Harry Green House (Part 2)

 

Standing as a monument to the Roaring Twenties when it was designed and built, the impressive Harry and Ada Green mansion on the edge of Laurelhurst Park and its short list of owners have seen the same ups-and-downs common to the larger society.

Green, who had become the second president of the 1000-employee Doernbecher Furniture Manufacturing Co. in the 1920s, bought the oversized lot next to the impressive brick home of former mayor H. Russell Albee and recruited architect Herman Brookman to design a mansion.

“The Harry A. and Ada Green House was commissioned in 1927 on the heels of the Frank Estate and by a wealthy social climber,” states the mansion’s submission to the National Register of Historic Places.  “The house is one of few that falls into the early revival period of Brookman's work, as the stock market crash of 1929 brought the lavish spending of the 1920s to an end. It is the only design of that period to fully explore the Spanish, Mediterranean, and African influences during the height of the Spanish revival craze that was fueled by the Panama-California Exposition of 1915 --- which brought the architecture of Southern California, Mexico, Spain, and Italy, as well as Muslim details to national attention…”

It was a busy time for Brookman, who had been recruited from New York to design a lavish estate for M. Lloyd Frank in the Southwest Hills.  At the same time, he was working with other leading Portland architects on Temple Beth Israel, the Northwest Portland synagogue that truly ranks as one of Portland’s finest buildings.

The Green house and landscaping cost $430,000, which an inflation calculator says would be about $6.5 million today.  The Greens, who had been married as teenagers in 1909, moved in with six servants.

How long they enjoyed their grand residence is hard to say.  In 1950, Ada Green sued for divorce, claiming alcohol and drug abuse by her husband.  There were times, she said in court, when he locked her out of the house.  The number of servants had declined from six to three.  Harry Green, who was removed as president from the Doernbecher firm the same year, did not contest the divorce.

A judge ordered payment of $320,000 to Ada Green and half of the house, then valued at $400,000.  Newspapers described it as the largest divorce settlement in Oregon to that date.

Waiting to buy the mansion was Robert Bitar, a native of Lebanon who had come to Oregon as a teenager.  He and his brother, Frank, opened a grocery store and Robert delivered groceries by bicycle to the Greens, and he vowed someday to own it.   The two men later branched into construction and real estate development.

 The Bitar ownership lasting until 2000 marked good years far for the house, which soon became known as the Bitar mansion.  Robert Bitar became an honorary counsel for Lebanon in 1957, and the basement ballroom was used for many quasi-diplomatic events.  The family remodeled the kitchen twice during those years, and learned to manage the mansion without servants.  The house was a popular site for children on Halloween, because of the generous treats given by the Bitars. 

(National Register)

 Robert Bitar died in 2000 and it was clear the family would not retain the house.  A small contingent in the Laurelhurst neighborhood hoped the city would buy it as an event location, but the suggestion generated no traction.  The mansion was finally sold in 2006 to its third owner.  Trouble awaited. 

 “The first decade of the twenty-first century brought the greatest changes to the property as the third owners began some repairs and remodels including removal of the garage doors, refinishing of the pool, repairs to patio roof beams (locations unknown) and stucco, refinishing of the wood floors throughout, and electrical upgrades,” the National Register registration says.  “The kitchen was gutted, but the remodel was never finished and ultimately the property was left to neglect and vandalism. Many of the plantings and site features such as fountains also fell into disrepair during this period.”

 After five years and disputes with neighbors, the third owners gave up and allowed the mansion to go into foreclosure.  While the house was empty, the Architectural Heritage Center included it on a home tour in 2011.  The kitchen was down to the studs and light fixtures were missing.

Even so, the grandeur of the house (and its tiled bathrooms) was unmistakable.  “It looks like a movie setting,” one visitor said.

At present, the house is being carefully restored by Karla Pearlstein, a historic preservation consultant.  Its future use is yet to be determined.  It is zoned for single family use.  Converting it to a bed-and-breakfast or some other commercial use, possibly as an event center, would require a conditional use permit from the city.  

Of course, nothing would prevent it from once again being a single-family residence.  For a family with means....

Pool and bathhouse

 

 

 

 

Harry Green House (Part 1)

 

Front Entrance

After years of vacancy, decline, intentional plundering and threat of demolition, one of East Portland’s largest and most luxurious mansions is undergoing what appears to be a deliberate, careful restoration.

 Originally known as the Harry and Ada Green House, this 17-room architectural confection comprises just over 10,000 square feet.  It perches on the northern edge of Laurelhurst Park on a sloping parcel seven times the size of a standard Portland residential lot.

The walls are stucco; the roof, tiled.  There are five brick chimneys and a towered dome over the central entrance, encountered after one passes through an ornate wrought iron entrance gate.  There is a semi-circular bath house and swimming pool.  The architectural style is called Mediterranean Revival or Spanish Eclectic.  Or, if you like, some combination of both. 

