Mid-Century Buildings on Peterson Avenue

Lately there's been interest in the extraordinary mid-century architecture on Peterson Avenue, from the Edgewater neighborhood west through West Ridge, North Park and Forest Glen.  This is a good time to take a closer look Peterson, since many of the most interesting buildings have been vacant for an uncomfortably long time...

Peterson is not an attractive street.  It basically functions as an urban speedway, with four lanes and enormous intersections.   If you're on Peterson you're probably in a car.  These buildings are designed to catch the eye of someone moving by quickly.  The office buildings (top two and bottom right) use a combination of textured materials, patterns, and colors to catch the eye, while the façades are designed to create a sense of enclosure and protection from the nearby speedway.  But they're still following an earlier pattern of commercial design, close to the street with parking in the back. Later development would often put the parking lot front and center, which solved some of the proximity problems, but created an auto-dominated environment.

In contrast, the building on the bottom left (a former furniture showroom) uses its enormous windows to create an immediate visual connection between the interior and exterior.  An undulating concrete canopy above the second floor adds interest.

All of these buildings, constructed in the 1960s, hold a significant place in the history of Peterson Avenue. The one on the upper right, which has unfortunately been recently demolished, was a part of this rich historical tapestry.

Some shoebox houses in the K-Town Historic District of Chicago on the west side.  Documenting and illustrating these buildings was one way I stayed sane during quarantine.  Dates of construction range from the 1900s through the 1920s.  

I can't help but be impressed at the level of detail lavished on homes which are  comparable in size to a 2-bedroom apartment!  It was only possible due to inexpensive land and astounding levels of readily available craftsmanship, primarily from immigrants.

ADM Silos (1947-2021)

This was developed from a sketch I did of this about 11 years ago. I intended to do a study of industrial structures but ended up just drawing a few and not really going in-depth on the history and technology of what I was seeing.  Anyway, these have recently been demolished for redevelopment, along with a pretty nice attached loft building.  I definitely never imagined the real estate boom in Fulton Market.  My strongest memory of the area was the smell of bleach used to wash down the sidewalks in front of the meat packers every morning.  

Rowhouse Chicago: 1880s

Perhaps the golden age of the Chicago row house?                                                                                                           

3920-3924 S. Prairie, 1889

2829-2837 W. Warren, 1880s.

2320-2326 W. Warren, 1884.

2148-2158 W. Bowler, 1882.

615-623 E. 42nd, 1880s.

615-623 E. 42nd, 1880s.

4341-4349 S. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Dr., 1889.

Rowhouse Chicago: 1870s

Some of the oldest row houses in Chicago, built soon after the Chicago Fire of 1871.  These have been drawn to represent their original appearance, as closely as I could determine. In the real world all have lost some structural or ornamental features. 


2300-2310 W. Monroe, 1871

1254-1262 W. Lexington, c.1875.



3712-3722 W. Cermak, c. 1875.



View from Goldberg Park

Looking up from Goldberg Pocket Park.

I'm interested in parts of buildings that were never meant to be displayed.  These are the spaces that most honestly respond to the needs of the structure and the limitations of the materials.  Sometimes these are visible when an adjacent building is demolished, but you can also walk down any alley in the city. I find pocket parks create some great viewing galleries, and sometimes even a bench.  This view from Goldberg Park is one of my favorites.  
It's really a streetscape in its own right, following a set of rules just as compelling as those which govern the finished facades. 

6158 N. Richmond, 1959

Ok, getting back to my profoundly unpopular mid-century multi-family project for just a bit... 

I've written some posts about the Georgian Revival single family homes in the neighborhood which you can read here and here.    Below are some some throwback graphics from 2013, when I thought colored pencils were the greatest thing in the world.  Not sure what I was going for with the blue halo...

Georgian Revival Single Family Homes in West Ridge

As the West Ridge neighborhood developed the cost of land began to increase.  To make the investment worthwhile new construction became more dense, with more units per building. Parcels that had been less desirable, particularly on busy corners, could now be combined and developed profitably.

