Facade

BALTIMORE'S historic Engineering Society headquarters appears to have grown a second skin this winter, as if it's trying to stay extra warm.The new outer coat consists of plastic sheets over scaffolding that has been set up for crews repairing the brownstone facade of the Mount Vernon landmark, which dates from the 1880s.The plastic wasn't attached to keep the construction crews warm, though it might have done that. It was put up to keep the building's surface temperature above 40 degrees, so restoration work could proceed when air temperatures fell below freezing.

An Anne Arundel County judge this week threw out a $40,000 claim against Annapolis and the Historic Annapolis Foundation by the owner of a burned building in the city's historic district.The ruling does not stop Ronald B. Hollander from filing his claim in a new lawsuit, however.184-186 Main St.Hollander owns 184-186 Main St., a building reduced to rubble and a facade in a December 1997 blaze. The Historic Annapolis Foundation sought an injunction to bar Hollander from razing the facade, and that touched off an argument that shows no sign of ending.

ANNAPOLIS' Main Street looks like a smile with a tooth missing.The five-alarm fire Dec. 9, which destroyed restaurants, shops and offices at 184-186 Main St., created an unslightly gap in the street-scape of the state capital's main thoroughfare. All that remains is a two-story burned brick facade supported by steel and wooden shoring.The gap must be filled as quickly as possible. But if initial communications between Ronald B. Hollander, owner of the buildings, and city officials are any indication of what lies ahead, Annapolis may be stuck with this "what, me worry?"

Chunks of brick and mortar crashed to the sidewalk yesterday morning as a yellow backhoe rammed the front of a fire-damaged Main Street building in Annapolis and turned to dust the center of a controversy that began in a five-alarm blaze in December.Several residents, business people and the merely curious came out at 7 a.m. to watch while contractors began demolishing the bottom portion of the city's first Jewish department store, a 99-year-old structure that city officials and preservationists fought to save in this colonial city.

COMPARING THE BURNT facade at 184-186 Main St. in Annapolis to a Van Gogh is a stretch. Yet the thinking behind this analogy seemed to prevail last week when the Historic Preservation Commission in the state capital decided unanimously to deny a demolition permit to the owner of that property."

THIS WEEK'S demolition of a fire-ravaged facade that has been an eyesore in downtown Annapolis for nine months was inevitable.The fire that engulfed 184-186 Main St. the night of Dec. 9, 1997 severely damaged the integrity of the remaining structure, but few were willing to accept that reality.The owner of the building, Ronald B. Hollander, had three structural engineers examine the wall and bricks in it days after the blaze.The trio reached the same finding: The wall was structurally unsound.

LIKE THE president's admission of a sexual affair, the recent razing of a burned facade in the heart of Annapolis' historic district was inevitable -- and about seven months too late.Weeks after the Dec. 9, 1997 fire that destroyed 184-186 Main St., three experts with impeccable engineering credentials pronounced the building's charred facade unsalvageable. They predicted it would have to be taken down.Their dispassionate, expert assessments were dismissed out of hand, however. Because that happened, the city of Annapolis looks very foolish today.

The facade stays.By unanimous vote last night, the Historic Preservation Commission denied an application to demolish a brick facade left standing two months ago after a five-alarm fire destroyed a 98-year-old building on Main Street in Annapolis.The five commissioners also said that building owner Ronald B. Hollander must return in six months with another application for demolition -- and this time he must submit building plans incorporating the existing facade into the new structure."I'm concerned and I'm upset," said Hollander as he left the City Hall council chambers.

It is called Facade -- and to Baltimore officials, that's an apt name.The city contends that the building at 5507 Reisterstown Road in Northwest Baltimore, originally zoned as a restaurant with dancing, is not a restaurant at all but a front for an unlicensed after-hours dance club.City officials are moving aggressively to shut it down. They are being backed in their efforts by area police and business leaders, who say the teen-age and young adult patrons of Facade create problems with vandalism and crowd control outside the club.

The city zoning board has voted unanimously to deny a request by the Facade nightspot in Northwest Baltimore for a new permit to operate as a restaurant with dancing.The lawyer for Facade at 5507 Reisterstown Road said yesterday that the club will appeal the decision to Circuit Court and plans to remain open pending the appeal.Facade has been operating without a permit since September, when the city zoning administrator revoked its original license to operate as a restaurant with dancing.

One of Baltimore's most distinctive buildings is hunting for a tenant. The four-story Fava Building in Jonestown, featuring a cast-iron facade salvaged from an 1869 warehouse, has been largely vacant since Gardel's Restaurant and Supper Club went out of business last fall. It formerly housed the Baltimore City Life Museums. A private entity, the 1840s Corp., owns the building at 33 Front St. and last year opened the 1840s Carrollton Inn, a 13-room, $2 million bed-and-breakfast inside three other former City Life buildings on the block.

