Three decorative metal signs reveal the history of Philly’s Brewerytown neighborhood | Inga Saffron

City Lights Brewing Co. in Milwaukee stands out among the city's burgeoning brewery scene, not just for its beer, but primarily for its architectural heritage. The brewery is housed within two buildings, with potential for a third, designed by the renowned architect Alexander Eschweiler. These Chicago red brick structures, located at 2200 W. Mount Vernon Ave. in the Menomonee Valley, were originally constructed in 1902 for the Milwaukee Gas Light Co., serving as the power company's west side plant. The complex includes a distinctive six-story octagonal tower, a familiar landmark to many Milwaukee residents. While one building currently hosts the Milwaukee Four Seasons Skatepark, the largest structure is home to Zimmerman Architectural Studios. The article details a visit to the brewery prior to its completion in 2016, guided by co-owner Jimmy Gohsman, offering a glimpse into the restoration and repurposing efforts. The Romanesque Revival plant was initially used for converting coal to natural gas for residential and industrial distribution. Decades later, Eschweiler was commissioned again by the company, then renamed Wisconsin Gas Co. in 1966 and eventually becoming part of We Energies, to design its Art Deco headquarters downtown. According to We Energies' Cathy Schulze, the plant operated through the 1930s, subsequently serving as a natural gas storage facility until its decommissioning in 1959. The former condensing building, situated to the north, is planned to accommodate City Lights' packaging operations and a small laboratory. This building will be connected to the tower building via a second-story skywalk, leading to a mezzanine overlooking the brewing area. This mezzanine will feature a tasting room with a patio downstairs, offering views of the Menomonee River, and an upper deck. During the 2016 visit, plans for the tower's five floors were on hold due to significant costs associated with constructing a fire escape, replacing existing staircases, and installing an elevator. Each floor of the tower is structurally similar, with the exception of the top floor, which boasts a unique wood plank octagonal ceiling. Several floors also feature double-door openings. Gohsman shared an anecdote from former tenants, suggesting that the structural steel supporting the roof originated from Carnegie’s mills, with one beam reportedly signed by Andrew Carnegie himself. The glazed subway tile throughout the building is believed to be from Tiffany, although efforts to locate a signature stamp were unsuccessful. While the tile is to be preserved, other elements required modification to meet current building codes. An old staircase with wood treads and brass rails had to be replaced, and a functional chain hoist, though permitted to remain, had its dangling chain removed due to safety regulations. The mezzanine was retained, but its railing required adjustments. Many bricked-up windows were slated for reopening, and some existing windows were to be converted into doors to provide access to the patio, deck, and skywalk. The article underscores the architectural beauty and historical significance of the renovated brewery space, presenting a series of photographs taken during the early stages of the project to illustrate these features. #BrewerySpelunking #CityLightsBrewing #AlexanderEschweiler #MilwaukeeArchitecture #MenomoneeValley #HistoricalBuildings #AdaptiveReuse #IndustrialHeritage #UrbanExploration

Peter Vogel, a graphic designer based in Houston and founder of Nutmegger Workshop, specializes in creating new-vintage signs primarily for interior design applications. With over 35 years of experience in graphic design and advertising, Vogel transitioned from traditional typesetting and letterpress to digital design with the advent of the Macintosh. His career path led him through various agencies and design shops, culminating in two decades as a creative director focused on print design in Phoenix and Portland, Oregon, before moving to his current role at a small law college in Houston. His passion for design and craftsmanship is now channeled into his Nutmegger Workshop, where he produces signs that evoke a sense of history and nostalgia. Vogel's journey into sign making began after he created an 11-foot sign commemorating a trip to New England. This piece garnered interest from friends, leading him to realize a demand for authentic-looking vintage signs. He clarified that his goal is not to create exact reproductions, but rather interpretations that remind people of places they've visited, dreams they hold, or even random objects that could be flea market finds, such as a 'Loading Dock' sign. He frequently collaborates with clients to commemorate family businesses, designing signs that capture their history even without existing logos or photographs. For instance, he recently designed a sign for a client whose late father started a saddle factory in Texas, crafting an original piece that felt historically authentic. VHe consciously avoids projects that lean towards generic commercialism, such as 'man cave' signs, children's room decor, or designs resembling mass-produced items found in large retail stores. His