Urban Living

Eltana Bagels -- Because it's a Long Way to Montreal

There is something quintessentially urban about the bagel, at least that's my own romantic musing. Perhaps its Eastern European, Jewish origins make it somewhat exotic, or maybe it brings up memories of the East Coast and its larger metropolises. Better yet, it is probably because it is only in a city that one can hope to find a decent one! Sold in super markets and bakeries alike, most bagels (in both cities and suburbs) are based on the misconception that if you use bread dough, form it into a circle, and put a hole in it -- you have a bagel. City dwellers have generally experienced better, except for those of us living on Capitol Hill, where, much to my chagrin, we had not a decent bagel joint. That has changed, thanks to Eltana (http://eltana.com). I will not purport to be  culinary critic, but do encourage you to pay them a visit, and give them a try. I suspect you will be pleased. The bagels are hand made on the premises, and baked in a wood fired oven, making them the so-called Montreal Bagel and the favorite of Eltana proprietor Stephen Brown.

[caption id="attachment_950" align="alignnone" width="700" caption="The Wood Fired Oven"][/caption]

The shop is located in the newly opened Packard Building, in a space designed by friends and colleagues Graham Baba Architects (http://www.grahambaba.com/), whose office is just down the street. Built with a lean budget indeed, the space none-the-less has a couple of noteworthy touches that revealed the ingenuity of their designers: a blackened steel wood storage bin as well as a clever way of displaying the aesthetically pleasing bagels.

[caption id="attachment_961" align="alignnone" width="700" caption="Blackened Steel Wood Storage Bins"][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_951" align="alignnone" width="700" caption="Just Look at Those Beauties. Cool Rack, Too."][/caption]

Back of house there is the wood fired oven, while up front are some bar seats with views to 12th Avenue and a large,  centrally located , rustic family-style dining table.

[caption id="attachment_953" align="alignnone" width="700" caption="The Dining Area"][/caption]

Saint Mark's Cathedral: Spectacularly Incomplete

The history of architecture is enriched by buildings that are either incomplete, or, if completed, are monuments to plans gone awry. If it were straight, few would have heard of Pisa’s famous bell tower, despite its being the campanile to an adjacent duomo and baptistery both of which are outstanding examples of Italian architecture. The bell tower’s lean is a result of its being built on an inadequate foundation resting on soils incapable of supporting the tower’s tremendous weight. Part of the tower’s charm is that its builders attempted to correct its lean during construction, resulting in its top being kinked compared to its lower levels. So famous is its lean, it is a Unesco World Heritage site and tremendous intellectual and financial resources have been invested to preserve its construction flaw. [caption id="attachment_873" align="alignnone" width="555" caption="The Leaning Tower of Pisa (Image: Alkarex Malinäger)"][/caption]

The tower, or course, was a completed structure. Incomplete structures provide another chapter in the what “might have been” in the history of architecture and engineering. New York City’s George Washington Bridge, on the northern end of Manhattan and crossing the Hudson River (the only bridge to do such a crossing) is an example of a structure whose charms and grace result from its incompletion. Built during the Great Depression, the bridge was designed to be of similar appearance to its famous neighbor to the southeast -- the Brooklyn Bridge -- with the GW’s steel structure intended to be clad in stone. The financial crash of the 1930’s prevented this, and it stands to this day in unadorned magnificence. Le Corbusier, after his only visit to New York City, commented that the George Washington Bridge was: “ . . . the most beautiful bridge in the world. Made of cables and steel beams, it gleams in the sky like a reversed arch. It is blessed. It is the only seat of grace in the disordered city.” Although I disagree with the later, I certainly agree with his initial assessment, the bridge is beautiful in its unfinished state.

[caption id="attachment_874" align="alignnone" width="700" caption="George Washington Bridge, New York"][/caption]

Here on Capitol Hill, we have at  least two incomplete buildings whose final appearance was unanticipated from their designer’s original intentions. Although certainly not of the notoriety of the two above examples, both have, I would argue, greater beauty because of their incompleteness, and are among Seattle's finest structures. A future post shall examine St Joseph’s Catholic Church; today, we shall have a peak at the grand interior of St Mark’s Episcopal Cathedral.

[caption id="attachment_875" align="alignnone" width="700" caption="St Mark's Cathedral Interior"][/caption]

Saint Mark's Episcopal Cathedral is located on 1245 1oth Avenue East, and when viewed from either Queen Anne or Lake Union is one Capitol Hill's most visually prominent buildings. Its construction began in 1928, but due to the Great Depression funds were unavailable to complete it as originally designed, a design that included ornate, granite-clad  Gothic towers and a lush stone and wood interior (see: http://www.saintmarks.org/About/History.php for greater detail).  What one sees today from both the exterior and interior is a cast-in-place concrete structure, only partially finished in stone, brick, and wood. Although St Mark's exterior appearance is somewhat awkward, the interior evokes a magnificence and mystery that alludes to a time prior to its original Gothic precedents, perhaps to an ancient, Byzantine or Romanesque basilica, precursors to the Gothic.

