Buildings knocked down in the Rice Village for Sonoma. Plus demolition in Greenview Manor moves north. See the address listings in our daily report, after the jump.
More industrial buildings along Studemont come down. See the addresses where the carnage continues—after the jump.
Ten knock-em-down homes and one gotta-tear-it-out before you build-it-bigger museum, in today’s list of demolition permits. Addresses are listed after the jump.
More homes around the city turn to dust. Plus a baker’s dozen demolitions in Greenview Manor—all after the jump.
An all-residential edition of the demo report begins after the jump.
The Doyle Mansion gets its dismissal papers. Plus a Riverside Terrace teardown (you’re looking at it) and nine more homes say goodbye—all in today’s report.
The movement to rid the Heights of dilapidated old houses and replace them with far more appropriate historic structures continues. The latest contribution: a demolition permit obtained for the Doyle Mansion at 945 Heights Blvd., which was built by William Wilson (who later founded neighboring Woodland Heights) in 1898, and which somehow managed to sneak onto the National Register of Historic Places about 100 years later.
Harry James has been buying properties all along Heights Boulevard, tearing down homes and replacing them with what he calls “Victorian Classics.”
And now it will happen to the Doyle Mansion too.
A “Preservation Alert” notice sent out by Historic Houston’s Lynn Edmundson reveals a meeting with James last week didn’t go so well:
Despite its deteriorated condition, it is architecturally and historically a very significant residence on Heights Boulevard that could and should be saved.
Unfortunately, the builder now appears unwilling to entertain any offers.
James features several Victorian Classics (the new kind) on his website, along with a childhood story that reveals something preservationists won’t want to hear: the homebuilder doesn’t mind getting his ass kicked if it means he gets to build what he wants:
Needless to say, my dad wasn’t very happy! I remember he gave me a gentle kick across my backside as I scurried back to the house with my head hung down. It seemed like he was mad at me for months. Years later, when I reflect, I realize that what my dad failed to see was the level of skill and craftsmanship that was used in the construction of this secret door into his garage.
Photo of 442 Heights Blvd.: Harry James Building & Design
Twenty doomed structures today. Say goodbye to them—after the jump.
A modernist classic gets its dust-conversion approval. That and other building-retirement news in today’s report, which begins after the jump.
More of an end to Greenview Manor, plus other exciting demolitions . . . after the jump.
Commenting on an article describing plans for a 40-unit condo building on the site of the former Ashland Tea House in the Heights, with another 40 townhouses and “garden villas” to be sprinkled around it later, Chronicle blogger Martin Hajovsky writes:
I remember when the Ashland Tea House, the McDonald Home, was demolished in 2005, the plan at the time was for a Victorian-themed restaurant to go there. The mere idea that someone would tear down a Victorian-themed restaurant to build a Victorian-themed restaurant struck me as the height of irony.
That memory came back reading the article because there’s a beautiful old magnolia on that site right now. It’s a perfect example of the species. Wonderful, fragrant, old and stately. If that tree survives the building of the “Magnolia Lofts,” it would be a miracle. Once again, irony triumphs.
Construction is expected to begin in August or September. The Magnolia Lofts will feature a tiny ground-floor commercial space—at 750 sf, even smaller than the average condo size of 900 sf—and two stories of parking, one of which the article describes as
“partially submerged” so the building would only appear to be five stories tall.
Maybe the developers should claim that the bottom level of parking is really at a normal level—although it’s underground, it is in the Heights.
Architect Tim Cisneros’s vague storybook sketch of the facade, though, has aroused the ire of Heights resident Mark White:
“While the description provided by the architect sounds like the building’s proposed style is in keeping with the Victorian-era architecture of the Heights, the initial drawings suggest a more ‘updated’ factory-turned-condo facade,” he said. “We would ask that the developer consider making a few changes to the style to make it more consistent with the architecture of the time period represented by the Heights neighborhood.”
By our estimate, that time period would be approximately 1891 to 2007, with the average construction date moving toward the present at a pretty steady clip.
Six houses prepare for their new lives in a landfill. The list begins after the jump.
Fourteen soon to be forgotten houses have a date with destruction. Our list begins after the jump.
A Heights institution falls. That and more in our daily list of demolition permits—after the jump.
On today’s knock-down docket: Portions of four businesses and six houses. Read ’em and weep—after the jump.
