Dead-Ass Proposal of the Week-- October 27th

Curtis Temple of Learning

1800 North Broad Street

That's a big temple.

                            Holy shit, this motherfucker would have been really cool to have around. North Philly would be a totally different place with this 350-foot beast looming over it. Really, this building would go unrivaled in North Philly to this day. It would be a well-known landmark.
                            In 1927, Temple University was expanding its enrollment very rapidly. The school's new president, Charles Beury, was intent on building up Temple into a super-massive mega-school. Under Beury's direction, the campus expanded and built a number of new buildings. Beury's ultimate goal was to build a super-massive collegiate tower that could compete with the University of Pittsburgh's then-new 535-foot Cathedral of Learning. To make sure everyone knew that it would be a complete knock-off, he named his tower the Temple of Learning.
                          The Temple of Learning would be a five-building complex that would come to fruition into a 34-storey beacon of education that would kick the shit out of any college building, anywhere (except for the Cathedral of Learning). Beury wanted to name it after Shogun of Printing Cyrus H. K. Curtis, who had been donating endless amounts of his scrilla to the school ever since Beury took office. This beast wasn't just tall, it was wide. 400 feet wide North-to-South and 150 feet East-to-West. 
                          The building would be built in five phases...Phase One was a one-storey addition to the pre-existing Conwell Hall. Phase Two was started in 1928 and was open for learning on February 15, 1929. I assume Phases 3, 4, and 5 would be the tower and the other two pieces, but the Great Depression reared its ugly head after that and the rest never happened.
                          Too bad this bitch-bastard never got built. It's over 220 feet taller than any current building on the University's Main Campus. Wachman Hall, the current tallest at Temple, is only 131 feet. Luckily, it won't be the tallest much longer. Temple's newest residence hall is currently under construction, set to be the tallest building in North Philadelphia. Even so, its still slated to be slightly shorter than the Temple of Learning would have been. Bummer.

New Temple highrise "Gateway South". What a goofy name. Call it Assinthrope Hall or something cool like that.

Lost Bridge of the Week-- October 26th

Chestnut Street Bridge I

Crossing Dock Creek at Chestnut Street near Hudson's Alley

VERY lost bridge of the week. This engraving is somewhat inaccurate, but the house in the picture was the main focus of the original drawing, which was done by William Strickland 119 years after the bridge was built.

                           Now it's time to talk about Old Philadelphia, like village-sized primordial Philadelphia from the early early days. Dock Creek, that once ran through what is now Old City, was spanned by many little crappy bridges all around Penn's Green Country Towne of old. This was one of them. This bridge is so ancient that when it was installed, Chestnut beyond third street was the fucking edge of town.
                            It started in an unknown year in the late 1600's. Chestnut Street had a dip in it that would get filled with the water from Dock Creek for some parts of the year and be an impassable muddy hole the rest of the year. A rudimentary wooden bridge was built that did not last very long. In 1699, the city (village) of Philadelphia commissioned a stone arch bridge that would span the trench.
                            Money ran out before the protective sides of the stone bridge could be built, so the span was just a stone arch with a flat top that proved to be extremely dangerous. A man named John Reynalls lost his daughter to drowning after falling off the span. The Governor of Barbados, who rented the house in that engraving, wouldn't even use the bridge.
                          The first written account of the ancient Chestnut Street Bridge was from February 7th, 1719 and is all about how it was precarious as fuck to cross and how it needed to be repaired. Folks who lived nearby would build makeshift wooden railings for the bridge, but these would often end up falling down. Later in 1719, another account talks about how it had partially collapsed.
                         The bridge went through repair after repair until 1750. In that year, the Chestnut Street Bridge had deteriorated to the point of impassibility. The arch had completely collapsed at this point and the creek would overrun the bridge/pile of rocks in certain parts of the year. Only seven years later, the creek was filled and the bridge was forgotten.
                         Very forgotten. By the early 1800's, the existence of this bridge was completely unknown, save the ravings of the few people that managed to live long enough to remember it. A 75-year-old man named Arthur Howell told tales in 1822 about how his father told him that the family home was built over the site of the old Dock Creek that was next to the old Chestnut Street Bridge. It wasn't until one year later, when the first water pipes were being laid under Chestnut Street, that the oak pilings of the old bridge were discovered to the surprise of the entire city. It was like finding Bigfoot!
                         This bridge seems so simple to us now.. a pile of rocks in the form of an arch spanning only a small gap... but in 1699 protoamerica, this was THE SHIT. No matter how many crossings that would later be called the Chestnut Street Bridge, this was the first.

You can see the Chestnut Street Bridge in the upper middle of this conjectural engraving.

