There is No Reason to Restore the Oakwood Mortuary Chapel

I digress from my typical blog subject matter to discuss…

In a recent online “discussion”, a small number of folks, including myself, briefly pondered the notion of restoring the Oakwood Mortuary Chapel. It is a subject that seems to generate a lot of passion from folks that appreciate old buildings. The chapel has been defunct and has survived an assault of neglect and vandalism. These conditions might force most buildings to be demolished. This hasn’t been the case for the chapel and a small group of preservationists, the Historic Oakwood Cemetery Preservation Association (HOCPA) organized around the idea of preserving the cemetery, has worked with the owners to maintain the chapel. Unfortunately, for years, little has been done to make it anything more than a preserved ruin.

Oakwood Mortuary Chapel, Oakwood Cemetery, Syracuse, N. Y. from Picturesque Oakwood (1894).

The chapel is part of a large historic non-sectarian rural cemetery, Oakwood Cemetery, in the city of Syracuse. Like the chapel, much of the cemetery is in various states of ruin and dis-repair. Given its historic nature and size, it requires an immense amount of maintenance. Over the years, there seems to have been a battle of wills and of resources to maintain and preserve the cemetery and its monuments. Newspaper accounts show that the current owner has had its fiscal practices in regards to facilities upkeep questioned. This, coupled with the fact that the cemetery has already rejected state funds for building upkeep, seems to reflect a less than enthusiastic restoration position on the part of the owner.

View of rear of chapel from atop the underground receiving vault. Photo by Eric Payne.

Every group or municipality that advocates for historic preservation has compiled and publicizes some sort of list that aims to educate people about why they should preserve buildings. They typically focus on cultural vibrancy, the environment, impossible-to-replicate craftsmanship, neighborhood continuity, and a number of economic principles. There are some older buildings that are of a particularly type, size, location, and intrinsic artistic value that make the argument for preserving them very easy. Then there is the Oakwood Mortuary Chapel.

Unlike most structures, there is no obvious “reason” to preserve the chapel. A mixed use structure originally housing a crematorium, receiving vault, and chapel, it has outlived its use. Modern funerary practices typically performs these functions away from cemetery grounds. Given how unique the structure is and its relatively remote location, its re-use scenarios are limited, at best. A visitors center, filming and photography venue, or exhibit space are hardly going to generate an income that would make a compelling argument for restoration.  

So why would anyone preserve a structure like this? I think the answer finds its roots in some of the reactions that I saw the other day in the online conversation. People seem to have a general attraction to this building. It is a very compelling piece of architecture in a very rare, almost exotic, landscape setting. It is also unique because relatively few structures of this type were ever built. Since the designer of the structure was a very talented one, it is also imbued with a plethora of artistic design touches that are lacking in modern structures. I think that is at this level that the building appeals to people and may be the reason for its salvation.

Construction on the chapel started in 1879 and was championed by Elias Leavenworth. Leavenworth was a local lawyer, politician and one time mayor of the City of Syracuse. He lived in a conspicuously designed Greek-revival mansion on fashionable James Street and had civic beautification at the forefront of his personal and public agenda. Throughout his career, he championed the development of public parks throughout the city of Syracuse and personally funded the introduction of plants, sculptures, fountains and other improvements on those public grounds. He was one of the proponents of the establishment of Oakwood cemetery and was personally involved in the design and construction of the mortuary chapel. He also hired the chapel’s architect to design his own mausoleum in the same cemetery.

The Syracuse Savings Bank Tower, where Silsbee had his offices. Photo by C. Payne.

