It’s not a main street, but you know this feature can be somewhat elastic. I didn’t want to start the year with the usual small towns.
When I found this street, I was fascinated.
An Italian palazzo, of a sort. Once the windows glowed, suggesting the awesome power within. Unless the windows were always bricked, but I don't think so.
While modern buildings may eclipse this one for size and even bulk, old buildings seem bigger.
Dead storefronts. Who shopped here?
No, they're not storefronts. There aren't any doors. What was this place?
It was the warehouse for the Fisher Brothers.
Says the story linked above:
As always happened. Unless you were the gobbler.
The inheritors of these structures never seem to treat them with the reverence they deserve.
You have to recalibrate your perceptions when you finally see how big the door is.
I assume the adjacent building is also part of the Fisher complex. Why the slanting passageway?
To move goods up and/or down, I guess, but it seems as if they'd need more than one. You also get the sense of how industrial architecture changed. On the right: beauty is essential! On the left: eh, just build it.
The views have a certain rational charm, completely by accident.
Nearby, a modest, futuristic office building. I imagine a doctor in a white coat, studying his formulas, perhaps intent on contacting Mars by wireless.
If they thought putting glass blocks in the windows was somehow respectful of the original appeal, they were wrong.
Another grave block, its ordinary design enlivened by an ambitious entry way. The last gasp of classical ornamentation.
If you could go back in time, you might want to warn architects who liked big, broad windows. Look, they’re great. But really. Don’t bother.
You almost don’t notice where the windows used to be.
Looks ancient; I’d date the sign somewhere in the 20s.
“There’s really only need for one loading dock, ever again, until the end of time. We’ll never need more than one again.”
“Dammit, that’s the third time this year someone’s backed into the gott-damned glass block window. What am I going to do? What?”
“Could you . . . could you spell that again. Slowly.”
What did they do? This:
Easy for them to say.
The apartment building went into the witness protection program, but neighbors said it always kept to itself and seemed nervous about being recognized
“Not Kissing It” is an oddly effective political slogan, even if you don’t see the first "Kicking Ass" part.