« CB1 Criticizes Truck Traffic in Williamsburg New Restaurant/Bar for Fulton Street »
September 22, 2009
Walkabout with Montrose: All Things Luxurious
The Alhambra Apartments. Nostrand at Halsey. Bedford Stuyvesant. Montrose Morris, architect 1889 (Brooklyn Eagle)
Brooklyn, as a prosperous independent city, was growing in leaps and bounds in the mid 19th century. Manhattan started to develop its first luxury apartments, co-ops and residential hotels in the late 1870’s, but it would take a few more years for such ideas to adhere in Brooklyn. We had more undeveloped land, so there was plenty of land for the rich to build their mansions, even as row house development was creating new upper middle class neighborhoods. But eventually, the popularity of these neighborhoods, then, as now, meant that there were more people than there were private homes, and upper middle class apartment housing came to Brooklyn. In affluent Clinton Hill, the first apartment building, the Vendome, was built in 1887, designed by Halstead and Fowler. This Romanesque Revival castle on the corner of Gates and Grand originally held 17 families. The Clinton, built in 1897, on Clinton Ave, near De Kalb, is an even finer apartment building; its “E” configuration originally contained only 30 apartments, two per floor, per wing. Nearby, Langston and Dahlander’s Loire Valley Chateau-like building at 489 Clinton, near Fulton St. (1892), is considered by many to be the finest multiple dwelling in the Clinton Hill Historic District.
Over in the prosperous communities of Bedford and St. Marks, an enterprising developer, Louis F. Seitz, commissioned a talented, local architect named Montrose Morris to design three apartment buildings suitable for the upper classes. The first, the Alhambra, on Nostrand Ave, across the street from the new Girls High School, was built in 1889. It is a block long red brick and terra cotta Romanesque Revival masterpiece, with open loggias and balconies breaking up the strong lines of the Nostrand Ave façade, the entire building ornamented with terra cotta bands and friezes.
Originally, the building had thirty apartments, six on each of the five floors, all with eight or nine rooms. The Brooklyn Eagle on 4/10/1889, reports that each apartment had a reception room, library, dining room, kitchen, bathroom and three or four bedrooms. Each apartment was arranged with wide sliding doors, to enable all of the public rooms to be opened up into one large room for receptions. The building provided a storeroom for each apartment, laundry and drying rooms were available, the building was lit by electricity, and a janitor, engineer and hall boys were on staff. Louis Seitz himself had an apartment here.
With the great success of the Alhambra, Morris went on to design the Imperial Apartments in nearby Grant Square. Said to have been inspired by McKim, Mead and White’s Hotel Imperial, this French Renaissance Revival Castle, built in 1892, was described by the Brooklyn Eagle as “an architectural dream in cream and white.” It boasts monumental Palladian arches, two story fluted columns and is ornamented by alternating row of brick and terra cotta trim, under a mansard roof. Inside, the twenty-five apartments of seven or more rooms were set up similarly to those in the Alhambra, with pocket doors opening up the spaces into one large room, all furnished in the finest oak, mahogany, and other woods, with all of the best of modern conveniences. The Eagle went on to say that the Imperial was one of the finest apartment buildings in Brooklyn, and was equal to Manhattan’s Dakota. At the turn of the century, the census showed among the occupants, an importer, as well as several lawyers and stockbrokers. The third Seitz/Morris collaboration, the 1892 Renaissance, also on Nostrand Ave, is a smaller, scaled down version of the Imperial, with a more Loire Valley chateau look, and was equally appointed as the other two.
Brooklyn Heights, Park Slope and other neighborhoods also had upper middle class luxury apartments during this time, of course. Montrose Morris was also active in both neighborhoods, with the Arlington on Montague, and an Italian Renaissance building of grey brick and terra cotta on the corner of 8th Ave and Carroll St, built in 1894. The stigma against apartment living more or less disappeared by the time the elegant “pre-wars’ were built in the first third of the 20th century. The large mansions began to disappear on the streets of Park Slope, Clinton Hill, Brooklyn Heights and St Marks, replaced by large apartment buildings, many offering the best of luxury living without the upkeep of a house. Prospect Park West, Eighth Avenue, Pierrepont, Remson, Eastern Parkway, Clinton and Washington all became known for their elegant co-ops and apartment buildings, and many of the remaining great mansions became headquarters for private clubs and organizations, schools, churches, or were divided into apartments, or worse, became houses of ill repute. In our last look at the development of multiple unit dwellings, we’ll take a look at how the apartment has changed American culture, along with photos of some significant Brooklyn apartment buildings. See more photos on Flickr.
