PreservationNation

It seems like everyone’s talking about “the next High Line.” And why not? Who wouldn’t want to see the same wild success that the redevelopment of New York City’s abandoned elevated rail structure into a unique linear park has brought? What began as an unpopular – to the city, at least – preservation issue has now catapulted into one of the city’s top tourist and resident attractions and has sparked over $2 billion in surrounding private investment.

Miami Marine Stadium looking towards the city. (Photo: Vik Cuban on Flickr)

The Miami Marine Stadium, one of our 11 Most Endangered Historic Places in 2009, is one of those “next cool place” contenders. Built in 1963, the waterfront stadium has many of the same ingredients that the High Line had before getting its green makeover: passionate supporters, urban grit, awesome views, and a distinctive architectural foundation.

Looking up at the stands and the stadium’s iconic roofline. (Photo: Vik Cuban on Flickr)

But one of the biggest lessons from the adaptive reuse of the High Line is that it takes more than passion, interest, and big ideas to get massive projects like these off the ground. Unless 100% private funding falls into place, there has to be a marriage of public interest and public funding. Fortunately for Miami, that marriage is already producing results.

Significant work would need to be done to bring the stadium to any modern use. (Photo: Vik Cuban on Flickr)

This past weekend, The Miami Herald featured a story on Friends of the High Line founder Robert Hammond’s visit to Miami Marine Stadium and what needs to happen to bring this project to life:

Not coincidentally, Hammond’s visit came at a critical moment for the four-year-old marine stadium campaign, which has proceeded in fits and starts. Activists have succeeded in saving the 1963 structure from the wrecking ball, won historic landmark protection for it and generated worldwide admiration for its still-dazzling architecture and engineering.

Leaders of the nonprofit Friends group had hoped to also formally announce an agreement with the city granting the organization the right to undertake the stadium’s renovation, but that has been delayed amid disagreement over details of the deal.

Last year, stadium supporters were ready to walk away in frustration over what they said in a letter were “obstacles’’ imposed by the city, but they now say the deal should be approved soon by the city commission.

The agreement would give the Friends organization, an offshoot of Dade Heritage Trust, two years to raise an estimated $30 million to renovate the stadium, shuttered by the city in 1992 after it was damaged by Hurricane Andrew. Worth said the group has secured more than $10 million of that, including $3 million in public funds.

“The advocacy battle has been won, and we’re at the cusp of the next stage,’’ Friends co-founder Don Worth said. “Now we have to do it.’’

Read the full article “Can the Miami Marine Stadium become the next High Line phenom?” to learn more and see pictures of Hammond’s visit to the site.

David Garber is the blog editor at the National Trust for Historic Preservation.

Owners Sam Ratto and Chris Heavener inside the factory. (Photo: Chase Heavener)

Preservation is often defined as an action with an end date: the act of saving – through advocacy; policy; or blood, sweat, and tears restoration – places for future use, memory, and appreciation. But regardless of how it’s typically regarded, a more holistic ”preservation” doesn’t end when the paint dries. It’s just as much about moving into and using those old places as it is about saving or restoring them.

Enter Sam Ratto and Chris Heavener: two friends who decided to follow a dream and open Videri Chocolate Factory in a c. 1912 railroad depot in Raleigh’s warehouse district. They’re preservationists because they connected with the warmth of an old building in a changing neighborhood and decided to move in. Here’s their story.

The exterior of Videri’s space in the historic Depot building. (Photo: Chase Heavener)

How did you two meet and what inspired you to start an organic chocolate factory?

Chris: I’ve been publishing a literary and arts magazine for about five years now, but before that I worked at a wakeboarding magazine, which is where I met Sam. He worked for a shoe company that catered to the same industry. Whenever he would come to town for trade shows and events we’d always hang out. We shared a dissatisfaction for the limitations and ethos of the industry so we both got out of it around the same time.

Sam: When I moved to Raleigh in 2009 with my then-fiancée (now wife) Starr, we got jobs through a friend at a bean-to-bar chocolate factory here in town. Something lit up in my brain when I sat in front of a pile of beans that needed to be sorted. I began to do tons of research and applied that to making their chocolate taste better. I brought a lot of ideas to them about moving towards organic and fair trade chocolate, but they didn’t want to focus energy on that, so I left, looking to do something else. Chris came to me in February of 2011 and said, “You’re good at making chocolate and I think we can make a great, sustainable business.”

Sam sorting beans at the Videri factory. (Photo: Chase Heavener)

What is your favorite part of the chocolate making process?

Sam: My favorite part of chocolate making is the artistry you have to weave into the pure science of chocolate making – putting together a wonderful puzzle of flavor and consistency.

