Rinehart Building: Goodness in Albina

 

Sometime in the next few months, well-intentioned citizens operating as Albina Vision hope to offer plans for revitalizing what for decades was the heart of Portland’s African-American population, culture, society, religion, business and recreation.

 Bear in mind, however, “Everything that used to be in the neighborhood has been demolished,” says Winta Yohannes, Albina Vision’s managing director.

 Yes and no.  That is true in the confines being examined by Albina Vision just north of the Moda Center and Memorial Coliseum, where the group dreams of creating new housing, parks and business opportunities.  There is more territory in “old” Albina, however, and select properties are being restored, preserved and recognized for their historical importance.

 One of Albina’s greatest recent achievements is restoration of the 110-year old Rinehart Building at 3041 N. Williams Ave.  It was built in 1910 when the Williams Avenue streetcar was a prime mover of people between downtown and North Portland.  Albina in that era was populated heavily by Scandinavian and other European immigrants, before giving way to a heavily African-American population attracted by World War II jobs.  In an era of de facto segregation in Portland, Black residents were heavily channeled into Albina by Realtors and home lenders.

 The new population infused the neighborhood with stores, restaurants, bars, barbershops and many other small businesses.  Albina’s successful jazz nightclubs became a key destination for many of the nation’s best jazz musicians.

 The two-story brick Rinehart Building opened with shops on the ground floor and apartments above.  Though not imposing by today’s standards, it exemplified Albina’s commercial transition from wood-frame to masonry buildings.  The Rinehart’s turret at the corner of Williams and Monroe Street was intended as a beacon for streetcar riders; apartments and shops tended to focus on streetcar stops where riders got on and off. The designer was William H. Downing, who had started designing houses in Portland in 1890.  

James H. Rinehart, a real estate investor who came to Portland in 1907 from Eastern Oregon, lived in his building until his death in 1919.

The building was known more recently as the Cleo-Lilliann Social Club, an entertainment venue offering food, drinks, music and cards to African-American members.  The club succeeded Cleo’s Taver, which opened in 1957.  The club also raised money for neighborhood charities, from 1968 to its final closure in 2001, when building conditions had substantially deteriorated.  Noise complaints from neighbors were a final blow.

Peeling away old layers (National Register of Historic Places)

By then, Albina had suffered host of serious debilitations, starting with the demise of the streetcar in 1930.  Later, Union Avenue (now Martin Luther King Jr. Jr. Boulevard) became the main north-south highway.  In the late 1950s, Portland wiped out part of the neighborhood to build Veterans Memorial Coliseum, followed soon thereafter by more demolition for the Interstate-5 freeway.

The nastiest cut may have come in the early 1970s, when several blocks in the heart of the Albina commercial district were cleared for a proposed expansion of Emmanuel Hospital.  However, after all the demolition was finished federal funding for the hospital project evaporated.   Fifty years later, some blocks still remain vacant.  Meanwhile, many Black residents were driven away by predatory lenders and landlords. 

 “The Rinehart Building is significant as one of the few remaining commercial buildings in Albina with a high level of integrity associated with the social and cultural fabric of the African American community,” states the building’s registration on the National Register of Historic Places.

The original metal cornice was removed sometime in the 1980s.  At some point, the storefront windows were hidden by sheets of plywood.  The building sat vacant from 2001 until 2011, when Damon Stoudamire, a prominent Portland Trail Blazer, bought the building and vowed to restore it.

 A Portland resident, Brandon Brown, saw an opportunity in restoring the Rinehart Building.  He partnered with his father Timothy P. Brown, to buy it from Stoudamire and undertake the elaborate task of restoring the Rinehart Building in accord with rigorous U.S. Secretary of the Interior’s preservation standards.  The restoration was completed in 2013.

Today the ground floor has been restored to two storefronts, and the upstairs has been renovated into five, one-bedroom apartments.  (One apartment includes the turret.)  Working from historic photographs, crafts people were able to recreate the metal cornice.  Damaged bricks were replaced.

No matter what success is achieved by Albina Vision, the Rinehart Building and a few other significant buildings will stand as a reminder of a vibrant community that used to be.  We will look an another important Albina landmark next week. 

 

New Life for the Anna Mann House

 

                                                                (Emerick Architects)

The historic Anna Mann Old Peoples’ Home on 3.1 acres in Northeast Portland appears headed for a major transformation into a low-income community with 128 apartments.  If successful, the plan would restore an excellent vintage building and provide an important societal housing benefit.  

The plans by Innovative Housing Inc., a non-profit housing developer and management firm, would create new apartments in the Anna Mann House, erected in 1910, and add two new buildings on the eastern and southern edges of the property, located at 1021 N.E. 33rd Ave.

 “It’s a high priority for us to save old buildings and keep their integrity,” said Julie Garver, housing development director for IHI.   The agency has renovated three historic buildings with apartments in Old Town, addition to the Clifford Apartments in Southeast Portland.

 The original Anna Mann building was designed by Whitehouse and Fouilhoux, one of Portland’s most prominent firms of the era.  Their other notable work of the period included the University Club and Lincoln High School, now Lincoln Hall at Portland State University, and Jefferson High School.