Completed in 1928, the impressive two-story structure with a basement ballroom is a reflection of the wealth and celebration of the Roaring 20s, which were soon to end.  As an example of the opulent era, three bedrooms were assigned to servants.

 The house was designed by Herman Brookman for Green, who was the second chief executive of Doernbecher Furniture Manufacturing Co., one of the largest furniture companies in America.  Its massive factory was located near N.E. 28th and Sandy Boulevard, less than a mile away from Green’s new home.

Brookman had been recruited to Portland from New York earlier in the decade to design a massive, English-inspired mansion for M. Lloyd Frank, which bore the name of Fir Acres.  The Lloyd mansion was an instant hit with Portland’s wealthy class; most of Brookman’s career became devoted to residential architecture.   Today the well-preserved Fir Acres is a part of the campus at Lewis & Clark College.

 Brookman’s Spanish/Mediterranean influence for Green’s mansion presumably came from the 1915 Panama-Pacific Exposition in San Francisco.  The exhibition buildings prompted new interests by architects in an era when revival of historical models motivated designs of many of the nation’s fanciest homes and buildings.

 “Every detail was carefully designed by Brookman -- from the overall form and massing of the building to the highly crafted interiors and detailed site design,” says National Register of Historic Places submission written by Carin Carlson, a Portland preservation architect, in 2013.  “Specialty craftsmen - such as metal artist Iohann Konrad Tuerck -- were commissioned for the elaborate wrought-iron work, wood carvings, stone and plaster castings, and light fixtures. Unique to this particular residence are the exotic details - including imported African faience tiles, Egyptian shell, leaf, and flower motifs, and Moorish patterns and forms.”

(National Register submission form)

 While decorative tile appears frequently both inside the Green house and on the exterior, the most memorable tiling is in the bathrooms.  The colors are dramatic, vivid and unforgettable.

 Fortunately, Brookman’s detail sketches and drawings have been preserved at the University of Oregon’s architecture library.  They will prove invaluable as the careful restoration work continues.  Fortunately, much of the bathroom tiles appear to be in good condition.

The history inside the Green house is not always pleasant.  We will speak more about that next week.  Suffice to say, after two ownerships the house in 2006 was acquired by a third owner who was not able to repair the house.  The kitchen was stripped to the studs and original light fixtures and hardware were sold.  By 2011, the ailing building became subject to foreclosure.

 The current owner is a limited liability company managed by Karla Pearlstein, a Portland historic preservation consultant with a history of careful, well-researched and detailed restoration projects.  She spent several years restoring the Italianate home of Gov. George Curry, Oregon’s last provisional governor before statehood.  Long before Pearlstein’s ownership, the house, which had been built in 1861, had been moved to the Multnomah neighborhood.

 In a subsequent major project, Pearlstein remodeled an early 20th-century firehouse in Northwest Portland into an interesting residence that attracted coverage by the Oregonian newspaper and won a restoration award from Restore Oregon in 2019.

 As with any thorough restoration, basics should be dealt with first.  City of Portland records reflect permits for mechanical, plumbing and electrical work at the Green house.  Repairs have been made to the roof. 

 The interesting work that lies ahead will be finding appropriate wall papers and lighting as Pearlstein tries to recapture the mansion’s original character.  Herman Brookman’s detailed notes and sketched likely will play an important role as that work unfolds.

Back door facing Laurelhurst Park

Laurelhurst Club

 

A Craftsman-era building in the Laurelhurst neighborhood with an interesting pedigree could be headed to a new future if the owner can find the right person to attract and manage events.

 The Laurelhurst Neighborhood Association recently took possession of the Laurelhurst Club near the northeast corner of Laurelhurst Park with the hope of returning it to its roots as a community center – and earning enough income to manage upkeep of the building erected in 1914.

 The building was originally funded by subscriptions from homeowners in the Laurelhurst neighborhood, then one of the fanciest developments on Portland’s east side.  Fundraising and development of the club occurred simultaneously with planning for Laurelhurst Elementary School and with completion of amenities in the landmark Laurelhurst Park.

 Newspaper articles from the era suggest that the original construction budget would be $14,000, but that number rose to $20,000 and then to $25,000 by the time it was finished in December, 1914.  Proponents talked about a community center as grand as the Multnomah Athletic Club, but in the end of the result was considerably smaller and offered fewer facilities than the MAC with its region-wide clientele. 

 However, the same architectural firm, Whitehouse and Fouilhoux, designed both clubs.  The architecture firm was one of the city’s most prominent of the era, designing Jefferson High School and the original Lincoln High School, which now serves as Lincoln Hall at Portland State University.

