Loving Old Houses to Death
Historic details were the original attraction that inspired brownstone pioneers to restore not only individual houses, but also entire neighborhoods. Preserving these historic artifacts for future generations seemed like the right thing to do. Photo: FabOverFifty.com
The very success of the old-house revival may be causing great harm to the historic nature of old houses themselves. That alarming situation is certainly emerging in brownstone Brooklyn, and I wonder if others are observing the same phenomenon in other parts of the U.S.
This issue came into sharp focus by activity just a few blocks from my home in Brooklyn’s Park Slope section. A young couple has just purchased an 1890s brownstone that had all of its original interior detail intact. But instead of rejoicing in its pristine Victorian elegance, the couple brought in an architect who has gutted the entire house, replacing finely detailed woodwork and plasterwork with a minimalist Modernist interior.
Many of today’s brownstone buyers love the restored neighborhoods – but want to gut their houses of interiors that often have survived intact for more than 100 years. There is little regard for architectural heritage or sense of stewardship. Photo: Design Home Interior
This is no isolated phenomenon. Throughout the “Brownstone Belt,” young buyers are “modernizing” their newly purchased historic row houses.
Here’s the kind of thing that’s happening. After paying over $1 million to buy the house, an architect is hired to remake it completely. Any vintage wainscoting and architectural millwork go into the dumpster at the curb – followed by all the lath and plasterwork.
Many gut jobs start by stripping all plaster off the common wall that separates brownstones. Aesthetics aside, this “Bare Brick Mistake” dramatically increases noise transmission between neighboring houses
All windows are replaced, enlarged or both. Some floors are removed altogether to create double-height rooms. Many, if not all, interior walls are removed, and the back masonry wall is torn out and replaced with an all-glass “window wall.” Plaster is chipped off the brick common walls to create a rustic “bare brick” look (thereby vastly increasing sound transmission to and from the neighbors). A rooftop bulkhead is added for the elevator (an essential!). The building is expanded with a rear addition to accommodate the gym, dog-grooming room, sauna and spa that are also must-haves.
Even in historic districts, just about all these actions are legal. But, to me, most of them register as cultural crimes. If a buyer wants modern amenities, why not get them in any of the hundreds of new condo buildings where these features are built in? Why destroy a historic building’s irreplaceable craftsmanship and construction materials in pursuit of today’s transitory Modernist fashions?
This insensitivity to historic interiors has roots in the very success of the brownstone revival. In the 1960s and ’70s, brownstone pioneers (I was one) bought old run-down row houses because no one else wanted them and prices were cheap. We couldn’t afford expensive makeovers, and, in the process of modest DIY renovation and restoration, we learned to love and respect the historic character of these old houses. The concept of stewardship emerged naturally.
Over several decades, this restoration activity also created pleasant, livable, human-scale neighborhoods that eventually became fashionable, and prices began to soar. As a result, most of today’s buyers who are paying seven figures for a brownstone see themselves as merely buying a desirable community – not a historic one. These young buyers have money, know what they want – and want it now. They outline their ideas for an extreme makeover to their architect before ever moving in. Very few have any concept of stewardship of historic architecture, and, indeed, once the interior is gutted, there is little worthwhile to preserve for future generations. The old building henceforth will be merely an envelope to contain a succession of makeovers in whatever fashion is current.
William Morris declared in 1889: “These old buildings do not belong to us only. They belong to our forefathers, and they will belong to our descendants unless we play them false.”
This stewardship concept has clearly not penetrated many of today’s old-house buyers in Brooklyn. Is it that way in other parts of the U.S.? Please let me know in the comments section. Thanks!
Hi
Great article – sadly, this is an issue around the world with new owners not having due respect for the heritage which they have bought. Sometimes this is ignorance but considering many would pay a premium for an older property, often it seems to be wilful disregard for what we have inherited architecturally. This can sometimes be seen in the UK even though we seem to have a greater sensitivity for preservation.
One aspect of particular concern is that many fine rooms were removed from English country houses – including panelling, floors, plaster ceilings, fireplaces etc – and shipped to the US in between 1900-1939. These rooms were sometimes sold off again before even being uncrated (see the famous Hearst sale at Gimbels in 1939-40) and so could now be anonymously in a house where the owner doesn’t realise they are looking at 400-year old panelling and might strip it out believing it to be a modern imitation. This is why it’s so important for all such changes to be monitored and recorded with the interiors carefully removed and preserved if found to be of historical significance. I wrote a post about the trade to the US following a trip to San Francisco where I found a Long Gallery from a country house had been installed as a sports bar near Pier 39: http://countryhouses.wordpress.com/2011/09/15/the-lost-rooms-the-sale-of-architectural-salvages-to-america/.
It’s a fascinating topic and one which deserves a higher profile especially as many in the US are so interested in history and interiors.
