Showing posts with label Reflections. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Reflections. Show all posts

Saturday, May 12, 2018

May 12, 1947 -- Tribune Editorial Says Chicago in a Slump



May 12, 1947 –A doleful editorial in the Chicago Daily Tribunebegins, ‘Chicago is in a civic slump, however much it may be thriving industrially.  Dozens of improvement projects are languishing in this, the very city that once was a pioneer in every kind of municipal enterprise.” [Chicago Daily Tribune, May 12, 1983]“We have many things to be proud of,” the editorial continues, “but most of them were achieved long ago.  Now we cannot even get rid of smoke, to say nothing of obsolete railroad terminals.”  As a result, Chicago, the paper observes, is losing ground to other cities, “New York is building bridges, tunnels, and roads to overcome the handicaps of its site. Los Angeles has vastly extended its boundaries and is getting water from sources hundreds of miles away.  San Francisco has solved its problems of expansion by building bridges that are unequaled in all the world.” In the meantime, “Chicago, the erstwhile city of ‘I Will,’ the city that once was a national symbol of energy and originality, lives on her past.”  As the Tribunenears its one-hundredth anniversary, the column concludes, “Those who should be pulling Chicago out of its slump may expect to hear form The Tribunefrequently and not admiringly as this newspaper enters its second century.” Contrasting the 1947 photo taken looking east from where today's River Point tower stands with the site as it appears today shows that, fortunately, the lack of vision that the paper lamented did not last forever.


May 12, 1880 – A Criminal Courts judge upholds the right of the city to transfer the control of Michigan Avenue and Thirty-Fifth Street to the South Park Commissioners, upholding the Boulevard Act of 1879.  The judge states that on February 21, 1869 the charter of the Board of South Park Commissioners gave that body the responsibility for existing highways and “to lay out new ones within the defined limits of the South Parks, and to manage and control them, free to all persons, but subject to such necessary rules and regulations as shall from time to time be adopted by said Commissioners for the well ordering and government of the same.” [Chicago Daily Tribune, May 13, 1880] Subsequent legislation added to the charter but did not impair it.  The Boulevard Act of 1879 went even farther as the judge observed in his opinion, “It is an act to enable the Park Commissioners ‘to take, regulate, control, and improve public streets leading to public parks, and to levy and collect special taxes or assessments to pay for the improvement itself.’  It authorizes the Park Commissioners to ‘connect’ the present park system, including existing boulevards and driveways, with any point within the city by the use of ‘connecting street or streets, or parts thereof,’ and it authorizes the city, town or village ‘to invest any such Park Boards with the right to control, improve and maintain any of the streets of such city’ … ‘for the purpose of carrying out the provisions of this act.’”  The commissioners, in other words, had the legal authority to connect any road leading to or abutting a park to city streets that would make a connection to a park, and they had the right, with permission of the city, to levy taxes to build and maintain such connections.  The judge upholds the right of the South Park Commissioners to assume responsibility for Michigan Avenue south of the river since it is an important connection to the roads and boulevards leading to city parks. The above photo shows Michigan Avenue in 1885 at its intersection with Van Buren Street.


May 12, 2011 – The Chicago Tribune reports that the U. S. Environmental Protection Agency has ordered Chicago to improve its sewage treatment system so that the river will be clean enough for “recreation in and on the water.” [Chicago Tribune, May 13, 2011] The new order goes far beyond those of a state panel that a year earlier had issued guidelines that would make the river clean enough for canoers and paddlers who “briefly fell into the water”. The ruling will necessitate the overhaul of two out of three of the city’s massive sewage treatment plants. The Metropolitan Water Reclamation District estimates the cost will be close to $1 billion while the EPA puts the estimate at something less than $250 million. “We’ve got a chance for our generation to do something big for this important river,” says Senator Dick Durbin.