This 3-unit building below was constructed  on a double lot which might have accommodated two single family homes.  The developer also built a detached two-car garage, something typically eliminated from single family homes in order to keep costs down.  This is designed in the same  simplified Georgian style seen above, right down to the colonial-style windows and the gently pitched hipped roof.



6158 N. Richmond, 1959

The base of the building has the random coursed stone veneer common during the period. This is also used as the surround for a slightly projecting main entrance.  A large glass block window provides light to the interior stair.

The irregular the facade along Granville is really odd, with different windows sizes, configurations and placements.  And how about that uncomfortable-looking blank area?  It's almost as if the stylistic choice is working against the internal needs of the building. This might also explain why larger buildings began to rely on more modern facade designs, where there was more flexibility in the exterior expression. 

Mid-Century Multi-Family Buildings in West Ridge- Part 1

There's been some interesting discussion in Chicago about how residents perceive their neighborhood and how that shapes their response to new development. For a great introduction read this piece by Daniel Kay Hertz, "How Bungalow-y is the Bungalow Belt?" 

3001-3330 W. Granville, 1956.

To summarize, if you live on a block of predominantly single family homes it's easy to overlook scattered multi-family buildings nearby, which easily outnumber single family homes in regard to unit counts.  So when new multi-family housing is proposed it's seen as uncharacteristic by a comparatively small proportion of neighborhood residents who are guided more by their intuitive understanding of the area rather than actual demographics.

2250 Single-Family Homes and 946 Multi-Family Homes (1945-1965)

Those who see new development as threatening to the character of their neighborhood may be successful in opposing and blocking these projects, particularly if they require a zoning change, which is subject to  review through the local alderman. These opponents often appropriate the language of planning to justify that opposition--  not enough parking, too much density, incompatible in scale... Although these may be valid concerns they often stem from a qualitative understanding of the neighborhood and don't acknowledge the complex interweaving of different types of land use.

So I thought it might be interesting to look at multi-family housing in the West Ridge neighborhood.  In particular I'm focusing on  mid-century development which is often overlooked by housing advocates and architectural historians. What exactly are the proportions of multi-family buildings to single family during this period?  How did development change over time?  To answer some of these questions I used the Building Footprints data provided by the City of Chicago.  This is the information the city uses in their Geographic Information System, and includes construction date, unit counts and number of floors.  Full disclosure--  I have no idea if this information is accurate.  I assume much of it was taken from the Cook County Tax Assessor.  But it was the best building-level information I could identify, so I'm going with it.

2250 Single Family Units and 4653 Multi Family Units

Between 1945 and 1965 there were 2550 single family homes constructed in West Ridge. Not surprising, since much of the neighborhood participated in the post-war building boom.   In the same time period there were 946 multi-family homes built.  In comparison the  total number of single family households remain at 2550 but the multi-family buildings contain 4653 households-- nearly twice as many.  (My crummy graphs are meant to represent this visually, although you'll have to click on them before they become legible.) So the real weight of opinion in the neighborhood should really be with the residents of the multi-family buildings.

6158 N. Richmond, 1959

In the next few weeks I'll be taking a closer look at some of these mid-century multi-family buildings.  I find this era to be a very creative period in housing history, and one that hasn't really received enough attention from a developmental or architectural standpoint.  The West Ridge neighborhood is practically an encyclopedia of mid-century design, and I hope to plot out a small part of it.





I also want to talk a bit about what's becoming known as the "missing middle" of the housing market- developments which are similar in scale to single family homes but create a denser neighborhood, permitting greater diversity, walkability and affordability.  I believe these mid-century buildings are good examples and can provide some lessons on adding density in established urban neighborhoods.

Devon and Artesian - Moderne in West Ridge

North intersection of Devon and Artesian

This image is the colorized version of a drawing I'll be offering for bid at the Stone Academy Silent Auction.  It's actually just a few blocks from the school, so I thought it might be a good subject for those with a strong investment in the neighborhood.