 The firm also was well-plugged in to Portland’s social circles.  Its other work included the University Club, Waverly County Club and the city’s Eastmoreland golf club.  The Laurelhurst Club comprises a ballroom and small stage under an open-trussed roof, with a few smaller meeting rooms in a wing at the rear of the lot.

  Photographs indicate that the ballroom was a later addition, but it blends nicely with the original structure.  From a preservationist’s perspective, the building unfortunately was wrapped at some point in vinyl siding but that is not an irreversible harm.

 The club opened with festivities on New Year’s Eve, 1914.  The Oregonian reported, “The big fireplace at the end of the hall gives a hospitable appearance.  The furnishings are in perfect taste.  The decorations for the opening night were greens and holly.”

 The club originally included tennis courts, but those later gave way to residences.  A landscaped side yard on the west makes an attractive location for parties and outdoor events. By the 1930s, neighborhood interest waned in the community center, and it was taken over by a group promoting dances and dance lessons.  The pandemic shut down dance operations, and the Laurelhurst Neighborhood Association agreed to take possession.

 As the neighborhood association looks for a manager, one can think of many opportunities for the building.  The formal dances are expected to return, and the ballroom could be a good venue for tango and contra dancing.  Small music and drama groups might be recruited as well.  Smaller rooms might work for meetings, daycare or a preschool, and the building and side yard are attractive for weddings and parties in good weather.

 One hopes that this historic building sits on the cusp of new life, new activities and community success.

 

Is This the Look of a New Burnside Bridge?

Two conceptual views of an "unbalanced" Burnside Bridge show the cable supported option, above, and the tied arch. (HDR)

 Unbalanced. Asymmetrical.  Funky?

An advisory discussion by members of the Portland Design Commission and the Historical Landmarks Commission suggests that a new Burnside Bridge should be divided into three parts, and look unlike any other bridge spanning the Willamette River.

The 650 feet at the east end likely will be supported by two towers with cable supports or a tied arch.    The center of the bridge would have a bascule mechanisms based within two piers extending deep into the river bed.  The western portion of the bridge would consist of a truss structure positioned under the surface deck, thus keeping views unobstructed for west-bound travelers heading into the Skidmore-Old Town Historic District.

Members of the two commissions reached a tentative consensus on a three-part bridge based on unstable soils on the east side and the disparate urban environments on the river’s two sides.

“You are entering two different worlds,” said Don Vallaster, an architect on the design commission.  While the west side has a largely 19th Century feel with its old historic buildings, the east side has become modern, angular, tall and glassy. 

 “This is an asymmetrical context,” said Andrew Smith, an architect on the landmarks commission.  “It almost seems like an asymmetrical design is needed.”

 Brian McCarter, a landscape architect on the design commission, said bridges typically are designed to be balanced, rising to a structural peak at the center.  But here, the geography and the presence of railroad tracks and the freeway on the east side mitigate against a single balanced structure.  “It’s a real struggle to make a single beautiful composition out of the whole thing.”

 A similar “unbalanced” design could be accomplished with a tied arch at the east end, looking like a smaller version of the Fremont Bridge.  Members of the two commissions said they preferred the cable supported concept, where the two towers would be landmarks signaling entry to the east side.

The Burnside Bridge was identified by regional officials in 1996 as the primary emergency route connecting 19 miles of city streets in case of a major earthquake.  Several other bridges are expected to suffer serious damage or route obstructions in a magnitude-9 quake.  The existing Burnside Bridge is expected to collapse at that magnitude.

 “I love this bridge,” Drahota said of the current Burnside. “We tried our hardest to keep it.”  But he said studies showed too many problems for a retrofit to work.

Yet for bridge designers, the bridge needs to be more than a passage for vehicles, bicycles and pedestrians.  They want it to represent the heart of Portland and the vital dividing line among four city quadrants.  And they would be pleased if it can be attractive enough to draw favorable attention as a landmark and even be a draw for tourists. 

 All designs showed at the March 4 hearing were conceptual in nature rather than detailed.  Steve Drahota, technical leader for the HDR consulting team, said he would bring three-dimensional renderings to a future meeting.

 Julie Livingston, the design commission chair, said the three dimensional studies would give the panels a better view of bridge views from all angles.  Drahota said public comments on the conceptual drawings so far are heavily split between the cable supported approach and the tied arch.  A final bridge design is supposed to be made by City of Portland and Multnomah County officials in the coming summer.

  A funding package has yet to be identified for the project.  In theory, the new bridge is to be finished by the end of this decade.

 

Another New Project in the East Portland Historic District

 

Arcoa additions seen from SE 7th and Yamhill (Ink:Built Architecture)

For 25 years or so, little seemed to change in Portland’s least known National Historic District that includes about 20 blocks along a spine of Southeast Grand Avenue.

