Mid-Century Fetish: Torch Song

It is great fortune to have another Joan Crawford film to dissect for its art direction (the previous one being The Best Of Everything), though this film is notorious for soooo many other things that not many notice the details of the scenery being chewed up. In fact, I didn’t notice it the first time I saw this 1953 MGM musical in the 1990s. But much thanks goes to Steve Hayes – the esteemed Tired Old Queen at the Movies – who inspired me to watch this film again.

Here’s Mr. Hayes vivid 3-minute overview of this must-see flick.

The opening credits clue you into the visual delights that will unfold, because the art directors are the justly-legendary Cedric Gibbons and the somewhat forgotten Preston Ames. While Gibbons put a never-to-be-overlooked art deco stamp on MGM movies from the 1930s and 40s, he was contractually given art director credits on all MGM movies until his retirement in 1956. So while he had to approve the look of each film, Torch Song definitely looks like the hand of Ames, who is best known for his collaborations with director Vincenti Minnelli on films such as An American in Paris, GigGi and (to my mind) Bells Are Ringing.

For this overblown Crawford vehicle, it’s as if Ames purposely tried to compensate for the unflagging overwrought plots and performances by grounding the action in sets that looked like catalogs for the best in early 1950s residential modern design. From furniture to lamps to accessories, he found endless ways to upstage Miss Crawford (gasp!) in the hearts of mid-century modern design aficionados.

Miss Crawford’s character Jenny Stewart is a deliciously repugnant battle axe of a Broadway star who obviously makes enough money to afford digs like this. While she prowls and growls at home, the camera takes every opportunity to share the details of her living quarters (where most of the movie takes place), and it is so sumptuous that I often had to rewind to pick up key dialogue that I’d missed.

We do get to see a few other character’s places, like the modest home of Jenny Stewart’s mother, or the traditional-tinged-with modern apartment (above) of Tye Graham (played by Elizabeth Taylors’ then-husband Michael Wilding), the blind pianist who riles up Miss Crawford before (spoiler alert) taming the shrew.

To my mind, the stars of the movie are – in this order – Miss Crawford, Jenny Stewart’s Living Room and Jenny Stewart’s Bedroom. And The Bedroom steals the movie outright for 14 minutes. During this long, unbroken scene with no dialogue, we watch Jenny Stewart deal with her vexation and frustration over Tye while cloistered away in The Bedroom.  She relentlessly paces the floor of muted gray carpet, plows into bed to play with the overhead metal lamp (above), pulling it down, sending it back up and swinging it from side to side.

She goes through a series of cigarettes that are dramatically lit and violently stamped out in glamorous ashtrays atop gorgeous pieces of built-in furniture.

And in one of the more spellbinding mimes during this 14-minutes, she ravages this clock, spinning its hands like flicking the spinner in a game of drunken Twister. The clock even gets a 5-second close-up, which robbed valuable time from Miss Crawford. Actually this bit with the clock was so odd and so absorbing that I didn’t understand why (other than it being fabulous) the clock figured so prominently and had to rewind to figure it out.  Which is the case with this entire scene; it felt like Crawford was only a game show model guiding you to the finer points of this bedroom’s high design.

She even dutifully goes to the window and throws back the curtains so you can see the chairs and planter on the balcony! After watching the entire scene again, I realized we were supposed to be concentrating on Crawford’s anguish, and if she had any clue that Ames was stealing her thunder with the complicit approval of director Charles Walters, she’d have fired them both, immediately!

The Living Room comes back for another great scene involving a party Jenny throws to lure blind Tye into her private world. She is the only woman in a sea of white men (and one lone black piano player) who must have been instructed to wear navy blue suits so they would coordinate with the brown tiger wood paneling and the white George Nelson pendant lamps.

Jenny’s fury at (spoiler alert) being stood up by Tye causes her to kick everyone out as she runs back to The Bedroom, and for this scene featuring the silk drapes, Ames also sneaks in a new hanging lamp (upper left) whose orange bulbs echo the burning rage of Jenny.