Kind regards
Matt
@Matthew Beckett
Thanks, Matt, for adding trans-Atlantic perspective. It is interesting to see this is not a new phenomenon. What may be a bit unique in my neighborhood is that most of the wealthy buyers who are stripping their houses don’t even seem to consider the historic millwork to be of any monetary value. Rather than calling the architectural salvage dealer, they are calling the trash hauler. And instead of at least getting recycled to another home, the material goes to a landfill. — Clem
I wonder if this is part of a generational shift? Maybe the younger gadget generations buying into these old neighborhoods don’t really care about craftsmanship, solidity, and detail, and merely want a soullessly-slick tech pad to match their tech gadgets (from which their eyes will never stray to appreciate interior details anyway)? Maybe fewer and fewer people care about the composition of space per se and are buying into urban amenities more for “creative class” socialization opportunities than for the appreciation of historic urban architecture/texture/detail? Those pictures seem to reinforce a generational divide: the soulless white tech pad festooned with kidult toys (like the foosball table) is clearly meant to appeal to a Hipster who will be spending most of their time outside the crib (inside Facebook will command all their attention). That Victorian interior, on the other hand, would probably not appeal to the iPhone generation, but to someone much older.
Then again, I wonder if these sterile interiors are cropping up simply because the trendy architects don’t know how to do anything different? When a brownstone buyer says they want a “radical” redo of their interior, they very well might be asking for a renovation that maintains traditional details and patterns (but still requires a major reorganization of rooms to accommodate modern lifestyles – like “open floorplan” living, which intact brownstones don’t offer). Perhaps the fashionista architects consistently interpret this as a call to bring the house back to some 1920s “machine for living” condition? I dunno, it seems like the architects that can tastefully adapt old spaces for new uses are still outnumbered by giddy cutting-edgers who are eager to raze-and-replace (who, oddly enough, also tend to brand themselves “sustainable” and “green” these days). So it’s not surprising that most renovations would be sloppy, soulless total-guts – that’s all the architects can offer! It’s not like SHoP knows how to restore wooden pilasters and wainscoting – all they want to do is “make a statement” that will make a pretty picture on a website/iPhone/arch rag!
In any case, it’s saddening to see all this tactless remodeling. You can just tell these new interiors are going to have miserably short “design lives.” The solid old brick, plaster, and hardwood in the homes of those brownstoners who aren’t foolish enough to strip out their interiors will last long after all these slick Neomodernist surfaces age poorly and fall apart (especially once glue-loving mold eats all those “high-tech” super-engineered composite materials and the rear window walls turn into energy-sucking boondoggles).
Whether you live in a small house or renaissance mansion, your house will be able to equally make a strong impact on others.
Clem,
This is Ted Henry in Selma. I regret that we have lost touch since our time together in the 80′s. Debe and I still love our 1893 house that we purchased in 1976. We have spent more money than we will ever recoop, but we feel priviledged to live in this great old house and to continue the legacy of it’s builder. I would love to have the opportunity to be in touch with you again. I have sent messages to the magazine without any response maybe this method will work.
This seems to be a sad world wide phenomenon. My husband and I have owned and restored (not renovated!) several historic homes. We now own an 1871 2nd Empire Victorian after selling an 1894 Manhattan town house. We seemed to be the only ones in Manhattan that didn’t “rip out and gut”. Most townhouses and even prewar apartments sit vacant for years with work permits pasted on the buildings. So much goes right into the debris boxes. Even the exteriors of homes are at risk. Even in landmark neighborhoods, what starts our as a remodel turns into a tear down.
I hate to say this, but I think a good part of the blame lands on the architects. By gutting, they make the project much bigger and in turn, make themselves more money. Blame also should go to the Schools of Architecture all over the world. As far as I know, Notre Dame is one of the few (if not the only one!) that even teaches a course in Classical Architecture. My own university has classes in Florence, Italy but doesn’t teach classical architecture.
The other comments here made some very good points. Once these interior features are gone, the interiors will be outdated in about 10 years and on and on and on. This is so “un-green”!
Much of this is generational. The new generation of home buyers do no appreciate antiquity. You see this with their choice of furniture: Ikea, Pottery Barn. etc. Cheap and light—-disposible. Even in England, there used to be 63 antique shops in the charming town of Stow-on-the Wold. I’ve heard there are only about 3 left.
Maybe the “worm will turn” but in the meantime, what a terrible waste!!!