Now pandemic nowithstanding, the East Portland Grand Avenue Historic District is buzzing with renovations and plans for major new buildings.  New buildings are not designed to not look ersatz “old” but are intended to fit the context of the district by taking design cues from nearby historic buildings.

 The latest is an eight-story addition to the Arcoa Building (originally built in 1907 and operated as the U.S. Laundry) at 1006 S.E. Grand Ave.  Plans approved by the Portland Historic Landmarks Commission show what will appear to be three buildings but in fact are all tied into one – as well as being tied into the Arcoa Building.

 One must look at the image above to see what’s happening.  What looks like two buildings with separate entrances and retail spaces will face on S.E. 7th Ave.  One will look like eight stories and the other will look like seven stories with a penthouse.  This is actually one building with six floors of apartments and the eighth floor being offices.  An entry will be off Yamhill Street for 31 ground-floor parking spaces tucked inside.

Arcoa Building, left, with sidecar (Ink:Built Architecture)

Through the block on Grand, a two-story “sidecar” building will abut the Arcoa and provide access to the upper floors of the Arcoa.  At the same time, it is tied to the eight-story structure immediately behind the sidecar.

 If this sounds complicated, so too was the design.  Ink Built Architects held two advisory meetings with the landmarks commission, followed by two formal hearings to wrestle through the many options for exterior design, materials, colors and windows. 

 Like the new Grand Belmont apartments on the adjacent block (see below) the Arcoa additions will increase housing units in a district that formerly was dominated by commercial and industrial uses.  More housing will be added, too, by a new building that will adjoin the remodeled historic Troy Laundry building in a project described on this blog last August.  Another major eight-story office addition to the historic district, the Flatworks Building, was approved last September but construction has yet to start.

 

Grand Belmont Apartments, left, Arcoa Building right

Now, after a delay due to the pandemic, renovation is continuing rapidly at the former Gayosa/Chamberlain/Schleifer building that is being substantially remodeled into a boutique hotel.

 Substantial work remains to be completed inside the French Second Empire building erected in 1907, but the exterior is largely finished.  A tall blade sign, Hotel Grand Stark, was installed recently.   A portion of the former Schleifer furniture sign that was finally removed sits on the sidewalk in the image below.  The Schleifer store used the former hotel from 1936 until 2016.

Hotel Grand Stark

All three of the structures shown above have ground-floor spaces intended for commercial uses or restaurants.  It will take survival of the pandemic to determine whether the buildings are successful in attracting tenants that could add vibrancy to the historic district.

Good News at the Henry Building

 

A six story historic building that glistens like no other in downtown Portland will keep shining for another century and provide 173 units of much-needed low-income housing thanks to a $37 million renovation.

Completion of the work is a “win” in many ways: renewed life for a notable downtown building,  preservation of several elements of historic internal fabric, and safe, secure housing for a population in dire need. 

 The Henry Building at 309 S.W. Fourth Ave. was built in 1909 by a successful real estate investor, Charles K. Henry, who also helped develop the massive Multnomah Hotel and the ground-breaking Laurelhurst neighborhood laid out by the famous Olmsted Brothers landscape architects.  The building originally had a bank and retail shops on the ground floor, a barbershop in the basement and five stories of offices above.

 Today the shiny white building is owned by Central City Concern, a social service agency that provides housing and access to medical and other assistance for low-income tenants.  Central City has an admirable record for restoring vintage buildings in Portland and outfitting them for new uses accommodating social services.

 Central City took over the building in 1990 after a renovation created 153-low income housing units in what had been a vacant and seriously deteriorated office building.  The more extensive second renovation managed to add 20 more units, while retaining significant historic elements, and adding seismic bracing towers and two new elevators.  Funding came from a stew of sources including the Portland Housing Bureau, Oregon Housing and Community Services, U.S. Bank  and federal historic preservation tax credits.

National Register Form

The Henry Building stands out for its two shiny white facades facing on S.W. Fourth and Oak Street.   Portland has several nice cream-colored terra cotta buildings from the early decades of the 20th Century, but the Henry is brighter yet.  At the developer’s insistence, the design included “Tiffany enameled” brick with blue geometric designs on spandrels on three floors.

 The enameled bricks were manufactured in a process requiring two firings.  Pressed bricks were first fired, allowed to cool, then layered with enamel and then fired again at high temperatures.  Charles Henry had seen the bright white bricks in 1908 on a building in Denver, where the bricks were manufactured.

 When the building was added to the National Register of Historic Places in 1982, the nomination suggested that the Henry Building was the only one between Portland and Denver to use the enameled bricks.