Monday, March 2, 2015

Jeanne Gang's Aqua and its Neighbor

Aqua and its Wacker Buddy (JWB Photo)
Five years ago an article in The New Yorker began with this description of Jeanne Gang’s Aqua . . .

She started with a fairly conventional rectangular glass slab, then transformed it by wrapping it on all four sides with wafer-thin, curving concrete balconies, describing a different shape on each floor.  Gang turned the façade into an undulating landscape of bending, flowing concrete, as if the wind were blowing ripples across the surface of the building.  You know the tower is huge and solid, but it feels malleable, its exterior pulsing with a gentle rhythm.  [The New Yorker, February 1, 2010]

Look up at Aqua the next time you are wandering along the river east of the Hyatt.  It’s a magnificent contrast – the “pulsing rhythms” of Aqua lapping against the strict triangular symmetry of Harry Weese’s Swissøtel. ‘

For 125 million bucks Weese gave the city the first high-rise building east of Michigan Avenue that actually acknowledged, reflected and amplified the meeting of river, lake and sky.  Aqua, certainly a presence in its own right, does nothing to diminish that. 

Tuesday, February 3, 2015

Dallas and Chicago -- Density of Design Is Sometimes Just Dense

Renzo Piano's Nasher Sculpture Center, Dallas
CityLab Photo
Just finished an online article in CityLab, a daily rundown of interesting topics collected by The Atlantic Monthly, that article entitled “For the Best U.S. Architecture Per Square Mile, Head to Dallas.”  The headline got my attention right away.  The sub-headline explained, “New York has the nation’s tallest skyscraper.  Chicago has some fancy buildings.  But one city wins when it comes to sheer density of urban design.”

Chicago has some fancy buildings?  W-h-a-a-a-a- . . .

I get what the author, Kriston Capps, was going for.  Pei, Piano, Koohaas, Johnson, Foster all lined up next to one another in the Arts District of Dallas.  I’m not taking anything away from Dallas.  Norman Foster’s Opera House is magnificent.  Renzo Piano’s Nasher Sculpture Center is as restrained and as respectful of its purpose as any of the great buildings his workshop has designed.

But a city is more than a new car showroom.

And in Chicago within an area of five square blocks some pretty good stuff, too.  What I keep coming back to, though, is not so much how many great buildings Chicago has or how many big names have come to the city to design them.  What impresses me is how much the buildings respect each other as well as the city in which they stand.

CitiGroup Center & 2 North Riverside Plaza
JWB Photo
Take for, example, the two buildings in the above photo – Helmut Jahn’s CitiGroup Center, completed in 1987, and Two North Riverside Plaza, formerly the home of the Chicago Daily News, designed by Holabird and Root and finished in 1929.

Is it just me?  Or do those glassy curves of the 42-story tower at 500 West Madison whisper to the stepped-back limestone at the top of the Art Deco building on the river.  The arrangement of the silvered windows on the edges of the newer building almost outline the earlier building, emphasizing its sleek lines, rather than diminishing them.

But . . . there’s more.

Where did the curves of Helmut Jahn’s design start?  In another building just down the street and across the river, a building designed by the same firm that designed the 1929 Art Deco beauty that thrusts its great public plaza toward the river in front of the CitiGroup Center.

Check this out . . .
 
Board of Trade Interior (JWB Photo)
See what I mean?  The unbelievable interior of the Chicago Board of Trade, completed in 1934, clearly gives rise to the Helmut Jahn design of the CitiGroup Center.  And why shouldn’t it?  The building on Madison Street was originally designed to be the addition to the Board of Trade before the powers that be rejected that design and opted for another Helmut Jahn plan.

And that’s my point.  Density of good design is a wonderful thing.  What city wouldn’t want that?  In Chicago, though, we not only have a city jam-packed with great buildings.  But we have something more, I think. We have buildings that don’t mind talking to one another.

Sometimes they even shout to one another from the rooftops . . .