work focuses on crafting pieces with rich texture and color that encapsulate the essence of places and memories, intending to preserve what is most meaningful to his clients. He believes this endeavor is deeply ingrained in his personal identity and artistic drive. Vogel's creative process is meticulous, emphasizing research and period detail, which is crucial given his clientele often includes interior designers, architects, and creative firms. He ensures historical accuracy in his designs, citing an example of a sign for 'Auberge Jules,' where he consulted the French Alliance in Houston for linguistic precision. While he initially received feedback on an incorrect accent mark in his tagline, highlighting his commitment to authenticity, he swiftly corrected the digital representation and planned to amend the physical sign. His inspirations are often drawn from century-old photographs of city street scenes found on sites like Shorpy.com, which allow him to study historical sign writing, letterforms, and construction details. All designs are developed in Adobe Illustrator, where he avoids common computer fonts, preferring to use letters sourced from scanned pages of old sign writers' books and personal collections of sign photographs. He employs hand-cut stencils for painting, a method that, while efficient, sometimes elicits purist feedback from traditional sign writers. For materials, he uses construction-grade boards and latex paint, which facilitates his unique aging techniques—a process he developed over time and keeps proprietary due to its complexity. His experience in house painting and antique refinishing provides a deep understanding of how surfaces age naturally, allowing him to achieve believable patinas. Despite having his designs used as inspiration for television shows, including one in Australia, Vogel has never actively pursued prop work. While his primary focus is on interior signs, he has created some outdoor pieces, such as for a barn and a driveway lamp post, using weather-resistant materials like exterior house paint and MDO board. These outdoor projects, however, often move away from his core mission of creating aged, character-filled pieces. Each sign requires 6-8 weeks for completion, encompassing milling, distressing, priming, painting, stencil cutting, lettering, antiquing, and finishing. Although he was once known for his expertise in typography, he has not designed typefaces, acknowledging the proliferation of talented independent type designers. His current favorite pieces are often his latest creations, especially personal projects that honor his ancestry or evoke the "golden age" of dining and oceanic travel. Vogel continues to evolve his craft, incorporating dimensional lettering, old gold, smalts, and convexed signboards, while also aspiring to create a large, hand-carved whale for wall display. This ongoing dedication to his workshop serves as his primary creative outlet. #VintageSigns #InteriorDesign #GraphicDesign #NutmeggerWorkshop #PeterVogel #HandcraftedSigns #TraditionalCraftsmanship #AgingTechniques #CustomSignage

This article explores three distinct architectural projects that creatively utilize corrugated metal as a primary facade material, each demonstrating its versatility and aesthetic potential across different building types and environments. The first project, "True North" in Detroit by EC3, transforms a vacant lot near the city center into a vibrant residential and work district. This community-based development features eight Quonset huts, an innovative and dynamic ensemble that offers adaptable spaces for living and working. The design emphasizes modularity and industrial aesthetics, integrating well within an urban revitalization context. The architects aimed to create a flexible environment that fosters community engagement and injects new life into the urban fabric of Detroit. The project serves as an example of how unconventional structures can be repurposed and designed to meet contemporary urban housing and workspace needs, showcasing the economic and structural advantages of corrugated metal in rapid construction and creative reuse. The second project, "East Street Exchange" in Walworth, London, designed by the architectural practice We Made That, is an extension to a library that stands out with its striking red corrugated iron facade. This extension functions as a 'red lighthouse,' creating new community rooms and acting as a prominent civic landmark. The choice of a bold color and material contributes to its distinct identity and visibility, making it a focal point within the neighborhood. The project illustrates how a simple, cost-effective material like corrugated metal can be used to achieve a strong visual statement and provide functional, inviting spaces for public use. The design focuses on enhancing public services and fostering community interaction, demonstrating an innovative approach to urban infill and public building design. The third project, "Yellow House" by Alejandro Soffia, is located in the dense Chilean forest and addresses the increasing demand for dwelling places through a replicable and efficient construction method. This 100-square-meter private residence is constructed from pre-fabricated Structural Insulated