The Henry Building was designed by Francis J. Berndt, who practiced in Portland only from 1907 until his death in 1910.  The building is considered to represent the Chicago School of architecture, a movement that minimized historic architectural details and let the facades reflect their inner-steel framework.  In 1909, steel framing was still in its first decade in Portand.  Bays of three double-hung windows also were common to the Chicago School.  The design also has an internal atrium above the ground floor intended to allow more natural light.

 SERA Architects of Portland, a firm with a track record of working on historic preservation projects, led the intricate project.  Historic elements saved or recreated included hexagonal tiles on hallway floors, the internal cast-iron stairway and the original bank’s large, heavy vault. 

 As a result of the work, the Henry should stand literally for many years as a shining example of good preservation and valuable public service.

Revisiting the Rayworth House

 

It is almost eight years since Roy and Kim Fox, hosting a wine party with kindred preservation spirits, first heard about a vacant 1890 house in the Boise neighborhood that a developer wanted to tear down.

It was one of many in a rash of teardowns of smaller, older houses that is continuing to this day.  “You guys should save the Rayworth house,” someone said.

 Kim Fox went first.  “It’s kind of cute,” she told her husband.  It was a small Victorian cottage, probably like hundreds that once graced Portland.  Given time and changes in housing sizes, few like it  remain today.  Once the home of Edwin Rayworth, a professional wallpaper hanger, the house was in poor condition inside and out.

 For a while, a Boise resident planned to move the house and save it, but that plan fell through.  The clock was ticking, allowed only by the patience of the prospective developer.  Four months after they had looked it, Roy and Kim Fox were next in line.

Moving a house in Portland is difficult because there are few available vacant lots.  The longer the trip, the greater the cost.  The Foxes found a property owner who had one house on a double lot who was willing to sell the empty yard.  

 As a result, they succeeded in moving the house two miles north to the Piedmont neighborhood but not until they prevailed in the Great Tree Fight.  The city’s urban forestry manager wanted to deny the move on grounds that the move would damage some tree canopy along the way.  In time, it took insistence from Mayor Charlie Hales to allow the move.

 “Ninety-five percent of the city staff really busted their butts for us,” Roy says.  He compliments the Portland Bureau of Transportation which had to approve the route and the Bureau of Development Services, which allowed permits for an oversized lot that was being halved. 

In its original location

Given the construction boom at the time, the house sat on a lattice of timbers for most of a year until a foundation could be poured for a daylight basement.  The basement became an accessory dwelling below the old house.  The first tenant moved in in 2015, and since then the rest of the repair work has been funded by rent from the lower unit. 

 Today, work continues on the upper portion of the house.  Much of the work and painting has been done by volunteers recruited from websites that trade temporary housing for temporary help.  So far, Roy says more than 100 people have helped out, one way or another.  “Some of them know all about a table saw, and some know almost nothing,” he says.  “But everyone has contributed something.  We just love doing this. That is really the new story of the Rayworth house.” The result is a network of lasting friendships for the Foxes, with people from as far away as Australia and Ireland.

Roy says woodwork details will duplicate what’s missing in the house, and that vintage lighting has been acquired.  But though the Foxes are experienced ion exacting preservation work, they are not planning to replicate an historical 1890s kitchen or bathroom.  Of course, all plumbing and wiring has been replaced.

 One of the next projects is to work through layers of wallpaper to see to what extent any of them were historic and, if so, could be replicated.  Roy hypothesizes that the paper layers may well have come leftovers from Edwin Rayworth’s professional work, but there is no way of knowing for sure.

 Roy says the plan is to make the entry to the house look as original as possible with the woodwork, lighting and wallpaper.

Looking ahead, Roy says, “I can’t imagine selling the house.  We’ve put so much into it.”  When the right time comes, he said the next owner likely will be one of his two sons.

Today the Rayworth house sits proudly in a neighborhood composed mostly of 1920s bungalows.  Its distinctive architectural presence tells a story in itself.  Not as much, however, than if the building could actually talk.

 

What followed Rayworth in Boise 

Gresham Historical Museum

No one would ever confuse Gresham, Portland’s largest eastern suburb, as being a bastion of interesting historic architecture.  Still, the smallish English Tudor gem at 410 N. Main Ave. is worthy of celebrating for its past, its present and its future.

The 1913 brick building designed by one of Portland’s leading architects, Folger Johnson, started life as one of seven libraries in Multnomah County built with grants from the extremely wealthy steel magnate, Andrew Carnegie.   After the Gresham Public Library moved to larger and much less distinctive quarters, the old library was taken over in 1989 by the Gresham Historical Society, making it the Gresham Historical Museum.

 At just over 2300 square feet, the building is smaller than many houses.  But it is filled with interesting details from the patterned brickwork, elegant entry and interesting leaded windows designed to reflect the commercial insignias of major book publishers of the era.  Many of the bookshelves remain from the early library era.

