Blatstein's New Empire

Blatstein's been a buzz this week in Philly's blogosphere. Most of the ink is over the typical shenanigans that make developing anything in this town as acid-inducing as trying to wrap your head around the success of Glee. There's no use going into the maniacal specifics taking place at 1400 Spring Garden short of saying it's costing both sides tens of thousands of dollars and is being held up in part by the great thorn in Philadelphia's ass, PREIT.

With that said, the sale of the State Office Building to Bart Blatstein of Tower Development is moving forward, even if at a snail's pace. With the never ending success of the Piazza at Schmidt's transforming a once desolate pocket of Northern Liberties into a new city of its own, and Avenue North anchoring an element of - well, something other than a crime statistic - in North Philadelphia, Blatstein's vision for Broad and Spring Garden will be met with eager anticipation. If this corner sees a fraction of the success seen at the Piazza it could be the catalyst to bridge the gap between Center City and Temple University.

The project is purported to include apartments or condos, shopping, and possibly a high rise addition. New residential life on North Broad Street could not only bring life to the street itself but open up the insular Loft District and link Spring Garden and Fairmount to Center City, maybe even someday encouraging the redevelopment of the architectural gems along Ridge Avenue and of course the sadly neglected Divine Lorraine.

Replace Our History, or Create a New One?

Philadelphia - historic as it may be - has always functioned as a working city and as a result, has no inherently true "historic districts". Center City's one seemingly historic district is the result of a mid-century attempt to reconstruct a Colonial past, one which is only as important as a number of other movements responsible for the PSFS Building, the Divine Lorraine, even the Cira Centre. The result, Society Hill's "historic district", is a collage of questionable reconstructions which sacrificed dozens of 18th and 19th century buildings, some by Willis Hale and Frank Furness. This attempt at architectural cohesiveness created a very peaceful, historic illusion, but compared to the rest of Center City is one of the less interesting neighborhoods to look at.

Historic districts are important but it is just as important to respect the existing history of a neighborhood which has naturally evolved. The Keystone National Bank Building is a prime example. Is it more historically respectful to replicate the original facade which was replaced less than ten years after it was constructed, or do you pay homage to the five successive facades implemented over the following 100 years by designing something truly modern that represents the needs of the existing urban fabric of a culturally, historically, and architecturally diverse neighborhood? Unfortunately we usually fall somewhere in the middle, attempting to appease the devout advocates as well as the needs of the client, and we end up with bland, historic interpretations. Instead we should be replacing the avante garde masterpieces we've lost over the decades with exciting new architecture.

An empty construction site or blank facade has the potential to be architecturally significant someday. In a city as aesthetically diverse as Philadelphia, architects should be creating tomorrow's history and not wasting their time recreating yesterday's.

Hale's Legacy

Willis Hale's legacy in Philadelphia is often as macabre as his architecture. With the eerie Divine Lorraine, once home to the International Peace Movement Mission and Father Divine's followers, vacantly awaiting a new owner after being stripped of it's soul and left behind by an absent European investor, and the Keystone Bank Building's upper floors of the former Drucker's Bellevue Health Baths on Chestnut and Juniper quickly decaying above the retro-fitted Value Plus facade.

Unfortunately most of Hale's neo-Gothic Victorian examples were razed in the mid-century quest to return Philadelphia to its Colonial roots. These two in particular, arguably his most well known works, share a distinctly Halian identity.

Developer Alon Barzilay and architects JKR Partners have been in a debate with the Preservation Alliance for Greater Philadelphia on a rendering of what will be the latest of six interpretations of it's lower facade in the building's 123 year history. While Barzilay intends to fully restore the existing, historic masonry, the PAGP is concerned with JKR's interpretation of the 1960's addition. I just hope the roof survives the PAGP's stubbornness.

The numerous facades of the Keystone Bank Building - also known as the Lucas Building and the Hale Building - throughout its 123 year history. Seen here in 1893, 1900, 1930, 1955, 1970, Today, and JKR's rendering.

Everything and nothing is historic about the facade. It would only be fitting for its latest incarnation to be specifically dated to modern, 21st century architecture. Unless Barzilay plans to alter the remaining original details, any historical organization has no business dictating design. The PAGP can and should be offering suggestions, but it is not their place to halt progress based on the replacement of an insignificant facade. Their area of expertise is in existing, historical structures, not design, and they seem to have successfully hijacked an absolute authority over this building that they have no business exercising.

Race Street Pier - Walk There

Field Operations and James Corner, who designed New York's High Line, have released the initial rendering for the redevelopment of the Race Street Pier on the Delaware River, just below the Ben Franklin Bridge. The Delaware River Waterfront Corporation is working with a $5M budget to reconfigure the 109 year old pier into a recreation attraction. The biggest complaint from the Negadelphians so far? You guessed it. Parking. Here's my advice, check out one of the literally ten surface parking lots in the vicinity, or better yet, walk. There's something about driving to an urban park that's akin to using a wheelchair for fun. For real, people, come on. We are the fattest, ugliest, most unhealthy, and most depressed city in America for a reason. It's no coincidence that so many of you adamantly refuse to walk a block.

More Casinos?

As more and more casinos open up across the Northeast, professional protesters will soon recognize the fact that they have bitten themselves in the ass by petitioning a distance between one casino to another. What could have been a clump of casinos in a gaming district destination attraction competing with each other in aesthetics, entertainment, and accommodations is slowly becoming a state filled with townships known exclusively for their one underwhelming and unattractive slot barn.

Park Tower

The once-proposed Park Tower by Skidmore Owings and Merrill would have occupied the new site of the Family Court Building, gracefully mirroring the adjacent Phoenix while an adjoining tower would have added height to this unusual little corner of Center City.

New Family Court Building

At first glance I didn't think this building was so bad. Wedged between two avant garde mid-century mid-rises and the sexy Art Deco Metropolitan, it might be nice to have something subtle and bland bridging the gap and replacing a surface lot. Then I saw the price tag. $200 million. Who approves these numbers and how do they get so high? Unions, or just an inept administration bent on burning through as much money as possible. In any other city this building would cost less than $100 million. What makes it even worse is the architect, John W. Chase of EwingCole, basically apologizing for the sub-par design, saying it is good enough given the circumstances. If you're going to blame the economy for bad architecture, it should be priced appropriately. I know the $200 million covers more than the blueprints, but considering that is a large chunk of what the Comcast Center and the Convention Center expansion cost, there is room in that price for a better looking building.