The modern glass and blue-trimmed steel tower that rises from a four-story concrete shell of an old bank building looks much like a huge piece from an erector set that has been fastened to a stone base: rather odd.
“That’s the famous `ugly blue building,’ ” observed James Mann, Midwest director for the Washington-based National Trust for Historic Preservation. “I’m not sure what they were thinking when that was done.”
Perhaps the Chase Plaza building is not really all that famous, standing in the shadow of the Sears Tower and across town from the John Hancock Building. But in the eyes of many architectural observers, the 37-story office tower on the southwest corner of Madison and LaSalle Streets is a glaring example of historical vision impaired by a bad case of nearsightedness.
The tower is one of Chicago’s growing number of “facade-ectomies,” or “facade-isms.” That’s a modern architectural operation in which the outer skin of a building is preserved while the interior is either renovated substantially or replaced entirely. In more extreme cases, facades are removed and stored before being slapped onto new structures.
At the Chase Plaza, the steel tower was added to the vintage bank’s facade to preserve the stone facade at ground level.
Facade-ectomies are becoming more noticeable around a city that, at least recently, has prided itself on retaining its architectural flavor. But the phenomenon is fast becoming one of the most controversial in the fields of preservation and architecture, with developers complaining that a facade-ectomy costs too much money and preservationists bemoaning that it is an artificial means of maintaining a sense of the past.
“It’s a fake, a slap in the face to history,” complained Bill Lavicka, a structural engineer and historical preservationist who is far from reticent about expressing his feelings on the matter. He is part of a coalition that is fighting a facade-ism project in the Maxwell Street district.
“We have living history in Chicago, and we don’t need to make it up,” he said. “A facade-ectomy sounds like a cure for a disease, but it is really the disease itself.”
The most recent plans for a high-profile facade-ectomy involve the University of Illinois at Chicago, whose leaders envision prying off the facades of 13 buildings in the historic Maxwell district and putting them on new structures, including on a parking garage and retail shops. The redevelopment is part of UIC’s $500 million expansion.
The project, in which the facades will be catalogued and placed in storage, has been strongly criticized by preservationists, who deride the undertaking as creating a “Disneyland” effect.
The problem for critics such as Lavicka, however, is they don’t necessarily have a ready solution for saving some old buildings when the owner sees a facade-ism as the only chance for survival. What should be done if a building’s interior is beyond repair or has outlived its natural use, but the outside is historically significant or attractive?
Meanwhile, the grandest facade-ism is taking place at the McGraw-Hill building, a massive project at 520 N. Michigan Ave., along the Magnificent Mile. More than 40,000 square feet of Art Deco-like limestone that made up the building’s facade is now in storage in a suburban warehouse, being readied to be refitted on a building now under construction.
The new structure will house a mall, anchored by a Nordstrom store, and should be open next September.
Other facade-isms can be seen, or soon will be, throughout the city.
At Dearborn and Lake Streets, the terra-cotta facades of the old Harris and Selwyn Theatres are being incorporated into a new Goodman Theatre.
At 16 W. Randolph St., where the exterior of the Old Heidelberg Building stands, the two-story Bavarian cottage facade has been preserved and again will be saved during a $50 million renovation. Plans made public last week call for the facade to be integrated into a new Noble Fool Theater complex to enhance Chicago’s Theater District. The building once housed the popular Ronny’s Steak Palace.
Between Wabash Avenue and State Street on the Near North Side, developer Steven Fifield is floating a proposal to erect a condominium tower out of the historic Medinah Temple and Tree Studios apartments, saving the two- and three-story facades in the process.
The Medinah/Tree Studios project is a prime example of what some facade-ism critics cite when complaining that such compromise procedures often work to no one’s advantage.
City landmark status usually is applied only to a facade of a building, allowing a developer to gut the interior and leave the facade standing. In the Medinah/Tree Studios project, much of the interior has no landmark designation, leaving the city with limited control over the building’s final design. Officials are trying to protect the internal courtyard and wings, which play a central role in the complex’s character.
Negotiations continue among the building’s owner, Fifield and the city about how to preserve the historic buildings and still satisfy the financial interests of both the developer and owner, the Shriner’s fraternal organization.
If a facade-ectomy similar to the Chase Plaza tower is the outcome, critics fear that will please no one.
“It’s a ludicrous idea and it shouldn’t be an accepted procedure,” said David Bahlman, executive director of the Landmarks Preservation Council of Illinois.
“A building is an organism and has a three-dimensional mass to it,” Bahlman said. “We’re getting to the point where developers get the dumb notion that all they have to do is save the facade and they’ll satisfy everybody, but it’s a compromise where nobody wins. The preservationists don’t win because there’s nothing left and the developers don’t win because it costs them money.”
Indeed, Doug Farr, who is overseeing the ambitious facade-ism at the McGraw-Hill site, said he would not recommend the operation for widespread use.
The John Buck Co. is spending about $9 million to apply the old facade to the new structure housing a Nordstrom, according to officials close to the project. Some of the limestone pieces have been damaged during the disassembly and painstakingly are being fitted back together.
“This is something that should never be repeated,” said Farr, an architectural consultant hired by the city to oversee the project. “If someone else wants to do something like this again, have them call me and I’ll talk them out of it. I’m not sure what would come out of it if someone else were to undertake this premise. The Buck Co. has made a significant commitment to doing it right.”
That said, some facade-ectomies around the city have won plaudits from architecture critics.
For instance, the landmark Perkins, Fellows & Hamilton Office and Studio, 814 N. Michigan Ave., wedged between Loyola University’s Lewis Towers and a new condominium tower just west of the old Water Tower, is undergoing such a procedure.
The tapestry brick and carved stone facade is standing as a shell while the Park Tower condominiums are constructed 40 feet behind it. By requiring the new condominium tower to be set back and wrapped around the landmark, city landmark officials believe the 82-year-old historic building will appear as a free-standing structure and retain its historic essence. City officials hope the same can be done at the Medinah/Tree Studios site.
Thus, the key to an aesthetically pleasing facade-ectomy is maintaining the integrity of the building’s original character, building designers said.
And it’s hard to disagree that some landmark buildings surely would be lost forever without some type of cosmetic surgery.
“It can be done right in some circumstances,” architect Alan Johnson said. “You just need to give it some depth and make sure it’s not just a skin pasted on.”