The Oakwood Cemetery Association hired local architect Joseph Lyman Silsbee as its designer. Silsbee had skyrocketed to fame at a young age, designing two of Syracuse’s finest landmarks, the Syracuse SavingsBank and White Memorial Building before the age of 28. The chapel was completed in 1880 and within a few years, Silsbee had achieved national acclaim for his work. His designs were in such high demand that he set up offices in Buffalo and Chicago, moving to Chicago in 1884. He has gone down in the history books because of his association with America’s greatest architect. In 1887, he was the first Chicago architect to give young Frank Lloyd Wright a job. This was due to Silsbee’s design of another chapel, for Wright’s uncle, in Spring GreenWisconsin.  

Silsbee's design for Unity Chapel, Spring Green, Wisconsin (1885).

Given how it was conceived and the people involved with its conception, it is no surprise that the chapel has retained its aesthetic appeal for over one hundred and thirty years. The chapel has exemplary artistic merit, as far as old buildings are concerned. It was designed by a master architect and built by one of Syracuse’s most talented contractors, William Dickison. It is composed of intricately carved and detailed local limestone and accented with imported granite. The decorative motifs are a playful array of classical, exotic and macabre elements. Spider webs and foliate forms grace the exterior and a large dragon in the form of an “O,” for “Oakwood," graces the pediment at the base of the chapel’s seventy foot tall tower. The interior boasts a high degree of carpentry work with ornamental beams, ceiling and trim that echo forms seen on the exterior of the structure. The floor is part wood and partially laid with art-tiles. At one point, the building was also home to an array of beautiful art glass. 

"O" for Oakwood dragon in the pediment of the Oakwood Mortuary Chapel tower.

One also should not ignore that the vacancy and deterioration of the chapel are also part of what make it attractive. We love ruins. From Alcatraz to the Coliseum, many people have an attraction to buildings in a state of decay. There is a sublime character in them that speaks to an inner part of us in a way that many new or restored buildings cannot. They retain an overt sense of use that allows us to viscerally understand and imagine the history of a place. What better way to illustrate this sublime character of ruins than by experiencing an intricately designed mortuary chapel, in a bucolic setting. A primary challenge for the chapel restoration is the building’s condition and coming to terms with it as a high-grade architectural artifact and a romantic structure in a state of ruin.

"Dedication Valley", Oakwood Cemetery in winter (2009). Photo by C. Payne. 

Another challenge facing possible restorers is the technical aspect of rectifying the current condition. Its construction location, built into a hillside, makes it particularly susceptible to moisture infiltration. Years of neglect, leaking roofs and vandalism have also taken their toll on the building. That said, many of the historic features of the structure are still intact including the exterior stone work, vaulted wood ceiling of the porte-cochere, interior wood ceiling and wainscot, glazed brick walls and tile floors. Much of it is in a state of disrepair but none of it seems to be beyond the point of no return.     

Damaged retaining wall and boarded windows at the Oakwood Mortuary Chapel. Photo by Eric Payne.

Syracuse seems to be on the verge of an awakening when it comes to recognizing its built environment as a resource. Seeing itself in an economic challenge to maintain its 156 year old mansion, in 2009, the Corinthian Club turned over ownership of the Barnes-Hiscock Mansion to the George &Rebecca Barnes Foundation. Along with ownership came the primary mission to restore and preserve the landmark structure as a one of a kind events venue and house museum. In the summer of 2012, the Everson Museum and the L. & J. G. Stickley Company announced a partnership that would restore the Gustav Stickley home and embark on a cooperative approach to exhibits and cultural outreach. Both the Barnes-Hiscock Mansion and Stickley home are signs that there are people in the Syracuse that recognize the historic capital inherent in these structures and the willingness to invest in them for long term cultural and economic gain.

Two very different historic interiors: The Stickley Residence (left) and the Barnes-Hiscock Residence (right).

