Sunday, January 28, 2024

A Splendid Torch: Henry Mercer’s Historical Connections (Part 1)

Fonthill, the home of Henry Chapman Mercer, Doylestown, Pennsylvania (photo by Concord - Own work, CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=40253187)

The following is the first of two posts devoted to a lengthy passage from Bill Kleinsassers 1981 edition of his self-published textbook, SYNTHESIS. His fascination with the work and interests of Henry Chapman Mercer is perhaps no more evident than in this reading. Like Mercer, Bill disdained the downsides of modernization and industrialization upon design and construction, particularly the primacy of standardization and the loss of rich diversity associated with many historical buildings. Like other followers of the Arts and Crafts movement, Mercer sought to extol the virtues of vernacular architecture, patterns inspired by nature, and the work of the craftsman-designer; however, what sets Mercer apart is the extent to which legend, literature, Americana, and archaeology influenced his approach to architecture.
 
Henry Mercer’s three major building designs—Fonthill Castle, the Mercer Museum, and the Moravian Pottery and Tile Works—are peculiar and idiosyncratic, but they are also distinctive, evocative, and highly personal. In this regard, it’s not surprising Bill would be fascinated by their appearance, the lessons to be learned from them, and their eccentric author.
 
Part 1:  Imagery of Many Times and Many Places
Henry Mercer believed in knowledge as a means of establishing historical connections. He often repeated the verse:
 
Happy the man who sees in things
Their causes gone before
All fear he spurns beneath his feet
Nor dreads inexorable fate
And Acheron’s hungry roar.
 
Mercer knew and respected what had existed before. Not only was he a great student of his place, but also an active archaeologist and ethnologist for many years before he built his buildings. His Museum extended and expanded an earlier one. Fonthill gave new life to the colonial farmhouse it joined. The Tileworks made possible the preservation and development of the art of the Pennsylvania German potters. The Museum contained thousands of artifacts that portray history from the standpoint of toil by human hands, and on its grounds Mercer reconstructed a pioneer log cabin so that its eloquent example would not be lost. Fonthill preserves and displays native trees and plants, and contains another colonial farmhouse, repaired and given to the local nature club to be used. His buildings look old and feel old. They contain many old things, and they evoke old forms and old places. Made on the strength of knowledge and respect, they continue the past rather than destroy it.
 
Mercer was devoted to the study of all manifestations of life, and he argued that:

We are here to protect humanity from mistakes, and if we do nothing better, we thoroughly justify our existence:  research, discovery, investigation, and longing to open a new door and to find out something never known before. What a burning fire it is and how it seizes upon us. I do hope that some of you have this fire lit within you. If so, add fuel, get hold of the splendid torch of knowledge and wave it about.”
 
Moravian Pottery & Tile Works, Doylestown, Pennsylvania, by Henry Mercer (photo by Bestbudbrian, CC BY-SA 3.0 <https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0>, via Wikimedia Commons)

Mercer’s historical awareness was an inspiration and a great source of ideas. Consequently, his buildings have a kinship with many places and different lives. Drawings and notations in his notebooks, written descriptions from his stories and papers, and photographs and drawings from his library all confirm that much of the character of his buildings resulted from images, first recalled and then carefully developed, from his travels and studies. These images include dimensions of spaces and small details, special qualities and entire places, places known only by literary descriptions, places real, and places imaginary. In The Building of Fonthill, Mercer wrote that:  
 
“The plan of the whole house was an interweaving of my own fancies blending with memories of my travels and suggestions from several engravings, in particular The Dutch Houskeeper by Gerard Dow, The Great Barn by Wovermans, and a lithograph now in my morning room, also a woodcut illustrating a story called Haunted in a book published about 1865 by Tinsleys magazine named A Stable for Nightmares. This picture gives me the night lighting of the morning room. The first interior imagined and clearly seen was that of the west side of the saloon seen when standing near the large window about eight feet from the door to the library. The arrangement of the rooms at different levels seen over the gallery in the saloon is a memory of a Turkish house seen by me from a rear garden in Salonica in 1886.”
 