As West Ridge developed Devon became a high-end commercial strip with a number of impressive terra cotta buildings constructed in the 1920s.  This district served an explosion of new homeowners attracted by the development of affordable bungalows.  At the time the area still had some of the open agricultural character which marked the first development of the neighborhood.

These two buildings represent the second wave of architectural development,  with a more streamlined appearance and less ornamentation.  Both are clad with Indiana limestone, similar to the Moderne-style skyscrapers going up in the Loop around the same time.  The building on the left, originally Hillman's Grocery, was designed by the firm of Leichenko & Esser in 1942.  It's unusual to find commercial construction built during WWII, when most materials were shunted to the military or to housing.  The building on the right was designed by Albert Hecht and constructed in 1939.  It was originally a Rusnak Brother's Furniture, an early franchise with outlets throughout Chicago.

And here's the black and white version, which will be offered for bid.  Although there have been a few improvements since this scan was taken.

Morse Avenue Walking Tour

The graphic below is the culmination of the work I've done on Morse Avenue since last February. Some history and analysis was written for each of the illustrations, and can be found on this blog.  These were intended to be thumbnail images, but some of the subjects required a more detailed treatment.  You'll probably need to click on the image to see it at a decent resolution.

The point of the project was to take a single street and show it as a microcosm of Chicago architecture and history.  Not sure if it succeeded entirely, but I still think the idea is a good one.  I might try it again on another street... 

L. Shure, 2015

1130-1142 W. Morse (1907-1917)

Morse Avenue dead-ends at the lakefront, and, as you approach the lake, you find a wide variety of building types.  These three buildings, all built between 1907 and 1917, illustrate the rapid change in density that occurred along Morse Avenue.

Looking North

According to the Assessor, the frame building in the center was built in 1907.  The building to its left followed in 1912, and the one on its right in 1917.  Chicago's  1924 Zoning Code anticipated greater density along the city's lakefront, a development that was already happening by the time the Code was adopted. In the early 20th century, just like today, there was a strong desire to be close to Lake Michigan, even if you were sharing your lakefront real estate with several other families.

All of the frame houses on this block originally had generous porches to capture cool breezes from the lake.  The one above lost its porch and wood siding some time after 1937.  It's looked a little bit blank ever since, but it makes up for it with an amazing roofline!  The six-flat on the left side of our frame house has classical details, with limestone lintels and a pressed metal cornice with dentils.  The one to its right has a sort of Craftsman appearance with very restrained ornamentation.

One final note: You'll notice that there's a hill in front of these buildings.  It's a good bet these were built atop a low sand dune. 

Former Rogers Park National Bank, Clark and Lunt

The building at the southeast corner of Lunt and Clark is a 1917 Classical Revival bank with an Art Moderne facade along Clark Street.   Your first thought should probably be "What the heck?" But why this happened is interesting. 

Most of the historic info below can be found in articles published by the Chicago Tribune, accessed through the website of the Chicago Public Library.  Some information about neighborhood banks is taken from the Neighborhood Bank Buildings Landmark Designation Report published in 2007 by Chicago's Historic Preservation Division in the Department of Planning and Development. The postcard image of the Rogers Park National Bank prior to renovations was taken from the Illinois Digital Archives.

This view is looking South.

In the winter of 1917 the new home for the Rogers Park National Bank was under construction. It was designed by firm of Vitzthum and Teich in the Beaux Arts tradition.  Its cladding was polished granite and grey Indiana limestone.  Beaux Arts-style buildings generally relied on the Classical Revival architectural vocabulary, which was selected to convey an image of permanence and stability.   There was a surge of buildings designed in this style after publication of the 1909 Plan of Chicago, which used the same vocabulary to illustrate recommended improvements to Chicago.  The Rogers Park National Bank observed the massing of other nearby commercial development, but it's use of monumental columns and expensive materials placed it an entirely different class.  The bank was constructed at a cost of $75,000, which would translate to roughly $1.3 million today.

