Senin, 24 Juni 2013

Googleplex comes to Fulton Market

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This how functioning cities evolve.
rendering courtesy Sterling Bay
Crain's Real Estate Daily reported last week that Google is consolidating its Chicago office space, much of it at a Perkins+Will building at 20 West Kinzie, into 1KFulton (will the move come with renaming rights?), the former Fulton Cold Storage warehouse that has been stripped down to its bare bones awaiting the new facades of a Hartshorne Plunkard-designed retrofit.  The developer, Sterling Bay, is proving itself one of the most adapt practitioners in Chicago right now, with the Google catch coming off Sterling Bay doubling its investment in little more than a year at 400 South Jefferson, the former lithographers loft building in the West Loop that, like Fulton Cold Storage, was stripped to its concrete frame and given new, more open facades as the headquarters of Hillshire Brands, the Sara Lee spin-off that returned to Chicago after a decades-long sojourn in the suburbs.
1K Fulton (Work. Eat. Chill. says their website)  is the centerpiece of a rapidly gentrifying neighborhood marked by former lofts converted to residential and boutique hotels, and former industrial buildings to upscale restaurants, shops, and art galleries.  Which, in turn, will eventually be replaced by Gap stores and Starbucks when the transition fully matures.
The sea change already has its own lighthouse in the stunning new Ross Barney-designed Green Line station at Morgan Street.
As you can see in the photos at the top of this post, the last vestige of 1KFulton's historic identity - the huge sign on the tower - has now been stripped away along with the brick on which it was painted.  The Google move could be a game-changer, making Fulton Market a high-tech hub.  Is it only a matter of time before the last meat packing, fish mongering and food processing businesses are completely crowded out and effaced from the district that they gave its name?  In an increasingly virtual world, the actual retreats.

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Minggu, 23 Juni 2013

Chicago Legends George Wendt and Joe Mantegna on Architecture and saving the Hull House Theater

�Not only is Chicago theater well-regarded, well renowned, obviously Chicago architecture is well regarded and well renowned.  Crombie Taylor is a noted theater architect worthy of being preserved, just on the basis of the architectural value.  We've all seen that coffee table book, Lost Chicago, and this would be another piece of Lost Chicago if we don't get these folks to change their mind and save a little culture . . . �
That was George Wendt talking about the Hull House Theater in Uptown.  Along with another legendary Chicago actor, Joe Mantegna, he had been recruited by former Organic Theater director social service association founded by Jane Addams in 1889.
Stuart Gorden to come to Chicago and run a gauntlet of media interviews - including the one you see here -  in support of the Consortium to Save Hull House Theater.  The group is mounting a last-ditch campaign to keep the historic Uptown venue from being converted into apartments by its new owner, developer Dave Gassman.  Gassman bought the property for $1 million in May, a year after it had fallen into foreclosure after the bankruptcy and abrupt  liquidation of the last remaining vestiges of the

�It's kind of like a church in a way, � says Mantegna, �because it's a living, breathing thing, because of the activity that happens within it.  When we used it for the Organic Theater, this space on Beacon Street, here was this beautiful, jewel box kind of a theater.�

It was 1966 when the Hull House Theatre moved into the new Hull House Association building at 4520 North Beacon Street in Uptown, designed by architect Crombie Taylor.  The innovative 144-seat arena-styled theater sits in the basement of the 16,000 square-foot structure, and is currently the home to Pegasus Players under a lease that runs through 2014.  Although perhaps best remembered as a Louis Sullivan scholar who was instrumental in saving and restoring the Auditorium Theater Building, Taylor's own work was �celebrated for their simplicity and elegance, with the Hull House theater �known for its unobstructed views, perfect acoustics and intimate experience. It is widely considered one of the best designed theaters in Chicago.�

The Hull House became one of the early flash points for the exploding Chicago theater scene, first under the direction of Bob Sickinger, and then when it became home to Stuart and Carolyn Purdy Gordon's Organic Theater Company, the adventurous ensemble whose artistic roster included Joe Mantegna, Dennis Franz and Meschach Taylor, and whose productions included the world premiere of David Mamet's Sexual Perversity in Chicago.  The Organic's production of Mantegna's Bleacher Bums, which followed  the interactions of a group of fans watching a Chicago Cubs game, was a breakout hit - running for two years in Chicago and 13 in L.A. -  and was adapted for PBS.

