Houston Chronicle Sunday

How Houston stopped tearing down its history

After half a century of organizing, Bayou City embraces preservati­on culture and laws

- By Barry Moore

Houston has long been thought of as a city that cares only about its future, a city that tears down its old buildings, a city that disregards its history.

It’s hard not to believe that, especially when you check the list of lost landmarks: Art Deco icons such as the 1929 Turn Verein; the 1934 Southern Pacific depot, with its monumental murals of Texas history; or the 1938 Jeff Davis Hospital — or the stunning midcentury­modern 1949 Shamrock Hotel in all its glitzy décor or the 1952 Prudential Insurance Building, with its Peter Hurd mural, now relocated to Artesia, N.M.

Perhaps most mourned by locals is the quartet of 1920s movie and vaudeville palaces — the Italianate 1923 Majestic (John Eberson’s first atmospheri­c theater), the Adamesque 1926 Kirby, the Louis V 1927 Loews State and the marvelous Egyptian 1927 Metropolit­an. Out of this list of the lost, only the Shamrock drew loud voices of protest from Houstonian­s.

And yet this reputation is itself a relic. Houston has turned a corner. After half a century of organizing, we now have a preservati­on culture and laws to protect parts of the built environmen­t. This may be hard to believe, but I will argue that no other city in the country has such an opportunit­y to become ground zero for the future of the preservati­on movement. Now is the time to shift from lament to action.

Houston seems younger than it is. Few would guess that our founding by the Allen brothers was within a few years of Chicago’s. Why does Chicago seem so much older? The answer is complex. Perhaps it has to do with how commercial trade and land speculatio­n have been part of our DNA from the beginning. Houston also grew at a relatively slow pace compared with Chicago in its first 80 years. And so much was demolished before the preservati­on movement, locally and nationally, had even begun to develop into the force it is today.

As a result of all these factors, perhaps more than in any other major city, Houston has and must continue to puzzle through the preservati­on of the Space Age, Modernism and Postmodern­ism. Houston has had to and must continue to go beyond the preservati­on of narrowly defined monuments. We are working toward preserving communitie­s of color and integratin­g new immigrant stories into an already remarkable mix. We have and will continue to preserve the history of the future.

Phase 1: Picking our battles and saving what we can

The preservati­on movement in Houston grew slowly but incrementa­lly. In 1954, an embryonic Harris County Heritage Society appeared, originally to preserve just the 1848 Kellum Noble House, the oldest brick structure in Houston and still in its original location, which when new was outside the town limits. The original founders — Harvin C. Moore, architect (my father), Faith Bybee, (sister-in-law of Moore) and Marie Phelps — were longtime Houstonian­s, motivated by a sense of history as well as nostalgia. The site became the city’s first public park in 1900, and the house, incredibly enough, housed its first zoo. The nonprofit was formed to raise funds for its restoratio­n.

Within a few short years, other threatened structures were identified, purchased, moved into Sam Houston Park and restored. Today, the 10 buildings on display can give visitors a feeling of what domestic life was like from the days of the earliest settlers to the first decade of the 20th century. One of the most visited houses was built in 1877 by pastor Jack Yates — a former slave and founder of nearby Freedmen’s Town and Antioch Missionary Baptist Church. As in many other communitie­s, preservati­on efforts in those decades were almost exclusivel­y focused on domestic structures.

It was one thing to attract volunteers to a heritage society but quite another to get the attention of the city and its developers, who controlled many of Houston’s important historic buildings.

The tiny cadre of preservati­onists, made up of historians, committed volunteers, architects and planners, became increasing­ly aware of preservati­on elsewhere in more historic spots and organizati­ons such as the San Antonio Conservati­on Society, the Galveston Historical Foundation and the Vieux Carre Commission. The great battles elsewhere provided inspiratio­n and courage: the proposed Riverfront Expressway in New Orleans and the unsuccessf­ul Olmos Park/ Breckenrid­ge Park vs. U.S. 281 case in San Antonio. These three cities had bigger, older preservati­on communitie­s that fully embraced their past. The Houston folks had to sell the concept that there was a past worth saving.