It is the same, or even worse, here in southwest Florida. So many transplanted residents don’t know anything about local history, and couldn’t care less. My hometown has no protective covenants in (what’s left of) its historic district; newcomers fall in love with the charm of the old brick streets and mature tropical foliage (not to mention, walking distance to downtown shops and a beautiful harbor) — so they buy a cottage or bungalow, tear it down and build a McMansion that dwarfs its neighbors. Or, if the house is deemed large enough already, but has an “outdated” (i.e.,original) interior, chances are they will gut it, modernize it, and then “upgrade” the facade by enclosing open porches, replacing wooden sash windows with aluminum sliders and gluing on fiberglass gingerbread where none ever existed. It’s a shame.
This is the kind of thing that makes one sick. Its a fact that the right of ownership means a person can do what she/he likes with their prperty. But it makes you wonder what these people were thinking when they purchased the historic brownstone. Why don’t they just buy a condo inone of the modern condo buildings and leave the historic properties alone? What is worse is that after they buy in they don’t want to pay for assessments that are necessary to maintain the historic roofs, facades, windows, etc.
I have seen this kind of thing happen here at our condominium. We are in a 100+ year old National Registry Listed open court yard building. At the time of conversion to condominum form of ownership in 1977 the initial purchasurers all bought with the idea of retaining the original wood work etc. However, with the passage of time, new owners have come in a gutted out their units. Most want glitzy new hi-tech kitchens and bathrooms. That makes sense but why do they tear out the origianl wood trim, built – in oak butler pantires and beamed ceilings? It makes me sick to see 2″ thick oak doors. mahogony trime and REAL subway tile walls in the dumpster.
We’ve got some of that going on here in Philly, but for the most part people here keep their homes pretty true to original. And we have a good store of modern homes so people who want that, tend to just buy a modern house (with the tax break that goes with new development) and leave the historic homes to people who are into old inside, and out. I find that homes that pre-date 1830 are fairly safe. Personally, I think it’s better to have someone love a house, keep the facade consistant, even if they do something odd to the inside, instead of having the home fall into disrepair or a total rehab including something really out of whack on the facade.
Oh, just an additional note. I live on a mixed block with 250 years of architecture represented. I absolutely love my 1800ish (give or take) Federal row house and have tried to keep it fairly true to original except I really love electricity and indoor plumbing, and if it didn’t have an extension, we wouldn’t have room for everyone. And, having large windows in the back really let light in. Just another perspective. If people are throwing away awesome original stuff, look at it as an opportunity to dumpster dive for goodies for your own house.
I have rescued a lot of four panel doors out of dumpsters in my neighborhood and lectured anyone who will listen about the quality of the materials in a period interior. My house had been stripped of them, I had to spend years trying to recreate these things. If don’t want the door/commode/bathtub at least recycle it or sell it to a salvage yard so someone restoring a house can use it.
I like a lot of different eras of design and I think there are some beautiful contemporary interiors being done now, but frankly I just don’t understand why anyone would spend a gazillion dollars on a beautiful period home and then try to turn it in to something else. If you don’t like the style of the house don’t buy it. There are plenty of unremarkable boxes out there that would better support a good modern makeover.
Our 1887 working-man’s Victorian in Saratoga Springs, NY was thankfully for the most part intact when we purchased it years ago. Thanks to Yankee inertia and the influence of preservation-minded folks back in the 1970′s and ’80s, most old homes in the area that we’ve visited have either been preserved or restored. I recall the heroic efforts of one woman and her husband who tracked down the original mantle of their house to another house in the area, such is the premium placed on originality.
Some homes have been “improved” – our own had two smaller upstairs bedrooms combined into a large room, and the sides of its wrap-around front porch stripped off in the 1940′s and early 1990′s – out of ignorance or necessity; under “necessity” was the local Milligan Mansion which was a sad set of walls about to cave in before its new owners completely rebuilt the place, able to at least restore the building’s exterior appearance from historic photographs.
We’ve had Historic Preservation and Historic Review areas in town for quite some time now. The pervading meme of historic preservation seems to have provided strong guidance to local homeowners. The new local condos and mixed-use monsters would have benefited from more thoughtful architecture, but overall both townies and newbies seem to be restoration-minded on the whole. The new single-residence housing developments in the city also strive to reflect at least the exterior character of local 1920′s-and-earlier homes: That is, after all, a strong selling point for these pricey units.
You should see what people do to the few remaining historic houses and shophouses here in Singapore. There is very little concept of preserving the past. I went to a dinner party soon after moving here, and tried to strike up a conversation with two local architects about the preservation work my husband and I had done in the US (including in brownstone Brooklyn), and one architect said to me, “Why fix something old?” and then turned away.
Luckily, I have learned that the past can be re-built. These old houses are wonderful learning tools. Once you learn their lessons, you can apply that knowledge to re-creating traditional designs. Just because the brownstone down the block was stripped bare by neauveau riche passers-through doesn’t mean that someone can’t later come back and install new multi-piece door casings and hand-run plaster moldings. I’ve seen it, and I’ve done it.