�I think,� recalled Mantegna, �that Stuart [Gordon] discovered this theater existed in this Hull House on Beacon Street in Uptown and here was this beautiful space.  The look of it was not typical.  It was not the traditional kind of proscenium.  This was a kind of arena setup, where the stage is down the floor and the seating goes up like this.  Years later, it led itself perfectly to create the world premiere of Bleacher Bums, because we had no money to do sets for the play.  So we came upon the idea, if we take seats out of one section - just remove the seats - now the concrete risers become the bleachers.  We acted in that section of the theater on the concrete risers.  The audience sat on the stage in folding chairs and in the remaining seats in the arena.  It was a case where the flexibility of the space helped create a show.�

Hull House's longest-running tenant was Jackie Taylor's Black Ensemble Theater, which made the house their home for 24 years until moving to their own theater in 2011.

The Consortium to save the theater was quickly mobilized after Gassman's plans for the property became known last month, and its membership consists of �artists including Joe Mantegna, Jim Belushi, George Wendt, Jim Jacobs, William H. Macy, William Petersen, Robert Falls, Marilu Henner, Jackie Taylor and Stuart Gordon, as well as members of Preservation Chicago and local business leaders.�  A Change.org petition in favor saving the theater quickly attained over 1,800 signatures, including playwright Jeffrey Sweet and Redmoon Theater's Jim Lasko.

Said Wendt, �Stuart Gordon has been a colleague of Joe's and mine for decades, and he was the one who alerted us to the issue and that's how we got roped into it.  We feel it's a worthy cause to be roped into.�

With 46th Alderman James Cappleman and the Beacon Street Block Club in his corner, Gassman's initial response was not encouraging.  Claiming that for the 47 years since its founding, the Hull House Theater is, and always has been, illegal, violating zoning regulations, Gassman told DNAinfo Chicago he �. . . would tell anyone who doesn't like it.  Don't live in America. That's how it works.�  He said he was making a proposal to Pegasus to buy out their lease.

However, when the necessary zoning change came before the City Council Zoning Committee on June 11, after hearing the Consortium make its case, the vote was rescheduled until this coming Tuesday, June 25th, with Cappleman saying it was to allow more time for the Consortium to try to change Gassman's mind and/or come up with a proposal to buy the building from him.

When I asked Mantegna about the idea that historic buildings in some way encapsulate the spirit of a city over time, I got a very philosophical response.

�I don't want to get into a long dissertation about this, but the whole thing is that my belief system is based on the fact that the difference between somebody who's alive and somebody's who's dead is energy.  And Einstein said energy can't be created or destroyed.  So therefore, when you die, where did it go? That thing, the Lifeforce, whatever it is that makes you alive -the soul, whatever you want to call it, that's that thing.  The thing that makes us sitting here talking and being alive, and the difference from if the three of us were dead right now, is that energy, and if can't be destroyed, and that's a proven thing, that you can't destroy energy, where did it go?

�And it could manifest itself in grace,� added Wendt, getting back to the main message.  �And I think David Gassman has a chance to do the graceful thing here and preserve a theater.�

Joe Mantegna and George Wendt has a lot more to say about Chicago and its architecture.  Check out the rest of the conversation, after the break.



Wendt:  You know, most theaters are quite beautiful, especially the older ones.  I remember doing a
gig at the Auditorium Theater and I'm up on the stage, and there's several thousand people in the audience and I wanted to say, �No, no, no - don't look at us.  The show's back there�, 'cause I had the best seat in the house looking out at that theater.  It's just so beautiful.  Often times, these old houses, like the Chicago Theater . . .
Mantegna: . . . the State and Lake.
Wendt:  Yeah, the State and Lake.  Where's Book of Mormon?
Becker:  The Schubert
Mantegna:  That's where I did Hair.  My first professional play.
Wendt:  I did Twelve Angry Men there.
Mantegna:  I saw you do it.
Becker:  When you go to a historic theater, is it just sentiment or do you actually get a sense of the past from the building?
Wendt:  For me, it's just awe-inspiring.  It reminds me to bring my �A� game.  You've got to bring your �A� game, anyway, but to play in the West End of London and walk around backstage just touching bricks and thinking �Charles Laughton probably touched that brick that I'm touching right now.�  It's just amazing - Laurence Olivier, Alec Guinness
Mantegna:  Gielgud.
Wendt:  Yeah.
Becker:  If someone hadn't told you, would you still know?  Would you still feel that?  If you hadn't learned it somewhere?
Mantegna:  It depends on your belief system.  Some people believe in ghosts and all that other stuff.
Becker:  What's your belief system?
Mantegna: I don't want to get into a long dissertation about this, but the whole thing is that my belief system is based on the fact that the difference between somebody who's alive and somebody's who's dead is energy.  And Einstein said energy can't be created or destroyed.  So therefore, when you die, where did it go? That thing, the Lifeforce, whatever it is that makes you alive -the soul, whatever you want to call it, that's that thing.  The thing that makes us sitting here talking and being alive and the difference from if the three of us were dead right now is that energy, and if can't be destroyed, and that's a proven thing, that you can't destroy energy, where did it go?
Wendt:  And it cound manifest itself in grace.  And I think David Gassman has a chance to do the graceful thing and preserve a theater.  Put apartments above it, maybe less than he wanted, but . .  .
Mantegna:  Yeah, I think this is an opportunity for the city, for him [Gassman], for whomever is involved to actually do something that would give him more attention, and even more commercial opportunity.  Let's also have a win-win situation, where we preserve the art.
Wendt:  The arts have generated money, as Rich Daley knew - maybe it was Maggie's idea - but to stay very supportive of the arts, because it regenerates neighborhoods in a very real, real estate way and also attracts companies such as Boeing to Chicago.
Mantega:  When we moved into that Hull House Theater in 1973 as the Organic, Argosy Magazine at the time named that neighborhood the most dangerous neighborhood in the world, because it had basically the biggest conglomeration of different ethnic types of any neighborhood on the planet.  It was a tough, tough neighborhood.  You had drunks laying in the streets.  We were there before they built Truman College, so we saw the gradual kind of gentrification of that area.  It's still not complete.
Becker:  And to go back to the importance of saving Hull House Theater?
Mantegna:  For me, it's already proved its historical value just by what's gone down there over the last many years.  What the theater scene has done in the last 40 years in this town is amazing.  It went from a center for dinner theater and Broadway roadshows to a place that sends out world renowned actors, director, writers . .  .
Wendt:  Pulitzer-Prize winners . . .
Mantegna:  Tony Award winners, Academy Award winners.  Then go back to why it's part of Hull House, the history of that.  Do you want to wipe it all away?

