I’m Not Laughing

The northwest corner of North 6th Street and Berry Street in Williamsburg (Brooklyn) in 1940:

The four-story building on the left is 111 North 6th, “Jersey Hogs Pork Products” is 115 North 6th, and the building between (the second fire-escape from the corner) is 113 North 6th. Here’s a better view of 111

which was a wood-framed building with wood clapboard siding. Looking at the 1916 fire map for the area, that kind of construction (in yellow) was common:

Those buildings have been demolished, and I’m not here to mourn them. They were nothing all that special physically or in their history, and Williamsburg has come up in the world since 1940 both socially and in terms of population. Replacement was probably inevitable. I am here to criticize the replacement: Hermès Preps to Open in Faux-Old New Building in Williamsburg. (Brownstoner’s website won’t allow me to embed their photo. In retrospect, that’s just as well. If you want to see it, click the link above.)

In short, there’s a new building on the combined lot formerly occupied by those three buildings, and its exterior has been designed to make it look (somewhat) like an old building that has been heavily modified. I object to this on three different grounds: realism, aesthetics, and ethics.

Realism: first, the brick pattern in the supposedly filled-in windows exactly matches the brick pattern of the supposedly original walls. That doesn’t happen when people fill in windows. Second, and more importantly (whatever that might mean in this context) the locations of supposedly new windows make little sense. if you’re creating a wide window and wipe out a structural pier in the process, why wouldn’t your new window run the full width of both old windows and the pier? If you’ve changed the interior floor elevations, why wouldn’t your new-window head and sill heights match?

Aesthetics: I’m sure there are people who think this looks good. I’m also sure that this is a one-note joke that will not age particularly well. Also, note that the buildings that actually were here before had much simpler facades, in keeping with the appearance of the area.

Ethics: few buildings in the area are landmarked, and (as I said above) the buildings that were previously here were not particularly deserving of preservation. But preservation of nineteenth-century buildings in Brooklyn is a real thing and in some ways contested. We’re in a moment where the basics of preservation are under attack. Making a one-note joke about this – acting like the past of the built environment exists to show off how clever you are with your new design – simply adds to the attack. To the average passer-by, who doesn’t get the joke and thinks this is a real renovation of a real old building, it normalizes butchering a facade.