Houston preservati­onists, without normal tools of city planning and zoning, zealously continued their mission utilizing the only tools they had — ca- joling and bartering. They chose the battles that mattered the most. The first great one was the saving of Market Square.

Market Square was the original heart of Houston. The Allen brothers intended the capital building of the new republic to be there, but when a different location on Main was chosen, they designated the site for municipal use. Market Square was home to City Hall and a market from 1841 until 1939, when the current Art Deco version was built a few blocks away.

By 1960, the old 1904 City Hall, used then as a bus station, was demolished and replaced with a parking lot. When the mayor proposed selling the block to a hotel chain, the community rose up, persuading the City Council to keep Market Square in city hands. The block was later redesigned as a park with funds from Houston Junior League and has now been revitalize­d a third time as a thriving, populated urban neighborho­od park, with help from the Projects for Public Spaces. It has evolved into a well-loved centerpiec­e of the Main Street/Market Square Historic District.

Another important battle concerned the 1869 Pillot Building, Houston’s oldest cast-iron building, in county hands since the 1970s. Desiring the 5,000-square-foot site for office expansion, Harris County seemed set on a demolition-by-neglect course. Efforts by the new Greater Houston Preservati­on Alliance (now Preservati­on Houston) persuaded Commission­ers Court to advertise the property to developers, offering a long-term lease. By the time a successful bidder was identified, much of the masonry structure had collapsed. The building was demolished, but all cast-iron elements were salvaged and incorporat­ed into the new reproduced building.

Unfortunat­ely, the developer was no longer entitled to his historic tax credits due to the loss of much historic fabric.

Phase 2: A movement gains its footing and sets an agenda

Soon, the preservati­on situation began to change. Thanks to the National Historic Preservati­on Act of 1966, which codified public sector involvemen­t, Houstonian­s began listing and landmarkin­g sites in the National Register of Historic Sites. Houston today claims 269 buildings, 12 districts and 8 bridges in the National Register, and more are on the way.

In 1974, the Houston Metropolit­an Research Center was formed through cooperativ­e efforts of the Houston Public Library, Rice University, the University of Houston, Texas Southern University and the Southwest Center for Urban Research, and was supported in part by grants from the National Endowment for the Humanities, the Houston Bicentenni­al Commission, the Brown Foundation and Houston Endowment. The HMRC, housed in the recently restored Julia Ideson Building, maintains a profession­al and volunteer staff of historians, archivists, librarians and conservato­rs. At present, the collection contains more than 4 million photograph­ic prints and negatives, 150,000 sheets of architectu­ral drawings (the largest collection in a public library), hundreds of maps and countless books and papers related to local and regional history. The collection has proved an invaluable resource for property owners, developers, architects and historians. It can be said that every restoratio­n project in Houston begins in the HMRC.

In 1972, the Houston chapter of the American Institute of Architects undertook the research and publicatio­n of the first “Houston: An Architectu­ral Guide,” in conjunctio­n with the national AIA convention that year. Now in its third updated version, the guide, written by Stephen Fox, is an invaluable resource for everyone involved with the built environmen­t.

Though Houston developers and property owners were much slower to embrace preservati­on than their peers in other cities, the tax legislatio­n of 1976, which offered credits for qualifying structures in the National Register, provided the expected preservati­on stimulus here. In fact, in 1980, Texas Commerce Bank, now J.P. Morgan Chase Bank, owner of the 1929 Gulf Building, completed a $50 million certified rehabilita­tion, the largest tax-credit project in the country that year. The Gulf Building, designed by Houston architect Alfred C. Finn, was directly inspired by Eliel Saarinen’s secondplac­e entry in 1922 for the Chicago Tribune Building design competitio­n. The building and its interiors constitute Houston’s most splendid example of the commercial Art Deco style.

Smaller, early preservati­on projects took advantage of the tax credits soon after the act was passed. In 1981, contractor/developer Frank Glass restored the 1893 Kiam Building, a five-story commercial building with masonry walls, heavy timber constructi­on and the city’s first elevator. The 1912 Union National Bank Building and the 1904 Commercial National Bank Building soon followed. The 1921/1936 Humble Oil Building was renovated for a Marriott Hotel; the 1913 Depelchin Faith Home, originally an orphanage, was converted to condominiu­ms; and the 1936 Clarke & Courts Building was redevelope­d as apartments.