Trackback Pings
TrackBack URL for this entry:
http://www.brownstoner.com/mte/mt-tb.cgi/11501
Comments
Can I adopt Rose de Mont Meurice? She's a super kid! Thanks again for a wonderful, interesting article!!!
Posted by: BrooklynGreene at September 22, 2009 10:36 AM
i do love these posts :)
ETA - can i get an AMEN!? :)
*rob*
Posted by: Butterfly at September 22, 2009 10:37 AM
i do love these posts :)
ETA - can i get an AMEN!? :)
*rob*
Posted by: Butterfly at September 22, 2009 10:37 AM
Simply wonderful, informative posts. Thanks so much
Posted by: Brooklyn Red at September 22, 2009 10:49 AM
Hear hear
Posted by: Joe from Brooklyn at September 22, 2009 10:59 AM
I love that Alhambra building so much. God I wish somebody would restore that edifice to its rightful glory.
Posted by: wasder at September 22, 2009 11:08 AM
why the dig on houses of ill repute. Not nice.
Posted by: Petebklyn at September 22, 2009 11:20 AM
This is my favorite WWM to date.
Posted by: DitmasSnark at September 22, 2009 11:20 AM
Both the Vendome and the Alhambra were burnt out hulks when I first saw them. Montrosse, you must remember that. The Vendome had no roof, it was a pitiful shell and the Alhambra looked like something from after a war. Most of its roof was gone as well. Thanks mostly to PUBLIC MONEY, yes the same kind that is supposed to buy new streeetlights, these luxury buildings were rebuilt and their exteriors painstakingly restored, based mostly on photos, to their original appearance. It was not necessary to spend all that money on the restoration of geegaws and mansards and dormer windows, but it was done, and now everyone celebrates it. I am extremely happy the work was done. Another few years and both buildings would have been too far gone to be saved.
I am sure posters like Rob, who is opposed to everything he doesn't understand, would have been appalled that all sorts of tax breaks and subsidies were given to private parties for the aesthetic restoration of these two old historic buildings.
Posted by: Minard Lafever at September 22, 2009 11:41 AM
MM - I do find these posts very interesting. I think one thing that would make them better would be to include a map showing all the locations of the specific buildings you mention in these posts. I find myself flipping back and forth between your post and google maps all the time. Also it would make it easier for when I eventually try to plan my own private walking tour to check our the buildings you highlight. Thanks.
Posted by: bkre at September 22, 2009 12:35 PM
Amazing that these grande dames were sunk nearly to ruins (good comment, Minard). Now of course my burning Q is: What do the apartments look like inside? Is there any trace of the original detail, or were they gutted? And what is it like to live with that medieval-looking balcony with its coffered ceiling--who has that apt. and do they ever stroll amongst their columns in the sky?
I also love the massive Tudor-inspired apt. bldgs. along Ocean Avenue between Church Avenue and Ditmas...many have massive interior courtyards...many are still battered sad versions of their former selves with graffiti and steel entry doors and broken fencing, but some seem to have stayed in good shape or been renovated. They were home to early silent-film stars and other A-listers back in the day; I've always longed to see the apartment interiors to look for traces of their former grandeur.
Posted by: Brenda from Flatbush at September 22, 2009 1:04 PM
As I recall the interiors are all contemporary. Both buildings were gutted by fire and then stood roofless for years. The Vendome was restored around 1989 and the Alhambra a year or two later. Montrosse? Do you recall?
Posted by: Minard Lafever at September 22, 2009 1:35 PM
Minard, all of the Montrose Morris buildings in Bed Stuy and Crown Hts have been gutted and repurposed as affordable housing. What was a 9 room apartment is at least 2, maybe three, now. I would be interested in seeing what they did. Sometime I'll go down to DOB and pull up the plans. If I'm lucky, the originals may be there too.