The Cathedral is organized about a large cubic volume. Sub-dividing this space are four massive, concrete columns that not only hold up a great wooden roof, but were most likely intended to support the un-built Gothic tower. The columns must be the largest in Seattle, and have a faceting that gracefully sculpt the daylight entering the space. Facing each other from opposite ends are an impressive organ and a stunning rose window/altar structure. The organ's wood echoes that of the great ceiling, while the aesthetic of the steel and glass rose window complete the atmosphere of the unfinished worship space.

The organ forms the portal through which one enters the main worship space, and is accessible via a set of stairs from the Cathedral's lobby. It provides an excellent prospect from which to see the interior.

[caption id="attachment_878" align="alignnone" width="700" caption="The Wood Ceiling"][/caption]

The Cathedral ceiling is an expressive wood beam and joist construction, suggestive of Bernard Maybeck's Christian Science Church, in Berkley California (St Marks' architects were also from the Bay Area). Its rough-hewn appearance and gently water stained appearance harmoniously match that of the adjacent, exposed concrete (and water stained) walls.

[caption id="attachment_880" align="alignnone" width="700" caption="The Organist"][/caption]

During my Visit to St Mark's, I was entreated to hearing the Cathedral's organist at practice -- the voluminous  space with its hard surfaces provided the perfect resonating chamber for this impressive instrument.

[caption id="attachment_884" align="alignnone" width="700" caption="The Rose Window/Altar"][/caption]

I began photographing around 3:00 pm New Year's Eve, with the low, winter sun piercing the Cathedral's windows.When I was finished a few hours later, I had the good fortune to witness the transformance of the space from one illuminated with the winter sun's fleeting spectrum, to one provided by a stunning lighting design.

[caption id="attachment_885" align="alignnone" width="700" caption="Rose Window and Water"][/caption]

Open to the public, I encourage all to visit this grand building.

Stumptown Coffee Roasters -- Authentic to the Last Drop

[caption id="attachment_825" align="alignnone" width="700" caption="Baristas at Work"][/caption] There is a uniformity of intention and attention to detail at Stumptown Coffee Roaster’s 12th Avenue location that is authentic, be it in the manner in which its café and roasting spaces are presented, or in the manner in which their roasted beans are packaged. The 12th Avenue Cafe & Roasting House is both a place of leisure and of work, with both being housed in an environment that encourages an understanding of the company itself as well as the products they produce.

[caption id="attachment_826" align="alignnone" width="700" caption="The Downstairs' Coffee Bar"][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_827" align="alignnone" width="700" caption="The Classic Burlap Coffee Bag"][/caption]

The 12th Avenue entry leads directly to the cafe space, but it was not the most interesting space, which is found beneath the Cafe, on the lower level, which customers are encouraged to explore. The lower level is where the soul of the operation is, it is where the roasters, training room, inventory, packaging and loading dock are located. The lower level is essentially a basement, and is architecturally un-adorned. That is not to say that is without visual splendor. Two pre-World War II coffee bean roasters are the heart of the space, and are constantly attended.  The patina of age -- worn wooden control handles, faded paint, and vintage graphics -- lends them a charm that only time can bestow.

[caption id="attachment_828" align="alignnone" width="700" caption="The Roasting Floor"][/caption]

Surrounding the roasters, are of course bags of coffee. Big, burlap bags of coffee, with the burlap (as I was later to imagine) at least partially informing the aesthetic to the entire operation.  Adjacent to the roasters (and fronted by a bar for customers to sit and take in the action), is a large conference and training room, where the various espresso machines that Stumptown uses to train their baristas in the Stumptown-way are housed. And these machines are beautifully exhibited, akin to museum pieces, being arrayed along a wonderfully textured concrete wall.

[caption id="attachment_829" align="alignnone" width="700" caption="The Many Lives of the Humble Bean"][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_822" align="alignnone" width="700" caption="The Two Pre-War Roasters"][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_833" align="alignnone" width="700" caption="The Barista's Tools as a Work of Art"][/caption]

