Carroll Slater Sifly Piazza is how you get from the parking lot elevators to the entrance of Atlanta's High Museum. It has some cool sculptures but it's mostly a place to get through.
In daylight I sense something remarkable about it, work by Mr. Meier and Mr. Piano. But really, there's a whole museum to see and I just paid ten bucks to park. Who has time for the piazza?
What if you could see it at night with 8 giant projections? Well you can this Thursday.
I won't promise you'll enjoy it. But I was there for the first performance so I'll give you some hints.
It's not the least bit vulgar.
It's like home movies set to ambient music.
After a while it feels like home movies of your own family.
There are 8 screens but you can't see it all.
The visuals include the museum and folks who are doing something else.
You can ride your bike right up there.
They should have a bar but it's not cheap.
You don't have to be quiet.
You should move around but you can sit, and you can lay on the grass.
The curvy steel mesh chairs were made by the devil himself, so grab the other chairs if you can.
When you see this, it's starting over. Stay and see it again. It hit me differently the 2nd time, and the 3rd. It hit me harder after I got home.
Prepare for a visual feast. I'm sure Mr. Meier and Mr. Piano would be pleased.
You might find the tall, bearded Micah Stansell himself.
Mini-Mini-Review This isn't movie-movie. In the heart of Atlanta's highest culture. I connected with folks in their rural work-a-day world. I felt wistful, nostalgic, sentimental. It's staying in my head. I'm going back. The Architecture Tourist experienced the piazza in it's most activated state. On Thursday, I'm going to pay more attention.
I'm going to study up on Atlanta's piazzas. But that's another blog post.
These still "class up the joint." One now serves as a Y.W.C.A. after almost 70 years as a church. The other two are abandoned for now.
Architecture tourists can learn something from these. But as your know-nothing host, I can only ask questions.
Are there similar buildings in the Atlanta area? What are the precedents for buildings like these? Where do public landmarks belong?
This quote from Jane Jacobs rings true to me, a partial explanation of why some of our streets are beloved while others are bores.
"Most landmarks and focal points in cities - of which we need more, not fewer - come from the contrast of use radically different from its surroundings, and therefore inherently special-looking, happily located to make some drama and contrast of the inherent difference ... noble buildings ... set within the matrix of the city, instead being sorted out and withdrawn into 'courts of honor'"- Page 228, ”The Death and Life of Great American Cities” - Jane Jacobs, Vintage Books Edition 1991
The 1930 Lizzie Chapel in Inman Park is the least detailed. Though abandoned and surrounded by many of Atlanta's best Victorians, I like it every time.
Broad shoulders, ionic columns in antis, pediment, attic story. I can imagine the life this added on Sundays, and Wednesdays, and for big Saturday weddings in it's heyday.
The arms if the "I" aren't pronounced but there they are. The pilasters suggest another recessed portico.
The 1924 First Associate Reformed Prebyterian Church was re-purposed as the Northeast Intown YWCA in 1991. It's active 7 days a week. (Re-purposed churches from SacredPlaces.org).
Columns in antis, massive entablature, a suggestion of a gable, fine steps for people watching. I think Highland Avenue strollers get a boost every time they pass. I do.
The 1926 Crum & Forster Building by Atlanta architects, Ed Ivey and Lewis Crook was an office building. It's abandoned, owned by Georgia Tech, and at risk.
The details are Italian rather than Greek but the portico and the "I" are there.
I think this is a fine building but I haven't fallen in love with it. How well does it serve as a public landmark?
I doubled back so I could introduce myself and see the work.
It was about 4pm and it was hot, he was camped out in the shade. Charles said he was struggling to capture the light, the colors and textures in the light.
He was doing far better at it than my camera.
Our portrait model is from 1930, 82 years old. Pelham houses look like this. They aren't big but a bit bigger than average for Morningside. Most were around 2,500 square feet when built.
I've driven past hundreds of time. It wasn't until I stopped and looked over Charles's shoulder that I looked closely.
I noticed the door was open. I knocked, poked my head inside, and they let me have a lo0k.
"Known affectionately and inexplicably to Inman Park residents as Lizzie Chapel, this vacant church on the eastern corner of where Druid Circle meets Euclid Avenue was built in 1930 for the Atlanta Gospel Tabernacle. The parking lot once held the Inman Park Presbyterian Church, where Inman Park founders such as the Kings, Hales, and the Hurts attended" - p 67, Inman Park (Images of America: Georgia) by Christine V. Marr and Sharon Foster Jones
I've been driving by the intersections of Euclid, Edgewood, Delta, and Druid Circle forever. I've been hoping to see inside.
Though it's in the midst of restored "grand dame" Victorian houses, Lizzie Chapel - even gone to seed - still holds its own.
It's welcoming in a way no private house can be.
And if it's raining, we can duck under the portico.
You can see this yellow dame from the parking lot. Makes me want to live in the parking lot
I talked with Carolyn at the Atlanta Preservation Center. She said a congregation met there as late as 2005. She thought it had burned twice, the windows aren't original nor were the insides.
There is a Lizzie Chapel in Macon: The Lizzie Chapel Baptist Church, and it's still going strong. And there was a Lizzie Denton:
"In 1892 a group of believers attending Bloomfield Baptist Church in Macon became interested in starting their own church. They began praying for God to show them where the church should be built. One of these believers, Mrs. Lizzie Denton, had a dream where God showed her that the church should be located at Bartlett and Berry Streets." Reflections Church History
I wonder if the Macon Lizzie Chapel is the mother church of ours in Inman Park.
Time to head inside.
The pews are gone. Original or not the windows are beautiful.
The space is in mid restoration. Why, I don't know. It won't be a church again. Too bad I think.
It's freshly painted waiting for finishing touches.
This is the view from the choir about noon.
Ample balcony, no hiding from the preacher up here.
The windows are minimal but big.
I wouldn't call this minimal, exactly.
The baptismal looks relatively new. Is this a fire repair?
"...parts of it burned, and Inman Park neighbors helped restore it. I can't remember when that was, but it was "modern" times - like the 1980s - my best guess." - Sharon Foster Jones
Sharon sent me this post card from between 1930 and 1945.
It is the very same church. In fact they still have a member who attended in Inman Park. Maybe we can find out where Lizzie came from.
Their history in Atlanta dates back to 1899. They built their Inman Park church in 1930 as the Atlanta Baptist Tabernacle after the former Tabernacle on Capital Avenue burned.
They moved from Inman Park to their new Druid Hills church in 1964.
They know nothing about the Lizzie Chapel name. That must have come after they left the building.
I couldn't see the cornerstone very well. What I can see is confusing. It's discouraging that someone removed several names. I know the Pharaohs did that sort of thing.
The First Alliance Church folks told me they'd been contacted recently because developers were considering tearing Lizzie down.
But tearing it down will be tough for many reasons.
It's a contributing property "...any building, structure, or object which adds to the historical integrity or architectural qualities that make the historic district, listed locally or federally, significant."
Developers are trying to re-purpose it to residential. It's certainly a challenging project.
I wanted to see inside and got more than I bargained for.
It's raised enough questions for many more blog posts.