 The style of the Anna Mann house is considered Tudor Revival or English Elizabethan.  Notable elements include brick walls, steeply pitched roofs, prominent gables,and cast stone lintels and sills at the windows.  The public rooms were trimmed with dark-stained Douglas fir, a common treatment for Arts and Crafts interiors in the Portland area.  Pleasingly, those interior details have been well-preserved.  The building was added to the National Register of Historic Places in 1992. 

 Wings were added the first building in 1953 and 1993.  Under plans by Emerick Architects, the original building and wings will be renovated into 39 apartments.  The original elderly residents were housing in single rooms with bathrooms down the halls.  Those single rooms will be reconfigured into apartments, Garver said. 

 A narrow new building abutting the eastern edge of the property would contain 49 units, and the new building on the south side would add 40 more.  The plans call for 71 parking spaces. 

 Despite the sizable building additions to the property, space is reserved for a gazebo/picnic area and two grassy play areas.  Trees and foliage would buffer the northern boundary along Sandy Boulevard.

 The project is aimed at the difficult challenge of providing housing for low-income families.  Of the 128 apartments, 42 would be targeted for residents earning less than 30 percent of the region’s median family income.  The remaining 86 units are intended for families earning less than 60 percent of the median income.  Sixty-six apartments will have one bedroom, followed by 48 with two, 13 with three and one with four bedrooms.

 Anna Mann was the wife of a successful Portland real estate entrepreneur Peter John Mann, who died in 1908.  The couple had purchased land to build a charitable home for the elderly just before his death.  Anna Mann pressed ahead with the project tin his memory.  It opening it to its first residents in January, 1911.

 

                                                                    (Emerick Architects)

The goal of the home was to provide single rooms for elderly residents, as well as attractive rooms for meetings and dining.  Garver said the intent of the renovation of the original building is to retain the stylish woodwork that adds a warm attractiveness to the Tudor interiors.

The home remained in operation until 1982, when financial issues led to its closure.  The building served later as an alcoholic rehabilitation center and later as the Movement Center, a home for yoga and meditation.  The Movement Center sold the building earlier this year to Innovative Housing.

 Garver said the Movement Center took good care of the building for more than 25 years and cooperated with Innovative Housing in arranging financing for the sale. Innovative Housing hopes to file building permits late this year and begin renovation and construction in mid- 2021.  She estimates the project will take 20 months to complete. 

 The Anna Mann property sits in the Kerns neighborhood, but abuts Laurelhurst.  Garver said both neighborhood associations favor the Innovative Housing plan.

 

 

New Landscape at Multnomah County Central Library

 

(Henneberry-Eddy Architecture)

It isn’t clear what A.E. Doyle had in mind, if anything, for landscaping the fringes of ground on three sides of the Multnomah County Central Library when it was completed 107 years ago. 

 Faced with the difficulty of a block that sloped in two directions, Doyle backed up the rear of the building flush to the S.W. 11th Avenue sidewalk, and then centered it between side yards approximately 25 feet wide on the north and south, and roughly the same width on either side of the grand staircase to the east in front.  

 On those three frontages, Doyle designed a balustrade at the public sidewalks interrupted occasionally by benches.  “Doyle’s magical touch is the way in which he steps his surrounding wall, alternating benches with sections of wall, effectively concealing the extreme slope of the site, and reducing the scale of what is actually a very large building,” wrote architectural historian Richard Ritz.

 But that left the earth between the edges of the building and the sidewalk balustrade.  The landscaping was primarily grass in the early years, and has undergone a number of changes through the decades.  Now, faced with drainage issues, a non-compliant wheelchair ramp installed in 1982 and a desire to make the “open space” more functional for public uses, the library is overseeing a new landscape design.

 Primary elements include a longer, less-steep wheelchair ramp, two paved terraces on either side of the main staircase, new outdoor lighting near the front of the building at a low retaining wall to break up the steeper slope on the north and northeastern yards.

The revisions also would solve the problem of an emergency exit on the north side “that basically goes nowhere,” said David Wark, a principal of Henneberry-Eddy Architects, the firm designing the changes.  At present, the door empties into the side yard, but there is no way out short of wandering through the foliage and climbing the balustrade.  Under the new design, a narrow walkway would connect the door with the new terrace abutting the main stairway at the front of the building.

In accord with changes approved by the Portland Historic Landmarks Commission, the wheelchair ramp that currently creates an entrance from the sidewalk through space formerly occupied by one of the benches will be moved one bench to the south, providing a gentler slope to the main entry.  The bench that was removed for the original accessibility ramp will be replaced to look like an original.

 

(Henneberry-Eddy Architecture) 

As illustrated above, the north terrace would have room for tables and chairs.  The library envisions the space being used for book sales or outdoor classes.  Since eating and drinking are not allowed in the building, the terraces could be pleasant places for coffee or snacks in nice weather.  The illustration also shows the low retaining wall that eventually will be covered from view by vegetation.

 The planting scheme calls for low-lying plants that should not provide hiding spaces for campers or for disposal of trash.  No current trees will be removed from the library grounds.

  

(Henneberry-Eddy Architecture)

 Seating will be less optimal in the south terrace, above, because it must allow room for the accessibility entrance. 

"It's a beautiful addition to a beautiful building," Landmarks Commissioner Maya Foty said the the plan.  

