Protective Guidelines Threaten Historic Areas

When we recently proposed exterior changes to our house -- which is in a historic district -- to Richmond's Commission of Architectural Review, the last thing we expected to hear was, "No, you can't do that. The changes appear too authentic. People will mistake them for the original and think they've always been there."

The response stunned us. Until, that is, we surveyed the large number of recent alien intrusions onto the city's historic landscape. How did they get there? Ironically, the review boards created to protect historic districts were doing just the opposite in many cases by requiring that architectural changes and new construction reflect the present and not the past. While we successfully appealed our case to the City Council, an urgent challenge remains: How do we best preserve historic buildings and neighborhoods when regulatory bodies require us to rebuff history?

In Richmond, evidence is growing that historic guidelines are eroding the character they were intended to protect. A generic modern fence here; a bland condo there. It doesn't seem like much until you look at the cumulative effect of incompatible contemporary architecture on the surrounding historic neighborhood. Within walking distance of St. John's Church -- a landmark of national importance -- we see new suburban-style row houses with overhead garage doors, a condo with cantilevered roofing, and a bracingly synthetic, pseudo-Alpine retreat better suited to a can of Swiss Miss cocoa than one of our nation's most significant neighborhoods.

At the crux of the problem is the secretary of the interior's Standards of Rehabilitation and its accompanying guidelines, which may have been interpreted for the past three decades more rigidly than their authors intended. The priority attached to one principle in particular -- differentiating architecturally between what is historic and what is new -- has led many bureaucrats and review boards to deny traditional design solutions and require instead dumbed-down contemporary ones, even when they are incompatible with their historic settings.

But to whom must this differentiation be obvious? An art history professor? The cable guy? Wouldn't it be better for the historic neighborhood if these design changes were subtle and inconspicuous? This argument over compatibility versus differentiation is not unique to Richmond; it is a source of hot debate internationally.

This matters because owners in state and federal historic districts must rehabilitate their property according to the federal standards if they seek valuable historic tax credits. These same federal standards have been adopted by many municipal review boards in regulating alterations, additions, and new infill construction in local historic districts.

Our federal standards were developed in 1977. The era that celebrated polyester and disco had as much respect for traditional architecture as it did for natural fibers. Buildings designed in traditional styles back then were typically ham-handed fakes. The standards were intended to prevent the spread of such kitsch. But a different type of seepage has resulted. Contemporary design requirements have forced bland, generic buildings and features where they don't belong. This is fast eroding the architectural integrity of older buildings and the historic character of their settings.

Times have changed much since the '70s and our historic guidelines should reflect that. Today, we have a growing number of classically trained architects and skilled craftsmen along with a public that increasingly values the quality of historic buildings and materials.

To understand how far historic review boards have strayed from their important purpose, consider what would not be approved in Richmond today under the prevailing interpretation of the guidelines: The Branch House on Monument Avenue, the Kent-Valentine House (Garden Club of Virginia), St. John's Mews, and the classical 1906 additions to the State Capitol. There are others -- you get the idea.

Most people are attracted to historic neighborhoods because they admire enduring architectural traditions, not trends. Historic guidelines that now favor contemporary design must be revised to accommodate traditional design alternatives and stop treating historically informed design as reactionary or frozen in time. No one wants to see second-rate imitation, but informed interpretation of historic styles should be allowed and encouraged.

There is a long and revered tradition for this. Jefferson drew from the renowned Renaissance architect Palladio, who was inspired by the great Roman architect Vitruvius. And the ancient Romans in Pompeii and Herculaneum preferred the styles of classical Greece to those of their own day. Many of America's finest landmarks derived design inspiration from the great models of civilizations past.

Richmond must revise its historic guidelines before they further erode the city's distinctive historic character. Preservation is about more than architecture, it is also about essence. The rigorous insistence on stark physical differentiation is, ironically, draining our city of the irretrievable qualities of architectural distinction that set it apart.

Jennie and Walter Dotts are partners in Old House Authority, a restoration business. Contact them at jennie@oldhouseauthority.com.