Ceres by John Stoors (JWB Photo)

Tuesday, June 3, 2014

Chicago River Walk -- What a Difference a Couple Years Make

Chicago River Walk Construction (Curbed Chicago)
I swear – I never will get used to how quickly time goes by. 

As I wound my way up and down the river yesterday, conducting a couple of tours for the Chicago Architecture Foundation with the First Lady crew, it became almost impossible to make myself heard above the staccato clang of sheet piles being driven on the south side of the river between Wabash and Dearborn Streets.

The work, well underway now, is part of the massive River Walk project that in the next 18 months or so will turn the south side of the river, especially the section from Wabash to Lake Street into a tourist magnet.  When finished, the design will yield five themed areas that are expected to pull 2.8 million visitors to a section of town that was formerly hidden from view and inaccessible.

And that is what is so hard to believe.  Because on this date, June 3, in both 2010 and 2011 The Chicago Tribune carried stories about the river that were far less flattering than the glitzy new tourist attraction we are watching rise today.

In 2010 the Obama administration doubled down on a pitch the State of Illinois had already made about cleaning up the river.  The Feds were not content with simply providing standards for water quality.  The U. S. Environmental Protection Agency’s stated in a letter to top Illinois officials that the Federal Clean Water Act required all waterways to be eventually clean enough for recreation “In and out of the water.”  [Chicago Tribune, June 3, 2010]

And what was the response of local officials.  Louis Kollias, the director of monitoring and research for the Metropolitan Water District of Greater Chicago, said, “We think the river is clean enough for how it is used today.  Why should we be spending millions of dollars to do this?”

Sort of missed the point, didn’t he?  A point, after all, which the E. P. A. said was to STOP using the river the way it was being used.

Mayor Daley joined the outcry, in a mixture of mockery, sarcasm and delightful Daley-isms, the Mayor cried, “Go swim in the Potomac.  We’re trying to make this river every day cleanable, more cleanable.”

Exactly a year later, on June 3, 2011, The Tribune reported that the Illinois Pollution Control Board had handed down a 58-page order demanding that the Chicago River, the Cal-Sag Channel and the Little Calumet River be made safe for primary contact, a term that set a standard for human beings being able to use the river recreationally, including taking a swim, without fear of morphing into alien life forms.

Two weeks later the board of the Water Reclamation District ended Chicago’s hold-out as the only major United States city that skipped the final germ-killing step in the treatment of its waste water before it was released, by accepting the mandate of the E.P.A. and the Illinois Pollution Control Board and approving a bond issue to clean up its act.

That was just three years ago!  Today with barges crowding the construction site for the River Walk and pile drivers slamming away at the barriers for the recreational zones that will serve to strengthen the beauty of this city in a garden, it’s hard to believe so much has happened so fast. 

Every day we’re getting cleanable, more cleanable.  It’s something to feel good about. 



Monday, June 2, 2014

The Chicago Fire Telegraph -- June 2, 1871

Chicago Burns, October 8, 1871 (Wikipedia Photo)
Most Chicagoans recognize the significance of the year 1871.  The second red star in Chicago’s city flag memorializes that year, the year that the city burned to the ground in a 36-hour fire that destroyed over 17,000 buildings and left a third of the city’s population without a place to sleep.

One would think that in a city built almost completely of cheap and readily available lumber during a drought of unprecedented proportions, authorities would have gone out of their way to keep disaster at bay.  But when Matthias Schaffer spotted the fire at 9:00 p.m. on the evening of October 8, the city was ill prepared for the horrors that would unfold over the next 36 hours.

It’s always easy to look back at events and see how things would have changed if different decisions had been made.  It’s easy, and It’s unfair to those who were meeting events as they unfolded in real time.

Still, the other day I was looking through a Chicago Tribune article that ran on this date, June 2, of 1871, a piece that provided the deliberations of the city’s common council on the previous evening.  One piece of business caught my attention . . .

