Boston’s a city I’ve visited often over the years; I lived nearby for a while as a child, visited friends there in my thirties, and now have family living in its suburbs.
I’ve watched a lot of changes over the years, but there seems to be something about the city that always remains ‘Boston,’ even when highly questionable architectural events alter its skyline and streetscape. Some changes, of course, are absolutely an improvement, such as the Big Dig project which buried a series of ugly freeways in tunnels.
But some of the changes can be a bit jarring; the city’s 19th-century City Hall, above, was one of America’s first buildings to copy French Second Empire styles; it still stands, but was pushed aside for a building that makes clear why its style is called ‘Brutalist.’
It’s not alone; Boston seems to have had quite a flirtation with the style in the 1970s, including this building, the Erich Lindemann Mental Health Center, which seems nothing like the calming influence you’d think would be wanted.
A gentler, but no less peculiar building is West End Place, a rental and condo apartment building that seems unclear whether it wants to be a monument, a fortification or the foundation of the Tower of Babel. It’s just opposite the mental health center.
It’s not a long walk, just a few blocks, from those two to City Hall, and from there to some more traditional Boston, including the early 19th-century Faneuil Hall and Quincy Market. Over the past years, Quincy Market has changed from a major public market to a venue for food and craft-oriented boutiques.
Also nearby is the Old State House, once the seat of colonial government. No surprise about nearby, of course: Boston was a much more compact city before it started filling in parts of its harbor and small streams. Everything was in walking distance back then. Here’s the New State House, on Beacon Hill, facing the Boston Common. It’s not exactly new either: it was built in 1787; the architect was Charles Bulfinch who later designed the U.S. Capitol.
Here’s the New State House, on Beacon Hill, facing the Boston Common. It’s not exactly new either: it was built in 1787; the architect was Charles Bulfinch who later designed the U.S. Capitol. Over the years it’s been extended and extended, so only the front part here much resembles the original. On the Capitol grounds, a monument to firefighters.
Not far from the State House, just down Beacon Hill, is the African Meeting House, now a museum of African-American history in Boston. In the early-to-mid 19th century, it and its associated school were the center of Boston’s Black community.
The large plaque outside shows quotations from important speeches and events at the Meeting House.
Still on Beacon Hill… traditional home to some of Boston’s wealthiest, especially after the city spread enough to move the less well-off further away, has quite a few impressive buildings, as well as some that seem to have been left behind as newer ones rose.
It’s also a place to find rows of 19th-century houses with cast-iron facades mixed in with the stonework.
The Boston Ballet occupies the Boston Opera House (which has no opera). It was built as one of the crown jewels of the Keith-Albee movie chain (he was the ‘K’ in RKO). Its crown is in our title image.
The Boston Visitor Information Center on the Common was once an entrance to the subway that runs below it. Nearby, on the common, an arrangement of statues representing what, a century or so ago, were considered three traits of Boston life: religion, learning and industry. I could think of others…
Speaking of learning, a trip to Boston’s neighbor, Cambridge, can entitle you for the rest of your life to say “I went to Harvard.” Of course, if you’re not George Santos, you might just admire the mostly 19th-century red-brick buildings that mark the campus.
But there are some surprises there, too: A flash of color on a facade, a tile-vaulted lower entrance into the library building, and a finial from the 1841 library that was razed to make room for the present one, built in 1914. I’ve always wondered where they kept the books during the construction…
This one, at night, is not a church. It’s a Harvard dormitory, only they don’t use that word. It’s a ‘house.’ With a steeple.
Harvard Square, the University’s front door, is also home to a number of densely-packed bookstores, but the lack the color—and the bargains—of the Brattle Book Shop, near the Common. With 250,000 books in stock, it’s one of the largest in the country, and at 198 years one of the oldest.
But if Brattle Book Shop is looking forward to its bicentennial, sadly Durgin-Park, a special-occasion staple of my childhood, is not. Founded in 1827 and located in Faneuil Hall, it stopped serving its roast beef, baked beans, Indian pudding and other specialties in 2019, though its sign remains.
Plain speaking. Some cities have elaborate covers in their streets with images or heraldry, slogans and the like. Not to put those down—I love them—but there’s something to said for this no-nonsense approach.
And a word for the non-human inhabitants of the city. One of the two T-Rex models at the Science Museum did its part to remind the public to wear masks, while the still-living and ever-present geese queue at the Museum of Fine Art.
Congratulations to George G, who recognized our title image, which was this week’s One-Clue Mystery!