As Chicago expanded it became a city of neighborhoods, each with its own commercial and economic life.  At the time Illinois law prohibited banks from opening multiple branches in an attempt to prevent monopolies.  Instead, independent neighborhood banks were developed to address local needs for financial services, building and business loans.

Neighborhood banks were typically sited at the key intersections of commercial districts, and became prominent landmarks.  Clark and Lunt was adjacent some of the earliest commercial and civic development both before and after Roger Park's 1893 annexation to City of Chicago.  Later the new Phillip State Bank and Trust (of a similar monumental design) would locate at the northeast corner of the same intersection.

Apparently the last good photo I took of this corner was in 2008.  It hasn't changed much.

 The Great Depression led to the end of the Rogers Park National Bank, as it did for many other banks.  In September of 1931 the bank was ordered closed by the board of directors.  Heavy withdrawals were given as the reason.  The bank had nearly $400,000 in deposits, but that  wasn't enough to reassure their depositors that their money was safe.  A receiver took over the bank, and was responsible for distributing its assets to depositors and stock holders.  In February of 1939 the bank building was offered for sale.  It was purchased later that year by Simon Simanski, who went about maximizing the value of his new bargain property.  

By December of 1940 the building had been drastically renovated, incorporating the adjacent building to the south under a new Clark Street facade designed by the firm of Lowenberg and Lowenberg.  This was a comprised of cream and turquoise terra cotta tiles.  The former separation between the buildings can be seen above as a wide band between the two groups of second floor windows.  Originally this contained a vertical strip of glass blocks, which has since been infilled.    The detailing is a streamlined version of the Art Moderne style, with minimal references to historic ornament.  This was seen as a good way to modernize a building, and was probably fairly inexpensive.  The portion of the building along Lunt had its windows reduced in size or infilled, but was mostly left alone.  An additional 1-story storefront was added to the east, completely filling the lot.

I wonder if there are any remaining interior details related to its banking history.  If so they may be buried deep underneath the alterations.  In 1940 the building looked pretty much as it does today.   In 1945 it was the site of a double murder, but that will have to wait for a different post...

You can find another post about the Rogers Park National Bank at the Forgotten Chicago website.

7528-7532 N. Greenview, 1927

It's kind of a surprise to find that one of the crummiest buildings in Rogers Park used to be one of the most attractive.  But that's what I discovered while digging through the American Terra Cotta Collection digital archives at the University of Minnesota. I walked past that convenience store a dozen times and never imagined it was once so tasteful and carefully composed.

It only looked like the 1927 photo for perhaps 10 years.  By 1937 half of the Spanish baroque-style building, designed by Zimmerman, Saxe and Zimmerman, had been demolished to create a gas station, retaining only the five bays on the west seen in the lower photo.  And then the gas station was converted into a convenience store, with a breathtaking use of 1970s-style mansard roofs. 

Terra cotta bay with infill

The "L" was extended to Howard Street about 1908, feeding into a burgeoning commercial and entertainment district.  By the mid 20's the area was well-established.   Choosing to construct a 1-story commercial building in 1927 seems a bit out-of-character for the area, but it was located at the edge of the commercial district and perhaps it was felt that upper floors wouldn't be utilized.  As business dropped off in the 1930s retooling the building into a gas station must have seemed like a reasonable idea.  But it would have hurt to see the historic entrance torn off... And in the long run the site was still too small to function as a gas station. Now it's a weirdly-shaped neighborhood convenience store.

1218-1220 W. Morse, c. 1925

I was surprised to find this photo in a scrapbook digitized by the Art Institute of Chicago found in the collection of architect B. Leo Steif. 

Steif's scrapbook is the sort of document biographers pray for, but seldom find.  Whenever he had a project mentioned in the media or one of his designs published he snipped it out and pasted it down.  Unfortunately, the resolution of the scans don't always make it easy to read the text, but at least I know where to find the original.  The historic photo to the right was used as a advertisement by the Northwestern Terra Cotta Company. 

The building has aged pretty well.  It's lost some of the decorative urns at the parapet, and all of the terra cotta balustrades.  The storefronts and operable awnings have been replaced, but the building has come through the past 80 plus years nearly unscathed.  I have no idea about structural issues, but being vacant for so long certainly doesn't help.