FIRE ALARM TELEGRAPH
   A communication was received from the Board of Fire Commissioners, with a communication from E. P. Chandler, Superintendent of the Fire Alarm Telegraph, calling attention to the fact that no estimate had been made by the Finance Committee for the necessary expense of the fire alarm telegraph for the current year.  The communication further set forth that a reduction of the repairing corps by one man was unwise, and undesirable.
   The report was referred to the Finance Committee, with instructions to report why no appropriation had been recommended.

Here was a city about to burn to the ground, a wooden city, a doomed city, at the beginning of a summer’s-long drought, and no appropriation had been made to find a way to fund the system that would .  More than that, the staff upon which the system depended had apparently been reduced in size.

Like I said at the beginning of this little piece, it’s easy to sit back and criticize, especially easy in this case given the magnitude of the disaster that would unfold four months later. 

Yet, how much different are we from the penny-pinching, shortsighted members of the 1871 Chicago common council?  With reports that almost daily inform us that Miami will be underwater in a century or so or that the traders on Wall Street will be wearing wet suits and fins to work in that amount of time, we keep doing what we have always done, hoping that the unthinkable will not occur.


Human nature, I guess.  Refer it to committee.

Tuesday, May 27, 2014

Home Again

Well, we’re back home after a 2,100-mile driving odyssey up the east coast and across the Allegheny Mountains to flat land once again.  It’s good to be back in this sleek city, warm once again after a winter that nearly lured the glaciers into a new southern crawl.

Our trip took us first to St. Augustine, the oldest city in the country with its early Spanish influence in evidence everywhere with a dallop of robber-baron opulence and a huge assortment of charming contemporary bed-and-breakfast inns.

The dome of the Flagler College dormitory, once the Ponce de Leon Hotel in St. Augustine
(JWB Photo, 2014)
Castillo de San Marcos in St. Augustine, where construction began in 1672 . (JWB Photo, 2014)
From there we continued up the coast to Savannah, Georgia, a gentle city with a park every two blocks no matter which way we walked.  History and refinement is part of the air you breathe as you walk the old brick paths on your way to the bars and shops carved out of the old cotton warehouses along the Savannah River. 

But there was also misery here, and you feel that, too.  Before the cotton gin it took one slave a whole day to remove the seeds from a pound of cotton.  Four hundred pounds made up a bale, and those warehouses were piled to the rafters with those bales.

Just one of the many parks that beautify Savannah (JWB Photo, 2014)
The 1858 fountain in Forsyth Park, Savannah (JWB Photo, 2014)
One of hundreds of small gardens and courtyards that separate
many of the homes in Savannah (JWB Photo, 2014)
Great little bar we stopped in for an afternoon thirst-quencher.  There
are plenty from which to choose.  (JWB Photo, 2014)
On to Charlotte to visit old and good friends and from there on to Arlington, Virginia to spend a day or two with my kid sister, a time that included an unbelievable meal at the Capital Grille and a quick Metro trip into the National Mall for a stroll around the National Sculpture Garden.

Harry Weese's unbelievable Metro system, still fresh, vibrant and visually
stunning after more than a half-century (JWB Photo, 2014)
Joan Miró's Personnage Gothique, Oeseau-Eclai at the National
Gallery of Art Sculpture Garden (JWB Photo, 2014)
And then . . . a stop outside New York City to visit our daughter and son-in-law, who generously allowed us full and complete access to our granddaughters, Maddie, just short of her third birthday, and little Faye who is using her seventh month to experiment with hands-and-knees exploration.

The Highlight of the Trip -- Maddie and her little sister, Faye (JWB Photo, 2014)
It was an 800-plus mile hike from there to home with a stop at the Flossmoor Station Brewery, one of the original brew houses in the area, for a great burger, an unbelievable nacho, and a couple of great tasting Pullman brown ales.

It is an amazing thing to drive into this beautiful city on a clear night in May after a long time spent on the road.  Chicago doesn’t crowd you as you enter it; it’s not a city that insists that you love it.  It stands back, separated from Lake Shore Drive by the expanse of Grant Park, its glittering towers waiting for you to come to them. 