 “I’m really glad to see this package come through,” said Landmarks Chair Kristen Minor. "I think it will create options that weren’t there before.”  If so, that will be an additional plus for what clearly is one of the best public buildings in Portland.

 If the discussion here provokes a reader’s interest in A.E. Doyle and his abundant contributions to Portland’s architecture, “Beauty of the City” by Philip Niles is an excellent biography.  Multiple copies are available at the Multnomah County Library, of course.

 

An Architectural Love Story

 

 As a teenager in the 1960s, I rode the blue suburban buses to the Multnomah County Central Library a couple times per month, primarily to go to the basement newspaper room to read Jim Murray sports columns in the Los Angeles Times.

As a sophomore in high school, I went many times to look at catalogues of colleges to which I might apply. 

At the time, I could have told you about the grand staircase in the lobby and about the huge Audubon bird book encased in plastic nearby.  And I could tell you about the musty aroma of the newspaper room.

What did the library building look like?  Uh, maybe I knew it was built with bricks.  Other than that, I could tell you nothing.  Like most Americans, I didn’t have a clue about how to look at a building, or why I might even want to.

All that changed my sophomore year in college.  At an overseas campus program in Britain, I chanced to take some architectural history classes.  I learned about some of the architectural eras from the classical to Modern.   I visited several of the great cities of Europe and wandered through cathedral after cathedral.  While many of my fellow students were bored by cathedrals, I stood in wonder at their size, their artistry and their amazing engineering feats – long before the days of scientific engineering.

I learned to stop and look at buildings – just for the sake of looking.  And I never tired of it.  To this day, when I plan to venture into a new city, I do research to see what significant buildings there are to see.  No wonder, then, that upon my return to Portland one of my first missions was to see buildings in my own environment – really for the first time.

One of the first I looked at was the Multnomah County Central Library – in all of its early 20th Century Georgian Revival beauty.  Frankly, I stood still in awe while taking in the brick and limestone façade, its paired pilasters at the corners, its three elegant arched entrances and the symmetrically-spaced large windows at the second floor, the balustrade topping the eaves.  This was, to my mind, one of the greatest buildings anywhere in Portland.  After admiring it for several decades, I still feel the same way.

The origins of Georgian architecture relate to England in the 18th Century -- the reign of King George III -- when the manufacture of bricks made them a study and cost-effective construction choice.  The architecture quickly  migrated to the Colonies, despite contempt for King George.  Thus Americans often call the style "colonial" rather than Georgian.

The library was an early downtown achievement from the architectural office of A.E. Doyle, whose firms designed about 20 downtown buildings – still more than any other firm in Portland.  Besides his work downtown, Doyle designed the English Gothic buildings at the heart of the Reed College campus.  Doyle’s own story was equally interesting, as a largely self-taught architect whose career thrived in the Roaring 20s, but was cut short by his death from a kidney disease in 1928.

The library was built on a tight budget.  Doyle kept costs down by eliminating interior hallways and scrimping on additional exterior adornment he had in mind.  An interesting and inexpensive adornment was the inscription of the names of many of history’s greatest writers and thinkers on spandrels below the large windows. Regardless of its simplicity, the library’s beauty and excellent proportions shine through.

 

The library comes to mind these days because changes are afoot for the landscaping within balustrades that adjoin sidewalks on three sides of the building.   We shall explore these revisions in this space next week.

An elementary guide to looking at buildings

Meanwhile, if you are not accustomed to stopping and looking at buildings, here are some basic suggestions that might be helpful:

1) What holds the building up?  Wood?  Stone?  Brick?  Steel frame? Reinforced concrete?  The structure is a determining factor in what happens next.

2) What is the building’s function?  Does the design reflect one or more uses within its spaces? What effect do you think the architect was trying to achieve?

3) What is the overall nature of the façade?  Is it symmetrical, or non-symmetrical?

4) Look at the placement of the windows.  Do they follow a pattern?

5) Look for “decorations.”  Are there columns? Brackets at the eaves?  Casings atop or around the windows? Balustrades?

6) Is there a historical “style” present?  This is particularly useful in looking at “old” buildings.  Classical?  Georgian? Italianate? Romanesque?  Second French Empire?  Gothic?  Art Deco? This will require a little research on your part to learn about historical styles, but it is easy to find basic examples on the internet.

I hope these basic guidelines will give you a greater appreciation of the human-built environment, and add richness to your lives in the way it has in mine.  The next time you go near a building that is important in your life, stop for a moment and LOOK at it.  Take it all in.  Perhaps for the first time.  

Updates: Concordia Campus, Molalla Log House

 

The Sept. 27 article about the vacant Concordia University campus attracted one of the highest volumes of readers in the modest history of this blog.  Many people said they’d like to see the campus used for emergency housing, low-income housing or a combination of low-income and market-rate housing.

Given land-use zoning issues, the quickest path for the 24-acre campus would be to remain as an institutional campus.  Wayfinding Academy, alternative two-year college in North Portland, has expressed interest in acquiring some but not all of the Concordia buildings.  That option appears tenuous, at best, given the hardships of carving up the resource.