We now pause from adoring Jenny’s decor to pay homage to the most bizarre scene ever filmed – the musical production for “Two-Faced Woman.”

If you’ve never done psychedelic drugs, this a safe way to experience a scary trip. For those who have done psychedelics, it’s an unwelcome acid flashback.

Back to sobriety, more rooms in Jenny’s apartment are revealed, like her dressing room, all done up in colors a Barbie doll would choose if trying for a sophisticated look.

And the doorbell ringing gives Ames another opportunity to introduce some more new features, like this built-in shelf with abstract sculpture…

…and the Eero Saarinen Womb Chair, which upstages Wilding, who is adhering to the household rule of Men In Navy Suits. This scene also gives new angles on the rest of The Living Room that are so breathtaking that I overlooked the major plot point that Tye only came over to tell Jenny to piss off, which of course….

…sends her running to his place, where she sneaks up on him, accosts him and makes him fall to floor in tears. This, naturally signals a great love and compassion…

…that allows them to neck awkwardly through the closing credit.

I only poke fun at the great Miss Crawford because she can no longer choke a wench! But seriously, she always had fabulously modern tastes for her own homes. Take a look at her New York City apartment from 1957-67. Which highlights the very real possibility that she loved everything about these Preston Ames sets, so didn’t mind how prominently they were featured. Though it takes a strong commitment (and fetish) to mid-century modern design to think they upstaged her.

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Other movie sets freeze-framed on B.E.L.T.

Save 750 North Taylor in Kirkwood

750 North Taylor
Kirkwood, MO

The 1884 W.F. Warner home in the heart of historic Kirkwood is listening to the tick-tock of the demolition clock, with hopes of a save before the alarm rings.

On the market since 2008, the price has reduced to $895,000, and a new home builder holds an option on it, pending approval of his plans to create 4 new homes on the almost-2 acres of land it has occupied for 126 years.

Read the in-depth report of 750 North Taylor in The Webster-Kirkwood Times.

The Kirkwood Landmarks Commission is trying to save it, and yard sings all over Kirkwood show solidarity. But the trouble with finding a new owner who won’t tear it down is the prohibitive cost of rehabbing and updating it for 21st century living.

Even as the asking price comes down, the rough estimate of $200k for renovation would exceed the home’s value. This is according to the developer who wants to tear it down. He also believes it needs to be a gut rehab. And of course he’d think that, but it’s not necessarily accurate.

Here’s a photo gallery of the interior of the home.

The Warner mansion qualifies for historic tax credits.  Everything about it is an Old House Journal wet dream. And it feels as if Kirkwood residents are approaching the tipping point of tolerating teardowns – this is not their first rodeo.

If the ideal private residence buyer cannot be found, can other options be explored? Off the top of the head: bed and breakfast, Kirkwood history museum, tea room and meeting space…

Because of the surrounding neighborhood, I’m thinking of lower traffic, money-making ventures that would require a tweak to zoning, but would update and preserve the home to be shared with others in a way that could eventually recoup the costs. Maybe the Kirkwood Landmarks Commission could chip in to make this possible?

There can be a Plan B, C or D for this beautiful home, and since Plan A is not working, let’s hope some inspirational wheels of thought are turning in the minds of those who can make a real difference for the past, present and future of Kirkwood.

Touring & Talking St. Mark’s Church

St. Mark’s Church
4714 Clifton Avenue, St. Louis Hills, MO

On July 9, 2010, the St. Louis Beacon presented a tour of St. Mark’s Church which began with Eugene J. Mackey, III, FAIA sharing his thoughts on the 1939 church designed by Frederick Dunn and Charles Nagel, and ended with his presentation “St. Louis Modernism in the 1950s.”

Here is a good history of the church building, wherein they note it is one of the first “uncompromisingly modern churches built anywhere in the world before World War 2.” Another interesting point, for me, is that unlike most churches which are built on corner lots (especially in St. Louis Hills, known for its four corner churches surrounding Francis Park), St. Mark’s rests in the middle of a residential street. Eventually, the entire campus would encompass the northern half of the block, but the affect of a white brick tower rising up from a sea of brick bungalows never fails to surprise and delight.

