St. Louis Place itself, a long skinny park in the neighborhood that bears its name, is a jewel that has become tarnished. What could literally be the "town green" of a small town is overgrown, its private and public institutions largely forgotten.
This church, which if I remember correctly is Lutheran, is one example of the architecture that should be drawing people to the neighborhood.
Alas, it sits across the street from the oddest circle of asphalt in the city, seen here.
These two pictures were taken in the netherworld in between the railroad tracks south of downtown and west of I-55. What's left of this neighborhood is beautiful, and it makes one wonder how much more was here before it was demolished.
St. Louis Ave is a strange street; if you look at the street grid you can see that over the course of its length through most of North St. Louis that it is actually a series of older streets that were combined together to form one continuous artery, of sorts.
What has always amazed me about this street is that its architecture is very similar to its more famous cousin, Lafayette Square to the south. I think the portion in St. Louis Place dates from about the same time, looking at the old lithograph of the city at the Missouri Historical Society.
Nut what is truly amazing is the difference in prices from Lafayette Square and the North Side. You can literally pay an extra million dollars for houses in the South Side that are identical to much cheaper ones up north.
I am still amazed that the streetscape is so well maintained along this street. Check out an aerial view here.
St. Louis Ave passing through St. Louis Place is one of the most unique streets in the city, and one of the most valuable architecturally. Luckily, most houses seem occupied, including this stout example of a hybridization of several styles.
Above is the gate to Portland Place, which is just north of Westmoreland Place. You get to it the same way as Westmoreland Place by going up Lake Avenue from Lindell. Watch out for the rent-a-cop.
I like these pictures that I took through the gates of the private streets, very intrusive in a way; I imagine if the residents could they would block the views entirely. I guess I need to get my parents to drive me around inside with their Benz.
What is most interesting is the varied styles of architecture that occur on these streets, from Tudor Revival (not my favorite) to Renaissance Revival, Gothic Revival and even Beaux-Arts Gilded Age Neo-Classicism.
Here are a few pictures of Hortense Place, or as I call, Pretense Place, that sits to the east of Kingshighway.
I'll never forget that wonderful day on my birthday when I was showing my friend Ruth from Baltimore around the city. She is a fellow art historian, so we were enjoying our sojourn around the city. Driving down Lindell Boulevard, I decided to hang a right on Lake Street and show her Westmoreland Place, one of the toniest private streets in the city. Hey, I'd done it a million times with my parents in their Mercedes Benz.
To put it bluntly, trying to drive a Chevy Cavalier with Maryland tags down Westmoreland Place is not a good idea. A rent-a-cop appeared out of nowhere and angrily demanded the reason behind our presence in such august surroundings. I stammered that I was taking my friend home, at which he requested the address. My BS skills were lacking that day, so I was bereft of my usual quick lies that I am so good at in difficult situations. He told us to turn around and leave, which I did.
The gates to Westmoreland Place are always locked now, and you can see them along Kingshighway. Quite frankly, the private streets in this area are hardly a quiet enclave anymore, beset at one time by housing projects to the north and the loud, thumping stereos of locals--not to mention that constant roar of traffic from the busiest north-south thoroughfare in the city.
It's fascinating to see how the stone has slowly deteriorated over the years.
The building above is a great example of a Mansard roofed store front with some funky 1950's fake stone added to it. Below is what should not happen to a major intersection; parking has replaced a business. There's plenty of street parking in the area, I assure you.
Another corner seems to have adopted the fake stone decades ago to update their storefront.
Below, an essentially dead corner due to the presence of a completely vacant parking lot.
And finally, a storefront that once perhaps served churchgoers that streamed out for lunch on Sunday afternoon, much as Amighetti's is still packed on the weekend. The demotion of the church from parish status does little to help the intersection.
My favorite church in the whole city after St. Augustine on the North Side is St. Francis de Sales, anchoring a corner of Gravois and Ohio for the last century.
It is no longer a parish church, but an oratory, from the Latin word to pray or speak.
For the life of me, I cannot figure out why the Archdiocese would end regular worship services at one of its principal churches while smaller parish churches remain open. Wouldn't you want to keep the most prominent parishes going?
Regardless, the church is a fantastic example of Gothic Revival architecture, and more specifically, it reminds me of northern German Gothic that is prominent in cities such as Cologne or Speyer.
The church is known as a hall church, which means that the aisles are deemphasized in favor of producing a long, central nave. It also has a transept, which perhaps shows its French influence as well.
They need a million dollars to fix the tower, apparently.
What is so wonderful about the church is that it defines the neighborhood, creating a visual anchor that can be seen from most of the South Side and creates a focal point for the area.