. . .  You go to Rome, you go to Paris, you go to London, and you see that what makes them the great metropolises, part of it is they have - yes there's so much modern, but yet they've retain and protect.  What would it have been like if they had turned the Colisseum into apartment buildings?  Or Parliament into a dandy-looking condo complex?  We have an opportunity here as a relatively young country to start taking care of the things that, hopefully, hundreds and thousands of years from now will be part of our heritage and part of our culture.  If you lose that, then you really got nothin'.  You've just got a place to hang your hat.  There's no identity.  There's no soul.  There's no heart.
Becker:  You were both born in Chicago.  What was it like the first time you came downtown?
Mantegna:  Back then you'd have to dress up.  We'd have to wear ties and stuff when I was a kid.  It was a big deal.
Wendt:  Van Buren Street was an eye-opener.  I lived on the South Side in Beverly and we'd take the Rock Island downtown on Saturdays.  There was a lot of adult entertainment, seedy things.  We were like ten years old and we'd just go, �What is going on here?�
Mantegna:  Congress and State, too.  They had those three strip clubs.   Actually what George said
photograph courtesy Cinema Treasures
about his experience with the Auditorium, I remember that aspect of it, too, going to the movies downtown and going into the State and Lake, going in the Chicago Theater, going into the Oriental . .  .
Wendt: . . . the Woods . . .
Mantegna: . . . the Woods.  I grew up on the west side.  The Marbro theatre was like that.  These were palaces.
Wendt:  Oh, yeah.
Mantegna:  These were like, �Wow!�  I remember the Marbro and the Alex.  Madison, Crawford, that's the area where I grew up.  The Marbro was a big, beautiful place so it was on par with the Uptown . . .
Wendt:  The Riviera, the Uptown.  And out at my neck of the woods was the Capitol Theater, and the
Capitol Theater,
photograph courtesy:
Cinema Treasures
Highland at 79th and Ashland.
Mantegna: Even when I went to High School, Morton East it has an auditorium that's been preserved as a historical landmark, because it's on a par with those theaters like the Marbro.
[Digressive Note: The Beaux Arts Chodl Auditorium at Morton East in Cicero is on the National Register of Historic Places.  This coming September 18th, it will host a concert of Brahms and Verdi played by the Chicago Symphony Orchestra conducted by Riccardo Muti.]
Mantegna: I remember I used to do plays on that stage, and when I did my first Broadway play, Working, in 1978, I kept thinking, what's it going to be like doing my first Broadway play when I get out on that stage?  What's it going to be like?  I remember walking out on that stage and looking out at the audience and the theater, and I thought to myself, this is not as big or nice as my high school auditorium.  It was the 46th Street Theater, which was a nice theater at that time, but compared to what I was used to at Morton . . .  So even as a kid, I was impacted by the majesty of a theater.
[Historical digression:  the 46th Street Theater is now the Richard Rodgers. (I saw Bill Irwin there many years ago.) Working was an adaptation of the classic book by Studs Terkel, adapted, directed and with music and lyrics -with others, include James Taylor - by Stephen Schwartz, after Pippin and Godspell and before Wicked.  Along with Mantegna, the cast included Lynne Thigpen, David PatrickWorking was nominated for five Tony awards, but ran only 24 performances.]
Kelly, Bobo Lewis, and, about a year away from their triumphant reunion as that lovely couple down the street, the Perons, Bob Gunton and Patti LuPone.  A production of Goodman Theatre,
Becker:  So when you were kids and went to the movies, did it draw you to becoming active in theater?
Mantegna:  It's gotta help.
Wendt:  Well, it was air conditioned (laughs) and it smells like popcorn.
Mantegna:  You don't appreciate it as much as a kid, but as you get older.  I remember the Auditorium had just been rediscovered.  It had been like mothballed and then when they rediscovered it, and kind of fixed it up, all the sudden, it's a showplace.  So here's another case of something that was neglected and forgotten and now it's a showplace.
Wendt:  Legend is that Frank Lloyd Wright was involved . . . My neighborhood in Beverly had several Frank Lloyd Wright houses, and all the Wright houses are among my favorite Chicago buildings.