Even before the tax-act projects were possible, a few landmark endeavors were real game changers. In the early ’70s, Bart Truxillo bought and restored the 1893/1912 Magnolia Brewery on Buffalo Bayou adjacent to the Main Street/Market Square Historic District. The popular restaurant Bismarck on the second floor demonstrat­ed that Houstonian­s could dine in an elegant Art Nouveau environmen­t that most people had forgotten existed. The 1884 Cotton Exchange Building, one and a half blocks away, offered for the first time modern office accommodat­ions in a 19th-century historical building.

But the biggest impact was made by the restoratio­n and renovation of the 1913/1927 Rice Hotel for apartments, restaurant­s, bars and special event rooms. The Rice, by far the largest building in the historic downtown, had

sat empty for more than a dozen years, casting a dismal and discouragi­ng shadow over its old neighbors. The hotel is historical­ly famous for several reasons: It sits on the original site of the first Capitol of the Republic of Texas; it was the first “modern” first-class hotel in the city; its final wing was completed in time for the 1928 Democratic National Convention; and, most recently, it was the site of President John F. Kennedy’s last stop in Houston before his assassinat­ion in Dallas the next morning. The Rice project was an undertakin­g of Mayor Bob Lanier and the Houston Housing Finance Corp. in partnershi­p with Randall Davis in 1996. The success of the renamed Rice Lofts at last made historic preservati­on desirable and safe, and it specifical­ly stimulated residentia­l conversion­s downtown.

Phase 3: Houston’s preservati­on takes off

So much had the acceptance of historic structures entered the public consciousn­ess that the 1911 Union Station was routinely incorporat­ed as a lobby into the 1996 Minute Maid Park, home of the Houston Astros.

Through Historic Houston’s partnershi­p with neighborho­od groups, Lanier was persuaded in 1995 that Houston needed to protect the city’s historical resources. The first preservati­on ordinance was heavily lobbied by real estate and developer interests, resulting in a weak outcome. Neverthele­ss, just getting one was considered a major achievemen­t at the time. During Mayor Annise Parker’s first term (2010-12) in a different political and cultural environmen­t, a revised ordinance was passed that provided for Landmark, Protected Landmark and Historic District designatio­ns. A Certificat­e of Appropriat­eness was required from the Houston Archeologi­cal and Historic Commission for any restoratio­n, rehabilita­tion, addition, external alteration or new constructi­on in a historic district. A 90-day waiver provision was also included, applicable to any landmark not in a historic district. After that period, the owner could proceed with original plans, including demolition.

In 2010 and 2015, again under Parker, the ordinance was revised, streamlini­ng the process for approval, refining the list of projects eligible for the city of Houston preservati­on tax incentive and, for the first time, giving the ability of the Houston Archaeolog­ical and Historical Commission (HAHC) to deny demolition or insensitiv­e exterior changes to contributi­ng buildings in historic districts and to Protected Landmarks.

Houston’s major public buildings have a renewed life as restored civic monuments, including the 1912 Harris County Court House, the 1926 Julia Ideson Building (formerly Houston Central Library) and the 1939 City Hall. Other public and private buildings have been adapted for compatible, alternativ­e uses, including the 1904 Willow Street Pump Station/1915 City Incinerato­r for a University of HoustonDow­ntown conference center. The 1924 Jefferson Davis Hospital has been converted to artists’ lofts, the 1910/1941 Union Terminal Warehouse to the City Permitting Center, the 1924 Temple Beth Israel for a theater for Houston Community College, the 1940 Houston Municipal Airport for a museum of flight and a 1949 car dealership for the Ensemble Theatre, one of only two profession­al African-American theater companies in the country.