 Fortunately for old building lovers, the Gresham society has done a good job maintaining the museum without seriously affecting its historical qualities.  The society had hoped to ramp up its public profile with the hire early last year of museum director Mark Moore, who is well-known in region’s realm of ephemera, antique collecting, streetcar history and pioneer steam equipment. 

 But the pandemic hit just as Moore took charge last March.  “COVID really put a damper on our events and activities,” he said.  “When this COVID thing is over, we plan for more events.” 

 Though the museum is not open at the moment, a visitor can get a good look at the Carnegie-inspired details from the exterior.  Carnegie delegated building designs to local architects, but his foundation offered general floorplans and included a few specific requirements.

 One of the requirements was for stairs leading to the front door – to give the impression of library visitors being “elevated” as they entered.  Another requirement was prominent electric lighting near the entrance, to give the feeling of enlightenment.  Carnegie provided money to build approximately 2500 libraries – including 31 in Oregon and seven in Multnomah County – but local communities had to provide the land, the staffing, the books and money for maintenance.

Another requirement was that the libraries had to be free to the public.  It was a major advance in the library world because many libraries were operated on subscriptions paid by users. 

 Carnegie, himself an immigrant from Scotland at age 13, placed his libraries in small towns and neighborhoods, rather than building large libraries in major cities.  He wanted his libraries to be used by immigrants learning English and for general education.

 Carnegie’s personal story is one of the Gilded Era’s great adventures in capitalism.  He started working in a bobbin factory in 1848 at age 13, then learned telegraphy and learned about railroads when the nation’s rail network was improving its bridges from wooden structures to steel.  He then ventured into steel manufacturing and leaned heavily on technological improvements and rigid management as his empire grew.

 He sold his steel business in 1901 and embarked on an aggressive philanthropic strategy to give away many of his riches.  He wrote an explanation called the “Gospel of Wealth” in 1889 in which he said exceptionally wealthy people had an obligation to use their funds to improve society.

 Folger Johnson, the architect for the Gresham library, also designed Carnegie libraries in St. Johns, Arleta and South Portland.  Other architects designed East Portland, North Portland and Albina.  Albina, St. Johns and North Portland remain as parts of the Multnomah County system, while Arleta and East Portland have been sold off for private offices.  The South Portland library is now a Portland Parks Bureau office. 

 Johnson, a native of Columbus, Georgia, had been trained at the Ecole de Beaux Arts in Paris before coming to Portland in 1911.  He was one of Portland’s most skilled architects, whose career was stymied by the Great Depression.  His other notable buildings include the Portland Town Club, an exclusive women’s club, and the Albertina Kerr Nursery.  He also was a consultant on Benson Polytechnic High School.

 Once the current pandemic resolves, Moore hopes to build the cadre of museum volunteers and people willing to offer financial support.  The museum survives at present on donations and a portion of a tax levy shared by several historical societies in Multnomah County. 

 “I’d like to see us get on a steady financial footing so in 20 years down the road this place will still be here,” Moore said.  It is, after all, a beautiful piece of history.

  

  

Yes, the Burnside Bridge is (Most Likely) Toast

 

Multnomah County Images of a Potential New Bridge 

Members of two civic commissions that will review the looks of a new Burnside Bridge wondered if the existing historic bridge could be braced adequately against the rumblings of a major earthquake.  They got their answer on Jan. 25.

 In a word, nope.   Members of the Portland Landmarks Commission and the Portland Design Commission easily reached an informal consensus after a joint briefing where one of the chief bridge planners laid out numerous difficulties in trying to revamp the existing bridge built in 1926.

 “It’s a question that has come up quite a bit,” said Steve Drahota,  a consultant with the HDR engineering and planning firm that is a member of the Multnomah County bridge planning team.

 “I’m a bridge designer,” he said.  “I love the Burnside Bridge.”  Nevertheless, it was built in an era when engineers knew nothing about seismic bracing or the risk of a major quake in Portland.  The Burnside route with its through-routes to East Portland and West Portland has been chosen by regional planners to be the key bridge link needing to survive a severe Cascadian subduction zone earthquake.

From its telephone-pole pilings under the river to its deck, railings, bascule mechanisms, cute operator’s houses and supporting columns on both sides of the river, “There is no piece of the bridge we wouldn’t have to touch in some way,” Drahota said.

Perhaps the biggest challenge would be supporting columns at the east end of the bridge, where mushy, unstable soils reach as much as 200 feet below the surface.  This are the soils that are subject to liquefaction in a major quake, which Drahota said amounts to the wet mass turning to Jell-O or soup.  The better solution, he said, is a “long span” option in which most of the unstable soil would be avoided.