Butt-Fugly Public Art of the Week-- October 25th

Spirit of Enterprise  by Jacques Lipchitz

Central Terrace of the Ellen Phillips Samuel Memorial Sculpture Garden,

Shitpiece 1, image from philart.net

and Government by the People by Jacques Lipschitz


Thomas Paine Plaza (aka Reyburn Plaza aka Municipal Services Plaza)

and Asspiece 2. Image from philart.net

                     I'm gonna catch plenty of flack for this one. People love these two sculptures, but I think they look like turds. No, literally. This Jacques Lipchitz guy sure likes to make sculptures that sound like his name, that is, Lift Shits. His Prometheus Strangling a Vulture in front of the Art Musuem ain't no picnic either, but it works well where it is. These other two, however, are completely useless other than for Scat Porn.
                  Spirit of Enterprise was commissioned by the Fairmount Park Art Association in 1950. They wanted a large sculpture from Lift Shits to represent America's "Constructive Enterprise". Ten long years later, this gigantic pile of wasted bronze got installed in the Ellen Phillips Samuel Memorial Sculpture Garden. Take a good long look at the picture at the top of the article. Is the eagle standing on the faceless figure's giant dick? Supposedly, the massive cock, large enough for an eagle to perch on, is supposed to be some kind of faceless snake. Suck MY faceless snake, Lift Shits.
                At least Spirit of Enterprise is tucked over on Kelly Drive, so most people only see it for a split second as they speed by. Only joggers and cyclists have to suffer viewing it when passing... serves them right for trying to live forever. Unlike Spirit, Lift Shits' Government by the People is one of the most highly visible pieces of public art in the entire city. An embarrassment, really.
                In 1967, right about the time that the Municipal Services Building was nearing completion, Lift Shits was asked by the city to create a "monumental" sculpture for the shitty-looking plaza. They told him he could choose what to make. Lift Shitz came back to them with this:

One of the plaster sketches of Government by the People

                         The commissioners loved it so much that they named it.. Lift Shits didn't care what it would be called. Somehow, this pile of turds is supposed to represent Democracy. I think it represents Shitocracy. I'm not alone in hating this thing. In 1972, then-mayor Frank Rizzo cut off funding for this mess, thinking it looked like spilled plaster.
                       The Fairmount Park Art Association got involved along with Lift Shits' butt-buddy, PMA guru  R. Sturgis Ingersoll,. They managed to get the 30-foot bronze feces monument installed in 1976. Lift Shits had been dead for three years at that point, never getting to see his shitsterpiece go up. The giant turd that is being lifted by the mishmash of human figures is supposed to represent the flag of Philadelphia. Get the fuck out of here. Way to slap the city with your cock, Lift Shits.

Mystery Building of the Week-- October 24th

Hawthorne Hall

3849 Lancaster Avenue, 3849 Hamilton Street

Awww Shiiit--- Image by Google

                        Now here's a mystery. This is that crazy curved building that everyone always says needs to be rehabbed in order for its neighborhood to come roaring back. Its one crazy motherfucking structure. Its actually a mishmash of different properties put together into one rounded juggernaut. Its got statuary friezes all over the place, one of them being a huge sign that says "Hawthorne Hall!!", only adding to its mystery.

                      This building is dangerous. Everyone who walks, runs, bikes, or drives by this thing slows down and says "Holyfuckcurvybuildingwithfriezesandshit!!!", and crashes into a pedestrian. The history of the building is somewhat known, but the architect, who put it there, and WHY is a forever mystery that know one wants to talk about.

                       Seriously... if you research this building you'll get a thorough description, its full timeline, and an assload of pictures of it, but no one seems to know who the fuck the architect was. Was it some kind of architecture god? Was the angel in the frieze in the middle responsible? Did she shit the building out her back and get stuck within it?

"I am Angel! I defecate late Queen Anne-style buildings! Pic by Max Buten

                        No one can even seem to get the year it was built straight. One sources says 1900, another 1895, another 1875. The maps from 1895 don't have the building, but who knows how up-to-date they were. Therefore, not only is the architect unknown, the year built is still a damn mystery!! Even the Philadelphia Architects and Buildings Project doesn't have any details. What the fuck!?!?!

                        The one thing on the PAB file that gives some hope is that it was locally historically registered on July 5th, 1984... therefore there has to be a file on it at the Historical Commission. Here's a picture of it from 1908:

Looks like the upper floors are boarded up in this pic. Image by some dead guy.

