Experience is the best teacher.
Marianne Urbelis learned that lesson when, after 20 years as an office worker, she went back to school to master the painstaking work of restoring historic buildings.
Naturally, some of the course work involved sitting in a classroom, listening to lectures and studying books on changing architectural styles.
But Urbelis best understood the job of bringing a forgotten treasure back to life when she finally put her paint scraper to the side of a clapboard house in Old Town.
“It was hands-on experience,” said Urbelis, of Roselle, who, along with six other students from the International Academy of Design and Merchandising, worked on the restoration of the house for a class project. “You learn everything that way.”
The students sanded through multiple layers of paint, eventually exposing what they believed was the home’s original color. Measurements were taken of marks, or ghostings, on the wood exterior left long ago, after the front porch and window ornaments were removed.
“Every board was a different width,” said Urbelis, astonished at the detail and craftsmanship found on the 117-year-old house.
The students were part of a work-study program that used a real house to teach historic building restoration. The assignment lasted six months.
“The students learn by documenting an existing project. It’s like being an apprentice,” said John Craib-Cox, instructor for the class at the Chicago-based school.
As a side benefit, the home owners, John and Karen Loop, saved some money. They figure it would have cost $3,000 to hire a professional to fill out the paperwork needed to get historic certification from the state. On top of that, they would have had to pay an architect to create plans for the house.
“The students did all the drawings and filled out the application for the state certification. They did the work that was labor intensive and expensive,” said Karen Loop. She added that once the building is certified as a historic restoration, it will qualify for an eight-year property tax freeze.
Although it may never compete with more marketable college majors such as business administration, historic restoration has a dedicated, and tenacious, group of disciples.
Half art, half science, the study of restoration combines a love of period architecture with very precise detective work. Old books and records are scoured for information. Building materials are meticulously analyzed for clues from the past.
For students, the hands-on experience instills something well beyond technical skills.
“These students have the opportunity to develop a passion for their work. You can’t get that from a book,” said Garret Eakin, associate professor of interior architecture at the School of the Art Institute of Chicago, which offers a master’s degree in historic restoration. “It’s exciting to see a project come to fruition.”
It also takes time.
The renovation of the Old Town house was well underway when the students got involved there.
“This is the fourth place that we’ve remodeled and renovated. We liked the possibilities in this house,” said homeowner Loop, a history buff hoping to return a bit of authenticity to one of Chicago’s historic districts. “There’s a purity to historic preservation.”
Loop knew certain guidelines had to be followed during the restoration so the house would qualify for state certification. At first, she researched the home’s history on her own.
Built in 1879 on Dearborn Street, the house was moved to Old Town in 1905 when a wealthy philanthropist donated it to a church for use as a parsonage. The house was modified and changed through the years–never for the better.
Over time, with the church itself struggling for money, the house lapsed into disrepair.
The Loops bought the house from the church.
“It was the ugliest house on the street,” said Loop.
Three layers of old siding were stripped from the exterior. Underneath, the restorers discovered that the 3,900-square-foot house had been a mini-mansion, of sorts, with an ornate facade.
Instructor Craib-Cox approached the Loops about having the students assist with the restoration. They agreed, knowing they could use help to complete the research and paperwork needed for historic certification from the state.
“Because we were doing such an extensive job anyway, we wanted to get the tax freeze. It amounted to a substantial amount of money,” said Loop.
For their part, the students did some plain old gumshoe work.
“My assignment was researching the window trim that had been taken off the house,” said student Lori Gruber, who plans a career in historic restoration. Gruber surveyed the neighborhood searching for other old houses that might have had similar trim.
“I looked for ornamentation that was the same size, style and decorative pattern. We used those elements in the trim we designed,” she said.
That included ornamental hoods that currently are being remade by hand for the eight front windows. A new porch will have custom-made spindles and railings.
Student Brent Humecki, a 35-year-old commercial painter restoring his own turn-of-the-century farm house, sanded multiple layers of exterior paint. He determined the original house was probably gray, a popular color 100 years ago.
Traces of yellow and white were found on the house too. The Loops decided to use those colors, instead of gray, to brighten the exterior.
Most restoration work, though, starts in the library.
For days, Kaaren Dodge dug through long forgotten boxes in the archives at the University of Chicago looking for facts about an old ballroom.
“I was trying to find written and visual clues to trace the room’s decorative scheme,” she said.
Dodge and fellow students in a historic restoration class at the School of the Art Institute had the assignment to research the ballroom of the former Illinois Athletic Club, 112 S. Michigan Ave.
The building had been purchased by the Art Institute in 1992. The ballroom, previously a dining hall, had been repainted and stripped of its ornamentation many times over the last 88 years.
“It took us several months to track down records of the old Illinois Athletic Association,” said Dodge, explaining that the documents were eventually found at the University of Chicago.
Dodge located the association’s old newsletters, with photos and written descriptions of the room. These were used as a guide for the interior restoration.
“The students did the detective work,” said instructor Eakin.
Inside the room, the students found a virtual treasure trove of faux finishes. There were examples of rag rolling, gold leafing, leathering and graining. All were used in a 1927 restoration, although, since then, the surfaces had been repainted every three years.
Paint scraping and analysis revealed 32 different layers of color on the interior walls. Decorative columns were chiseled to reveal a marbleized pattern that had been replastered several times.
“We chipped away at a lot of plaster to find the faux finishes,” said Dodge.
A computer was used to recreate the original rug pattern. To match other interior finishes, laser jet printers produced possible rug colors. The same was done with the drapes and floor.
Last year, the restoration was complete. The ballroom now is used for lectures and special events.
The experience, Dodge said, “helped me focus on what I wanted to do.” She currently works at the Association for Preservation Technology International, a group that supports advances in preservation. She also consults on restoration projects.
Sometimes class projects become crusades.
Last fall, a historic preservation class at the School of the Art Institute surveyed the furniture and interior of one of the last remaining homes on Chicago’s historic South Prairie Avenue.
“The owner wanted the house preserved,” said class instructor Don Kalec, director of the school’s historic preservation program.
Maxey Boyd and her husband bought the house in 1948. Surprisingly, there had been only two other owners. That meant original detail work, like a dramatic staircase, was left mostly intact.
“I love the workmanship,” said Boyd, who hopes to turn the house into a museum. “The mitered joints are exquisite.”
The students surveyed the house and its contents. Their work was presented to the Landmarks Preservation Council and other preservation groups, Kalec said: “We are trying to make the house knowable.”
Such notoriety may help save the house from the wrecking ball. It twice escaped destruction in the 1960s, when urban renewal projects swept the city’s South Side.
If the house reaches museum status, Boyd would like it named “The Wood Maxey Boyd Austell House.”
As she sentimentally explains: George Wood built the house; Maxey found it; her husband Boyd saved it; and a sister, Austell, bought the first furnace.
Meanwhile, Kalec is anxious to find more worthy preservation projects for his students. He thinks there’s plenty of work to be done.
“Preservation is taking a hit,” he said, discouraged by the recent demolition of several historic structures in the city. But he hopes as his students graduate and spread the teachings of building restoration, enthusiasm for historic properties will grow.
He said: “The need is overwhelming.”