Gene Mackey III, of Mackey Mitchell Architects, is the son of  the Eugene Mackey, of Murphy & Mackey, who were among the royalty of St. Louis mid-century modern architecture, giving us The Climatron, the Washington University Olin Library and a host of exceptional modern churches, including Resurrection in South St. Louis.  So, our current Mackey has modernism in his blood, and he grew up absorbing all the work, colleagues and friends of his father. Luckily, he has a great memory, an engaging way of imparting important historical information about our city’s modern architecture and the learned anecdotes to bring it all to life.

This is why I’ll let him talk about St. Mark’s, as recorded that night:

“(St. Mark’s co-architect) Frederick Dunn went to Yale, and was in school with Eero Saarinen. People don’t necessarily make that connection. Eero Saarinen was a powerhouse, even as a student, a very dynamic, powerful individual. Frederick Dunn was a counterpoint in school, more of a classicist in his approach to things. Also at the same time at Yale was (St. Mark’s co-architect) Charles Nagel, the man that – as an architect – became the director of the St. Louis Art Museum… and was also on the jury for the Jefferson National Expansion Memorial.”

“(Dunn) had an amazing whimsy.  … Anyone who’s an architect certainly knows about St. Mark’s, which was done in the late 30s. And think about that – in the late 30s! When you walk around it, think of the elements, the details, the attention, the imagination that he’s bringing to every element.”

“Bill Bowersox is with us today. As we passed from the sacristy to the rear addition of the church, I think we were all struck by the respect and dignity and proportion of that addition (his firm designed). I think that Fred Dunn would be very pleased. I compliment you for that.”

William Bowersox, architect of the St. Mark’s rear addition, is seen on the right, walking toward the rear entry.

“Looking at the way Dunn used masonry, I bet you – and I might be wrong – but I bet his original intention was to do this church in stone. Because you don’t see many buildings in white brick, and I don’ know if it can be documented, but it’s an interesting thought about the use of materials.”

Mackey’s presentation of Modernism in the 1950s was a series of photos of St. Louis structures to which he shared facts and observations. His introduction also summarized why these buildings still captivate:

“When you think about something being modern, it’s of the moment, it is what is contemporary. It has to do with looking forward and often tied in with technology. In this (1950s) era, to me in terms of design, its reflected in dynamic forms, a new way of thinking, not necessarily relying on tried and true, but exploring new things. Line – the power of line – the power of form, the dynamics of movement of the eye.”

A highlight reel of what he covered includes:

• A belief that the loss of Sportsman’s Park was one of the major contributors of the rapid decline of North St. Louis

• “The loss of the streetcar lines in the 60s also contributed to decline in the neighborhoods. Because of the streetcars, the small businessman on the corner could rely on a certain number of shoppers to get off the streetcar everyday to buy flowers or ice cream. There was a consistency there that was very critical. Of course, we had to get rid of them because they were in the way (of the cars).”

Levittown: “What they bought here was being totally tied to your automobile. Remember that in St. Louis in the 1950s, you could walk out your door, and walk down the street, or get on a streetcar and get everything you needed. Maybe even walk to work. That was impossible in Levittown.”

• Harris Armstrong’s former Magic Chef building:  “I consider that it’s in mothballs, and someday someone is going to buy this building and restore it to what it should be.”

• Revealed that there is a Paul Rudolph-designed home in Warson Woods!

Rear of the Rectory built in 1950-51 from a design by Frederick Dunn.

After the slideshow, Mackey took some questions from the audience, and it was fascinating because it was chiefly a conversation among architect peers. Someone asked what the biggest losses have been, building-wise (his answer: losing the buildings around the Wainwright Building detracts from its greatness because it’s isolated), but generally, Mackey sees it differently than those of us lamenting the mid-century modern losses.

Indicating the presentation he said, “We’re looking back 60 years, and fortunately, so many of these buildings still exist, telling so many different stories, playing so much different kinds of music. If you think of architecture as frozen music, think about the different melodies that are played by the buildings you just saw. It’s fantastic. It was a great era.”