There isn’t a one of those towers that, on a still spring night, doesn’t seem perfectly placed, especially on this night, the Sunday of Memorial Day weekend, with 300 East Randolph proclaiming in letters five stories tall, Some Gave All.  Waking up the next morning, with the bikers pushing their way up and down the drive and the boaters just heading out on a nearly windless lake, everything was right with the world.  

We were where we belonged.

Welcome home to a city that allows you to love it with no conditions.
(JWB Photo, 2014)
So we’re back.  I’m home, back home, home to share some more of the amazing stories that make up the history of this improbably beautiful prairie berg, the city I love.

Tuesday, March 25, 2014

Chicago Water Tower Dedication -- March 25, 1867

The Chicago Water Tower (JWB, 2013)
Ask anyone who has visited Chicago to name his or her five most memorable sights and Chicago’s Water Tower (the fancy stand pipe and not the indoor mall) is sure to be among them.

It was on this day, March 25, way back in 1867 that the complex that made up the little city’s “Water Works” was dedicated and a cornerstone laid at Chicago and what is now Michigan Avenue (Back in those days it was Pine Street).

“Early in the morning the city was all alive,” The Tribune reported at the time.  “No formal proclamation had stopped the people from their labors, to watch the ceremonies which would attend the ushering in of the new water era, but the citizens generally recognized the importance of the occasion and turned out in great numbers to witness the proceedings and participate in them.”  [Chicago Tribune, March 26, 1867]

Despite a brief snowfall in the early morning, the day was “all that could have been desired at this period of the year” and “the ground was not hard, but the mud was only shallow, and it was not painful or unpleasant to walk through it.”  The mood was festive with “Everybody . . . in good humor at the idea that good water was here at last.”

Chicago Water Works (1886), Pine Street separating the two structures
(wikipedia image)
This was a very big deal, marking the culmination of the plan of Ellis S. Chesebrough to make the city a healthier place through the improvement of its sewage and water distribution systems.  In June of 1862 the Chicago Common Council adopted the city engineer’s plan for bringing uncontaminated lake water to the city through a “crib” located two-and-a-half miles offshore.  The first brick was laid at the crib on December 22, 1865. By that date workmen had already constructed a tunnel from the shore that was 4,825 feet long.  Less than a year later, on December 6, 1866 a section of tunnel leading from the crib was linked to the section leading from the shore. 

In a little over two years of work, most of it done with picks and shovels, a project that saved the city was completed.  It was an amazing, almost reckless, plan undertaken by a city that had no other options.  The fact that it worked so well was the highest testimonial to the expertise of Ellis Cheseborough.

The Chicago Water Works from Chicago Avenue, 1896 (Google image)
The Water Works at Chicago and Pine served to house all of the massive pumping equipment as well as the stand pipe necessary to keep the system pressurized.  Built on the site of the former old works, the style was “castellated Gothic, with heavy bottlemented corners, executed with solid rock-faced ashlar stone and cut-stone trimmings, all the details being of a massive and permanent character.”  [Andreas, Alfred Theodore.  History of Chicago from 1857 to the Fire of 1871.  Chicago, 1885. p.67]

The water tower, itself, was 154 feet tall, topped with a cupola with windows surrounding it.  In its interior a six-ton stand pipe was placed at its base.  From that a three-foot iron stand pipe rose to a height of 138 feet.  W. W. Boyington, the architect of the complex, designed a building that was “looked upon as thoroughly fire-proof,” [Andreas] which was borne out when the tower was one of the few structures left standing in the city after the disastrous fire of 1871.

On the day of the dedication a police contingent led the parade, starting out from the Court House on Dearborn Street at 9:00 in the morning, and as it moved north it was joined by various other elements coming from different directions.  The Tribune described the scene . . .