John Czarnecki, an architect and long-time preservation advocate, told the two commissions that he thought the analysis was one-sided against reinforcing the old bridge.  “We seem to be looking at reasons to destroy the bridge,” he said.

 Members of the two commissions, however, clearly were impressed by Drahota’s presentation.  A design commissioner, Zari Santner, said the presentation “addressed everything we raised that needed to be clarified.”  A landmarks commissioner, Andrew Smith, said trying to retrofit the old bridge would lead to a “Burnside Frankenstein and it still wouldn’t perform as it should.”

 Matthew Roman said he was no longer concerned about trying to save the bridge.  “I’m convinced from the presentation today that it’s not feasible.”

 Maya Foty, a landmarks commissioner, said the city needs to turn its attention to building an attractive bridge, even if it costs more money.  “Wouldn’t it be exciting to have a bridge people want to come to see?”  She mentioned the Sundial Bridge in Redding, California, as an example.

The proposed long-span new bridge would be about 20 feet wider than the current bridge, once it departs from the street grid.  The extra width would allow for wider vehicular lanes by about six inches each, and wider bicycle and pedestrian routes.

At Czarnecki's request, the Architectural Heritage Center has created a small committee to see if bridge rehabilitation options have been adequately considered.  If the bridge is to be demolished, the committee will offer suggestions on saving or commemorating the bridge's historical elements.

Steve Dotterrer, AHC  advocacy committee chair, said defeat of last November's regional transportation ballot measure could slow planning and construction timelines. 

There are many procedural hoops to clear as bridge planning continues.  At present, the start of a final design is expected in 2022, and construction is expected to last from 2024 to 2028.

Brewing a Great Save

 

For several months, it seemed that a 111-year old Craftsman-era church in Northeast Portland was headed for demolition and replacement by a five-story housing project.

But then two men wanting to build a small brewery learned about the potential sale of Metropolitan Community Church at 2400 N.E. Broadway and jumped in to change the outcome.  “Dustin (Harder) and I are really passionate about preserving historic places and we are really excited to bring this project to life,” said Brody Day, Harder’s partner.

The church has stood as a sentinel perched above the bush intersection of Northeast 24th and Broadway since 1909.  It was built with the best native materials of the time – old-growth fir timber and cedar shakes.  Large bracketed gables dominate the prime west and northern facades

Construction fences protect two sides of the building these days as work gets started on Steeplejack Brewery.  It will bring dramatic new life to the steepled church that housed four different congregations between its opening in 1909 and the departure of Metropolitan Community Church in 2019.

Finding new uses for vintage buildings that have outlived their original purposes pose great challenges for preservationists.  Yet churches offer interesting possibilities as houses, music venues -- and even as a  brewery. 

When ready for its first customers, presumably sometime next summer, the Steeplejack building will look virtually identical on the exterior, except for a new paint job and Plexiglas covers to protect the stained-glass windows. 

Although never designated as a city or federal landmark, the church is included on Portland’s historical inventory list.  Harden and Day had to work through the city’s design review process to change the building’s function from an assembly space (church) to a brewery.  “They didn’t want us to change the outside of the building,” Day said.  “That wasn’t a problem.  We didn’t intend to, anyway.”

Accommodating vintage buildings to meet modern accessibility requirements often is a challenge.  Day said they were fortunate that the Metropolitan Community Church, which owned the building from 1977 to 2019, added a lift on the Broadway side and remodeled bathroom access in the 1990s.

The interior of the church remained largely unchanged from its original days.  Large wooden trusses leave the ceiling open.  Day said wood salvaged from pews will be used to make tables and seating.  Plans call for the interior of the steeple to be opened to view so people can see the craftsmanship involved in its construction with old-growth timber.

 The Steeplejack Brewery moniker comes from the traditional name of the worker -- steeplejack -- who built or repaired steeples or smokestacks at dangerous heights.     

Harder and Day, who first became interested in beer as students studying overseas in the 1980s, originally thought of trying to find inexpensive warehouse space for a brewery.  Then they learned that the 1909 church was for sale.  The church was negotiating with a housing developer when the prospective brewers arrived.  Day said the fact that they would keep and preserve the building was important to the Metropolitan Community Church as sellers.

 While original construction was underway in October, 1909, President William H. Taft visited Portland and showed up to lay the cornerstone for what was to become the new First Universal Life Church of Good Tidings. 

Taft himself was a Unitarian, but during his presidency he engaged in cornerstone ceremonies for Catholic, Protestant and Jewish institutions.  An estimated 20,000 people swarmed into the Irvington neighborhood to see him, according to the Oregon Journal newspaper, with people peering from trees, rooftops and crammed streets. Taft told the crowd that he believed in separation of church and state, but he said religion and moral uplift were vital to improving society. 

In more than a century, the church also was home to Grace English Lutheran Church, First Church of Divine Science and finally, Metropolitan Community Church.