Chris: Eating it is obviously number one. But other than that I just like the opportunity to work at Sam’s side and help him out in the factory. It’s given me an appreciation of the artistry required to make great tasting chocolate.

Freshly-made chocolate. (Photo: Chase Heavener)

What businesses did you look to for inspiration when you were starting Videri?

Chris: There’s a great – and very successful – chocolate company out of Seattle called Theo that makes fantastic chocolate in an ethically responsible way. Sam and I both read Patagonia founder Yvon Chouinard’s book Let My People Go Surfing: The Education of a Reluctant Businessman – his is a good example of a company that makes quality products customers want while attempting to look out for the environment and their employees.

The logo, the building, and the beans. (Photo: Chase Heavener)

When you were choosing where to locate the chocolate factory, what type of space were you looking for?

Sam: When we were looking at spaces to start and grow our chocolate factory, we wanted a warehouse space that could accommodate the daily production of chocolate, but also have a warm, welcoming feel. When we saw the Depot building, it seemed to be a perfect combination.

Chris: We wanted a place customers and employees alike would want to spend time in. We looked at a few properties but nothing came close to the natural character and warmth of the Depot building.

Chris taking care of the scraps. (Photo: Chase Heavener)

Why was it important to be in that kind of space?

Sam: It is important to be in a warehouse-type building because it evokes craft and proper building techniques. This building was completed in 1912 and is still standing strong on its original foundation.

Chris: People who come into the space are much more than customers, they’re members of our community. We want to respect and honor that by providing a place to bring the family, a place to bring a date, a place to throw a party, a place where basically everyone is welcome. There’s something stale and subtly hostile about most modern utilitarian business buildings. The industrial era style of the Depot cultivated this feeling of possibility and imagination that’s hard to replicate.

Another view of the integrated signage. (Photo: Chase Heavener)

What does your space say about you, the company, and the chocolate?

Sam: This space says that we care about hard work and dedication to our beliefs of being a sustainable company. This space is welcoming and comforting, two very important things when it comes to chocolate.

Chris: It reflects our attention to detail, our respect for the processes that shaped the industry and our commitment to look to a future of conducting business in a manner healthy for the community and for the environment. The space suggests we’re making every effort to produce the best tasting chocolate in a responsible fashion.

The finished products. (Photo: Chase Heavener)

How do you hope to shape and be shaped by the area around you?

Chris: I hope the community embraces us as much as we’re attempting to embrace them. I’d love the company to be shaped by the needs and desires of the community. I’d love to be part of a discussion that makes us as beneficial to the Raleigh area as possible.

David Garber is the blog editor at the National Trust for Historic Preservation. He is eagerly awaiting his first shipment of Videri chocolate. Solely for research purposes, of course.

Gutting. It’s kind of a bad word in some preservation circles. But in the case of Lionel Lofts, most of the interior walls and surfaces weren’t original to the building: drywall, dropped ceilings, and carpet that would make me fear for my life if I walked on it barefoot.

As you can see … EXPOSED BRICK! Although in most cases exposed brick was never intended to be exposed, it’s a trend that adds warmth and character to building interiors and isn’t likely to go away any time soon. For capital H historic buildings, keep the plaster. For lofts in a cool-and-old-but-not-necessarily-historic-building on a hot restaurant corridor, exposing brick isn’t exactly a deal breaker.

Removing the plaster also exposed some 10-Commandments-shaped brick details in the walls (above). Anyone have an explanation for these? They don’t tie into anything on the inside, but don’t look like they were windows, either.

Demolition is a dusty job. But someone’s gotta do it. While wearing air purifying masks.

During an intensive demo such as this, spraying a mist of water over the debris is an effective way to minimize airborne particulate matter, AKA all the stuff I was breathing in since I wasn’t wearing a mask.

Goodbye, old pipes.

At this point you’re probably wondering: “Are they saving anything??” Yes, but not much. The floor joists, elaborate radiators, and things like cool old cast iron sinks are being salvaged. But otherwise, the interiors will be pretty much brand new. Inside the old exterior, of course.

Mid-way through demo on the second floor…

And almost done with demo on the second floor. Notice a difference in ceiling height?

I thought this was a neat juxtaposition of places where the exterior has been opened and closed over time. From left to right: original window, new(ish … very much ish) air conditioner unit, and old doorway, now bricked up.

As you can see above, the garage space is currently being used to sort and store demolition debris. Although the demo to this point has taken place only on the top two levels, hammers will hit the first floor retail space starting later this week.

David Garber is the blog editor at the National Trust for Historic Preservation. More information on this development project can be found on the Lionel Lofts website.