                      Hawthorne Hall has had many uses. The upper floors have been used as a meeting space for decades... everything from neighborhood association meetings to railroad conventions. The retail spaces at the bottom started with a succession of drug stores but have also held others kinds of businesses. Nothing to crazy about the history... the real craziness comes from the look of the building and WHO THE FUCK DESIGNED THIS SHIT?!?!?
                       You wanna know something even weirder about this building? There's another one!!!!

What the fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck!!?!?!?!?!? Image from Google.

                              Hawthorne Hall has an evil twin just northwest of it... this one is/was in use as Truelight Missionary Baptist Church. This neighborhood seems to have a lot of old buildings and rowhomes being used as churches. In fact, the newest owner of Hawthorne Hall is one of those churches! Anyway, this version of the design doesn't have its name emblazoned across the top, but has a statuary frieze in its place. It also seems to have had its bay windows removed.
                              Recently, this stretch of Lancaster Avenue where Hawthorne Hall is located has received some attention due to pieces of public art being installed all over the place. Hawthorne Hall currently has wheatpastes in the windows and come kind of weird rainbow colored shit hanging from the top. This is all part of Drexel University's LOOK! project.

Colored bottlecaps hanging from Hawthorne Hall. Oh I get it, its recyclable. Whoop-de-shit. Pic from nakedphilly.com.

                                Who the fuck designed this thing? Was it Hale? Furness? MacArthur? The Twelfth Imam? Does ANYONE out there know? If you do, let us know in the comment section below or e-mail me at rhaandarite@gmail.com.

AND THE ANSWAH IS...

                     This is John McLaughlin and you ahhh now reading this in my voice! Haw-thooohne Hall was built by the Wright and Prentzle Company, some real estate speculatahs who built many high-end commah-cial and residential projects in Philadelphia and New Juh-sey. The building was probably modeled after the work of Wilson Eyah by some knock-off ahh-chitect on theyah staff. BYE BYE!!!

                                                                                                    *Special thanks to Rebecca Chan for the info!!

Empty Lot of the Week-- October 20th

Rittenhouse Sorrow Lot

1907-1915 Walnut Street

Pathetic!!

                                 This is one of the most famous Empty Lots in the city. This is the damning lot of doom that has plagued the Rittenhouse Square neighborhood for 16 years. This piece of shit has seen it's share of Dead-Ass Proposals but is now just sitting there with no plans.
                                This stretch of Walnut was once fine row of mansions reserved for Philly's most elite motherfuckers. The fine old house just to the left of the lot belonged to William Wanamaker. The rest of the fine homes that once stood on this lot got either replaced or mangled up beyond recognition by the mid 20th Century. There was one lone motherfucker that managed to survive relatively intact. This was the Francis L. Potts Mansion, designed by Joseph Huston, a student of Furness.

 

Francis L. Potts Mansion in 1986. You can see the William Wanamaker Mansion way over to the left.

                     On December 14th, 1994, a massive fire consumed the old house and manage to damage the shit out of the ugly-ass buildings that were on either side.

The butt-fugly Eric's Rittenhouse Square Theatres, built 1968, modified 1985, ugly as fuck!

                     The insidious PPA took interest in the condemned fire-damaged properties and demolished them in 1995 with the intention of parking cars... thus began the life of this grassy stink-hole. On September 12th, 2007, the Dublin-based Castleway Properties bought the lot for THIRTY-SEVEN MILLION FUCKING DOLLARS with the intention of building a 525-foot L-shaped residential skyscraper on it. Funny, the tax records say they only bought it for $1.
        

I could fux with it.

                          Only eight months later, they gave the fuck up. They did one of those "information only" presentations, but after that, nothing.  Speculation arose over whether there would be a different project here instead by the same developer or if something completely different would be coming. I seem to remember another proposal for this spot that looked like a ziggurat with green roofs all over it... maybe I dreamed it.
                          This lot's only claim to fame at this point is that the owner is a fucking dirty shitbag tax cheat. This property is one of the many many many tax delinquent properties that have gained attention in the last few months. This lot's tax bill is $145,253.88 a year. Pay the fuck up!

Lost Building of the Week-- October 19th

Second Philadelphia Mint

NW Corner of Chestnut and Juniper

Strictly Stricklandious!