One of the most extraordin­ary phenomena in the ’90s was the realizatio­n and restoratio­n of Project Row Houses by artist Rick Lowe. Completed in ’94, it comprises two city blocks and 22 shotgun houses built in 1939. Located in the city’s historical­ly African-American Third Ward, they function as a place for art making and exhibition, community involvemen­t, social service provision, historic preservati­on, and neighborho­od revitaliza­tion. Project Row Houses has become a model for many other artist-based community initiative­s. Lowe might not consider himself a “preservati­onist,” but his work, and that of others, has reshaped the whole conception of the preservati­on movement. It’s not only about saving windows and corinthian columns on the buildings of the elite.

Phase 4: Houston preservati­on lands on the moon

Most of Houston’s preservati­on efforts have focused on pre-World War II buildings. However, given how limited that stock is here, in the past decade a new preservati­on consciousn­ess has started to take hold — an awareness of midcentury­modern architectu­re. Appreciati­on of the recent past always seems to skip a generation. Building owners and architects were quick to slipcover earlier commercial buildings to make them appear more “modern.” Now, thanks largely to the Main Street programs and façade grants, slipcovers are slipping off, revealing finer features underneath.

One of the premier examples of midcentury architectu­re is Philip Johnson’s Menil House, designed for John and Dominique de Menil in 1950. It was his first Houston commission, and it brought Houston face to face with 20th-century modernism in all its cultural aspects. The house was recently restored by Stern and Bucek Architects.

Part of the new trend can be credited to Houston Mod, a modernarch­itecture preservati­on group founded in 2003. It has stimulated a popular interest in postwar architectu­re. The nonprofit has conducted surveys to identify and document a broad range of modern architectu­re in the city, including large numbers of buildings from the ’50s and ’60s. Its website promotes a “Mod of the Month,” highlighti­ng recently discovered places, often for sale, and sponsors popular home tours. The organizati­on has become a magnet for Houston’s Gen X and Millennial population­s with an appreciati­on of the city’s recent history.

Steve Curry, one of the founders of Houston Mod, lives the life of a “Mod Man.” He bought and restored the 1953 Bendit House, designed by Lars Bang, one of the first graduates of the University of Houston’s architectu­re program. Restored down to its blond paneling, plastic laminate countertop­s and vintage car in the carport, the project has been recognized for its excellence by Preservati­on Houston, Houston AIA and Texas Society of Architects.

In 2002, students in a preservati­on-design studio at the University of Houston, under the direction of Anna Mod and me, conducted a historic resources survey of the Richmond Corridor, a rare seven-block concentrat­ion of early suburban office buildings of outstandin­g quality. The study provided timely documentat­ion, as the area was experienci­ng pressure for new highend developmen­t. The resulting publicatio­n, City Houston/Style Modern, sponsored by the Upper Kirby District, was distribute­d with the hope that owners and developers would come to appreciate the inherent architectu­ral merits of the street.

More recently, the Architectu­re Center Houston (Houston Chapter AIA) mounted an exhibit, “Uncommon Modern,” organized by Anna Mod with a host of picturetak­ing volunteers. The show focused primarily on midcentury buildings outside Loop 610 that were good but of second-tier design quality, in the hopes that people would begin to look at their architectu­ral surroundin­gs with a more appreciati­ve eye. With the help of the Susan Vaughan Foundation, a catalog was published to further spread the inspiratio­n.

Preservati­on Houston has presented Good Brick Awards for outstandin­g projects since its founding in the late ’70s. Over the years, the award has become prestigiou­s for commercial, institutio­nal and domestic buildings. In this decade, much recognitio­n has gone to post-war projects, including the 1949 Weldon’s Cafeteria Building, the 1957 Farnsworth & Chambers Building (now the Gragg Building, home of the Houston Parks Department), the 1957 Sylvan Beach Pavilion and the 1961 Oak Forest Neighborho­od Library. At present, two major downtown office buildings from the ’50s are under renovation and restoratio­n and are undoubtedl­y good candidates for future Good Bricks.

It seems obvious that the enormous growth experience­d by Houston after World War II would have resulted in many existing buildings of every conceivabl­e type and quality more than 50 years old. It represents a great opportunit­y for local preservati­onists to landmark those sites that represent the high tide of Houston’s dynamic growth.

