Design / So you want to save one of St. Louis’ historic buildings?

So you want to save one of St. Louis’ historic buildings?

A list of do’s and don’ts from a pro

So you want to save a historic building? There have been some notable successes and failures over the decades in St. Louis and across the country, and I’ve noticed there have been some common themes throughout all those cases. While it might not seem like it sometimes, this region still has a much better track record than many parts of America; this goes for both older cities with a wealth of architectural heritage, and for younger cities that have grown quickly in the past several decades. Nevertheless, here is a list of do’s and don’ts that I’ve compiled over the years of what works and doesn’t work. We’ll start with the Don’ts.

1. Don’t just talk about a building’s architectural merits in jargon or other words the average person doesn’t understand. It’s important to remember that terms you use with your friends and colleagues might not be so obvious and as common sense to others—even to thoughtful and intelligent people. Talk to friends first and run those dense architectural terms by them. Do they know what you’re talking about? If they don’t, politicians and the general public probably won’t, either.

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2. Don’t insult the owners or developers who are planning on tearing down your favorite historic building. This should go without saying, but you won’t change hearts and minds by calling the person with the financial capital to either renovate or demolish the building you’re trying to save an idiot. Civility is a must.

3. Don’t talk about awards such-and-such famous building won decades ago, and don’t talk about how such-and-such building was written about in such-and-such trade or academic journal decades ago. I can speak about many terrible people having given other terrible people awards and other honors throughout history, and I also know of many mediocre buildings having received awards from less than honorable organizations over the years. Also, if a magazine does not have a wide distribution or large circulation, chances are the general public won’t find it too impressive that a building was mentioned in its pages.

4. Don’t try to save ugly buildings—unless the building in question has incredible historic significance. If you can’t use the word “beautiful” to describe what you’re trying to save, you’re going to have a hard time trying to convince people the value of saving it. And ask your friends outside the field again, is the building you’re trying to save as evocative to them as it is to you and your architecture friends? Ask your brutally honest friends.

5. Don’t try and save buildings or structures that are hopelessly outmoded. I agree that the old canard of “progress” is an often-abused term used to justify many foolish acts, but sometimes progress is a legitimate reason. Soon, the Merchants Bridge, which is the second oldest bridge over the Mississippi, will be replaced with a new and improved span (the piers will be preserved and strengthened, technically), which will allow for increased rail traffic and speeds. While it will be sad to lose the historic superstructure, I doubt even the original builders would oppose its demolition if it means that a new Merchants Bridge will increase St. Louis railroads’ competitiveness.

So what should you do?

1. Do try and buy historic buildings if you can. I want to stress that this option is just not on the table sometimes. Many of the losses to the built environment in St. Louis were never placed on the market, their owners possessing an unfortunate fatalism that denied potential buyers the option. But I’ll never forget when Charles Drury swooped in and bought the International Fur Exchange and its neighbors—while they were already under demolition—and restored them into one of the more interesting historic hotels in downtown St. Louis. Most of us lack that kind of capital that Drury possessed, but we can do simple things like buying that forlorn LRA property down the block and fixing it up—and putting our money where our mouth is. I know plenty of people who have done that.

2. Do stress the economic benefits of retaining a historic building to its owners. Following in the footsteps of my above advice to not insult owners, emphasize how a historic building can make money if it is rehabbed. Saving a historic building for history’s sake will only work for a select few buildings. Let’s face it, while throughout human history cities have been founded for a multitude of reasons, including civic, religious, and military reasons, the vast majority of American cities have been founded for commercial and industrial reasons. By emphasizing how a building restored to its former glory can be used in a modern economy, preservationists can make the case for preserving a building. Take Union Station; while perhaps an easy example, the old terminal possesses a wide, largely unobstructed “blank canvas” that allows for constant reinvention, from trainshed, to shopping mall, to aquarium. It can continue to be reinvented in the future if need be. It makes money for its owners.

3. Do emphasize to the owner and general public how preserving St. Louis architecture as a whole contributes to the competitiveness of the region. Let me ask my readers something: During the summer, how many wedding parties did you see having their pictures taken in front of strip malls along Manchester Road or in the parking lot of the Galleria? Conversely, how many wedding photos did you see being taken in front of the Old Courthouse and Arch, or at the base of Art Hill? Which is more likely: rock and roll being born at Chesterfield Mall or the Greater Ville? Historic architecture, when marketed correctly, can be a powerful economic engine. Take New Orleans, for example; it is nowhere near one of the largest cities in America, yet it is one of the most well-known American cities around the world, famous for its rich cultural and historical tradition. Would all New Orleans’ great culture had happened if the French Quarter was made up of strip malls? I don’t think so, do you?