The Fire Department formed on Washington street, east of La Salle.  Before the marshaling and arranging of the constituent parts of the great procession, unutterable excitement prevailed.  Bands came marching from different quarters; Marshals galloped hotly to and fro; Masons with their plain white aprons or their gorgeous trappings hurried singly to the rendezvous; fire engines and hose carts rolled forward covered with sturdy firemen in their great hats and blue uniforms, and drawn by their powerful horses, looking s if they wanted to break into a run to the fire which must have called them out; men, women and children crowded the sidewalks in a state of excited admiration, making pedestrianism almost impossible; whole ominbuses, carriages, trucks and drays, on business met most vexatious delays and obstructions at every rod, and were often forced to work long detours in order to pass the living mass. 

At 11:00 the procession started slowly up Dearborn Street to Lake, headed west to La Salle, south to Washington, and then up Clark Street.  By 11:30 the band could be heard approaching the water tower.  At just about that time an accident occurred. 

According to The Tribune, “In their eagerness to gain an advantageous seat near the platform, a number of men clambered to the roof of a very frail wooden shed used for dressing the stones.  Suddenly the structure gave way beneath them, and about twenty luckless individuals were precipitated into the rubbish beneath.”  No one was seriously injured, but In the midst of the chaos, almost exactly at noon, the head of the procession arrived on the grounds of the dedication ceremony.

After preliminary remarks the cornerstone was raised up and the Reverend O. H. Tiffany led the crowd in a prayer which he ended with these words:

"And now we praise thee oh God, for thy great bounty unto us – we thank thee that thou hast stored our land with plenty, that our fields teem with fertility, and that our waters are glad with health.  We bless thee for the skill of our artisans and of our workmen and we thank thee that this day we are brought together to lay the foundation stone of this structure.  We earnestly pray that our best expectations may be realized, and that by it blessing may ever flow, from this great lake to all the homes of this great city.  We pray, also for Thy blessing upon all those who have been or are engaged in this great undertaking – do Thou protect, and preserve them from evil . . ."

The Chicago Water Works, 1943, now on Michigan Avenue
(churckmanchiagonostalgia.files,wordpress.com)
Virtually the entire dedication was a Masonic production, complete with the consecration of the cornerstone with “vessels delivered in form to the Grand Master . . . poured upon the stone”.  These “vessels” carried a scattering of corn and a flask of wine as emblems of plenty along with oil as an emblem of peace.

The Most Worshipful Grand Master Gorin then intoned, “May the all bounteous author of Nature bless the inhabitants of this place with all the necessaries, conveniences and comforts of life; assist in the erection and completion of this building; protect the workmen against every accident, and even preserve this structure from decay; and grant to us all, in needed supply, the corn of nourishment, the wine of refreshment and the oil of joy.”

At this point the stone was “thrice stricken with the mallet” and the Masonic ceremony concluded.

Then Mayor J. B. Rice got up to end the ceremony with a few remarks which went on and on and on.

Midway through his remarks he hit his stride . . .

. . . but the people were not satisfied with delay.  They could stand on the shore in the centre of the city and look upon the clear sparkling, pure water of yonder mighty lake, the coveted treasure so near – and they cried with one voice, who is the man who can give us this water for our use; the cry was heard; the man was there who, with the modesty that is ever the companion of genius, said he thought a tunnel might be built far under the bed of the lake – two miles in length – and there where the water was thirty-five feet in depth, pure and cool in all seasons, the supply could be obtained . . . It was novel, untried; the expense hardly to be estimated, and failure imminent; but the man of science was not to be moved from his position. 

Ellis Sylvester Chesebrough would not be moved from his position.  The clear sparkling, pure water of yonder mighty lake is still the lifeblood of a great city.  And the water tower still stands, a technological marvel of its time and an enduring symbol of a city that is willing to play the odds if there is the slightest chance for a big payoff.

The Chicago Water Works, 1974, with Water Tower Place
rising to the left (chuckmanchicagonostalgia.files.wordpress.com)