Nick Bertram, a friend of mine who graduated from Concordia High School before the institution advanced to the collegiate level, offered another interesting idea.  He believes Portland State University should acquire it to add housing and classroom space for PSU students.

Taking over the whole campus also would give PSU a genuine home field for its women’s soccer and softball programs and men’s and women’s tennis teams.  A PSU graduate, Bertram thinks the university could simply move an academic program of an appropriate size to the Concordia academic buildings. 

Public acquisition of a former private college is not unprecedented in Portland.  Cascade College closed its North Portland campus in 1969, unable to pay mortgages it owed on new buildings.  The campus, with the help of tax funding over many years, has morphed into the attractive Portland Community College Cascade campus.

Since this blog concentrates on the value of historic buildings, the comments of Paul Falsetto, an architect who frequently visited the Concordia campus, are relevant:

“Years ago I was researching university alumni centers, and one factoid stayed with me. After conducting scores of interviews with college graduates, it was determined that three elements have the most important influences on graduates’ memories: the people they met, the buildings they inhabited, and the open space that defined the campus.

“Seems to me that with the movement towards online education, both as a business model and as a pandemic response, today’s students will miss out on all three. I’m hoping that our region’s higher education institutions are able to tread wisely during this time of challenge, and retain what they do and where they do it. An active campus grows roots that run deep in the experiences and memories of alumni and neighbors alike.”

Those of us who attended attractive campuses where we lived and went to school would agree. 

 

                                                               (Pamela Hayden photo)

 Fortunately, recent major forest fires in Clackamas County did not threaten the Molalla Log House, the venerable building that may be among the oldest in Oregon, undergoing restoration in the Hopkins Experimental Forest north of Mulino.

The history of this interesting structure was related in an Aug. 12 article on this blog.  Hand-hewn timbers that were rescued years ago from another location are believe to be from 140 to more than 200 years old, depending on which analysis one chooses to accept.

While all the timbers fit together tightly without need for metal fasteners, modern building codes would not allow reconstruction of the roof without steel support.  Pamela Hayden, who has dedicated many years to saving and reconstructing the log building, said there was no choice other than adding steel supports so the building eventually can be used for tours and meetings.

“We will have a seismically safe building,” Hayden says.  “The irony is that in the recent fires the only thing that remains in severely burned wooden buildings are their steel components - sadly stark in the embers.”

Research suggests that the building has had several roofs during its lengthy life.  The exact nature of the original one is not known.  Gregg Olson, a craftsman and scholar of historic woodworking, is fabricating a roof that he believes to be close to what the original may have been.

“Preservationists must stay steadfast,” Hayden says.  “Our first priority was to do everything possible to keep the original integrity of the log building as close to the original builders’ intent as possible - trying to adhere closely to the Secretary of Interior Standards for Historic Rehabilitation.  This took a lot of study, research, time and last but not least - new Douglas fir wood and lots of money to hire the labor of qualified and knowledgeable craftsmen.

“We definitely had to be open to making some modifications since another priority was to make the building accessible to the pubic inside and out.   The good news is we will have a building that will last at least another 100 years (hopefully) with ongoing maintenance - that can be enjoyed by generations of new learners and architectural history buffs.”

                                                               (Pamela Hayden photo)

Watering-down Portland Preservation Regulations

 

For the past several years, planning agencies at the state and city of Portland have issued a steady drip, drip of regulations aimed at diluting state and local historic preservation laws.

 The latest proposed swipe at history comes in the proposed city’s Historic Resources Code Project.  Under the worst analysis, the proposed changes would virtually eliminate the possibility of adding new historic resources while hacking away on the boundaries of existing historic districts.

 The Code Project is a comprehensive reworking of the city’s preservation laws, prompted in part by the state Land Conservation and Development Commission’s decision in 2016 to reduce design review of changes for historic buildings included in National Register Districts.

 The proposed changes are the result of three years of examination by the City of Portland to reorganize its rules about historic resources.  Brandon Spencer-Hartle, the city’s historic resources manager, told heritage advocates that public comments during the study were split: Many people thought the city wasn’t aggressive enough in protecting historic, while many others felt the preservation rules were too restrictive on new development.  Spencer-Hartle said the proposal aimed at “balancing” those competing views.

 The “balance” limits the power of the city’s Historic Landmarks Commission, and would have the Planning and Sustainability Commission make recommendations to the City Council on any new historic districts.

 As it stands, the Planning Commission is weighted with representatives of the development community, and at present has nobody with any historical interest or knowledge. 

 “The PSC is largely opposed to any sort of preservation,” said Rod Merrick, an Eastmoreland architect who has been deeply involved in preservation.  “This is very, very troubling.”

 Jim Heuer, an Irvington resident and historian of Portland’s neighborhoods, is concerned that the PSC also would be enabled to ask the City Council to reduce or modify current historic districts.  He said the proposal “sees historic designation as a ‘zero sum game’ between the historically dominant culture and underserved and under-represented communities, so that we need to de-designate historic resources associated with ‘over-represented’ communities, rather than simply broadening our concept of what is ‘historic.’’

He added, “The proposal allows districts to be resized and protections removed if the goals and policies of the Comprehensive Plan are better served in the opinion of City Council and the PSC.”