Jumat, 21 Juni 2013

Chicago Jewel Unhidden: Inside Shaw's spectacular Second Presbyterian Church, now a National Historic Landmark

click images for larger view
In a ceremony complete with organ and brass fanfares resonating in the reverberant sanctuary, Chicago's Second Presbyterian Church Thursday evening unveiled the plaque for its designation as a National Historic Landmark.  (Ironically, it's awaiting pro forma approval from the Commission on Chicago Landmarks - it was designated in 1977 - before mounting the plaque on the building's exterior.)

The 1874 church,  with a new interior by Howard van Doren Shaw created after a disastrous 1900 fire, goes from a class of 80,000 in its previous listing on the National Register of Historic Places to a far more elite group of 2,500 National Historic Landmarks.  �Second Presbyterian is the only church in Chicago to receive this distinction,� noted Linda P. Miller, President of Friends of Historic Second Church, a volunteer organization that works both to support and publicize the structure.
Interim Pastor Dr. David M. Neff; Linda P. Miller, left
It's only appropriate, as Second Presbyterian, at 19th and Michigan, was born out of elitism.  It was the church of the Chicago's 1%, just blocks away from the Prairie Avenue mansions of the likes of Pullman and Glessner.  It was after the death of meatpacker George Armour that the church's two-ton bell- in use to this day - and its tower were funded by his family.
from the designation report
It was the wealth of the congregation that accounts for the splendor of Second Presbyterian's interior.  After fire raged through the church in 1900, noted Chicago architect Howard van Doren Shaw, also a member, was brought in to repair the exterior and replace the gutted interior, no expense spared.  Shaw made the church more intimate in scale by lowering the ceiling, the clerestory windows and the proscenium. He rejected Renwick's Gothic style for that of the emerging British Arts and Craft movement, giving it a distinctively American spin.  The composition is dominated by Frederic Clay Bartlett's 30-foot tall, 40-foot wide, Tree of Life mural, from 1903, painted directly onto the cured plaster wall of the apse, culminating in a rainbow and a choir of angels, among the no less than 175 different angels throughout the church, painted, sculpted, carved and in glass.
The glory of the church is its stained glass windows, a number of them from Louis Comfort Tiffany and his studio.  The oldest, dating back to 1894, was the sole survivor of the 1900 fire.  A design by Louis J. Millet was added in 1905, and two by Edward Burne-Jones installed in 1913.
Even at is peak, at 792, Second Presbyterian's congregation was far less than the 1,300 seats in the auditorium.  Over time, as the area became more industrial, the wealthy fled, the mansions demolished or turned into boarding houses, and Second Presbyterian's membership declined. 
Although in 1901 Booker T. Washington was invited to Second Presbyterian and drew a turnaway crowd, it wasn't until 1958 that the first Afro-American was admitted to membership, a late catch-up as the racial makeup of the community had been changing.  Soon the survival of a treasure built by millionaires had become the responsibility of a largely poor Afro-American congregation.
Roosevelt Ferguson
At Thursday's ceremony, Roosevelt Ferguson, President of the church's board of trustees, remembered a time when churchgoers had to contend with falling icicles during the worship service.  �We only had heat on Sunday morning, and there used to be a huge icicle hanging in the southeast corner.  The heat would cause the icicle to melt and fall.�
Ferguson recalled the church considered three options: close the building and donate it back to Presbyterian hierarchy, move the sanctuary to the McCormick Theological Seminary site at Halsted and Fullerton - which McCormick sold to DePaul University in 1975 - or remain and tough it out, which was, thankfully, what they chose.  A series of loans were arranged to do essential tuckpointing.  When the loans came due, repayment was refused, and the funds were able to be redirected to replacing the mesh over the priceless stained glass windows.  �We had to replace the iron mesh,� recalled Ferguson, �because the kids in the community when they passed the building would challenge each other to see who could a get a rock through the old iron mesh and hit the windows.�
Unlike, say, Fourth Presbyterian, which has had the luxury of a retaining its wealthy congregation and now finds itself site smack in the middle of Chicago's primary shopping street, Second Presbyterian gets far fewer visitors than it should.  At Thursday's ceremony, several of the speakers mentioned this was their first encounter with the interior, and they were awestruck.  I was one of them.
The fact that the exterior, truth be told, is more imposing than graceful, probably doesn't help.  Today, even as the community around it undergoes an accelerating gentrification, Second Presbyterian is maintained by a small membership and group of volunteers.  It's hoped that the National Historic Landmark designation will help bring more of us to encountering - and supporting - one of the greatest spaces in Chicago.
Second Presbyterian Church has worship services ever Sunday at 11:00 a.m.  under the direction of Interim Pastor Rev. Dr. David M. Neff.  In the fall, the church's Sunday afternoon concert series, Sounds of the South Loop, is scheduled to resume a new schedule.  In addition, Friends of Historic Second Church offers guided tours,  Wednesday and Saturday at 1:00 p.m. (holidays excepted), and every Sunday after services (approximately 12:15 p.m.)  Brochures are also available for self-guided tours during the hours the church is open.
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Rabu, 19 Juni 2013