Panel (SIP) elements, covered with a corrugated metal exterior. Soffia views this project as a model for delivering high-quality housing swiftly and affordably in the future. The house is designed to blend with its natural surroundings while providing breathtaking views, proving that pre-fabrication and corrugated metal can result in both aesthetic appeal and environmental responsiveness. The project highlights sustainable building practices and offers a solution for expanding housing availability in challenging environments, using materials that offer durability and ease of assembly. Each of these projects underscores the adaptability of corrugated metal facades, moving beyond their traditional industrial connotations to create visually impactful and functionally diverse architectural solutions in urban and natural settings. #CorrugatedMetal #FacadeDesign #UrbanDevelopment #CommunityArchitecture #PrefabricatedHousing #ArchitecturalInnovation #ResidentialDesign #PublicBuildings #SustainableArchitecture

Philadelphia's identity is deeply intertwined with brick, a material so ubiquitous that its significance is often overlooked. The city's foundation in 1683 by William Penn, following the Great Fire of London, emphasized brick construction for safety, a practice that quickly took root. Philadelphia was uniquely positioned for brick production due to vast geological deposits of clay, formed over millennia from glaciofluvial sediments of the Delaware River. Early colonial brickmaking involved simple processes: mixing clay, water, and dried grass in a 'ring pit,' hand-pressing into molds, air-drying, and then firing in kilns. These early bricks, though made from drab gray clay, transformed into the characteristic orangish-red seen in historic structures like Elfreth's Alley and Independence Hall. Colonial walls often featured a Flemish bond, with headers frequently blackened by fire or glaze. As Philadelphia expanded, so did its brick industry. The 19th century saw dramatic increases in production, with up to 50 brickyards employing thousands and producing over 200 million bricks annually. Technological advancements in kilns led to hotter, more consistent firing, which caused iron molecules in the clay to form ferrous oxide, imparting deeper, burgundy hues. This distinct color became a hallmark of 19th-century Philadelphia brick, exemplified in buildings like the Academy of Music and numerous rowhouses. The quality of Philadelphia brick garnered national acclaim, with contemporaries comparing its color to "Philadelphia golden butter" and brickmakers elsewhere using it as a benchmark for excellence. Its desirability even led to fanciful claims of gold content, further enhancing its mystique. Philadelphia brick was exported widely, particularly to New York City, where the absence of local clay deposits made imported bricks essential. Elegant homes and significant structures in Brooklyn and Manhattan, such as The Benedick and the Temple Court building, proudly featured Philadelphia brick. Its reach extended even further to cities like Los Angeles and Pensacola, Florida, where it was celebrated for its contribution to architectural beauty. Beyond aesthetics, the appeal of Philadelphia brick stemmed from its craftsmanship. Philadelphia's brickmakers maintained a strong tradition of hand labor, even as industrialization advanced. This preference for handmade bricks was valued for their superior quality and aligned with the architectural philosophies of figures like John Ruskin, who championed handcraft as an expression of the worker's freedom and inherent imperfections as integral to beauty. Frank Furness, a prominent late 19th-century Philadelphia architect, masterfully utilized the city's bricks in his Ruskinian Gothic designs. His buildings, like the Fisher Fine Arts Library at the University of Pennsylvania, blended Victorian technology with traditional masonry, celebrating the city's industry and a unique blend of culture and nature. However, the architectural tastes shifted dramatically after the 1893 Chicago Columbian Exposition, ushering in an era of neoclassical preference where white stone facades superseded brick. Furness's industrial realism fell out of favor, and his library was disparaged, leading to neglect and even threats of demolition. The term "Philadelphia brick" likewise faded from prominence as the local industry declined. Despite this "fall," a "rise" began in the mid-20th century. Figures like Denise Scott Brown defended Furness's library, and Robert Venturi's *Complexity and Contradiction in Architecture* sparked renewed interest in overlooked architectural styles, including Furness's work. A significant restoration of the Fisher Fine Arts Library in the early 1990s, led by Venturi Scott Brown, revealed its "flaming rust brick and terra-cotta arches" and transformed it into a beloved landmark. Today, the library stands as a testament to the enduring value of Philadelphia brick, a local material that embodies the city's industrial, geological, and cultural heritage, celebrating human creativity and craftsmanship embedded within its very fabric. #PhiladelphiaBrick #ArchitecturalHistory #FrankFurness #BuildingMaterials #UrbanDevelopment #Craftsmanship #VictorianArchitecture #IndustrialHistory