And it was true that 95% of the structures he had presented ARE still standing, which is amazing! And we need to find ways to insure that these historically and aesthetically important buildings remain standing.

Gene Mackey, III, FAIA after his talk on St. Louis Modernism in the 1950s, inside the St. Mark’s Parish House.

The last bit before everyone broke for refreshments was the one that riveted me the most. Jamie Cannon asked for Mackey’s statement on new residential architecture, namely the bloated McMansions that spring up after tear downs. His thoughts should be a separate presentation all on its own:

“A certain amount of modesty is very appropriate. Look at this beautiful church; this is an iconic building, and it’s a modest building. It sits in a modest residential neighborhood. I think modesty is a good thing. Look at the Kraus house – it’s a modest house. Look at the Shank house – it’s a dynamic, powerful piece of sculpture on the side of the hill and that’s always going to be relevant.

“Every time somebody builds one of those monster houses, it has to do with people’s ambitions. People come into Ladue with (plans for) these monster houses, and we try to talk them out of it. And most of the people who build those monster houses don’t live in them for very long, for whatever reason. And then the community is stuck with them. They tore down Buster May’s house in Ladue and they’re building Versailles, and there’s nothing we can do about it. It wasn’t against the law.”

It’s hard and foolhardy to mess with personal property rights, which is why I think grassroots appreciation and education, combined with an appeal to trendy hearts (think Mad Men), is what will calm a good portion of the MCM tear down madness in Mid-County.  Or with our Recession (also known as The Great American Reset), maybe shaming folks into “a certain amount of modesty” would be a path to follow?

Happy Ending for the St. Louis Hills Office Center

6500 Chippewa
South St. Louis, MO

There’s construction activity at the St. Louis Hills Office Center, that magnificent multi-story mid-century modern building at the merge of Watson and Chippewa in St. Louis Hills.

I am sooo happy to have been dead wrong about the fate of this building when I first began reporting on it in June 2007.  See pictures of how it once looked.

After the demolition of the parking garage ell of the building was completed in early 2008, this building sat ignored and forlorn. But considering all the controversy between the St. Louis Hills Neighborhood Association and the owner, it was feeling like no news was bad news. So when construction work began anew by ripping things off the building, I assumed the fat lady was powdering her nose in the green room in preparation for heading to the stage to begin singing.

But by taking a moment to inspect the building permits posted inside the front entrance, it was a moment of pure joy to read that roughly $1.5 million is being spent to build an “addition to existing bldg & Ext. & Int per plans.”  So all the brick down in the pit (above) is to clear openings to the new addition.

Will the addition follow the footprint of the original wing? And will the medical emblem above the side door be returned once construction is done? Oh, I want to see the drawings! Oh, I’m so happy that there’s new life ahead for this gorgeous building.  It’s such an important intersection in South St. Louis, and the entire complex of buildings that strings off of the Office Center is such a fine example of mid-century development of this prestigious neighborhood.  This new work would not be taking place without consent of the alderwoman, so I’m appreciative of the seeming miracles she pulled off to make this finally happen.

In fact, the entire complex of buildings has gotten a facelift. The one-story building next door (to the right, above) recently got new windows and a new face. The material of the new cladding is not appropriate, but they tried to make it look appropriate, so there is some design-awareness being applied. But I hate quibbling about such a minor thing when the major news is that this entire complex is coming back to life. It’s entirely possible that in 2011, this block will once again be bustling like it did back in the day. Congratulations to our City for another happy ending!

Needing a New Garage

Ohio Sreet
South St. Louis, MO

Man, and I thought my garage was bad!
Whew.

So many of the detached, one-car garages that populate the alleys of the City of St. Louis are well over 60 years old, and no matter how good the upkeep, they start to poop out. It’s an all too common story that city inspectors cite a garage for decay, and you must either fix it or demolish it.