Icehendge? Chicago has a new Frank Gehry, and it's Like Nothing You've Seen

click images for larger view (recommended)
We got a tip from a reader to check out what was going in the lobby of the Inland Steel Building, the 1957 jewelbox skyscraper at Dearborn and Monroe designed (separately) by Walter Netsch and Bruce Graham of SOM.  She wasn't exactly thrilled, and was wondering if we should write a complaint to architect Frank Gehry, who admired the building so much he became part of a consortium of new owners in 2005, and retains a 5% ownership stake.
What was going on in the lobby was the installation, earlier this month, of a new security desk.   Not normally a subject for controversy, except that this was no catalog item from Office Depot, but a striking assemblage of elements of glass one Facebook observer has dubbed �Icehendge�.
And I don't think there'd be much point in complaining to Frank Gehry, because, I've been told, he designed it.  From what I've heard, it's intended as a visual a counterpoint to Richard Lippold's Radiant I, commissioned for the building in 1957 by Inland Steel VP and noted art collector Leigh Block.  
Radiant I's relationship with the building's lobby is original and integral.  According to a 1963 New Yorker profile by Calvin Thompkins, early in the design process, Block asked Lippold to tell him what he needed.
Lippold said he would like more space, and, to his amazement, the builders agreed on the spot to push the lobby wall back eight feet . . .�Radiant I� is a thirteen-by-fifteen-by-twenty-four foot construction of gold, stainless steel, and enameled copper set over a rectangular reflecting pool, and in the opinion of Lippold, Inland Steel, and nearly everyone else it is a complete success; it convinced him that he could do his best work in collaboration . . . 
Lippold wrote in a magazine article that to have that collaboration to be a success, the artist must �attach his work so tightly to the building, in similarity of proportion, material, and technique, that try as he might, the user cannot pry it loose [visually] and thus is forced to move though the sculpture or the painting, to the building, and, of course, back down through it again to himself . . . The architect's responsibility in this is simply to allow the artist to achieve this double rapport.�
Radiant I definitely meets this goal.  It both reflects and is reflected in the polished stone of the walls and floor.  A small drop ceiling hovers above it as if kept aloft by the sculpture's energy field, which seems to radiate out beyond the physical object to take in the farthest reaches of the lobby.

The Frank Gehry reception desk, on the other hand, is a study in contrast and assimilation.  It's placed at the far end away from the Lippold, along the south window wall and entrance doors.
seriously - click the images to see a larger view
It was lovingly fabricated by the craftsmen of the John Lewis Glass Studio of Oakland, California.  You can check out a fantastic gallery of photographs of the work being assembled, shipped, and placed on the John Lewis Facebook page.  (Their next Chicago job is renovating the brick at Crown Fountain in Millennium Park) The 14,000-pound work in the Inland Steel  lobby is made of emerald-colored glass, cut down from 6-foot-high blocks into Gehry's famously crumpled forms, arranged as a sculptural work area and enclosure for the security guard, whose video monitors look painfully, plainfully outshone.  Especially at night, the interior composition of the glass refracts color and light like a finely-cut gem.
I'm sure - Gehry or no Gehry - the installation will be controversial,  but because of the way the reception desk is set against the perimeter, you can still easily find views into the lobby that pretty much bypass Gehry's work and let you enjoy the original composition.  (And without that huge  purple metallic artwork that used to set the back wall of the elevator lobby aglow.)
The Inland Steel is in the midst of a major renovation to bring its functionality up to current standards, but as an officially designated Chicago Landmark, the original feel of the design, right down to the original single-pane windows, has had to be scrupulously maintained.  It's important to remember that the Inland Steel, one of the glories of Chicago Architecture, was in its day a gloriously radical statement, and that statement is being preserved and restored.