Upstairs, in the café, the setting is more refined with furnishings that reflect a taste in mid-century modern. The layout and furnishings were designed by Stumptown’s founder Duane Sorenson in collaboration with Bo Concept, an international furniture retailer (http://www.boconcept.com/). The building is a restored space, whose heritage I was unable to learn, but is a welcome addition to the growing number or restored heritage buildings found on Capitol Hill. The restoration was made possible by the building’s owner, Scott Shapiro(http://www.eaglerockventures.com/). The building’s main over all architectural interest lies in its unadorned seismic bracing, with steel structure and fortified concrete walls, complementing the texture of the exposed hollow clay block walls, a material commonly found in Europe but long out of favor in the US. In addition to the rawness of the space were the bags of roasted beans in front to the main counter. Their plainness reflected that of the unadorned burlap bags of unroasted beans in the basement, the rawness of the architecture, which in turn reflected the authenticity of the Stumptown operation itself – no glossy packaging, no words heralding Stumptown’s environmental and labor practices; a straightforward package, adorned only by a simple card indicating the type of roast and the words “Direct Trade” (Stumptown deals directly with the growers it buys beans from, in order to assure the product they want, hence, Direct Trade).

[caption id="attachment_832" align="alignnone" width="700" caption="Such Restraint -- Nice!"][/caption]

I am reminded of Reyner Banham’s 1986 classic A Concrete Atlantis: U.S. Industrial Building and European Modern Architecture 1900 - 1925. In his masterful tale, Banham examines the grains silos, warehouses, and factories built in the United States in the early 20th Century and the qualities of those buildings that European Modernist architects, such as Gropius, Le Corbusier, and Mendelhson were infatuated with. These buildings, and their functional and structural expression as well as in their simple, unadorned materiality were held as models for the future of architecture, and photographs of Ford automobile plants and General Foods mills were widely published in Europe. Of course, many subsequent architects have had the same infatuation to the extent that an industrial aesthetic emerged, one seeking to leverage the same sort of authenticity sought after by the early Modernists. However, the application of the industrial aesthetic is just that, an aesthetic, an approach based on appearance, and devoid of its original context. In the Pacific Northwest, the so-called “Northwest School of Modernism”, a quasi-industrial and romanticized frontier aesthetic, is applied to all manner of buildings from educational to residential. What oftentimes is lacking in such a design approach is appropriateness, and therefore the authenticity sought by their designers; or, those same qualities sought by those architects written about by Mr. Banham.

I couldn’t help but think that my Stumptown experience taps into my architect-infatuation with the industrial; however, unlike most spaces so inspired, Stumptown’s atmosphere is not an aesthetic, but an over-all approach grounded in their pursuit of the truest tasting coffee they can roast.  Those words on their coffee bags -- Direct Trade – seemed emblematic of my Stumptown experience that day: grower to buyer, no middleman, and little room for interpretation, authentic to the last drop.

[caption id="attachment_830" align="alignnone" width="700" caption="White Seat Covers on Walnut Frame -- Classic Mid-Century"][/caption]

Rail-Volution Recap Part Two: The Importance of Coordinated Planning

The very fact that Rail-Volution exists shows there is a growing understanding among transit advocates and agencies that the large investments in transit systems should leverage private enterprise to advance a community’s economic, social, and environmental agendas. This awareness between agencies of the need to coordinate policies is key to the successful Transit Oriented Development (TOD) around the Capitol Hill (Seattle) light rail station, and is in evidence by the unprecedented collaboration between Capitol Hill residents, advocacy groups, non-profits, and governmental organizations. Although such linkages seem obvious to many of us, the coordination of transportation and land use planning has been absent for quite some time. There is abundant evidence, however, that such coordination has a history. On a national scale, the construction of railroads was an imperative of the Federal Government's during the nineteenth century. Railroads were the mechanism used to secure the unpopulated western states and territories within the foundling republic. The Federal government gave away millions of acres, in the form of rights-of-way, to rail pioneers with the expectation that the commercial development that followed and its subsequent population growth would create not only wealth, but also population centers, peopling and thereby securing the American west against foreign intrigues and interference. In the 20th Century, the U.S. Interstate System was built and stands as the world’s largest construction enterprise. Expediting its execution were cold war polices centered on national defense, as well as the Federal Government's desire to stimulate post war development. One need only to look at the growth of the post war suburbs with its ubiquitous shopping malls –centered along interstate corridors -- to see the role transportation plays on land use, and the (unfortunate) consequences of a lack of coordination of transportation and land use planning.