The Bedfordshire, next door to the Imperial, which is in the Flickr pix, just got rehabbed into condos. They have some exposed brick fireplace openings, but no other detail. I have to run out to a meeting, but will look for the listing and post in a couple of hours.
Bkre, I'll talk to Mr B about that, expecially on articles like this with only a few buildings.
Posted by: Montrose Morris at September 22, 2009 1:46 PM
Another example how yesterday's Luxury is todays - affordable....
Posted by: fsrg at September 22, 2009 2:24 PM
Here's the Bedfordshire listing: http://www.prudentialelliman.com/Listings.aspx?ListingID=1145285&rentalperiod=&SearchType=apartments&Region=NYC
Posted by: Montrose Morris at September 22, 2009 3:18 PM
Truly great, MM. I adore these!
Posted by: cobblehiller at September 22, 2009 5:52 PM
Wonderful, wonderful thread, MM. Thanks, as usual!
Posted by: Brooklynista at September 22, 2009 7:55 PM
Montrose:
It’s probably too late New York time for you to read this, but thanks for re-introducing me to two of my favorite Brooklyn apartment houses, The Imperial and The Alhambra, which figured in my 1950’s Crown Heights boyhood. The first was a fun house for kids. The second was where I was introduced to the world of adults (or, more specifically, the world of adult males, as represented by my father and his friends).
My pal “L” lived at the Imperial. From the street, the building was so big that my small brain couldn’t take it all in. And inside, there more twists and turns than could be counted: gloomy stair halls, creaking steps, long passages -- spooky for a kid.
L’s apartment seemed to extend forever. There were the “children’s” parts of the apartment – the hall leading to his room, his room, the kitchen, various nooks and crannies – and the “parent’s” parts, which were off limits. There were fire places, which were never lit. And monumental doors. No amount of modernizing touches could lighten up the place. This was deep in the heart of Victorian Brooklyn.
You must understand. Brooklyn in the 1950s was as close to the 19th Century as it was to the Twenty-First. And Crown Heights, mid-century, was transitional, parts of it still “proper” where people spoke in antique accents (inserting “R’s” in every vowel, as in “water” pronounced “warter”) and rustling among the tea cups, other parts rocking to R+B.
And The Imperial fit right in.
L’s parents were “cool” bohemian types (like my parents, or today’s hipsters) but had the wood-fretted Suburban waiting at the curb to haul us out to their house in the Hamptons, back when they were real “summer colonies” and not plutocrats’ redoubts. Casual, but correct!
Poor “L” was ahead of the curve. The little guy had braces before any of the rest of us and would lather at the mouth like a mad pup (all those rubber bands). “The Foamer,” Dad called him. But he was sweet and funny, and his parents always welcomed his friends. That is, as long as we stayed clear of the adults’ part of the joint, which was cordoned by velvet ropes (I kid you not!).
Meanwhile at the Alhambra lived a good friend of my parents, “R.” An elderly artist, whom I remember as club-footed, greeted his visitors with great formality and led them slowly to his parlor at the end of the hall. His paintings lined the walls and his furniture mixed Mexican and Indian influences (cheap, back then).
One of my basic childhood memories is from R’s living room. In this dark, high-ceilinged room, he and Dad spoke about politics and art while I ate date bread with raspberry jam. The light from the arched windows gave them a spectral appearance, emphasizing their voices, which were deep and – because of the topics – mysterious. But I was so happy to be included in their company (even if, as I now realize, I was parked to the side with my snack). Very different, I knew, from my mother’s “visits” where children were often the focus of attention. With Dad, I was expected to occupy my time, just like a little man. Or what a man was presumed to be at the time.
By the 1950s, buildings like The Imperial and The Alhambra were coming to the end of their first lives. Who would live in them except the bohemian, elderly and/or poor? Everyone else was moving to the suburbs. But for those who remained behind, they were proud places. Which makes my heart sink when I think of the abuses they suffered by the 1960s.
Now, they’re wonderfully restored – at least from the street. Sure they’re chopped up and probably indistinguishable on the inside from any other affordable housing. But how their brick glints in the sun! And how their turrets pierce the sky!
For this Brooklyn kid, peerless.
Nostalgic on Park Avenue
Posted by: NOP at September 22, 2009 10:46 PM






Post a comment
Please be patient while your comment is published. It may take a moment.