Indeed, one of the rationale's for the putting the PSC in the driver's seat for any new historic districts is that the PSC, not the Landmarks Commission, is charged with reviewing zoning code rules that determine what kinds of activities and buildings can occur in any of the city's dozens of land-use zones.

At a work session on Oct. 12, Kristen Minor, chair of the Landmarks Commission, said, "There are some really great things in the (proposed) code, as well as some we are concerned by."  The commission she chairs will discuss the code further before preparing testimony for the Planning Commission later this month.

One important amendment to the proposed new rules would be requiring at least some of the PSC members to be knowledgeable about architectural history and Portland's neighborhood history.  For the past several years, the PSC has been largely dismissive of any public testimony speaking to the value of Portland history. 

 Spencer-Hartle said the Landmarks Commission would play an advisory role to the Planning Commission in recommending new districts or amendments or down-sizing of existing districts.  Heuer said the proposal would take the Landmarks Commission “out of the process of adding potentially historic resources to the ‘significant historic resources’ list, which is the first important step in designating new historic resources and districts.”

 There is no desire here to criticize Spencer-Hartle for this unfortunate proposal.  He is trained in preservation and worked for Restore Oregon, a state-wide preservation advocacy non-profit before going to work for the city.  Heuer believes Spencer-Hartle has added a few elements that could benefit preservation despite pressure from his bosses at the Bureau of Planning and Sustainability and from Eli Spivak, the chair of the PSC, a developer/builder. who has firmly opposed preservationists’ concerns over several years.  

If approved, the changes would make it easier to add solar panels to buildings in historic districts.  It also would be easier to remove “secondary” buildings from a historic site, such as small or non-functional garages.

 The changes also would put the Landmarks Commission in charge of hearings, not currently available, when an owner wants to demolish a building that has been identified as a historic resource but has not been designated as a landmark or located in a historic district.  The proposal also suggests greater flexibility in finding new uses for historic buildings that otherwise would not comply with current zoning rules.  That latter element could help valued historic properties find successful new lives. 

 Before going to the City Council, the proposed new rules will be heard by the Planning Commission on Oct. 27.  As Spencer-Hartle noted -- which some take as a warning --  the commission can amend the proposal as it wishes.  That being the case, some of the "positives" for historic preservation could be removed. 

 The hearing will be held via the internet.  More information about the proposal and details on how to testify can be found at www.portland.gov/bps/hrcp

For the dedicated among you, you can find more than 200 pages of specific code changes if you filter far enough through the website.  Trying to absorb it all is a daunting task. 

Fairmount Apartments

 

How many times do we hear that an old building is too decrepit to save?

 Frankly, no building is beyond saving if there is enough willpower or a sharpened financial pencil or some combination of both.

Take the Fairmount Apartments on Northwest 26th Avenue, for example.  It was built in 1904-05 as an upscale hotel abutting the Vaughn Street entrance of the Lewis & Clark Centennial Exposition.  The fair, created by Portland’s early civic and economic boosters, drew more than 2 million visitors during its four-month fun and fueled the young city’s rapid population growth.

The two-story hotel, built in the shape of an E with the spine on 26th and legs extending along Upshur and Vaughn Streets, had 150 rooms and a dining room that served more than a thousand meals a day.  Rooms rented for $1 per night; dinner was 35 cents.

Alas, the fair site had already been sold for industrial development, making it a difficult location for a hotel.  Located far from the heart of town, the hotel soon lapsed into inexpensive single-room housing.  Its physical condition deteriorated as the years passed.  Today, it is believed to be the last building built for the fair still in its original location. 

The nadir for the Hotel Fairmount, later known as the Evergreen Apartments, likely occurred in 1982, when city fire officials declared it to be possibly the city’s worst firetrap.  By then, fire safety equipment was either inoperable or nonexistent.  The roof leaked.  Units on the second floor had no functioning heat, and were warmed by kitchen stoves.  A fire marshal predicted that it would take less than an hour for the wooden, two-story building to burn to the ground, threatening the safety of 150 low-income residents.

A judge ordered the building to be vacated if repairs were not made quickly.  “If they think this place is so bad, they should check out living under the Burnside Bridge,” said one tenant who felt he could not find housing elsewhere.

The city government came through with a $65,000 emergency loan that year, but progress was tedious.  The building had many years ahead in a declining state.

In 2000, the building was owned by Brad Malsin who has a history of renovating historic buildings.  He funded an application that listed the Fairmount on the National Register of Historic Places, largely because of its connection with the fair and the urban growth it promoted.

The architect and builder of the Fairmount are not known.  Surprisingly, the registration form does not speak highly of the building’s architecture.  “Although the Fairmount is not of great merit stylistically, it is significant as a unique vernacular example of an early 20th century wood-frame hotel,” it says.  “Few wood-frame commercial buildings of this vintage remain in Portland today.”

Regardless, the building is still attractive to the eye with details common at the time, including paired brackets at the eaves and a simple cornice.  Porticos project from the west and south sides, set off with wooden quoins to define the corners.  A recessed, one-story porch covers all three sides, with simple square columns supporting the upper story.  The first floor is finished with rough stucco, and the second with horizontal wooden siding.