The Steeplejack project comes at a difficult time for eating and drinking establishments.  COVID-19 has crippled many restaurants, and what may have been a surfeit of craft brewers has led to the closure of some breweries. 

Day said Steeplejack will sell its own beers, in addition to providing taps from other Oregon and Washington brewers.  “The dining and beer culture in Portland has been a really special thing,” he said.  "It's still a vibrant culture."  Even with recent losses, Day and Harder have faith in the region's beer-making and drinking capacity. 

One hopes that an interesting building, tastefully restored and adapted to its new use, will be a helpful attraction.   

 

Will WeWork survive at the Custom House?

Several years ago, people who admire Portland’s grand old buildings were pleased that the U.S. Custom House, designed along the lines of an Italian Renaissance palace, finished in 1901, had found new life as a private office building.

Now what was once the young city’s most elegant public building finds itself a bit player in a disappointing chapter of modern venture capitalism.  While no one is making predictions just yet, it is possible that the stately historic building could be headed for yet another change in service.

Stepping back, it is amazing to think that a frontier city only 50 years old could see a building such as this come to grace its neighborhood at 220 NW 8th Ave., facing on the North Park Blocks.  James Knox Taylor, supervising architect for the U.S. Department of Treasury, is always listed as the primary architect.  But given the fact that Taylor’s name is mentioned in connection with several dozen federal buildings, the local architect, Edgar Lazarus, no doubt played a key role.

 Lazarus practiced in Portland in fits and starts during 45 years.  His best known building, Vista House at Crown Point overlooking the Columbia River, is a deservedly well-loved public monument with spectacular views high above one of the nation’s great rivers.

 The Custom House is an incredibly elaborate building, with all sorts of columns and decorations.  The front entry, with a courtyard faced with a granite loggia with tall arched openings and a scrolled parapet, tells that this is no ordinary structure.  Another of the building’s many notable features are the so-called “Gibbs surrounds,” a layering of architectural ornament along the sides of the major rectangular windows, in addition to the sills and lintels. 

  The technique is named for James Gibbs, an English 18th Century architect who pioneered the concept for highlighting doors and windows.  The technique has not been used frequently in Portland, and the Custom House is clearly the city’s best example.

South facade shows Gibbs surrounds on second and third floor windows

 The Customs Bureau left the building in 1968 to move into a former Post Office building nearby.  The U.S. Army Corps of Engineers then moved in, and remained until 2004.  Like many government buildings, various attempts at modernization ruined many interior details, but the grand vestibule and four-story iron stairway remained untouched, as well as many lesser design elements.

 The Custom House was sold into private ownership in 2012 and again in 2017.  Interior renovations by Portland’s GBD Architecture removed some of the offending renovations and helped recapture much of the building’s original interior feel.

In 2015, WeWork, a New York-based office-sharing company with grandiose ambitions, leased the Custom House and began offing spaces as small as a single desk to freelance workers and small businesses.  Since its inception in 2010, WeWork accumulated leases on more than 800 properties around the world and adapted them to the office-sharing format, including availability of meeting rooms and social spaces for internal gatherings.

 Trouble is, WeWork has never turned a profit -- or even come close.  It has been sustained with literally hundreds of millions of dollars from venture capital firms, all hoping to cash out with big profits when stock ultimately was sold to the public.  In retrospect, business analysts suggest that WeWork’s board didn’t supervise the eccentric behavior, big spending and grandiose non-business ambitions of WeWork’s founder, Adam Neumann.

 In 2019, investment bankers reviewed WeWork’s preliminary documents for the initial public offering.  In light of their negative reactions, WeWork withdrew the proposed offering.  The venture capitalists then convinced Adam Neumann to leave management, in return for a payout amounting to more than $1 billion.

 Details are available in a new book, “Billion Dollar Loser,’ by Reeves Wiedeman.  A Nov. 30 article in the New Yorker magazine, "The Enablers," by Charles Duhigg, criticizes the conduct of venture capitalists involved with WeWork. 

 The pandemic is another challenge for WeWork arising not long after the IPO implosion.  Freelancers and small entrepreneurs started to find that working from home was a better option; social distancing had an impact on how closely desks could be placed.

 New managers at WeWork are not giving up, however.  Their focus has switched to recruiting established corporations that might need flexible work space or satellite offices in other cities.

 How well the Portland Custom House location stacks up in the WeWork universe is not known.  The company’s website says space is available.  The front gate is patrolled by a security guard, limiting one’s ability walk in and find a list of occupants.  The building is owned by a real estate investment firm in Santa Monica, Calif.

 Whether it is WeWork or some subsequent occupant or owner, one hopes that the building’s architectural beauty and its role in Portland history can remain undiminished and well-maintained.