As an autonomous object, the Gehry reception desk is an intriguing work. Inserted into the relentlessly angular grid of the Inland Steel Building and its lobby, it's also a subtly subversive one, providing a small explosion of the 21st century into the late 1950's vision of Netsch, Graham and Lippold.  While not changing their vision in any way, it keeps it from being embalmed as a museum piece.  It's like the young cat introduced into a household dominated by a beloved aging feline - the relationship is often uneasy, but it invigorates both.  Even as we're left to admire how things once were at a snapshot point of architectural history, the Gehry reminds us how things have changed, as it places past and present in dialectic tension.

And, of course, it's reversible.  It's furniture, not structure, and if it ages badly, it can be carted off, respectfully, long after Frank's gone.  My sneaking suspicion, however, is that once we get used to it, it will become one of those funky objects beloved by the Chicago public.
What do you think?

Senin, 17 Juni 2013

Creation and the Politics of Gender: Modernism's Messengers - the Art of Alfonso and Margaret Iannelli

 Alfonso and Margaret Iannelli -click images for larger view
The new show at the Chicago Cultural Center, Modernism's Messengers: The Art of Alfonso and Margaret Iannelli, echoes two current controversies - immigration and gender in artistic partnerships - in telling a fascinating story with two compelling, parallel hooks: rediscovering the work of sculptor and artist Alfonso Iannelli, and uncovering the vital, often inseparable role that his wife, Margaret Iannelli, played in its creation.

To begin, the story of Alfonso Iannelli is a portrait of the American immigrant experience.  Late in the 19th century, his shoemaker father had left Andretta, Italy to seek his fortune in the United States, and a few years later was secure enough to bring over the rest of the family, including ten-year-old Alfonso.  Soon, Alfonso was studying art in New York, and in 1906 he became an apprentice to Gutzon Borglum, the sculptor who would later go on to create Mount Rushmore.

(click to watch on YouTube in a larger window)

According to the Tim Samuelson, Chicago's official Cultural Historian and the curator of the exhibition, young Alfonso was ripe for assimilating Borglum's philosophy, which was all �about the idea that America has to to find its own artistic voice.�

�Iannelli,� says Samuelson, �was very much an advocate of collaboration in all things, that society was full of strong individuals who work together to create a harmonious society.  He believed in the idea of democracy.  I think this all came out of his immigrant experience - the freedom of the individual to create out of himself, but then the ability of the individual to have interactions with like-minded individuals.�
By the time Iannelli decided his future lie in the Great American West and moved to Los Angeles, Margaret Spaulding was already there.  Another transplant from New York - she was born in Mount Vernon in 1893 - Margaret's family settled in L.A. in 1903.  �Even as a teenager,� says Samuelson, �she was getting every foreign fashion and art magazine that she could. �  By the time she was 16, she was teaching art, and shortly thereafter had carved out a career as an illustrator for fashion advertisements.  She continued her outside work even as she joined Alfonso's L.A.  studio in 1913.
�Margaret talked,� says Samuelson, �in a breathy voice and the men would be mesmerized by this beautiful blonde, dressed in these stylish clothes and talking about art in a whisper.�

The Iannelli Studios had gotten a commission to do posters - at $5.00 a piece - for the Orpheum vaudeville theater in downtown Los Angeles.
�The earliest posters,� says Samuelson, �were done on tinted cardboard, starting in 1912.  You see how they were made to read as a panel.  They had to crank these out, but they made these studies.  They knew what acts were coming and so they would try to plan to make sure that when they were placed in the cases the posters would relate to each other.�
It was a job �perfectly suited to Alfonso Iannelli's desire to put modern art in highly visible public places.  The posters conveyed the spirit and energy of the performers, instead of simple caricatures.�

The posters got the attention of Frank Lloyd Wright's son, John, and in 1914, Alfonso accepted an invitation to come to Chicago to work with Wright on Midway Gardens, at 60th and Cottage Grove.   During the five months he was away, Margaret continued work on the posters, and the designs began to show more of her artistic influence. � She was looking at Art Nouveau,�, says Samuelson.  �She was looking at Secession.  Especially if you look at the Orpheum posters, there's nothing that's Wrightian in those at all.  If there was an article in The International Studio on Japanese art, she tore it out and she'd file it away.  The whole use of line and negative space, it's very much that.�
Alfonso Iannelli, studies for Midway Garden sprites
Meanwhile, back in Chicago, Alfonso was working with Wright to create what the long-vanished Midway Gardens remains most famous for today - its striking �Sprite� sculptures.  Several of the originals, plus a group of studies, are on display at Modernism's Messengers.  The Sprites are displayed on a raised platform that gives you a good idea of their original relationship to the viewer.