“Although it has been neglected and requires significant restoration, the mere fact that the Fairmount remains, essentially in original form, is astounding,” the registration form noted in 2000. “The current owner of this still rather notorious building is aware of its historical significance and intends to completely restore the Fairmount.”

It was no simple task. Funding ultimately was finalized by Urban Development+Partners, a firm that recruits investors for buildings both new and historic.  Finally completed in 2018, the $6 million Fairmount project completely revamped the interior into 80 apartments, including studio, one and two bedroom units.  The exterior was restored to close to its original appearance with historically-accurate materials.

While the Fairmount has seen a lot of change in its life, so has the Northwest Portland neighborhood near it.  Some heavy industry and trucking enterprises have disappeared, and more apartments have sprouted immediately to the south and west.  These developments over the years no doubt made the Fairmount more attractive as a restoration project.    

Now 115 years old, the revamped Fairmount should have a long life.  It gives the neighborhood a welcome taste of early 20th Century architecture and a hint of the big fair that helped place Portland as a major Pacific Northwest city.

What happens to the Concordia University campus?

 

For the first time in 115 years, there are no students this fall on the Northeast Portland campus of Concordia University.

The lawns are brown.  Doors locked.  Windows closed and dark.  Parking lots empty.  Athletic field vacant.

A pedestrian walking though these 24 acres absent of humanity can’t help thinking:   “Something is wrong here.”  Indeed.  Was it some kind of high-tech bomb that saved the buildings but wiped out the people?  Nope.  The local board of trustees pulled the plug quickly without notice earlier this year, ending CU’s history at the end of the spring 2020 semester.

 Those looking for answers got nowhere.  Nobody in the official realm was willing to talk; calls were not returned.  There may be layers of reasons for the closure, and we’ll touch on them in a bit.

 Concordia never ranked with Portland’s fanciest colleges such as Reed or Lewis and Clark.  It began in 1905 as a Lutheran Church-related private high school.  It expanded to a junior college in 1950 and to an accredited four-year university in 1977, dropping the high school along the way.

Its strongest programs were educating teachers and nurses.  It competed athletically with small, mostly church-related Pacific Northwest colleges in several sports and toward the end of its life ranked as a national power among small-college women’s soccer programs.

 Unlike many colleges, Concordia worked closely with the surrounding neighborhood.  Student teachers gained experience at Faubion School, just across the street.  Neighborhood residents were welcome to use the library and buy meals at the cafeteria.  Neighborhood teams used the sports fields.

 Your correspondent taught journalism on a part-time basis at Concordia from 2007 to 12.  During that time, the administration decided to make a major push into on-line instruction for teachers.  Graduates of the on-line program would set foot on campus only once – graduation day. 

Many of the 1200 or so undergraduates who lived on campus at the time were leery of the internet-education plans.  They felt that s significant part of the Concordia was participating in campus life.  They feared that a blizzard of on-line degrees might denigrate their on-campus degrees. Closure of the entire institution was never even perceived as a possibility.

The first decade of the century brought impressive changes to the campus, including a grand three-story library, new housing and a mini-stadium with an all-weather surface for soccer and baseball.  The campus definitely was "moving up" in spirit and physical quality.

George H. White Library 

 Admissions jumped dramatically with the on-line education program.  Nevertheless, Concordia apparently fell far behind in payments to a California firm, Hotchalk Inc., which curried and processed applications and “serviced” the on-line students.

 Meanwhile, the university evidently got cross-ways with its parent, the conservative Missouri Lutheran Synod that objected to creation of a resource center for gay, lesbian and transgender students.  (Methinks these devout Christians forgot to have a discussion with Jesus on that one.)

 To whatever extent all these issues merged, there appeared to be no answer locally.  So, boom, plug pulled. University gone.  Litigation with Hotchalk is already pending.

What becomes of the 24-acre campus?  It is for sale by the Lutheran Church Extension Fund, a financial services arm of the Missouri Synod in St. Louis.  It could be a turn-key purchase for a small college, but in this era, small colleges are facing tough times.  The internet as a high-education savior  is a bumpier road than expected.  

Athletic field 

 Could the campus be parted out?  Certainly the dorm rooms and apartments could be sold for housing and could be used immediately.  The gymnasium and athletic field could be a plum for the Portland Parks Bureau.  The new library and the much older administration building and faculty offices could easily resurface as offices. 

The short answer is that nothing will happen quickly.  Changed uses could require slow and costly city land-use zone changes from the current “campus institution” zone.  What happens to the debt on recent campus additions is anybody’s guess.

 Vacancies and delays are never good for any building, old or new.  The longer that time passes, the dimmer the future looks for what’s left of Concordia University.

 

Saving the Postmaster's House

One of the grand beauties of architectural preservation is that a dedicated single individual can save a historic building and assure its continued cultural benefit to the community.

Take Mike Lyons, for instance.  Twenty years ago he stepped up to buy a large but deteriorating Queen Anne Victorian-era house and move it four miles from its original lot in Irvington to the Woodlawn neighborhood.

True, he was able to buy the house for $1 because a developer planned to demolish it to make way for row houses as a result of a city of Portland zone change.  The development value of the 10,000-square foot lot made the future impossible at that location impossible for the house, no matter how attractive it was architecturally.  Several people had been interested in acquiring the house, but Lyons was the only one to step forward with a proposal to move it.