Mercer did not write directly again of the inspiration of images and memories, but their importance is strongly suggested by mention in his notebooks, writings, and travel photographs of many places, imaginary and real. Included among these are:
  • The cave temples of Ellora and Elephants in India.
  • The sunken city of Epidaurus near the Pelloponesus.
  • The home of Carabas (in The Book of Fools by Thackery).
  • The chapels of San Luis Rey, San Juan Capistrano, and San Miguel in California (which reappear in the elements and shape of the Tileworks.
  • The imaginary cities of Avalon, Antiglia, Montezuma, Huitzilo-Pochtli, and Manoa (in the tiles of Fonthill).
  • Several caves of France and the southern United States.
Two years before his death in 1930, Henry Mercer wrote seven strange short stories described as “tales of wonder, in which the inexplicable is made to seem the probable, beyond heaven and earth, whose imaginative settings seemed to have appealed to his fancy as much as the threads upon which they are strung.” These seven stories reveal much about Mercer: his interest in coincidence and coincidental experience, his interest in crime, misfortune, pestilence; his interest in legends and the supernatural.

Burg Vichtenstein, a 12th century castle in Austria (photo by C.Stadler/Bwag, CC BY-SA 4.0 <https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0>, via Wikimedia Commons)

Castles
They (Mercer's stories) also contain repeated references to important memories and images, especially castles. In the story Castle Valley, Mercer recalls the often-told Bucks County legend of James Meredith, who tried to build a castle overlooking Castle Valley, failed in the attempt, and went mad. It is said that some of the castle stones are still in the foundation of a nearby bridge, which itself has long been a ruin. Henry Mercer was in fact a relative of the legendary James Meredith, and as Joseph Sandford writes in Mercer as Seen in His Fiction, “. . . we may wonder how much the family tradition may have contributed to the building of Fonthill and the Museum, or whether its architect has ever toyed with the idea of placing it on that hilltop overlooking the Neshaminy. It needs such a setting, but the hard practicality which had permitted its builder to dare without destruction must have forbidden it. Yet we cannot help but feel that in his successful accomplishment he has built a memorial to the vision of his thwarted kinsman.”
 
Here are Mercer’s words from Castle Valley (the first speaker is the character, Charles Meredith, representing Mercer himself):

“Very delightful,” I said, “but I don’t quite understand. You have idealized things, not too much perhaps, but why the castle on the hill? Isn’t that going a little too far?

“I expected you to say that” he returned, laughing.

“The legend,” I continued, “is somewhat vague and hardly justifies you in deliberately putting it on canvas.”

“What legend?” he asked. “I know of no legend.”

“Do you mean to say,” I returned, “that you have painted a castle on that hill, without knowing that there was a castle there at one time, or the beginning of one, at least?”

“Never heard a word of it,” said he in astonishment.

“Why, the place is called Castle Valley,” I exclaimed, “from that fact, and I ought to know something of it, as the builder is supposed to be one of my ancestors. But it’s all gone long ago, the stones were used to build the bridge yonder.”

Pryor listened in surprise as I went on to explain that my ancestor in question, according to family tradition, had been in some way thwarted in the singular project of building a castle on the hill before us. Whether because of the hostility of his father and friends, or his own mental derangement, his architectural dream had never been realized. The walls had hardly risen above their foundations when the poor fellow died.

“I always felt very sorry for this,” I added. “But it is one of hose unfortunate memories that lose their tragedy and blend into folklore as time goes on. What strikes me as very remarkable though is the fact that you should be ignorant of the castle story and yet paint the castle one hundred and fifty years later. The castle became an ideal that we hold on to, in spite of the Devil and all his angels.”

“Just as I thought it was from the first, without knowing why.“ said Pryor.