Patton Park Apartments, Portland (image courtesy of REACH, Portland)

The urban sprawl resulting from the Interstate highway system had its social origins in the 19th Century and the industrialization of the country. During this time, a critical re-appraisal of the city occurred, due at least in part to the city’s often crowded and unsanitary living conditions. The physical (and social) reform of cities was championed by architects, planners, and sociologists and was centered around lessening congestion and pollution, as well as a romantic’s notion that a return to nature was the cure for the damaging effects of industrial progress. Beginning with the extensive commuter railroad suburbs of Chicago, New York, and Los Angeles, and culminating in the postwar boom in automobile use, the de-urbanization of the United States reflected changing social attitudes of how one ought to live. Instead of crowded and filthy cities, the notion held, one should move to so-called Garden Suburbs, a term associated with the English born thinker, Ebenezer Howard. The 20th century diaspora to the suburbs would not have been possible without the government financing of roads, whose construction was in turn exploited by private enterprise in the form of land speculation, road construction contracts, and automobile manufacturing. Unaware of the impacts of its action, government largess resulted in a myriad of unplanned consequences, including the need to seek additional revenues in order to increase capacity for such necessities as utilities, emergency services, and public institutions including libraries and schools. And though these services had been previously provided, insufficient (or no-existent) land use policies did not account for the ever longer networks of service needed for an increasingly less dense population. Public investment resulted in private investment that created a demand for greater (and less efficient) public investment, and in a self-sustaining (and unsustainable) cycle.

Today, our culture places greater value on social equity, environmental stewardship, and fiscal responsibility than previously held. Instead of fleeing to the suburbs, Americans are rediscovering the benefits of urban living, and the many lifestyle enhancements and financial benefits it provides. Most of the transit advocates at Rail-Volution understand this fundamental relationship between land use and transportation planning, and its impact on social constructs. Unfortunately, too many transit and planning agencies are still only beginning to make the connection between their respective actions. Even metro Portland, and its deservedly acclaimed MAX light rail, at first did not grasp this union in all its nuances. Witness its first light rail alignment (along Interstate 84, and built in the 1980s) which is spatially isolated from the neighborhoods it serves, therefore only tangential to those communities. Fortunately a quick study, Tri Met’s (Portland’s metropolitan transit agency) subsequent alignments have been strategically placed in order to foster community development and greater efficiencies by going through neighborhoods instead of around (or merely adjacent to) them. Success has lead to greater experimentation, with subsequent lines (such as Interstate) being used to pioneer re-development of economically distressed areas, with promising results.

Patton Park Apartments, Portland (Sally Painter Photography, courtesy of REACH, Portland)

The second of my field sessions at Rail-Volution bore witness to advances in Portland’s thinking. A coordinated effort between Tri-Met and the Portland Development Commission (PDC, the city’s increment financed public development and planning authority) led to the strategic investment of urban renewal funds and Federal Transit Administration (FTA) dollars to replace a notorious hotel with low-income housing, as well as to enhance a dying city park. The development of Patton Park Apartments’ was made possible in part by FTA dollars: because Tri-Met came in under budget on the new transit line, the FTA allowed Tri-Met to apply surplus contingency funds to write down the hotel’s property value making possible its purchase by REACH, a Portland non-profit housing developer. This allotment of transportation funding for housing aligned with the FTA’s policy of supporting “Highest and Best Transit Use”, a policy of theirs adopted in the late 1990s,  reflecting the evolving policy of leveraging private development opportunities presented by transit development. Concurrent to the housing construction was the dedication of urban renewal funds by PDC to the adjacent Patton Park, with its rejuvenation resulting in a neighborhood asset, providing recreation space for the new families of the new apartments.

Patton Park, Portland

Another low-income housing project visited that day was Humboldt Gardens, which is ½ mile from rail transit and surrounded on three sides by bus transit. The Housing Authority of Portland developed the project. Designed in a traditional style, its appearance is not as forward thinking as Patton Park, but it is without question a vast improvement to what was there, a fact not lost by the families it serves. As was the case with Patton Park, proximity to rail and bus transit was important for the development of this project.

Humboldt Gardens, Portland

Humboldt Gardens Resident, Portland

In both Patton Park and Humboldt Gardens, the positive impacts of  coordinated transportation and land use planning  achieved many community goals, ones that if pursued separately would be impossible or much more difficult.

For more information:

For further information on Patton Park Apartments: http://www.reachcdc.org/community/development/info/C112/ http://www.bizjournals.com/portland/stories/2008/04/14/focus2.html?jst=s_cn_hl

For Further information on Patton Park: http://www.pdc.us:80/ura/interstate/crownmotel.asp

For further information on Humboldt Gardens: http://www.hapdx.org/humboldtgardens/pdfs/HG-projectsummarysheets.pdf

Next: Developing Trends in Transit Oriented Development and FTA Financing

Capitol Hill Building Analysis Examples 11 and 12

Well, here we are, at the end of this particular folly. With clouds a gatherin', and temperature droppin', venturing forth into the grays of our winter to document the building facades of our lovely neighborhood seems unlikely, at least until the spring thaw. This has been a great diversion, and was helpful for me to not only better understand our neighborhood, but understand why the buildings documented give me pleasure. I hope the few that have followed have profited as well. Until sunny skies return, I will delve into the inner world  . . . .

 

All Images and Text Copyright Schemata Wrokshop Inc 2010