City or University City, the public transportation available to South Philly is not at all convenient to New Jersey, the suburbs, or the farther reaches of the city. The fact that the PPA is forced to ignore thousands of illegally parked cars on the Broad Street and Oregon Avenue medians, and even more parked cars blocking intersections, indicates any project that would add residents will need to provide parking.

If the armory does need to come down to provide this necessary evil, Mancini and Carosella should responsibly provide smart parking. Surface lots stain this city, but residents at the armory site will need to park somewhere. Instead of isolating the residents cars in another asphalt prairie, provide parking underground, or better, in a large garage respectfully designed to interact with the sidewalk and provide additional parking for not just residents, but the cars littering the Broad Street median.

Hilton Home2 Suites

Perhaps one of the worst architectural trends to emerge from the second half of the 20th Century is corporate branded design. Not only is it a cheap way to reuse blue prints, but the design is underwhelming, not just because it's cost effective, but because consumers remember simplistic design easier than good architecture, and recycled facades serve as their own advertisements.

To add insult to injury, corporate design is impossible to reuse. When my hometown decided to expand its county offices, a vacant Safeway was chosen as the site. Even though it was rebuilt complete with a clock tower, Safeway's signature Quonset Hut roof can't be ignored. And who hasn't seen at least one 80's era Bonanza serving as a Chinese buffet? 

While many upscale hotels, at least in large urban cores, have chosen to occupy historic office buildings, many others have carried their corporate branding far beyond signage, sharing the same approach as roadside Super 8's. Hilton Home2 Suites at 12th and Arch is no exception.

Not only is Home2's design scene only design in the most technical sense of the word, worse, it doesn't care. It's ugly, deliberately ugly. And why shouldn't it be? People are brand loyal, and for anyone loyal to the Home2 brand, these abominations are impossible to miss. Surrounded by gracefully reused Marriott properties and the respectfully preserved Loew's PSFS Building, Hilton isn't even pretending to care about Philadelphia.

It's irresponsible. To those residing at Home2, it's conveniently located across the street from the Pennsylvania Convention Center and Reading Terminal Market. But those residing at Home2 aren't Philadelphians and will rarely consider that this building is nothing but a middle finger to our portfolio of historic and modern architecture.

The choice of Hilton's executives to use branded design becomes even more insulting when you consider the fact that this was the site of a proposed W Hotel that was (and I never use this world lightly) fabulous. You have to wonder if Hilton's corporate architects even visited the site. But again, this building wasn't designed for Philadelphians, or even with Philadelphians in mind, so why bother? In almost any case, anything is better than a surface parking lot, but perhaps not here.

The W Hotel, once proposed for 12th and Arch.

Community activists routinely protest handsome residential developments, pushing local developers out of town. Yet when a billion dollar corporation decided to drop this bomb at a major intersection, a corporation that can afford to employ better design, our voices were silent. The fact that a parking garage that recently opened chose to grace its façade with an ounce of pizazz is all you need to know to recognize that this hotel is an absolute disaster.

Casino Craze: Part Deux

Bart Blatstein resurrected the Great Casino Debate with his proposed entertainment complex at the Inquirer Building which, admittedly, I think is a bit too Vegas for Center City. Not the casino itself, mind you, but the Tiny Town he proposed building on the roof of the building.

With a little excitement behind the second leg of the debate (and a lot of resistance), developer Ken Goldenberg has thrown his name into the casino hat with a proposal at a much more logical location: Market East. More specifically, the abhorred Disney Hole. Of course it's easy to dub this proposal Disney 2.0, but the same could be said for any entertainment project of this scale.

The preliminary rendering is vague at best, but pretty sleek. Backed by Campus Apartments and Deutsch Bank, the promise of investors are just as exciting as a destination attraction on our forlorn Market East.

Called Market8, Goldberg is off to a good start claiming the entertainment complex will only "happen to have a casino." The venue would offer numerous restaurants and retail, and best of all, underground parking.

Bye-bye, Disney Hole.

Hey, I'm a dreamer.

The multi-faceted approach isn't just the best way to pitch a casino, but the city should have required the approach all along.

SugarHouse was one of the city's biggest planning debacles. The proposal was grand, but phased, and the first phase called for a slot barn and a parking garage.

It's funny how the city decides to exert its muscle. They micromanage parks and condos, but when it came to SugarHouse, there were no caveats.

For the record, I'm all for casinos. Not personally. They're trashy, tacky, and for me, a waste of money. However, the same could be said for City Council itself.

But Philadelphia is big enough to provide plenty of entertainment for everyone. A lot of people sell the city short, not the least of which are those who rabidly charge themselves with saving Market East. Those activists have cost the city millions debating benign improvements to this part of town.

Philadelphia is chock full of quaint Colonialism, but we aren't Williamsburg and Market East isn't the place to preserve history, particularly when its few historic properties are already protected. Give the Capitalists their playground.

With that said, the State and City missed the mark with SugarHouse, and we have a second chance to work hand in hand with private developers to mark drastic improvements to our city's core.

I will never understand why the city didn't grant SugarHouse a casino license only contingent on better development. SugarHouse's proposal had plenty of competition. They would have done anything to get that license. The city missed an opportunity to get a lot of free improvements. City Council could have gotten more than just the dynamic casino complex SugarHouse originally proposed, we could have gotten a free Delaware Avenue lightrail.

At this point SugarHouse can likely claim that it's not profitable to expand it's non-gaming oriented entertainment or hotel. I doubt that's true, but the city put no requirements on them to expand, so they're content. If the city required a hotel and convention space as part of SugarHouse's "Phase 1" the project would be a lot more exciting than it is.

If Market8 has a chance at becoming a reality, the city should seize the opportunity to not just require more than a casino from Goldenberg's venue, but ask him to flip the bill for some of the improvements this corridor desperately needs.