“Now that the stone is gone, it is fortunate that I have seen your castle, thunderstorm included,” I continued, “or I should never have known what you were talking about. So much for hypnotism. But how wonderful, how astonishing it is, merely as a picture! Don’t you think so? Those unearthly pinnacles that pierce the clouds! If I were a painter, as you are, and saw a thing like that, I would feel that I had got hold of my ladder of fortune and only need to climb up, up, up.”

“But the ladder is yours as well as mine.”

“Why” I am not the painter, and never could be.”

“What are you?”

I got up, seized his hand, and looked deep into his glowing eyes. “I didn’t know, till just now,” said I. “I thought I was a politician. But I have decided that I am an architect!”
 
Though without the same ecstasy, castle imagery appears again and again in Mercer’s notes and records of travels. He photographed many real castles in France, Germany, and Austria; he drew them floating in the air and emerging half-hidden from forests. He collected etchings and engravings of them, and he wrote of them in several other short stories. He was also most interested in hose buildings bearing the greatest resemblance to castles: factories, coal breakers, grain elevators, blast furnaces, and, at least in form, skyscrapers. (WK/1981)

To be continued . . .

*    *    *    *    *    *

Next:  Part 2: Layering, Light, Caves

 

Sunday, January 21, 2024

Eugene/Architecture/Alphabet: Q

Quackenbush Building (my photo)

This is the next in my Eugene/Architecture/Alphabet series of blog posts, the focus of each being a landmark building here in Eugene. Many of these will be familiar to most who live here but there are likely to be a few buildings that are less so. My selection criteria for each will be threefold:
  1. The building must be of architectural interest, local importance, or historically significant.
  2. The building must be extant so you or I can visit it in person.
  3. Each building’s name will begin with a particular letter of the alphabet, and I must select one (and only one) for each of the twenty-six letters. This is easier said than done for some letters, whereas for other characters there is a surfeit of worthy candidates (so I’ll be discriminating and explain my choice in those instances).
This entry’s selection begins with the letter Q, for which my choice is the Quackenbush Building.
 
Quackenbush Building
Located at 160 E. Broadway in downtown Eugene, the Quackenbush Building stands as an all too rare surviving example of the city’s early 20th century commercial architecture.
 
J. W. Quackenbush opened his hardware store in the building soon after its construction in 1902. Initially, the establishment primarily catered to the agricultural community, offering farm implements, hardware, and horse-drawn vehicles. By the 1930s and 1940s, the store diversified its offerings, emphasizing dinnerware and gift items as hardware sales declined. Quackenbush’s uniqueness lay not just in its products but in the personalized service it offered, a stark contrast to the rise of impersonal discount stores. Despite challenges in the face of big-box retailers and shopping centers, it remained a community institution, known for its family atmosphere and traditional charm. It was a beloved fixture in the community right up until its closure in 1980, holding the distinction of being Eugene’s longest-running family business in a single location.
 
Quackenbush Hardware Store, circa 1940 (photographer unknown; source National Park Service.gov)

Since the store’s closing, the building—still associated with the Quackenbush name—has been home to a succession of businesses. Today, its tenants include J. Michaels Books, Porterhouse Clothing & Supply, Sterner Stuff, ArtCity Studios on Broadway, and Cameron McCarthy Landscape Architecture & Planning.
 
Because I have reasons to conduct business there and my office is next door in the 1920s vintage Miner Building, I am quite familiar with the Quackenbush Building. I have always thought of it as a charming blend of history and architecture. I’ve spent plenty of time both inside and out, whether in meetings with Cameron McCarthy, perusing the shelves of J. Michaels, or window shopping from the sidewalk.
 
Constructed in the so-called “Commercial Style,” with red brick in a stretcher bond, the 2-story tall north-facing façade on Broadway boasts ribbon windows on the upper story and large display windows on the lower level. Two-foot-high brick walls sit beneath the display windows, which replaced original wooden panels. Overall, the Quackenbush Building’s well-preserved original design is architecturally simple in form but skillfully executed. Later additions on the building’s south side facing the mid-block alley are nondescript concrete block construction possessed of far less distinction.
 