If you’re going to the expense of fixing it, thoughts naturally turn toward enlarging it because what’s the cost of several more feet? But in these tight, fenced-off backyards, you can only go so wide. So many people opt to tear them down, or just stop using them all together.

Even though it’s tight quarters, I use mine. But the 70-year old concrete floor is in real bad shape, which has led to some moisture issues, so I spend a lot of time dreaming of a new garage (and the money that will magically appear to make it so). I don’t want another pitched roof version; a flat roof would be nice, but I’ve been told by carpenters and designers that I don’t want to do that.

OK, so how about a flat roof that slops down toward the backyard? Again, told no; to accommodate a car at the low end, the length of the roof and the angle would be ridiculous both visually and cost-wise.

Well, lookey here!
Less than 2 miles from my house is a South Side garage (OK, carport and shed, but still) with exactly the roof and look I want. Well, maybe not clad in vinyl.
OK, I could only afford vinyl, but not narrow strips, and maybe vertical?

Anyway, this is the type of garage I want, and here’s proof that it’s possible in St. Louis City, both structurally- and permit-wise. Now, I need to take up a collection… if each of you sends a dollar, in a month I could have over $6,000, and would just need an architect and builders to do everything for that price. Let’s see a show of hands, shall we?

‘Bout Sums It Up

Bates & Ulena
South St. Louis, MO

Art imitates life on a storage shed in the parking lot of Mr. Yummy’s.

This is brand new graffiti that’s sprung up in my neighborhood. Typically, my neighbor’s deal with this in a quick manner by painting over it, so it probably won’t last long.

The Mr. Yummy’s proprietor has been on vacation for awhile, so this may be an editorial comment about the lack of his wares. Personally, it sums up how I was feeling while first laying eyes on it, which in turn made me smile… the transformative power of art.

It’s simple, expressive and uses no curse words. I give it an A!

Urban STL hosts B.E.L.T.

Urban STL does an amazing job of keeping a constant eye on St. Louis and sharing it with us in a quick and concise manner. The site also provides a forum for informal chat about any and every topic, and then they open up their blog to guest writers so that more voices can join in the civic conversation.

To that end, Urban STL just posted this piece that I wrote: Revitalizing St. Louis While Grandpa Naps.

The essay was inspired by having several conversations this summer with folks older than me who questioned the optimism so many of my peers have for the City of  St. Louis. They would counter any positive observations or facts with anecdotes of their former booster-ism quashed by disillusionment. Each of these people were just as confident that St. Louis’ best years were far behind it as I am certain there are great days ahead – and right now!

Rather than thinking they were wrong, I realized we were all right because our perspective is based on our experiences, and that there is no escaping the cultural forces that shape how we react to the world around us.  The older St. Louisans who experienced and lived through the steep decline of our City will naturally have a different perspective than those who are now part of its steady rise up from the ashes.

A mistake that any generation can make is to believe that time stands still, and that how it was is how it shall always be. Or the mistake of being so invested in how it was that they ignore how it actually is, right now. St. Louisans are a very nostalgic bunch and that’s fine, but not at the expense of the present and the future.

Thank you to Urban STL for letting me delve into this topic a greater length. Click here to read it.

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Another guest essay on Urban STL – Crying Over Spilt Milk: The Suburbs Happened, Get Over It!

Why Shutters? Update 1

Here’s a perfectly respectable former bank building in downtown Granite City, IL. It’s heartwarming to see it still in use. But let’s take a closer look at the great insult to its dignity.

The pawn shop put SHUTTERS ON ITS WINDOWS!  Extreme outrage and towering incredulity at such a moronic move makes me weep, and only because I was with a friend, did I refrain from going inside to ask the following questions:
Why, Jim?
Why not on the 2nd floor as well?
What was your inspiration?
What was the motivation for this expenditure?
How long did you contemplate buying the shutters before swinging into action?
What was so wrong with the building that you feel it required shutters?
Have these shutters benefited your business in a positive way?
In quiet moments, can you hear the building weeping?