If you'd like to view the scrapbook (and who wouldn't?) click here.

1425 W. Morse, 1963

1425 W. Morse

This is one of the worst buildings that can happen to a dense neighborhood commercial district.  It's one-story tall and and the parcel is equally split between the building and parking.  I would say it's a good thing that one side of the building aligns with the sidewalk, but it basically presented a huge blank wall until some storefronts were cut into it a few years back. And it's mid-block, so you can only enter from Morse.   Cars can park right up to the fence along the sidewalk, which is massive and unfriendly.

I expect this was built as a large grocery store and was then superseded by even larger stores with more parking at at the edge of the neighborhood.  Which is really where they belong.  It looks as though this building is struggling for tenants, despite its half-hearted renovation.

This is located on what was basically four separate parcels which originally contained two single family homes and connected two-flats. Lots which don't redevelop to match the predominant density of a commercial area typically redevelop later at a higher intensity.

But even in 1963 why did this seem like a good idea?  I wouldn't be surprised to see this replaced at some point.  It's perfect for a large transit-oriented development.

Morse and Paulina (1905-1914)

1700-1712 W. Morse

The Morse Avenue project is to take a quick look at the the variety of buildings on the street and use illustrations to make some points about its architecture and development.  So I won't going into depth about this block, and how St. Jerome's Catholic Church eventually expanded to fill it entirely.  I won't be discussing the establishment of the Catholic parishes in Rogers Park, and how they managed to break the grid of the city to allow for development better suited to their needs.  Or their importance to early Rogers Park as major social institutions.

The convent building on the right is in the same location as the original (wood) St. Jerome's Church, which was built in the 1890s.  In 1914 the congregants hired architect Charles Prindeville to design the Italian Renaissance Revival Church to the north, which was completed in 1916.  It's likely that the convent was added around that same time, since the congregation still owned that parcel. The church was substantially lengthened in the 1930s, requiring an abandonment of the alley right-of-way and opening up the property for additional development.  A rectory with distinct Art Deco touches was built along Lunt in 1939, replacing the wooden St. Paul's by the Lake, which had been on the NW corner of the site since the 1890s.

Even with good fire insurance maps it's still difficult to tell exactly what was built when, and how the buildings changed as they grew together.  The center of the block filled up with additional school buildings in the 1940s and 50s, although it seems portions of older buildings remained to anchor the new development.  The school buildings along Morse were the temporary home of the Chicago Math and Sciences Charter School, but I don't know if they currently function as a school.

This block really deserves an in-depth treatment of its own, but that will have to wait for a future post.  Or series of posts. If any old-time Roger Parkers want to clarify what was built when please feel free to comment below.

1523-1529 W. Morse, c. 1910

These brick two-flats were constructed between1905 and 1914. Previous development along this section of Morse had been largely single family homes, but the extension of the elevated train to Howard Street in 1908 touched off a steady increase in density that would continue through the 1920s. In the 1910s and 1920s many of the single family homes were demolished in favor of larger apartment buildings and commercial spaces.  These two-flats survived in the slot between these two trends.

1523-1529 W. Morse

When an area shifted from residential to commercial owners sometimes realized that they could add
commercial space while avoiding the cost of a complete rebuild.  Both of these 1-story commercial portions were constructed after 1951 in the postwar boom.

The drawback of this type of alteration is that it makes the original building less appealing as a residence. Views to the street are obstructed, and good luck getting light into the house. Although the second floor can enjoy an enormous roof deck....

1818-1826 W. Morse Avenue

I always enjoy seeing these frame houses on Morse, especially in the winter when their colors stand out against the snow.  I suppose that's why I kept the snow in this illustration, even though it overtaxed my modest coloring skills.

1818-1826 W. Morse (north side)

These frame homes were built after Rogers Park was annexed to Chicago in 1893.  Their construction dates range from 1894 through 1901.  These strike me as custom built homes rather than standard builder models.  They're located on very generous lots, with 50' frontages and 170' in depth.  Not a bad size for a city home.