 It was not an easy move, however.  The top story had to be removed in order to fit under power lines and not damage trees during the four-mile trek up Martin Luther King Jr. Boulevard.  For a fee of $80,000 in 2000, the bottom portion was placed on dollies for towing.  Giant forklifts carted the upper story and eventually hoisted it back into place. 

 “The hardest part was placing no-parking signs along the route,” Lyons said.  “There had to be three or four signs per block.  That is a lot of blocks.”

 The house, often referred to as the Postmaster’s House for reasons we shall discuss in a bit, was built in 1895, during the peak of the Queen Anne architectural style of Victorian era.  The building displays several prominent elements of Queen Anne residences, including the unbalanced or asymmetrical front façade composed of a large gable and the smaller gabled dormer; a fancy wooden decoration at the gable’s peak; fish-scale shingles in addition to horizontal siding; and numerous turned spindles in spandrels decorating the front porch.

We can think of these decorations as celebrations of the industrial revolution, when machines were perfected to crank out the decorative pieces.  The intellectual and artistic rebellion that followed brought us the Arts and Crafts movement, when designs reverted to much simpler creations created by human hands rather than machines.

 

It took about a year’s worth of work replacing the stripped interior and all utilities before Lyons could begin living in the 1895-era residence.  “I still love the house,” he said.  But like any old house, the restoration is still not finished.  “I keep telling myself one more year,” he said.

The house has historical interest in addition to its architectural values.  It was the home of Portland postmaster Frank S. Myers, who was appointed to that job in 1913 by President Woodrow Wilson and reappointed by Wilson in 1917.  Wilson subsequently had second thoughts about Myers and fired him in 1920.

 The source of Wilson’s discontent is not firmly established.  It may have been because Myers was slow to rehire soldiers return from World War I, or because of conflicts Myers had with Portland Mayor George Baker.  Regardless, Myers challenged his termination in court, contending that since his job was filled with “advice and consent” from the Senate, he could not be fired without the Senate’s approval.  Myers asked for the pay that he believed should be coming to him.

 Alas, the case wasn’t decided by the U.S. Supreme Court until 1926.  By then Myers had died, but his wife stood in line in case he won his back pay.  In a split decision, the court said the president had authority to fire anyone in his administration.  The case firmly established the separation of the president’s executive power from the legislative authority of Congress.

 Over the following decades, the Postmaster’s House fell into decline, like many large houses of the Victorian era.  It had been used as a boarding house for many years before Lyons acquired it.  Though its exterior looked forlorn, Lyons said the building was still structurally sound and that much of its original interior woodwork remained.

Twenty years after the move, we can still thank Lyons for his dedication and hard work in the spirit of preservation.  Lyons, who runs a paint-removal and architectural woodworking business, hasn't given up on preservation.  He's currently working on a long-vacant rural farmhouse nearly overrun by blackberries.  

Original site of Postmaster's House 

Coming soon to S.E. Grand Avenue

 

Flatworks Building (TVA Architects)

Robert Thompson is one of the lions in Portland’s contemporary architecture world.  As a founding partner and principal of TVA Architects, he leads a large firm with a long history of designing sleek, modern buildings with lots of glass and metal finishes.

In Portland, his firm did the Fox Tower (27n stories), Park Avenue West (30 stories)  and the John Ross condominium (32 stories).  In Beaverton, TVA designed the Nike World Headquarters.  In Eugene, the Matthew Knight Arena.  You get the idea. Big, new, fancy stuff.  

 An outsider never knows who all contributes to a large firm’s designs, but when it comes to dealing with public agencies, Thompson is the firm's speaker.  His presentations are direct, focused, professional, polite and delivered with consistent modulated enthusiasm.

A bystander was curious to see how Thompson and TVA would react to an unusual project for the firm as it went about preparing plans for an eight-story, half-block building that will replace a parking lot in the East Portland-Grand Avenue National Historic District.  It is a little-known, narrow district running along the Grand Avenue spine where contributing buildings date from 1883 to 1930.

TVA’s assignment was to design a building that would fit into the context of its historic neighbors without giving the impression of mimicking something "old."  The developer-client is a firm headed by Vanessa Sturgeon, who was involved in the Fox Tower and Park Avenue West projects designed by TVA. Sturgeon's presence suggests new investment interest in what has been a sleepy neighborhood for many years.

 We may begin seeing the results soon.  Sturgeon told the Portland Historic Landmarks Commission that the project is “fully funded and ready to break ground.”  The Flatworks Building will sit on the east side of Grand Avenue between S.E. Ash and Pine Streets at the northern edge of the district.

 The simplest part of the building’s design is its structure.  Structural elements and floors will be composed of cross-laminated timber, a relatively recent engineered wood product fabricated by laminating wood layers at 90-degree angles.  At eight stories, Flatworks would rank among the tallest to use the new structural technique in Portland.

 Developing the building’s exterior envelope was not so simple.  To their credit, Thompson and his team studied almost all of the nearby historic buildings to look for design cues.  In a series of meetings with the Landmarks Commission, Thompson showed seven or eight potential versions for the new building.  “We are not trying to design a building that leaps out at you,” he said.  “We want it to blend into the district.”

