Architecture and Shape: Arches

St. Louis is filled with a variety of architectural styles and shapes. I never fail to be amazed by the many glimpses of beauty I am treated to throughout downtown alone on a regular basis.

Downtown, of course, is home to the granddaddy of all arches, the symbol that, to many people, the city is synonymous with: the Arch. Well, yes. There is that.
After all, 630 feet of gleaming stainless (in both height and width) is a little hard to miss. But long before THE Arch and even long before its designer, Eero Saarinen, were thought of, St. Louis was awash in arches.

Let me show you what I mean.

First stop: Eads Bridge. Predates the Arch by almost a century. Have to think Saarinen found some inspiration here ...

At the corner of Sixth of Washington, is 555 Washington. This is one of the oldest extant buildings downtown (c.1870-ish). And, it is also full of arches.

Likewise a block away at the Missouri Athletic Club where the marquee and first-floor windows make my point.From there, just look across the street to the Roberts Vista. (The J. Kennard Carpet Co. building.) There's more of those arches!

In fact, the arches cover this building from top to bottom. This building is an early illustration of how the detail of an arch can break up an otherwise towering building of squares and rectangles.


Go a few blocks back down Fourth Street, toward the heart of downtown, and head up Pine until you hit Broadway. There you will find the two-towered Marquette Building.


Built in 1913, it was already a half-century old when they started building the Arch! More proof that the shape has dominated St. Louis architecture for more than a century.


If you have a certain view like some people do (oh, like maybe ME!) you can see that it, too, is topped off with arches.

Go down any block in downtown, any of them.

I defy you to make it all the way down a single street without being able to spot at least one arch. And, I'd even be willing to bet that you could spot a whole lot more than just one.

Even though downtown's modern architecture bent has been more focused on triangles and cubes, I guarantee that you will still find arches neatly tucked away somewhere.


The ultra-modern 600 Washington, which takes up a good chunk of Sixth Street, and is a study in cubist construction can't help but get in on the act.


So the next time you're surrounded by skyscrapers, (especially if you're in St. Louis) look up and look around. See any arches?


I'll bet you do.

A Modern Take on a Historical Building

I love and adore the Arcade Building (8th and Olive) across from the Old Post Office.

After financing fell through on a development deal, it’s just been languishing for years. There was talk of it being torn down. (NO! Absolutely friggin’ not, people!)

Recently though, someone boarded up the uppermost windows which had been almost completely exposed when the plastic that had been covering them deteriorated. I took that as a good sign.

Then, several weeks ago, I noticed these canvases being put into place. I took that as an even better sign. I think they are awesomely cool. Some of the arches, which really are part of the space they are covering, are part of the canvas. On a few others, they’ve left the real arches exposed and fit the canvas neatly inside the arch.

They’re cooler still considering that the pictures inside the arch shapes feature architectural features from other buildings. I recognize three.

One is from the Railway Exchange Building. Why is it familiar? I have a similar photo (that I took) on the wall in my office!


Another is from the American Theater. Again, I recognized it from my own photos of the theater ...

And, the most recognizable, is from the Wainwright Building.

This is one of the ones where they tucked the canvas beneath the actual arch of the entryway/window instead of including a fake version in the canvas. I like the Wainwright well enough. But I much prefer some of Louis Sullivan's other works, especially his other existing St. Louis skyscraper, the Union Trust building. (Yes, I know. Call it sacrilege, but I think they should have torn down the Wainwright instead of the Buder or Title Guaranty buildings.) Even so, I'm glad they didn't and one of that infamous trio survived.

Sullivan supposedly was a mentor to Frank Lloyd Wright, though I fail to see much of his influence in Wright's work. Sorry. Again with the sacrilege ... Wright reportedly called the Wainwright Building "the very first human expression of a tall steel office-building as Architecture."

Well, maybe.

In Praise of Austin P. Leland

If we tear everything down, how will our children and future generations know what America was like? If everything is a glass tower, how will they know our heritage? – Austin P. Leland (1907-1975)

I think I shuddered as I read that quote on a wall a few days ago. The words affected me that profoundly. You see, I didn’t know Austin P. Leland. In fact, I didn't even know who he was before this week.

Shame on me.

Leland was a longtime director of the Landmarks Association of St. Louis, and in the 1960s he led the fight to save St. Louis' Old Post Office building from demolition. He also was a trustee of the National Trust for Historic Preservation and of the Jefferson National Expansion Memorial.

Since 1978, Princeton University has issued The Austin P. Leland Award annually to recognize “general excellence in regional alumni activities to associations and clubs with more than 300 members.”

In my defense, when he launched a major offensive in 1964 to save the Old Post Office from the wrecking ball, I hadn’t even been conceived. When he died, I was just 9. While I didn’t know anything about the battle he helped wage to save that historic structure, I did get to witness the fruits of his labor. I saw the first phases of its redevelopment take place in the early 1980s, work that would be completed in 1984 – just in time for this glorious building’s centennial.

Speaking as one of the “future generations” that Leland alluded to in that now immortalized quote of his, we owe a debt of gratitude for keeping slices of America (or at least St. Louis’ portion of it) intact, for preserving our local heritage. Albeit belated, "Thank you, Mr. Leland."