Upper floor of the Quackenbush Building, home to Cameron McCarthy Landscape Architecture & Planning (photo by Visitor7, CC BY-SA 3.0 <https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0>, via Wikimedia Commons)

Even today, walking into the Quackenbush building is like stepping back in time. Despite the subdivision of its first-floor level to suit the needs of its current tenants, the store’s original spacious interior layout is evident. This is even more so within Cameron McCarthy’s second-floor office, which encompasses the entirety of that level. The original exposed wooden posts adorned with simple capitals, tongue & groove paneling, and built-in cabinets highlight the store's enduring design. Studying photographs of the old store during its heyday, it is apparent how much of its original character lives on.
 
One notable feature is the rare, intact money-carrying apparatus, once a common sight in department stores. The apparatus, with wires extending from the basement to the mezzanine level, recalls a bygone era when intricate systems for transferring money within the store complemented cash registers.
 
Due to its historic significance and architectural quality, the Quackenbush Building is listed on the National Register of Historic Places. Interestingly, I could find no record of its original designer, nor who built it. My information sources for this blog post include the building’s Wikipedia entry, the Eugene Cultural Resource Inventory, and the National Register of Historic Places Inventory nomination form, none of which list the architect or builder.  

Commemorative plaque on the Quackenbush Building (photo by Visitor7, CC BY-SA 3.0 <https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0>, via Wikimedia Commons).

In 1969, facing urban renewal condemnation, the store garnered support from the community. Unthank Seder Poticha Architects accordingly determined the Quackenbush Building could be upgraded to comply with then current building codes without adversely altering its character; it was subsequently renovated in 1971. The old building became not just a relic of the past but a resilient symbol of community spirit.
 
I’m glad citizens rallied to save the Quackenbush Building from the wrecking ball. Along with its neighbors, the Miner Building and the Eugene Hotel, the Quackenbush Building provides us with a glimpse of what Eugene’s central commercial district looked like before the urban “renewal” of the 1960s and 70s irreparably transformed the character of the city’s downtown.

Sunday, January 14, 2024

Architecture is Awesome: #35 Problem Solving


This is another in my series of posts inspired by 1000 Awesome Things, the Webby Award-winning blog written by Neil Pasricha. The series is my meditation on the awesome reasons why I was and continue to be attracted to the art of architecture.

At its core, architecture is about problem-solving. In the process of solving specific design problems, architects overcome challenges, innovate, and bring visions to life. With each project, they must understand their client’s needs, contextualize the project within its environment, and identify constraints before embarking on a journey of creative exploration.

Defining the problem often involves extensive research. For example, architects will exhaustively study the subject site, investigating its history, topography, regulatory framework, and cultural context. They will also analyze the functional requirements in detail, considering factors such as spatial organization, patterns of circulation, accessibility, desired adjacencies, and more. Budget limitations add a significant layer of complexity. Defining the problem sets the stage for problem-solving, as architects must first appreciate this breadth of concerns before reliably being able to formulate a cohesive design solution.

Fundamentally, every project has its own set of constraints. However, it is within these that architects find opportunities for ingenuity. Instead of viewing them as roadblocks, architects see constraints as parameters that fuel creativity. Limited resources may inspire the innovative use of materials, while zoning restrictions can lead to unique spatial configurations. Navigating these constraints requires a deep understanding of the entirety of the project's context and a willingness to embrace challenges as catalysts for innovation.

Once the design problem is adequately defined, the fun begins. The process of design involves brainstorming, sketching, and experimenting with different ideas. Experienced architects push the boundaries of conventional thinking in pursuit of the best solutions, often seeking inspiration from diverse sources, such as nature, art, and technology. By drawing parallels between unrelated concepts, they address aesthetic and functional aspects through innovative means.