                       Here's another great structure from the age when Philly was known as the "Athens of America". People take Greek Revival buildings for granted but don't realize that in the early 1800's, this shit was like a 4,000 foot skyscraper.
                       In 1827, the U.S. Mint in Philadelphia was facing a problem. They had been working out of this dinky little building just north of Seventh and Market, but the demand for coinage was at an unbelievably high level and they could not keep up no matter how many additions or pieces of new equipment they acquired. In December of 1828, the workers at the Mint begged the chairman of the House of Representatives Mint committee to build them a new place, much larger and more modern of any mint in existence.
                      Congress took the matter very seriously, feeling guilty that they allowed the country's monies to be manufactured in an oversized rowhouse for the last 30 years. On March 2nd, 1829, they passed a bill creating a new U.S. Mint, this time so big that it would fill the country's needs for generations. They purchased a huge plot of land at the northwest corner of Juniper and Chestnut, which was at that time a no-mans' land. Here is where the mega-mint would be built.
                       For such a monumental design, they needed a monumental architect. Enter William Strickland. This motherfucker didn't fuck around. He gave them a white marble Grecian Temple dedicated to the manufacture of Scrilla that had some of the biggest interior spaces you could find outside of a cathedral. On July 4th, 1829, the few Masons left in Philly (Freemasonry was in decline at the time) got their aprons on and laid the cornerstone for this monster. Construction took 4 years.

When it was new. It may not look like much now, but in 1833 this was a big fucking deal.

                          When the new mint first opened, they just carted over the shitty equipment they were using at the old building and the stuff they churned out looked like crap. The mint sent out a scout, Franklin Peale, to go check out (spy on) European coinage methods and steal their ideas. Two years later, Peale's return co-incided with a noticeable upgrade in coining technology at the mint.
                        Decades passed and the mint stayed in continuous use, as so it was designed. The city grew though and past it. Technological upgrades and additional mints in other cities (some designed by Strickland) kept the building useful up into the 1870's.
                         In 1881, the building was falling apart and started to become too small to meet the demands of the age. An addition was planned that was to be constructed in 1885. Congress authorized the design and threw some money at it, but it ended up becoming a classic Philadelphia Dead-Ass Proposal. Instead, Congress just said, "Fuck it, build a new one.", and they did in 1901.

The planned addition. I'll tell ya, it's not bad!

                        After the mint moved to their new digs, the building at Juniper and Chestnut was demolished and was replaced with the Mint Arcade until 1914, when the Widener Build was built. That building is pretty cool but it would have been nice if this thing was still around. Good job, Strickland.

The mint looking pretty haggard in 1895.

Butt Fugly Building of the Week-- October 18th

Penn Mutual Tower Addition II

530 Walnut Street

Ugh.

                      Ah jeez, another building made of sidewalk. So they took not one, but TWO cool-looking old buildings and fucked them over with this glass-walled concrete monstrosity. What's worse is that this fuckbucket is across the street from Independence Hall, so this is some of the first Philadelphia architecture seen by people all over the world. That's a shame, right there.
                    The Penn Mutual complex is actually an interesting melange of architectural styles from different periods. There's a 1913-built section, 1931-built section, and then this 1976 cemento-castle with an 1835 facadectomied John Haviland Egyptian Revival. It started in the late 1960's. Penn Mutual Life Insurance Company wanted to throw yet another addition on to their multi-building, but wanted to save the ancient 1835 Pennsylvania Fire Insurance Company building that still survived on the same block.
                   In 1970 they found the Great Satans of Philadelphia, Mitchell and Giurgola, and asked them to complete the physical challenge. These two dumbshits came up with a building that would connect the old John Haviland building's facade with the other Penn Mutual Tower using a humongous mishmash of window and sidewalk, looking like a giant Monolith of Turd-Colored Asscheese.

They made the rendering look sleek so the Penn Mutual guys would be fooled.

They did the same thing with the model. Made it look like it wasn't made of sidewalk.

                    People lost their shit when they saw those renders. They thought this thing was going to be some kind of futuristic Tron-type building design with the Haviland facade incorporated. As the building started to be constructed in the early 70's, it became obvious that this piece of shit was just gonna be another Mitchell Giurgola concrete jumble of garbage.

Under confucktion.

                       Once it was complete, it was hailed as an amazing piece of modern architecture. People thought the retention of the old Pennsylvania Fire Insurance facade was ingenious...the place even had an observation deck from which the Independence Historical Grass Lot Collection could be viewed! Little did they know that the concrete would quickly brown-up and crumble.

Penn Mutual Observation deck. It and its accompanying exhibit hall closed in 1983.

Check this shit out.

                     Of course, like most butt-fugly buildings, this piece of shit got a shitload of design awards. Despite that, Penn Mutual said "fuck it" to this building and moved over to Horsham, PA. The building now just houses offices from a shitload of different companies along with a whole lot of air... much of the building is vacant.
                     What a shame. There was a chance to put a cool-looking building here that would fit in with the older additions and blend with the Haviland design. Too bad they handed the project over to the Great Satans. What a bummer.