 The biggest design choice was to take the full-block façade facing Grand Avenue and make it look like two buildings rather than one.  A recessed main entry to the office building separates the two “sections.”  The distinction is important because only one other historic building in the district had a  a 200-foot frontage.

Dotted line shows district boundaries.  Contributing buildings in red. (TVA Architects)

 The norther portion of Flatworks at eight stories will be faced in a dark grey brick while bricks on the six story side will be cream-colored.   Two recessed stories on the six-story side will give the appearances of being a penthouse.  Recessed bays at the ground level will be available for retail uses. 

 Thompson said the cross-laminated timbers will be visible at night when the building is lit.  Recessed spandrels accentuate windows in the darker portion of the building, while metallic shrouds around the windows of the lighter building portion will extend several inches beyond the brick columns. The shrouds “will create a lot of texture and shadows when you come up Grand Avenue,” Thompson said.

 

Flatworks at night.  (TVA Architects)

Thompson’s presentations were professional and direct, as usual.  Perhaps the only glitches occurred when he referred to the district’s high-rise Weatherly Building a couple times as the Waverly (as in Waverly County Club). A minor slip, if you will.

 Members of the landmarks commission thanked him for his flexibility.  "We asked for some real changes and we've seen some real changes," said Kristen Minor, commission chair.  Anne Mahoney, an architect who sits on the commission, said the result “strikes the right balance between respecting the historic district and a restrained contemporary attitude.”

 If Thompson was fatigued by the sequence of commission meetings, he didn’t show it.  “Thank you so much for the process,” he told the commission and the city staff.  “It has been a delight. I'm looking forward to construction."

 

Good News for the Multnomah County Courthouse

 

The verdict is in for the soon-to-be “old” Multnomah County Courthouse.  It looks like an excellent victory for preservation and for finding a successful new use for an important piece of Portland history.

If the proposed renovation is successful, the scene of countless civil and criminal legal cases and public hearings over the past 106 years will become an office building holding approximately 1,000 employees.  New elevator and service cores erected in what originally was a central courtyard (long since filled in by three stories) will allow seismic bracing to occur without doing serious damage to the rest of the eight-story building.

 From the outside, viewers will see virtually no changes to the limestone façade with its heavy Ionic columns facing S.W. Fourth Ave. between Main and Salmon Streets.  The historic vestibule, main lobby and grand staircase that traverses the first six floors will remain intact. 

 Four, two-story courtooms, two each on the third and fifth floors, will be retained for potential uses as board rooms or meeting venues.  They will be reminders of when court proceedings were intended to occur in locations of grandeur and dignity. 

  Most of the rest of the eight stories will be parceled into offices, although as yet no tenants have signed on.  An “event space” will be placed towards the rear of the ground floor, with an elegant restored entrance from the center of the S.W. Fifth Avenue side.

 

Old blocked entry on Fifth Avenue

There are a couple other lesser changes proposed for the north and south sides of the building, but let’s talk first about the more historic entrance on Fifth Avenue.  This entrance originally led to a short stairway taking pedestrians to the second floor.  However, this entrance was filled in with stone many decades ago in order to provide additional office and courtroom space on the second floor.  However, the large light fixtures and bracketed lintel and chevron were left in place on the façade. .

 

Agustin Enriquez, an architect with GBD Architects who outlined the building’s changes, said spherical globes that originally graced the doorway will be recreated, as will globes placed at the Front Avenue side.  He said stairs and ramps from the new Fifth Avenue entry will take pedestrians to a first-floor event space that is yet to be designed.

 

Restored entrance (GBD Architects)

Here are the other two less-dramatic exterior changes.  In the middle of the block on the Salmon Street side, a central bay at the sidewalk level will become a service entry with a roll-down door for dumpsters and other service.  This entry will not be accessible by motor vehicles.

 On the Main Street side near Fourth Avenue, a double door will be cut into the wall to create a double doorway for access to the main lobby for people with disabilities.  The historic vestibule on the Fourth Avenue side includes a tier of stairs that will not be modified.

As a surprise to many, the location of the “new” Main Street doorway actually echoes an original entrance to the county sheriff’s office at that location.  The sheriff’s entrance disappeared many decades ago, and the outer wall was patched seamlessly to match.

All exterior changes to the building have been approved by the Portland Historic Landmarks Commission.  The commission had jurisdiction over the plans because of the building’s status as a historic landmark.

 The construction of the building in two stages between 1911 and 1914 ranked as a technological feat.  It was built as two separate L-shaped buildings while the earlier courthouse on the same site, dating to 1864, was dismantled.  When finished, the two L-shaped sides of the new building fit together perfectly. At the grand opening, citizens flooded in to ride the elevators which were still a new and rare mechanical contraption for Portland at the time. 

 Architects of the courthouse we see today were William Whidden and Ion Lewis who headed Portland’s most prominent design firm in the late 19th and early 20th Centuries. The courthouse was their last major endeavor.  Many of their notable works survive, including Portland City Hall, the Arlington Club, Wilcox Building, Postal Building and others.

 If plans for remodeling the courthouse succeed as planned, the historic structure will stand as an excellent example of preservation and adaptive re-use uses for historic building that reflects architectural value and the remembrance of human history that occurred inside.