Most often, the key to solving the design problem requires striking a balance between form and function. A visually stunning building loses its significance if it fails to meet the practical needs of its users. Conversely, a highly functional space may lack the aesthetic appeal that elevates it to a work of art. Architects must find harmony between the functional requirements of the space and the emotional experience it evokes. They do this by means of thoughtful design decisions, material choices, and spatial arrangements that cater to both the pragmatic and sensory aspects of architecture.

The ability to think outside the box is a hallmark of architectural problem-solving. Exploration does not occur along a linear path but rather resembles a dynamic dance of ideas that evolve and adapt. Problem-solving is also iterative. Through each iteration, architects assess the impact of their design decisions on the overall vision. They consider feedback from clients, engineers, and other stakeholders, refining the design to address concerns and optimize outcomes. This flexibility and openness to refinement are integral to the success of any architectural project. The iterative approach stirs continuous improvement, ensuring that the final solution is a well-crafted response to the design problem.

Architects find immense satisfaction in the process of problem-solving. That satisfaction is multifaceted. It arises from the fusion of creativity, analytical thinking, and the profound impact their designs have on the built environment. The AWESOME art of architectural problem-solving is an utterly unique and deeply rewarding aspect of the profession. It encompasses the joy of creativity, the thrill of overcoming challenges, and the impacts on the lives of others. There are few accomplishments more fulfilling than the process of transforming design problems into lasting, meaningful, and successful works of architecture.

Next Architecture is Awesome:  #36 Architectural Oddities

Sunday, January 7, 2024

LCC Health Professions Building

Sunrise over the Lane Community College campus.

I have enjoyed the opportunity to work on a variety of significant projects throughout my career. The latest is the new Health Professions Building (HPB) for Lane Community College. Now under construction, it has proven to be one of the most rewarding assignments I have ever had the pleasure to be involved with.

Lane County voters passed a general obligation bond in May 2020 to fund the project, as well as an assortment of campus-wide improvements addressing classroom needs, safety and accessibility deficiencies, workforce retraining, and Career Technical Education. The HPB will provide space for the college’s Dental Assisting and Dental Hygiene programs, Medical Assistant program, and Emergency Medical Technician program, in addition to the administrative offices for the Health Professions Division. Beyond providing the programs with state-of-the-art teaching facilities, the key project goals include prominently showcasing the LCC health & wellness community and improving visual and physical connections with the overall campus.

My office, Robertson/Sherwood/Architects pc (RSA) teamed with our frequent collaborators at Mahlum Architects to secure the project. RSA is serving the role of executive architect/architect-of-record, providing project oversight, technical expertise, and leadership to ensure an integrated project process, while Mahlum provided the design muscle. As with our previous collaborations, the split of project duties and our associated fees shifted from greater involvement by Mahlum during programming, Conceptual Design, and Schematic Design, through a more equal division of labor during Design Development and Construction Documents, to heavier responsibilities for RSA during the permitting and Construction Contract Administration phases. For all intents and purposes, we have functioned as a single office on the Health Professions Building project rather than as two separate firms.

Our team additionally includes the following consultants:
The first phase of the project involved site selection, extensive stakeholder engagement, confirmation of the functional program, and conceptual design. LCC formed a Steering Committee—comprised of college and Health Professions Division administrators and Facilities & Maintenance staff—to function as the decision makers. The entire project team developed a mission statement, which reads as follows:

“The new Health Professions Building will be a center for excellence, supporting Lane County in the responsible stewardship of our investment to co-locate critical applied learning programs, to train the health professionals of tomorrow, and to center equity and inclusion as a core value in the process.”

A touchstone throughout this initial phase was LCC’s metrics for success. These metrics were:
  • The degree to which the new building succeeds as a tool for teaching and learning.
  • Whether the project effectively reflects LCC’s core values.
  • The project’s visibility and accessibility; and
  • Whether the community’s bond dollars were spent efficiently and wisely.
Campus map showing the various sites considered during the site selection process.