�They were never on the ground,� says Samuelson. They always looked down at you.�
�This one had a mast that came out of the concrete, and cubes of glass, kind of like those light fixtures at Fallingwater, and the light bulbs would stagger up.  They called this one the totem.  In an early description, it's also called the gift-giver, that it's greeting you and bringing you cascading flowers in a vase.  Midway Gardens was an experiment in merging art and culture.  Of course, it quickly went broke.�

The downturn at the start of World War I saw the gardens sold in 1916 to Edelweiss Brewing
Margaret Iannelli
click for larger view
Company, which converted Midway Gardens into a beer garden. �They painted the sculpture.  The gift-giver, instead of looking like she was bringing you flowers, was painted to look like she was bringing you foaming beer steins.�

The changes - and cheapening - gained only a temporary reprieve.  Not even an appearance by the legendary Pavlova could save Midway Gardens from the ravages of Prohibition.  It was demolished in 1929, bankrupting in the process two demolition companies who had underestimated the solidness of the construction, �Wright actually said he was happy to see it go.�

When the work at Midway Gardens was published, Iannelli was appalled to discover that Wright claimed all the credit for the sculptures himself.  A contentious correspondance ensued, resulting in a rupture that precluded any further collaboration.  When Alfonso returned to Los Angeles, however, the Orpheum posters �displayed a new aesthetic of geometric complexity deriving from Alfonso's experiences with Frank Lloyd Wright.  Flat geometric areas of solid color predominated the designs, often contrasting with areas of gold and jet black.�  While both Ianelli's embraced strong geometries in their work, that of Alfonso tends to be harder and more abstract.  Margaret's have more of a pulse of life.
On Valentine's Day, 1915, Margaret and Alfonso were married in Santa Ana.  Soon afterward, they moved to Chicago, setting up their studio at the top of Holabird and Roche's Monroe Building on Michigan Avenue.  By the time the Iannelli's, now with two children, moved the studio for a final time, to Park Ridge, Margaret was showing signs of mental illness. 
At times she would erupt into episodes of rage.  Periods of intense productivity alternated with times when she could make nothing at all.  On occasion she would disappear for days.
After a major breakdown in 1923, Margaret was institutionalized, first at a sanitarium in Wisconsin, then on farms in the northwest suburbs of Chicago.  She continued to take on projects, but she never fully recovered, finally being committed to Elgin State Hospital in 1929, where she would remain 38 years - more than half her life.  Her last works were a series of colorful illustrations for the hospital newsletter, painstakingly created by running the pages through the mimeograph once for each color.  The last known issue to include her work was in 1948.  �Details of Margaret's last nineteen years remain sealed in the medical records of the institution.�  She died, two months after breaking her hip, on November 29, 1967.  No one claimed her body.  She was given a pauper's burial in an unmarked grave.
It's uncertain if she even had known of Alfonso's death two years before.

After Margaret was institutionalized, Alfonso began to take on studio assistants, including Edgar Miller, Bruce Goff, and Ruth Blackwell, who would also become his new life companion.  His studio remained active during the 1930's, with a lot of work at the 1933/34 Century of Progress Exhibition. There were also the theaters - the Catlow in Barrington, and Pickwick in Park Ridge- but as the thirties came to a close, work dried up.  (Be sure not to miss the arrow pasted on one of the Cultural Center gallery's high windows, pointing to the view towards Iannelli's last major commission.)

�The irony� says Samuelson, �is he was trying to be the voice of modernism, but to the new voices in modernism - the Institute of Design and Moholy and the movements of the 20th century -Iannelli's work was much too figurative.  They were taking modernism into an entirely another direction.�

�In the end,� Samuelson says, �there weren't many people seeking him out in the studio, and then suddenly he becomes the spokesperson for the Prairie School.  Instead of people coming to discuss the new trends and the philosophies of modernism and life, almost everyone was coming to talk to him about Frank Lloyd Wright and 1914.�  His last known poster was for an exhibition of the work of Adler and Sullivan at the historic Pilgrim Baptist Church, the former K.A.M Synagogue that burned to the bare walls in a 2006 fire.
When he died in 1965, Iannelli's ashes were buried anonymously in a Park Ridge cemetery.  He became news again in 2011, when his former design studio was threatened with demolition.  It was saved at the last moment when it was purchased by the Kalo Foundation and has now been preserved as The Iannelli Studios Heritage Center.