One only needs to look two hours west of Syracuse, in Buffalo, to see how a community has dramatically turned around its image, using its cultural resources as an asset. A rust-belt city with plummeting employment rates, notoriously bad weather, and a Super Bowl record in the 1990’s that did all but solidify its reputation as a “losing city”, Buffalo seemed an unlikely place for any sort of cultural awakening. Regardless of these setbacks, the city has put its best architectural foot forward with restoration of Frank Lloyd Wright’s exemplary Prairie School home, the Darwin D. Martin House along with landmark downtown renovation projects at Louis Sullivan’s Guaranty Building and Louise Bethune’s LaFayette Hotel. It has championed its waterfront and “Silo City”, a wasteland of hulking industrial grain elevators, with performing and visual arts pieces and arts education programming. Two crowning events occurred in 2011, when it hosted the National Preservation conference and in 2013, when it played host to the National Society of Architectural Historians Conference. This week, it announced plans for renovation of its mammoth “Richardson Complex” into a hospitality and heritage tourism center. Buffalo may never be the economic powerhouse that it was at the turn of the century but it is has aggressively staked a claim as a premier architectural and cultural destination and it is a far cry from where it was as short as twenty years ago. 

Image of Oakwood Mortuary Chapel in a manicured Oakwood Cemetery from Art Work of Syracuse (1899).

Syracuse may not have the cultural or economic resources of a city like Buffalo but the kinds of City-University partnerships that are developing the Connective Corridor, the Onondaga Creek Walk and other public amenities coupled with institutional and private development of individual historic structures has the possibility of creating its own tipping point. Restoration of Stickley’s home and the Barnes-Hiscock mansion, with their remarkable craftsmanship and design, give Syracuse the ability to carve out its own nationally significant story when it comes to architectural heritage. The question that remains is whether enough people in Syracuse will get behind these restoration efforts with their own time and/or money so that, as a community, they can embark on a broad approach and begin preserving other sites like the Oakwood Mortuary Chapel. There may not seem to be immediate practical reasons for doing so but there may be a long term one. 

Home for Theodore Dissel

Without a doubt, the largest and most elaborate mansion designed by J. L. Silsbee on Syracuse's James Street was the home for Theodore Dissel. 

By the time work started on the home, in 1879, Silsbee had established himself as a gifted home designer with a series of homes in the Queen Anne Style. The Dissel home was viewed as unique in its day because it was his first grand home in this style that was made of brick and used terra cotta, instead of stone, for much of its detailing. It was also huge, rivaling many of the other mansions already constructed on the street. The home is no longer standing but we know enough about it and have enough imagery to piece together what it was like. 

The rooms on the first floor were organized around a large central hall with a two-story staircase lit by windows with art glass. The two primary rooms on this floor were the Library and Dining Room. Both were finished in cherry and had elaborate wood detailing and built-ins. A huge veranda extended around the south and west sides of the home, from which could be seen dramatic views of downtown and the Onondaga Valley. On the northwest corner of the home was a large glass conservatory that had direct access from the dining room, inside the home.  

As it was the most picturesque and lavish street in the city, the Detroit Publishing Company took several photographs of James Street and several are concentrated on what is currently the 800 block. One of these, the the Library of Congress Collection, shows a view looking west, towards downtown and you can see the the W. Snowden Smith Residence and Dissel Residence on the right-hand side. The Smith home was a unique Swiss Chalet style home designed by Cincinnati architects Nash & Plympton in 1890.    

The overall view gives you an idea of the kind of landscape that these homes sat in and the detail of the photographs allows you to see some elements of the architecture that are missed in other photos. Though you don't get a good idea of the overall appearance of the Dissel home, you can see how the brick surface came alive with banding, ornament and brick patterning. One element that I was immediately struck by was the elaborate roof line and unique flower-like elements capping the corners of the roof cresting. 

 Theodore Dissel was in business with clothier, Alonzo Yates. They formed A. C. Yates & Co. in 1877. Yates passed away in 1880 and Dissel formed a partnership with Jacob Martens. He continued his business at the corner of Franklin and Water Streets until his death in 1888. Sadly, he didn't have many years in his opulent mansion.