The site selection process proved eye-opening. We studied several candidate sites, but the Steering Committee ultimately chose one that wasn’t initially on anyone’s radar screen. While more challenging to work with than the others, Site N.3 (as we dubbed it) offered the potential of being “transformational” for LCC. Its potential as a highly visible and symbolic gateway on the north side of the core campus, while providing clear circulation and visual connections to it, proved most compelling. Constructing the building there would reinforce and more clearly reveal the existing campus open space framework. Site N.3’s limitations (which included its constrained area, narrow proportions, and web of existing buried utilities) were not so onerous as to outweigh its considerable promise.

Mahlum’s resultant design concept is largely shaped by the selection of Site N.3. Circulation to and through the building from all directions is a primary form-giver, with both north- and south-facing main entry porches linked by a central lobby. The scale of the north porch is grand, a two-story tall portico providing a vast canvas for a future mural that will be prominently visible from 30th Avenue. The south entrance leads to a new campus plaza and a soon-to-be-installed pedestrian bridge connecting to Bristow Square in the heart of the campus.

Rendering of the north-facing elevation. Note the proposed mural within the portico.

The second phase of design developed this concept in detail. Our team went to great lengths to optimize the program areas, while being attentive to budget limitations exacerbated by cost escalation within the construction industry (the project’s current Guaranteed Maximum Price is $26,588,920). We organized the building’s layout, structural system, and exterior expression in accordance with the 40' grid that overlays the entire campus, an artifact of the mid-century planning principles that governed its initial form. Mahlum further broke the 40' grid down to three sections of 13’-4”. This smaller module presents a more human-centered scale, further subdivided into 4' segments that better align with typical building product dimensions and construction practices. The overall design effect is at once unique but also consonant with the new building’s campus neighbors.


Inside, the design further emphasizes connections and crossovers between the Dental Assistant, Dental Hygiene, Medical Assistant, and EMT programs, which are arrayed across 31,280 square feet on three floors. Space for breakout groups and chance interactions between students will be available throughout the building. The second phase of the design process afforded the Steering Committee the opportunity to reassess and refine programmatic needs considering budget factors, departmental relationships, scale, and the appropriate sizing of spaces.


LCC set a goal of LEED certification at the Gold level, utilizing design strategies that are practical, cost-effective, and low maintenance. Toward this end, our design emphasizes indoor air quality and thermal comfort, optimizes use of materials with limited life-cycle impacts, takes advantage of daylight and quality views, and maximizes energy performance. The HVAC design consists of a Dedicated Outside Air System (DOAS) with energy recovery and fan-coil units for zone heating and cooling. Interface Engineering used computer software to model the performance of the mechanical system, which is projected to provide annual energy savings of 22 percent compared to a comparable multi-zone variable air volume system. Overall, the project is on track to achieve LEED Gold certification.

Rendering of the proposed multipurpose classroom.

Rendering of the future dental clinic.

Fortis Construction is the Construction Manager/General Contractor (CM/GC) for the project. From the outset of their involvement at the beginning of Phase 2, the company provided invaluable cost estimating, value engineering, constructability review, and design coordination assistance. They’ve been tremendous and exemplary team members; I cannot commend them highly enough. Their technical savvy is second to none: Fortis exploits the benefits of digital coordination and collaboration tools, including clash detection software, reality capture on the construction jobsite, and customizable markup, measurement, and document management processes.

Construction progress - December 2023 

Thanks to Fortis’ diligence, the HPB is on schedule for completion in May of this year, coinciding with my planned departure from professional practice. Once in use, I am confident it will long and beneficially serve the Health Professions’ students, faculty, and the broader Lane County community, fulfilling the vision outlined by LCC. Because this is the last substantial project I will have a major hand in, I am especially grateful to have been part of its genesis and realization. The LCC Health Professions Building is a design truly marked by collaboration, innovation, and a shared commitment to excellence.