Architectural Salvage: Fresh Uses for Old Objects
by Rob Baranello
Photography by Elizabeth Glagow
By the early 1970s the phrase "urban renewal" had secured a place in the nation's lexicon. Its definition was clear: the replacement of old, often ornate structures with box-like buildings designed to house thousands would usher in a prosperous era reflected by architectural modernity. to historic preservationists, the campaign seemed a gamble with the only guarantee being the loss of architectural milestones whose exterior and interior embellishments were moving with time into the realm of fine art. While their voices would soon be muffled by the din of progress and echoes of the wrecking ball (like the 1963 leveling of the original Pennsylvania Station, a 1910 neoclassical structure of Doric marble columns and exquisite statuary), a renewed appreciation of - and a market for - preservationist salvage was beginning to seep into grassroots consciousness.
Out of this movement grew a new mercantile breed, the "architecturologist," a kind of super antique dealer who, in addition to buying the contents of estates, also bids for their inner and outer walls, the exterior stone and marble pillars decorative reliefs, statues, and interior wood, iron, plaster, and glass.
One such architecturologist is Kevin Browne, general manager of Olde Good Things the nation's largest salvage business with three New York City locations and 100,000-square-foot warehouse in Scranton, Pennsylvania. During Manhattan's 42nd Street renewal project, Browne and his team successfully bid-purchased the contents of nearly all its historic theaters, from the exterior facades to the interior moldings and chandeliers. He continues to scour pre-demolition sites for historic relics.
In discussing differences between antique shopping and purchasing salvage, Brown cautions that a skilled hand is needed for handling salvage and its installation, from doors to bathtubs, and architectural trim. "One of the biggest mistakes I see people making is planning a project before they have picked a builder. You need someone competent to work with salvageable items," explains Browne. "The work is specialized, and installation requires more patience; it's more time consuming. Consequently, a contractor or architect may steer a customer away from using salvage. The extra hours are reflected in the cost. But these problems can be alleviated beforehand with good communications between the customer, designer and builder.
David Marshall, a Centerport based contractor specializing in custom interior work, agrees. "It takes experience, Know-how and patience to work with these very delicate items," Marshall says. "Furthermore, an experienced builder can tell at a glance an item's structural integrity and restoration potential. So a good contractor may be a better companion in a salvage yard than even your designer." Marshall adds that contractors can also double as a buyer's resource. "We or someone we know may be redoing, say, and inner-city brownstone, and have access to claw-foot tubs, doors, mantels, for which owners often want little money, if any," he says. "I always pass that savings on to my customers."
Time and endangered craftsmanship have transformed the salvage dealer's inventory into art. Earle Goodman of Goodman and Design Inc., whose team worked on restoration projects at Oheka Castle, Carltun on the Park and the Georgian Sanctuary of Temple Israel in Great Neck, and served as designers for numerous homes on the East End, believes the aesthetic value of preservationist salvage is its strongest suit.
"There are two objectives to using salvage," Goodman notes. "One, as historical accurate restoration, and the other as adaptive reuse, as decorative items. In residences, we've used salvage mainly as art". Goodman cites a practical reason. "It's much easier to use new items like molding, for example. It's readily available and doesn't need refinishing, which adds another layer of time and money. Only where historical accuracy in a high priority would we go though that time and expense. At Oheka, the moldings were plaster so we had remnants made of what was left and duplicated that with historical accuracy."
the salvage piece that most strikes the midpoint between practicality and beauty is the vintage bathtubs, a salvage dealer's most reliable customer draw. Early 20th Century claw-foot and Depression era pedestal tubs, and their sister component, pedestal sinks are highly desirable bathroom remodeling features. Lavonne Vella of Porcelain Industries in West Islip, a reglazer and retailer of vintage tubs, sinks and bathroom fixtures, advises that a modicum of research prior to purchase can amount to substantial savings.
"If the interior porcelain of an old tub just has some chips or crazing lines, then the damage is not too severe," she says. "Beware of pitting and corrosion, where the porcelain looks like the skin of a cantaloupe. That indicates more restorative work." According to Vella, 90 percent of tubs are stamped on the underside, with the most reputable manufacturers being American Standart and Richmond.
High-end tub and sink restoration includes sandblasting, refinishing the interior porcelain and reglazing the exterior cast iron with layers of rust inhibitors and fillers. the process costs between $1,000 and $1,500. A reputable restorer can repair deep rust, weld existing holes or drill new ones. Porcelain Industries offers tub feet coating with nickel, polished brass or steel ranging form $225 to $400. It also retail pre-restoration vintage tubs ranging between $300 and $500. "Sometimes a customer will ask us simply to sandblast the tub, replace the interior porcelain, and they'll do the outer cast iron themselves," says Vella. "So there are a lot of options."
A less negotiable option is the faucet. Period reproduction hardware is more reliable than vintage, as graphite packings and movable parts often deteriorate. Many restorers, like Porcelain Industries, are also hardware suppliers.
The fun of decorating with salvage is that applications need not be limited to their original purpose. A fireplace mantle might double as a bedroom headboard of accent shelf against a blank wall. A wrought iron floor heat register, laid horizontally and covered with plate glass, makes a unique coffee table. A church steeple can be transformed into a wishing well for the garden - the forgotten room of the house - with a stained glass window or decorative relief hanging nearby.
One Creative homeowner used an early 20th century movie house box office, with its overhead recessed lighting, as a bar. Corbels, normally accents a crown molding, can be set mid-was as a ledge for a candle or porcelain figurine. Old moldings can be refabricated into frames for oil paintings. Seasoned barn wood can be used to build eye-catching cabinetry. Sections of molded tin ceiling are a creative replacement for wallpaper. Pedestals from vintage sinks are widely used as plant stands. Nineteenth-century English decorative tiles make excellent trivets, in addition to accents. The possibilities are limited only to the designer's imagination.
Awareness of the design potential of salvage is relatively new. A movement has begun to recover shattered bits of the old Penn Station's marble columns and dismembered statuary from New Jersey landfills and marshlands. Demolition teams are now swinging their pickaxes a little less aggressively in the brownstones of Harlem and Greenwich Village, and the co-ops of the Upper West Side. Nautical salvage, too, is a growing market, with the flow of vintage brass and wooden-ship parts arriving from the Southeast, where its deterioration was less severe.
There is truth behind the old axiom: You don't know what you've got till it's gone. Saving, preserving and finding new uses for architectural salvage keeps vintage design alive while adding eclectic flair to today's homes.
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