Historic Homes

What makes a home historic? What makes a building historic? What about an entire district of a city? Is it the age of the buildings? A history of constant, consistent use? Some kind of historic event or significance? Did important people do important things there? Maybe there's just a distinctive and well preserved architectural or social record that really can't be matched anywhere else. In many cases its an unclear mix of all these elements, and its never really clear what leads to a grant or denial of designation. The task of sorting all this out in many cities falls to some kind of historical preservation board or heritage preservation committee. Here in the Twin Cities, as in many other areas of the country, we are experiencing a boom in historic property versus redevelopment fights.

I can't say this a job I particularly want or envy. On the one side, you have legitimate neighborhood concerns about developers pushing people out, changing neighborhood characteristics abruptly, gentrification, affordability, and social/racial/economic justice issues. On the other hand, in order to grow cities need to add population and building up is far more environmentally responsible than building out (though many tear downs are actually about building bigger single family homes, which doesn't address that issue, and can cause other problems with setback violations, shading problems, and strange juxtapositions). It's very hard to address housing costs, fight sprawl, preserve historic character, and still provide sufficient options for growing populations, especially as cities strive to attract members of the "creative class." And really, at the end of the day, it comes down to a board of elected or appointed people coming to decisions about what others can or cannot do with their property. It's a challenging thing, that can often lead to anger and defensiveness, with both sides talking past one another. I understand where both are coming from, but from the outside it often appears to be a case of NIMBY versus in the pocket of the developers. What really needs to happen is there needs to be a more collaborative planning process that might be able to address legitimate concerns while still allowing for flexibility.

If properties are worth less than the cost of restoration, they will continue to degrade and eventually require demolition (which can be a big loss for the neighborhood but also for some of the features of these homes, some of which might still be usable and popular on the renovation market). This process also leads to a downward spiral in neighborhood quality, housing stock, and stability. I used to live in a neighborhood like that. It was a once beautiful Arts and Crafts style house with wooden built-ins and wood floors. However, it was located in the Old Rondo neighborhood of St. Paul, which was a thriving African American community with many similar homes, until it was bisected by the construction of I-94, gutting it, driving housing values down, and sending the neighborhood into steep decline. The house itself has a lot of potential, but when we were looking to buy, we didn't even consider it because the amount of work required would have been far greater than justified, especially considering our landlord was already underwater on the mortgage. Many other houses in the area were similar, once beautiful with lots of potential, but steadily degrading. Lots of renters cycled through the neighborhood, and several lots were already empty or condemned. There might be a way to stabilize, or even reverse the decline, but it would be a challenge, especially without more owner-occupied housing.

I have also had the good fortune of living in another historic Twin Cities neighborhood: Milwaukee Avenue. For two years I rented the first house on Milwaukee Avenue, a development originally built in the late 1800s as low income housing. By the 1970s the buildings were mostly in disrepair and were scheduled to be demolished, but the street's historic nature (architectural, social, and character (it's a pedestrian and bike only street)) and the work of a number of activists got it listed on the National Register of Historic Places and registered with the City of Minneapolis. Some money was then available to restore the houses, a developer bought most of them, restored them, and then created a common interest community, the Milwaukee Avenue Homeowners Association, to run and manage them and ensure that they kept a consistent, historic character. They are cute houses with interesting layouts on small lots. You can tell they were built in another time for what were likely large families sharing a small space. Kitchens are off the back, the other rooms are all clustered around a central fireplace and chimney that runs up the center of the house (allowing the upstairs to be warmed as well). I'm glad I lived there. Again, I would never have bought that house, but I would have considered others in the neighborhood (that were in nicer condition and not right off Franklin Avenue).

Not all historic building fights are about things quite as attractive. Some are more mundane and about commercial redevelopment. One recent spat was in the Minneapolis neighborhood of Dinkytown where a house and several businesses were proposed for demolition to build a hotel. I highly recommend looking at the pictures in the article. There really isn't anything distinctive or interesting about the buildings (they look like a standard commercial strip in a city business district), but some of the businesses have been present for a while. It sounds like it is not so much a fight about history as a manifestation of worry over a neighborhood's character, with concern that popular businesses will be displaced by newer, more upscale ones. In this case, it seems like the neighborhood has the stronger argument (and prevailed at the hearings), I suspect because a hotel is a vastly different type of business than either apartments or commercial space. Perhaps an apartment building with commercial space set aside would be more appropriate for the neighborhood.

In contrast to the Dinkytown case, where the buildings are unremarkable, it is interesting to look at the ongoing saga of the David and Gladys Wright House in Phoenix, AZ. It was designed by Frank Lloyd Wright and is a beautiful property (view the slideshow in this article) that was to be torn down, was bought, saved, and is now the center of a fight with neighbors that object to a limited number of tours being given. That's a fair concern. Residential neighborhoods are not commercial districts, and even limited visitors on a regular basis can be disruptive (see the long running fight in Philadelphia over the Barnes Museum, since relocated (an additional huge fight) over parking in its quiet suburban neighborhood). But back to the original point, the house itself is a premier work by a leading architect. That it was going to be demolished, and now others want it relocated, seems like madness. If any kind of house should be a prime candidate for historic designation, it would be a house like this. As one of its defenders pointed out, Wright designed with the landscape in mind. The idea of "living with the desert" was key to the design and layout. That people would "never consider asking for Falling Water to be relocated" should be a good reference for how to evaluate a house like this.

When dealing with institutions, it can be much easier to handle historic designation issues. Often, the institution wants the designation, as it can lead to financial benefits or access to restoration or preservation funds. At the very least, it can provide status and bragging rights. It is also much less likely for an institutional land owner to face opposition to a designation because it often will own much of, if not all of, the properties to be designated and, in many cases, the surrounding property as well. They still need to go through the formal process, however, including all the proper paperwork and documentation.

In the United States, we seem to have made a big mess of our historical designation system. Perhaps it's because we have "less" history to preserve, or because we are more litigious and competitive, or because we want it all: cute neighborhoods in walkable cities that are also affordable and don't sprawl out (also unicorns). But, whatever the causes, and whatever the solutions and compromises, it's hard to look at American fights without thinking of Europe, "where the history comes from," and marveling at how they manage to do it there. It seems like there are constant stories of discoveries in unexpected places. It seems like the Europeans have found a way to make development, archaeology, and history work together, I can't imagine what Americans would do with those kinds of problems and discoveries. Perhaps we just need more practice living in less space and we'll become less attached to hoarding every little architectural oddity and neighborhood quirk. I am all in favor of preserving character, but I don't want that to come at the expense of sprawling out across the land eating up open space, increasing commutes, and in general amplifying the environmental impact of our urban lifestyle. Accommodation and adaptation, with redevelopment done in concert with communities. That's the way forward if we're going to try to balance these issues because, while a tear down might be one person's property, the choices made will affect everyone around it, potentially for a very long time.