Much as we like (or dislike) to think that the tear down phenomenon---someone buys a perfectly nice house, demolishes it, and puts up something larger, and usually less lovely---- is an invention of the last two decades, a result of greed and pretension, it actually has ever been thus, particularly in times of prosperity.
I thought of it today as I came across these photos of a pleasant small summer cottage on a point of land near our village. Relatively small, it is a pleasant mansard roof shingled cottage built in 1886, typical of many built for the professional classes up and down the New England Coast. The owner was Professor Junius Hill, head of the music department at Wellesley College. He was part of a small music colony that sprang up around the neighborhood in the late 19th century, and that included composer Horatio Parker, head of the music department at Yale, world famed violinist Franz Kneisel, considered the father of the modern string quartet, music critic Henry Krehbiel, pianist Bertha Tapper, and around the corner, Effie Kline, owner/manager of the Boston Ideal Opera Company.
The name of Prof. Hill's architect is lost in time, but it seems likely that he had plans drawn up by one or another of the good architects practicing around Boston at the time. In the mid 1890's, the Hills remodeled their cottage, adding an octagonal tower in the most modern shingle style.
I've always been fascinated by this tower. A much more sophisticated work than the original house, it is architecture of a high order---note particularly the rear elevation with its secondary tower for the upper flight of the staircase, and the smooth balance of horizontal and vertical design elements. The tower's suavity and quality of detail relate closely to work being done in the area, including three here in town, at about the same time by William Ralph Emerson, the Boston architect credited with originating the shingle style.
A second possible attribution, though I'm sticking with Emerson, was George Clough, the 'Official City Architect of Boston', who was born here, and maintained a summer practice that include several summer cottages and renovations. But, frankly, his work just isn't usually as good as this tower.
I'm sorry I never got to see this cottage, but I was born 40 plus years too late. As our town's reputation as a summer colony grew, a wealthier crowd began moving in, old cottages were enlarged, and new cottages tended to be built on a larger scale. In 1912, the Hill cottage and the neighboring Rose cottage, a hip roof affair of no particular distinction, were both purchased Coburn Haskell. Haskell was married to a daughter of one of the Hanna brothers, the industrialists who dominated Cleveland business in the gilded age. Haskell himself was the inventor and with B.F. Goodrich president Bertam Work, manufacturer of the modern golf ball.
The Haskells tore down the Hill and Rose (above) cottages, erected an enormous stone and shingle cottage on the site, designed by a Cleveland architect named Howe, completed in 1913. With sixteen bedrooms, and 10 bathrooms piped for both fresh and salt water, the house was one of the largest in town, and to this day dominates the entrance to the Harbor. However expensively constructed, it is an uncomfortable design visually, with a large roof whose wide overhanging eaves are unconvincingly supported by anemic brackets below.
So, you see class, tear downs are nothing new...
For the story of a more recent tear down, and its appalling replacement, click HERE
PS: Since originally posting this, I realize from several of the comments that I didn't make clear that actually I don't find integration of the pleasant small cottage and the stylish tower particularly good---but that nevertheless, I like the tower itself very much (as well as the cottage)
Historic preservation is supposed to benefit from a poor economy but unfortunately I see a lot of teardowns down here as well. Happy September.
ReplyDeleteI've been watching a teardown and its replacement across the street from me. A small one-story home has been replaced by another one-story home that is 20-30 percent overscaled for the neighborhood. So I've discovered that it's entirely possible for single-story houses to end up as McMansions!
ReplyDeletethose brackets are small, I can barely see them, so odd! I often see photos of what existed before some of my favorite buildings here in DC and am often surprised by mixed feelings. No matter how lovely the newer buildings, often times what was torn down looked great as well. The trend to tear down a solid, beautifully designed house for a mcMansion is always heart wrenching though.
ReplyDeleteNotorious teardowns in Raleigh-however my last project-was rather teardown-was rehab. the clients donated the small cape cod to be rehabbed and the new house is pretty fab. I love the addition of that tower-like any homeowner they had to know they had hit it and were so thrilled with the new look. pgt
ReplyDeleteWell, obviously I'm doing something wrong, because I much prefer the cottage without the tower, which strikes me as clumsy and ill-proportioned. I particularly like those porches, which seem to wrap around all four sides of the house.
ReplyDelete(Do you have a picture that shows the approximate view from that site?)
Since originally posting this, I realize from several of the comments that I didn't make clear that actually I don't find integration of the pleasant small cottage and the stylish tower particularly good---but that nevertheless, I like the tower itself very much (as well as the cottage)
ReplyDeletewell I still love their tower, vive la difference. I guess it is my girlish Rapunzel side.
ReplyDeleteHaHa, and my bald boyish side loves the tower too.
ReplyDeleteIn the original mansard cottage, the height of the second story seems out of proportion, and the tower corrects this by adding even more height, and offering an additional focus. A geometrical tower, offset at an odd angle from the main house and distanced by a corridor, is a feature of many shingle-style houses.
ReplyDeleteBy the way, Hanna is still a name of importance and recognition in Cleveland. The Hanna mansion on Euclid Avenue was later the Cleveland Museum of Natural History, before it was town down for a highway.
I tried to comment from work the other day and found I could not - more, I think, to do with the university system than blogger.
ReplyDeleteHowever, my point was that I used to live in neighbourhood of ranch houses, only a few of which were small, and over the years and up to the economy crashing many were torn down and the lots filled with astonishingly ugly and bloated houses. What had been a contemporary neighbourhood became over the years and elegant, if quaint place, for a new generation. What had been good family houses were torn down for - and I use this word judiciously - crap.
This is horror story that is all to commom from Hollywood to St. Louis. Sad, but true. Thanks for the post, interesting and thoughtful.
ReplyDelete