2013 is a year of discovery for the Iannelli's.  In addition to the show at the Cultural Center, next month will see the publication of Alfonso Iannelli: Modern by Design, a lavishly illustrated monograph by David Jameson.


Samuelson is a master storyteller, and in the Iannelli's, he has a great story to tell.  First, the Americanization of Alfonso - how, even before he came here, he was shaped by American culture, and soaked up its values and reshaped them with his own work.  And then, Margaret's story, which the Pritzker Prize's announcement that it will not redress its slight of Denise Scott Brown makes especially timely.  Samuelson's wall text lays out the story of Alfonso and Margaret in compelling and illuminating detail.  Hints are placed as to who was the dominant designer in certain works, but the observer is also often left to decide for themselves.

There is no question that the backstory of the rediscovery of Margaret and her role in the work of the Iannelli Studio lends a special poignancy to the exhibition.  Ultimately, however, the art must stand for itself, and here, it does.  This would be a great show even if the walls were bare of text.

It's a very sweeping display of many types of work, from graphics to sculpture, architectural renderings and ornament, illustrations, advertisements, furniture and even Iannelli's industrial work, including a patented design for a blender's glass container.
Tim Samuelson and appliances designed by Alfonso Iannelli
I don't want to oversell it.  We're not rediscovering a lost Picasso or Rodin, but as they said of Dvorak, if  the Iannelli's aren't necessarily at the top of the food chain, they are still second-rate artists of the first order.  In itself, their work is pleasurable to encounter.  In fostering an understanding of the history of early 20th-century art and architecture in Chicago and America, Modernism's Messengers: The Art of Alfonso and Margaret Iannelli is deeply rewarding.

Modernism's Messengers: The Art of Alfonso and Margaret Iannelli, in the 2nd floor Chicago Rooms of the Chicago Cultural Center, continues through August 27.


Version Festival, Swiss Futures, Marshall Brown's Urban Imaginary, Armenta Davis, Evanston Places, White City Simulated and more - lots of new stuff for the June Calendar!

Yes, I know it's June 17th, and no, it's not too late to be adding another half dozen great items to the
June Calendar of Chicago Architectural Events.

This Wednesday, June 19th, Version Festival will be the focus of a gallery walk through the great Spontaneous Interventions exhibition at the Cultural Center, where on Saturday the 29th, there'll be a Scholarly Perspectives panel discussion moderated by Gordon Douglas, with Jeffrey Kidder, David Schalliol and others.

On Tuesday, the 25th, The Swiss-American Business Council will be sponsoring A Swiss View: Urban and the Future of Cities: 5, 10, and 50 years from Now, with Tom Jacobs, Hanno Weber and Susanne Cannon.

Thursday the 27th is bursting with newly added items, beginning with 's Marshall Brown discussion with Geof Oppenheimer on Architecture, Power, and the Urban Imaginary at the Western Exhibitions Gallery, which is currently hosting Brown's show, Center of the World, Chicago.  That same evening, there'll be a book launch at the First Bank and Trust for Evanston 150 Years, 150 Places; while at the Woodson Regional Library, architectural historian Carolyn Armenta Davis will discuss Today's African-American, Afro-European and Africa Architects.

The Museum of Science and Industry marks its 80th birthday with a double-header from Chicago cultural historian Tim Samuelson on Sunday the 23rd.  In the morning, he partners with Lisa M. Snyder of the Urban Simulation Team at UCLA for Exploring the White City, the latest iteration of the UCLA's evolving computer simulation of the 1893 World's Columbia Exposition, this time with an emphasis on Louis Sullivan's polychrome Transportation Building.  
Then in the afternoon, Samuelson teams up with University of Arizona architectural historian Lisa Schrenk for a look at Building a Century of Progress, exploring the often strikingly modernist pavilion and exhibit designs for the 1933-34 Chicago's World Fair.

The MSI events are incredibly pricey - $20-$25.00 atop the museum's minimum $27.00 entry fee - but the White City simulation, especially, is a fascinating project, and these events usually sell out quickly, so be warned.

Already on the schedule is Martin Adolfsson on Suburbia Gone Wild this Tuesday the 19th, and then on to Creating the Pullman Cultural Renaissance, Channel Glass Wall Systems, the Wells Street Bridge Rehabilitation,  the Common Cause of Charles Rennie Mackintosh and Frank Lloyd Wright, the new growth industry of Urban Farming in Chicago, the Original Sears Tower, the Illinois Statewide Preservation Conference, and a lot more.

How much more?  Well, check it out for yourself - two dozen great items still to come on the June Calendar of Chicago Architectural Events.