Dissel was a conspicuous art collector and patron of the arts. He was on the board of the Syracuse Arts Club. His home was home to a large collection of paintings and was host to arts fundraisers and lectures. His home was demolished in 1972. Below is an image of the home from the Harley McKee collection at Syracuse University that appeared in a thesis by Thomas Pulfer from 1980 alongside an image of the site today.      

Home for Charles L. Amos

In keeping with the theme I started last week, I wanted to talk about a home that is more modest than the Howard Residence and show how these smaller homes present a particular problem of research all their own.

It is relatively easy to find archival information for the larger mansions that Silsbee or his contemporaries designed.  These homes hosted many large social gatherings that were covered in all of the society columns.  The finest of these homes were also often featured in architectural journals.  The average cost of these larger homes was between $25,000 and $50,000 in their day.  To place that in comparison, an average working-class home could be constructed for several hundred dollars.  These small homes were built with little or no press and even significant homes that cost under $10,000 were built with very little fanfare.  Many of these lesser works eluded previous Silsbee researchers and would be practically impossible to uncover without the use of modern newspaper archives and other online tools.  Since many of them were also demolished, they remain the most elusive part of almost any 19^th Century architect’s catalog.

By 1879, J. L. Silsbee was a highly regarded architect in Syracuse’s.  He had already designed the largest business blocks in the city and he had two of the largest homes in the city under contract.   In July of that year, local newspapers were lauding his numerous “novel” and “modern” structures that were under construction and each new structure seemed to be a breath of fresh air on the Syracuse landscape.  It was in this climate and time that Silsbee was asked to design a home for mill owner Charles Amos. 

Jacob Amos Sr. emigrated from Germany and eventually found work as a salt boiler in Syracuse.  In 1863, he purchased several stores on Water Street in that city and started a flour mill known as the Empire State Mills and later Jacob Amos and Sons.  He had two sons.  One, Jacob Jr., was born in 1854 and later worked in the Baldwinsville locale of the family business.  He would eventually become a mayor of the City Syracuse.  The other was Charles.  He was born in 1848 and eventually worked directly with his father at Syracuse mills.  The Amos family hired Joseph Silsbee to design a warehouse and dry goods store for the company, 1878.  That building still stands today. 

Many guidebooks and local lore attribute the awarding of that commission by Jacob Jr. but it is likely that Jacob Sr. or even more likely that Charles was responsible for hiring Silsbee.  Though it is enticing to include a former Syracuse mayor in connection with the Amos Block story, Jacob Jr. would have been the youngest member of the family company and was likely busy with family business in Baldwinsville. Charles Amos was in charge of the Empire Mills in Syracuse and he and Joseph Silsbee were the same age.  Furthermore, reports in society columns in the mid 1870’s place them in the same social circles and in at least two instances they were working together at charitable events.     

Though the Amos family was wealthy and one of the leading industrial families in Syracuse, the home that Charles commissioned was relatively inexpensive.  He was a junior member of the company and much of the wealth was still held by the family patron.  Charles spent approximately $5,000 on his West Genesee Street home but it seemed to be spent wisely.  When compared to typical homes in the city, it was still quite large.  Accounts note that Charles was building a “fine modern dwelling” and go on to state that it will be “following the new American idea, to build solid and strong.”

The home is no longer standing and no photographs of it exist.  The only image of the home that I have been able to find is a rudimentary sketch made in 1887.  The descriptions of the home given in contemporary accounts during its construction are also brief but they do give us some insight into why Silsbee’s architecture was so popular.  The structure was made of brick and had molded brick trim and ornament.  Brick work on the structure was completed by local mason, Patrick Naylon.  It was two stories tall with a third story beneath a steep roof.  This feature was considered “modern” and would have been seen as a striking architectural departure when compared with the Greek Temple and Italianate Villa forms that had dominated the residential landscape for so long.  The dramatic pointed roof of the Amos home was clad in slate and was considered “quite fashionable”.  The street front of the home had a two-story bay topped with a recessed arched balcony, a common Silsbee motif that opened from the third floor attic space.

