Poor Queen Anne! Her name is synonymous with the catchall of architectural style — a flamboyant and eclectic design genre that caught on in Brooklyn at the end of the 19th century.

But how in the world did a little-known queen of England get her name on an entire period of architecture that took place almost 200 years after her death? And what is Queen Anne architecture, anyway?


Everything ends up here eventually, but Made in Brooklyn is a column exploring native, born-and-bred borough creations.

Brooklyn-born sculptor Frederick MacMonnies’ daughters, Betty and Marjorie, alongside their governess and teddy bear, in the early 20th century. Photo via the Brooklyn Public Library

The teddy bear, the inspired creation of Russian Jewish immigrants Rose and Morris Michtom, was born in a Bed Stuy candy shop in 1902.


More than anyone else in recent history, Robert Moses shaped the physical infrastructure of Brooklyn. We drive on his roads, stroll through his parks, live in his housing developments and are surrounded by his influence at every turn. From the 1920s through the late ’60s, Moses molded New York City like clay, creating a legacy of projects that are greatly used, while being loved, hated and controversial, even today.


Brownstoner takes on Brooklyn history in Nabe Names, a series of briefs on the origins and surprising stories of neighborhood nomenclature.

160 Imlay. Photo via Adjmi & Andreoli’s design presentation

One of Brooklyn’s many former industrial hubs, Red Hook’s long-underused and abandoned waterfront warehouses are now seeing a transformation into luxury apartments.


70 Clark Street then and now. Postcard via Andrew Porter. Photo by Barbara Eldredge

If you’re into over-the-top Victorian architecture, you would have loved the Sands Street Memorial Church, which once stood at the corner of Henry and Clark streets in Brooklyn Heights. But if standard “apartment modern” is more your style, then the church’s 1948 replacement just might float your boat.

Old or new(er)? Which do you prefer?


Even today, having your wedding covered by a prominent newspaper is a coup. For socially prominent Brooklynites in the late 1800s, everyone who was anyone vied to have the Brooklyn Daily Eagle report on their ceremony and reception.

For the 1889 wedding of Miss Florence Gould Travis, however, readers were also treated to an epic description of her lavish new home. Florence was not just marrying one of Brooklyn’s finest, most sought-after architects.

She was marrying the great Montrose Morris. And their home was spectacular.