While it’s been almost 46 years since this editorial page comic was published, as part of the argument to protect the Old Post Office, I think its message is just as valid now as ever.

It's a pretty apt depiction. I’m sick sometimes when I think of how much history and breathtaking architecture was lost in the name of the tornado that is “progress.” At least this was one piece that was spared -- because someone was brave enough and determined enough to stand up and say, "ABSOLUTELY NOT!"

No, I didn’t know Austin P. Leland – I only wish that I had.

Stay tuned for a lengthy and visual report on the historic structure his efforts left standing …

Washed Ashore

The weather has been SO glorious this week. I wish it would stay this way year-round. I’ve been trying to make the most of it. Every day at lunch, I’ve been going for a walk.

I’ve gone to find Lewis and Clark each day and I’ve chosen a historic building or two to try and take some shots of for future posts and to just play with some interesting angles and light. Yesterday was no exception. I walked down to the Landing to visit the resident explorers. Here’s the latest. (Sorry if you’re getting sick of seeing these photos.)

Pretty soon their boat will look like it’s actually floating on the river instead of sinking into it! That’s the picture I want.

I also spied where some of the cobblestone walkway (often used for parking) has now emerged from the river. The river fell about 4 more feet on Wednesday.

While still damp, this section remains intact.

This one, however, seems to have taken a beating.
(I like this photo. It has a lot of colors and textures in it, with a dash of light and shadow thrown in for good measure.) Kind of funny how the cobblestones just congregated there.

I’m enjoying my little daily sojourns, but I think I’m becoming architecturally obsessed. I notice all kinds of buildings and all kinds of features on these buildings (some of which I’ve seen a thousand times in my life) that I never noticed before. (Background music: KT Tunstall’s “Suddenly I See.”) I was talking about this with my bus mother who asked: “So why didn’t you become an architect?”

An architect? Now there’s a job choice I readily admit that had never occurred to me. There’s probably a good reason. Beyond basic math, which I’m surprisingly good at for a writer, my mathematical skills suck. And when measurements aren’t precise, angles don’t quite align, and other important calculations go awry, buildings fall down. People get hurt or die.

Um, yeah. Really good reasons. I think I’ll stick to documenting the showpieces of some of the masters. I have a whole new level of appreciation for their work.

History Lost: The Buder Building

You might recall my few posts highlighting the gorgeous architecture in downtown St. Louis. I’ve got several more installments planned or under way.

However, I think it’s important to also note that much was lost to the wrecking ball during the late 1970s and early 1980s. For a while, it was almost as if St. Louis was on a targeted path to destroy its historic heritage and rightful place as an architectural gatekeeper. Unfortunately, there was another strong dose of this destructive activity in the 1990s and a quick shot even in recent years that took out two more historic goliaths.

So, I’ve decided to also share information (and photos where I can find them) of some of the history that was made in centuries past lost in recent decades. So I’ll occasionally be doing another feature: History Lost. I’m going to start with the Buder Building. You can see it above in a 1910 postcard, and shortly before it was demolished in 1984.

I never even knew what it was called. Sadly, when I embarked on this little journey, I didn't even realize which building it was until I pulled up that photo from 1984. Oh yeah. The building where KFC was.

How sad is that? God, I wish I had paid more attention.

At the turn of the 20th century and in the decade that followed, downtown’s Seventh Street between Market and Locust was a collection of huge, monumental – by that time’s standards—skyscrapers.

Constructed for approximately $600,000, the 13-story Buder opened in 1902 as the Missouri Pacific Building. It officially completed the city 1890s development plan for the west side of Seventh Street. Faced in light buff brick, the Buder was embellished with white terra cotta at the two story base and two story capital and around the windows in the eight story shaft.

It exhibited the richest and most extensive use of Beaux Arts/Renaissance Revival terra cotta ornament in the city. If the outside was regal and lavish, no expense was spared inside either as this 2002 blog entry featuring an interview with Bruce Gerrie, curator of the first major exhibit of antique doorknobs in the United States.

“The emblematic doorknobs were often the owner's signature. For instance, when the Missouri Pacific building was built in St. Louis, its doorknobs had MP molded into them. When the building was purchased by Gary Buder, he renamed the building the Buder Building, and installed doorknobs with BB on them.”

Under much protest, it was leveled in August 1984 to make room for “green space” as part of the Gateway Mall project.

Now, I’m as much a fan of parks and open green lots as the next person, but not at the expense of one of a city’s historic architectural gems.

When I saw this photo recently, it almost moved me to tears.

Look at all that grandeur and beauty – fragmented and in a heap – treated like so much trash. (This was some of the rubble after they imploded it.) Thankfully, I also found this photo which shows workmen salvaging the angels (below) that can be seen in the shot of the building’s main entrance at far right.
I think progress is a wonderful thing but it should never trump our heritage. You can always build a new building. You can never replace one built a century or more before.

It reminds me of something I heard my grandmother say more than once: "Forget where you came from and you might never figure out where you're going ."

Don't worry, Gram. I won't forget.