CAMBRIDGE -- Preservationists are scrambling to save the fire-battered facade of a century-old storefront that was destroyed by a seven-alarm blaze Tuesday in the historic business district. Developer Brett Summers has obtained a temporary restraining order blocking demolition of the brick storefront, which housed two antiques shops. The building is next door to an old McCrory's store Summers converted into seven apartments and restaurant space. Summers said the 10-day court order will give the Cambridge Main Street program time to seek an emergency grant to shore up the storefront facade while he and other potential buyers decide whether to bid on it. "My first priority is to make sure [the McCrory's]

Nine years ago, a few muddy brown homes in North Baltimore threw off their dreary facades and something magical happened: They got some color. After a century of muted colors and blah-blah browns, neighbors in Charles Village began scrambling across their roofs and porches wielding paintbrushes. In came macaroni-and-cheese yellows and tangerine oranges, deep blues and screaming greens - all part of a 1998 contest to encourage residents to brighten up the neighborhood. Today, the contest is just a memory, but the painting hasn't stopped.

A year after officials refused to allow a "facade-ectomy" on a protected west-side block, deeming the buildings there too historic for that kind of procedure, the same developers now want permission to demolish the structures altogether. The developers say that without demolition - their foiled facade-ectomy would have torn down everything but the historic facades - their planned multimillion-dollar overhaul of the block isn't feasible. But preservationists are equally adamant about saving the block, a key link between downtown and the nascent west-side renewal.

Bel Air architect Craig Ward is giving his downtown office building a makeover, peeling away the dated smoked glass to reveal its stone department store facade -- a reminder to passers-by of Main Street's roots as a shopping district. Ward's is one of five downtown Bel Air businesses that have received grants for exterior upgrades, part of a $75,000 package from the state Department of Housing and Community Development and administered by the town. Ward, who is also president of the Bel Air Downtown Alliance, said the grant money "can really help get the ball rolling to have more renovation, entertainment and retail.

For five years, the muddy, litter-strewn vacant lot among the shops of Main Street has detracted from the otherwise picturesque view of Annapolis' downtown. Filled with debris - piles of bricks, crumpled concrete and steel - and lined with a stockade fence, the lot where two buildings burned in December 1997 is viewed as such a blight that it's called "the hole." But this week, the owner is taking the first steps toward cleaning up the site at 184-186 Main St. Under pressure from city officials, Ronald B. Hollander is expected to rid the lot of junk and litter, fill the hole with top soil, scatter grass and wildflower seeds, and replace the fence - which is pumpkin orange on the State House side - in time for Robert L. Ehrlich Jr.'s inauguration as governor next month.

For five years, the muddy, litter-strewn vacant lot among the shops of Main Street has detracted from the otherwise picturesque view of Annapolis' downtown. Filled with debris -- piles of bricks, crumpled concrete and steel -- and lined with a stockade fence, the lot where two buildings burned in December 1997 is viewed as such a blight that it is called "the hole." But this week, the owner is taking the first steps toward cleaning up the site at 184-186 Main St. Under pressure from city officials, Ronald B. Hollander is expected to rid the lot of junk and litter, fill the hole with topsoil, scatter grass and wildflower seeds and replace the fence -- which is pumpkin orange on the State House side -- in time for Robert L. Ehrlich Jr.'s inauguration as governor next month.

For five years, the muddy, litter-strewn vacant lot among the shops of Main Street has detracted from the otherwise picturesque view of Annapolis' downtown. Filled with debris - piles of bricks, crumpled concrete and steel - and lined with a stockade fence, the lot where two buildings burned in December 1997 is viewed as such a blight that it's called "the hole." But this week, the owner is taking the first steps toward cleaning up the site at 184-186 Main St. Under pressure from city officials, Ronald B. Hollander is expected to rid the lot of junk and litter, fill the hole with top soil, scatter grass and wildflower seeds, and replace the fence - which is pumpkin orange on the State House side - in time for Robert L. Ehrlich Jr.'s inauguration as governor next month.

Japanese Storm King, meet American Fitness Trainer. That's his foot resting on your Yoda-like nose. Hellenistic Head of a Girl, say hello to rock climber Kalvin Evans, and forgive him for sprinkling chalk dust in your hair. Art met athleticism on the concrete facade of the Walters Art Museum yesterday as Evans, a former Air Force sergeant from Columbia, climbed the stark gray wall facing Cathedral Street with four tiny video cameras strapped to his forearms and calves. Evans chose his handholds and footholds from among 252 bright orange resin-cast replicas of art objects, bolted in erratic rows across the facade.

The Maryland Stadium Authority ratified yesterday an agreement under which the lettered facade of Memorial Stadium will be kept intact as city-owned property, state officials said. The state's contract with Potts and Callahan to demolish the stadium was amended to add about $1 million to the original $2.5 million cost. The authority will hire a consultant and contractor to give advice on how to stabilize and support the 10-foot-high wall. Under the agreement between the state and the city, the memorial wall will be maintained by the city after the site is turned over to the nonprofit Govans Ecumenical Development Corp.