The stucco house in the middle is particularly interesting.  The assessor dates it as 1896, but it has a distict English cottage appearance, which was popular in the 20s.  A narrow side porch leads to the main entrance, where the overhang is supported by slender round columns.  The same columns are installed in the front yard, each (for some reason) with a chicken statue on top. Sanborn Maps show that this home originally had a wrap-around porch, and those columns might represent the remnants of that porch. This would have made the home more of a Queen Anne style, which would be consistent with other nearby homes of the same period.  So I'm guessing there was a major renovation in the 1920s.

1326-1342 W. Morse

North side of Morse, looking Northwest.

Morse Avenue east of the el tracks has experienced something of a renaissance in the past few years.  The 4 plus 1 on the far left was built in 1971 and has been heavily renovated.  It's unusual for these buildings to get more than a cursory renovation (carpet, windows, fixtures), so that indicates a fairly strong market.  And a unit with a parking space can't be dismissed in a dense area like this.  It's also a signal to other owners of 4 plus 1s that the time may be right for major improvements. 

East of the alley is a brand new condo building built by the development arm of the Pritzker family.  This 5-story building replaced a much smaller one and probably maxed out the zoning envelope for the site.  This was built after the renovation of the adjacent Mayne Stage and reflects some of the design characteristics of that older building.

The most notable change on this portion of Morse is the elaborate restoration and reconstruction of the 1913 brick and terracotta Morse Theater into the Mayne Stage music venue.  Originally this building functioned as a 750 seat nickelodeon, but it's had a long and varied history, including a stint as a synagogue and an indoor mall.  In 2009 the building was gutted and rebuilt, with a new, sunken performance space in back and a bar in the front. It's brought back some of the earlier charm of the street.

And of course, on the far right you can see J.B. Alberto's, which has served pizza on the North Side for over 45 years.  Not sure if they've been using this building for that long, but it's been unpleasantly mansardized from its original 1930 appearance.

1441-1515 W. Morse (1917-1972)

Looking Southeast at Morse and Greenview

Here are three buildings on the south side of Morse at Greenview that represent a range of common  buildings types found in neighborhood commercial districts.

On the far left is a courtyard apartment building constructed in 1917.  The courtyard isn't visible here, but opens on to Greenview. Commercial storefronts are on the first floor along Morse.  Courtyard apartments were common in Rogers Park, with a spike in construction in the mid 1920s. When located on a corner lot they often took the form of an S, with one inner access court hidden from the street.



The center building is a concrete-framed brick and terracotta apartment building designed by prolific architect Maurice L. Bein and constructed in 1928-1929.  This received an "orange" rating is the Chicago Historic Resources Survey, indicating architectural significance at the local level.  Bein was a Russian-born architect who received his education at Hull House, the Art Institute of Chicago, and the Armour Institute of Technology.  The Art Institute has a solid collection of his work from 1920 to 1936, including many digitized photos.  Bein is another unsung architect whose work was so in-tune with its time that it's become nearly invisible.  The Spanish Baroque style utilized for this building is unusually elaborate, including a polychromed terracotta entrance, terracotta spandrels and projecting balconettes at the top of the building.  And the massive green tile mansard roofs can't be overlooked.

In the foreground is a Four-plus-One, which describes four floors of apartments above one floor of below-grade parking.  These were primarily built in the 1960s, although the assessor pins this one at 1972.  Hundreds of these were constructed throughout Chicago, and established neighborhoods were not impressed.  These buildings often replaced single family homes with dozens of 1 bedroom and efficiency apartments. My biggest issue with these is that they tend to interrupt the pedestrian experience with blank walls and dark parking lots.  They also rarely incorporate commercial spaces, since that would have chipped away at their required parking.  Eventually the zoning code was modified to make these less attractive to builders.  It's worth looking into the lobby of this building.  The interior can perhaps be described as a modernist offshoot of the Tudor Revival style.