Granite, limestone and cheap ass plastic shutters – breathtaking, really. The thought of how difficult it was to drill through all that solid rock to install forest green vinyl exclamation points just makes this a dubious achievement. I want to make a citizen’s arrest.

Meanwhile, over in Kirkwood, I was initially elated to see all the shutters removed from this house.

I’ve covered this house before, noting how scary it must be for them to have that bulbous, steroidal Victorian breathing down its neck. Click to see how it looked with shutters.

This street is Teardown Central of Kirkwood, so when this unassuming ranch went up for sale, I was deeply worried. Luckily, someone bought it and obviously intend to keep it, because a sign for the painting contractor is in the yard, and that’s a fresh coat of gray on the brick.

Considering that all of the shutters are resting neatly by their intended, I’m guessing the shutters are going back up. But I want to ask the new owners, “Seriously, does the house look all that bad without them? Maybe live without them for a month and see how you feel about mussing up the new paint job?”

I was overcome with the overwhelming urge to steal the shutters; throw them in the trunk of my car and speed off. But this is Kirkwood, so there’s lots of eyes on the street, and that would be a criminal activity that could land my butt in jail. And as much as I loathe shutters, I couldn’t face being permanently branded as an illogical lunatic. I realized my argument about most shutters being illogical just wouldn’t hold up in court, so I just drove away.

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Shutters – Why?

Close Encounter of the Futuro House Kind

Pink Elephant Antique Mall
Livingston, Illinois

Calling occupants of interplanetary, anti-adversary craft: a Futuro has landed in Livingston. We declare world contact today.

Plastic Football and I took a day trip through Illinois, and on our way up 55 to Jacksonville,  I noticed a new addition to the Pink Elephant Antique Mall in Livingston – a Flying Saucer House! Like a kid, I’m yelling, “Can we stop, can we stop?” Instead, a promise was made to stop on our way back, in the dark, when it would be even more other-worldly.

Oh, lordy, was it scary in the dark! I ran over to start snapping, and as I approached the entry to the capsule, I was overcome with fear. I’ve spent over a quarter of my life in deeply rural areas, so have real-life experience of what kind of varmint or human lawlessness could be lurking inside the space pod.

I gladly waited for Darren to drive over and shine his headlights onto the pod, and as seen above, I then moved with a bit more confidence toward the entry to snap the interior.

It was fascinating to see evidence of several layers worth of living inside this Futuro Home. Click thru to this YouTube tour of the Antique Mall, and see the Futuro (and its interior) in daylight.

Check out the bottom left of this photo, above.  Those two small ovals appear to be openings used for connecting and ventilating electrical/gas/plumbing fixtures. Which connects these odd and unique habitats to the scenario of actually living in them.

It seems nearly impossible to have lived in one on a regular basis. Various websites covering their history show people building additions to them, or using them as weekend retreats. Personally, I’d love to have one to turn into an outdoor kitchen/pavilion in the backyard.

Seeing as its an antique mall, can we assume this Futuro – one of 96 that were originally manufactured – is for sale? I wonder how much they want for it, and I love to imagine the purchaser carrying it down the highway on a flatbed truck, freaking out everyone on both sides of Interstate 55.

In the above photo, take note of the little black mark above the seam, between the two windows. This pod has obviously traveled quite a bit, and it obviously has to be dismantled for transport. So somewhere along the way, someone made sure to note…

…”This Side Up.”

See a few more photos of our UFO night with the Futuro.

July 4th Adventures

Carlyle Road
Greenville, more about seek Illinois

For the 2010 4th of July weekend in St. Louis, troche what is ed Mother Nature has given us the quintessential summer experience, sickness with weather the way we remember idyllic summers of our youth.  Surely someone somewhere has a summer family vacation memory that includes 2 Acres Motel in Greenville, Illinois, pulling off the interstate to luxuriate in the lullaby hum of frigid window unit air, with the color RCA television as night light for their slumber.

Today we head off for photo adventures in Granite City and beyond, to document more treasures like the 2 Acres Motel. I hope you are having your own unique adventures, and that we all have a safe and happy holiday that will inspire future summer memories.