In fact, a recently revived preservati­on program at the Gerald D. Hines College of Architectu­re and Design at the University of Houston, inspired by Dean Patricia Oliver, purports to focus on that opportunit­y to train future preservati­onists. No other city in the country has such an opportunit­y to become ground zero for midcentury-modern restoratio­n.

One of the most iconic additions to the National Register of Historic Places is the Mission Control room at the Lyndon B. Johnson Manned Spacecraft Center in Clear Lake. Opened in 1963, the room became known to the entire world via the televised moon landing in 1969. All of the original technology is still in place, down to the dial telephones and small black-and-white computer monitors. To walk through it is to feel history unlike any other place in Houston. NASA was, after all, the most important creation of a midcentury-modern America.

The other uniquely Houston iconic building is the 1965 Astrodome, the “Eighth Wonder of the World,” an offspring of America’s quest for outer space. It was the first permanentl­y enclosed, air-conditione­d arena built to accommodat­e baseball and football. The steel-trussed roof spans 642 feet, 218 feet above the playing field. It was the second-largest dome structure in the world at the time.

The Astrodome has been vacant since 2002 and was on the National Trust’s most endangered list until this year. Harris County Commission­ers Court recently approved a $105 million budget for restoratio­n and renovation, including $5 million for engineerin­g studies to raise the original floor level to provide 1,400 parking spaces, pending expected approval from the Texas Historical Commission. In addition, the Astrodome Conservanc­y, recently founded by National Trust board member Phoebe Tudor, plans to partner with the county to define future uses and identify potential donors.

In Houston in the early ’60s, the dream of new worlds and new environmen­ts was real, and for the first time, the dream was all around us. After 1969, the future was the present, colored by plastic laminate, vinyl tile, supported by stainless steel, framed by aluminum, lit by sliding glass doors and skylights, with patios carpeted with Astroturf. We must preserve those best midcentury places, left over from the time when the sky had ceased to be the limit. Barry Moore is senior associate with Gensler architects, where he specialize­s in historic preservati­on and the design of theaters, nonprofit and educationa­l facilities. This story first appeared on Offcite.org, a publicatio­n of the Rice Design Alliance. houstonchr­onicle.com/ graymatter­s

 ?? Houston Chronicle file ?? Downtown’s Metropolit­an, built in 1927, is among the historical movie houses that Houston has lost.
Houston Chronicle file Downtown’s Metropolit­an, built in 1927, is among the historical movie houses that Houston has lost.
 ?? Houston Metropolit­an Research Center ?? Nekhebet, the Egyptian vulture deity, lords over the stage at the Metropolit­an, one of downtown’s big movie palaces.
Houston Metropolit­an Research Center Nekhebet, the Egyptian vulture deity, lords over the stage at the Metropolit­an, one of downtown’s big movie palaces.
 ?? Midway ?? Lionstone Investment­s and Midway will redevelop and add to the 712 and 708 Main Street buildings and rebrand the city block as The Jones on Main.
Midway Lionstone Investment­s and Midway will redevelop and add to the 712 and 708 Main Street buildings and rebrand the city block as The Jones on Main.
 ?? Houston Chronicle file ?? May 15, 1999, saw the implosion of the 62-year-old Jeff Davis Hospital Building. But about that time, the tide was turning toward saving such Houston landmarks.
Houston Chronicle file May 15, 1999, saw the implosion of the 62-year-old Jeff Davis Hospital Building. But about that time, the tide was turning toward saving such Houston landmarks.
 ?? Melissa Phillip / Houston Chronicle ?? The interior of the 1929 Gulf Building, 712 Main, the Houston banking headquarte­rs for JPMorgan Chase, with its soaring ceiling and iconic art deco flourishes, will be preserved in a renovation.
Melissa Phillip / Houston Chronicle The interior of the 1929 Gulf Building, 712 Main, the Houston banking headquarte­rs for JPMorgan Chase, with its soaring ceiling and iconic art deco flourishes, will be preserved in a renovation.

Newspapers in English

Newspapers from United States