The shape of the roof was also seen as a significant functional improvement in home construction and the article about Charles Amos’ home provides some insight into its design and use.  Many of these homes required large open entertaining spaces and the area beneath the roof, uninterrupted by room partitions, was the perfect place for large numbers of guests.  When not used as such, they provided ample storage space or apartments for domestic workers.  Furthermore, in the snowy Syracuse climate, it alleviated the problem of accumulating snow and ice that the shallow roofs of earlier homes seemed to have.  In warmer months, it also served to insulate the lower floors of the home, holding and venting out the warm air that accumulated there.  Earlier homes, with shallow roofs close to the habitable spaces, would transmit that heat directly into the home making them warm and stuffy.

We know very little of the interior of the home but we do know that it was wainscoted throughout in oiled Georgia Pine and each room had hardwood floors.  From the sketch of the home, we can also tell that there was an ample staircase that was well lit by a large two-story window that faced west.  The home likely had many interesting features and details but because of the nature of the commission and the evidence that we have about it, these elements will likely remain a mystery.  The home was completed and occupied in early 1880.  Unfortunately, Charles did not enjoy the home very long as he died there after a long illness in 1887.

It is hard to determine the number of these smaller, less expensive, commissions because I don’t believe we will ever locate them all.  It is likely that they comprised a majority of the practice of architects like Silsbee.  When studying architecture, it is tempting to only examine the larger, more elaborate, masterworks.  While doing so, it is also important to remember that lesser known structures often contain as much thoughtfulness and innovation as the prominent ones.

Madison Avenue Reformed Church

Before he was known in Chicago, Joseph Silsbee's work had gained notoriety across New York State.  His notoriety spread east in the late 1870's with a series of commissions around the state's capitol.  The largest and most notable of these was the Madison Avenue Reformed Church, also known as the Second Dutch Reformed Church.  The cornerstone was laid on the Romanesque structure in July of 1879 and was complete, except for it's tower, in 1881.    

The church was demolished after a fire in the 1930's and only exterior photographs and images are readily available.  Newspaper accounts recall a highly colored vestibule with complimentary brick, tile and art glass with coordinated colors throughout the church.  Carved cherry wainscoting surrounded the main auditorium area, a large open space free of columns.  The seats were arranged in a horseshoe shape.  In the rear of the church, meeting and school rooms were located.        

The exterior of the church was made of grey limestone with granite trim and columns.  Weather vane, foundation stones and pulpit were some of the materials that were moved from the old Dutch church to this structure when it was constructed.  When designed, the bell tower was to be the tallest point in the city of Albany at the time.  Silsbee earned the commission partly on the strength of his design for Syracuse's First Reformed Church, completed a year earlier, and partly through a reference from good friend and influential president of Cornell University, Andrew Dickson White.  

Oakwood Mortuary Chapel and Horatio N. May Memorial Chapel

The first entry is devoted to two unique buildings that Silsbee designed 20 years apart.  They are both mortuary chapels.  One is in Syracuse, NY and the other is in Chicago, IL.

The Oakwood Mortuary Chapel was constructed in Syracuse's Oakwood cemetery in 1879.  It is a very early example of the building type.  The structure is currently vacant, a shell of it's former life as the heart of activity in one of the most remarkable rural cemeteries in the country.

The May Memorial Chapel was commissioned by Anna May in memory of her husband, Horatio N. May.  The structure is a hidden gem with elaborate wood trusses, floor and ceiling mosaics and Grueby Faience tile interiors.  It is still in use by Rosehill Cemetery.

It is evident when seeing the buildings together how this building type developed and how Silsbee's personal style matured over time.

Side view of both chapels.

View of front and porte-cochere.

View of inside ceiling of porte-cochere.

View of rear of building from the receiving vault.