by Paul R. Spitzzeri
We conclude this post on the Baker Block, one of the more notable commercial buildings constructed in 19th century Los Angeles, by taking the story into 1879 as the structure was finally completed after close to a year-and-a-half of work. One of the later details mentioned in the press was from the 10 January edition of the Los Angeles Herald, which remarked on the fact that “two splendid Crusaders will ornament the newels which terminate the balustrade of the principal staircase,” while adding that “the English tiles which ornament the grand hall are being rapidly laid” with that work expected to be finished in about a week.
At last, the structure was finished in early February and the Herald of the 11th devoted two full columns to celebrating the completion of the construction, though it began by incorrectly stating that its predecessor, the El Palacio adobe residence of Abel Stearns and Arcadia Bandini, the latter the current spouse of the Block’s builder, Robert S. Baker, was razed just the prior October, when it was actually torn down in 1877. In its place, “is now erected an edifice whose costliness and commanding dignity attract the attention of the traveler.”
The paper continued,
We design studiously to avoid hyperbole, but we cannot forebear introducing a detailed notice of the building by the truthful statement that it would do honor to Broadway or any leading thoroughfare of any metropolitan city of the world. Set down in the Rue de Italiens, Paris, the Baker Block would be regarded as eminently in place. Superb as it is, built for all time, almost, it is a fitting supplement and successor to the old Stearns mansion—a historic house.
Moreover, it was remarked that El Palacio was a gathering place for Diegueño and Cahuilla Indians “recognizing in an attaché of the [Stearns] family, their Capitan Grande [paramount chief].” Additionally, it was reported, the indigenous people would go annually “to receive the gifts, through the liberality of Don Abel Stearns, their recognized chieftain was able to deal out to them.” With the effacing of El Palacio came “the ending of a Southern Californian custom and tradition which had some time before fallen into desuetude [disuse].”
The Herald turned to the “General Features of the Baker Block,” averring that it “is doubtless destined to be an enduring landmark in the Los Angeles of the future” and claimed it had two architectural styles, Roman Corinthian for the first floor and Modern Renaissance for the upper two levels. For a visitor, “the first impression . . . is the solidity, extent and massiveness of the structure” with the first of these demonstrated by there was no wall that was under a foot in thickness, with the perimeter and basement ones being 21 to 26 inches and then diminishing the higher you went in the building.
The Portland cement used on the exterior was such that it “gets better with time,” while the distinctive triple towers were highlighted along with “an awning, serving as a balcony” and which used truss supports. Given that much of the detail in the article was published before work began, we’ll focus on those areas the vary from that, such as the fact that the basement saloon space was such that “it would certainly involve some expense to fit this saloon up properly, but its attractions, with Los Angeles in the full tide of prosperity,” and this would be some years off yet until the Boom of the Eighties burst forth in 1886, “and thronged with gay crowds, would be unspeakable.”
As to the first floor’s six store spaces and the 23′ x 100′ grand central hallway, the paper commented that “the whole thing is hard finished, with elegant stucco cornices; and, in some instances, tasteful surbases [likely a molding above a baseboard].” It was mentioned that “we can imagine no better scene of display than is presented to an enterprising merchant by these large and commanding store-rooms.”
With respect to the hallway, it was deemed “the handsomest and most artistic achievement in this line we have noted in California” with the aforementioned Minton tile work said to have no equal, not even in San Francisco. On the double staircase, the balustrade was of black walnut and the railing a combination of that wood and mahogany, with those Crusader figures atop the newel posts. After generally describing the office spaces, the Herald remarked “we should not omit to note the extreme elegance of the main parlor” which was 22′ square and had “marbleized iron mantels” made by a San Francisco firm and a six-lamp chandelier of bronze, so that “the extreme beauty of the whole at once [is] riveting the attention of the visitor.”
For the third floor, comprising the sixteen residential suites, including that of the Bakers, the largest of the ten skylights was a massive iron one, also 22′ square, and also from a San Francisco firm. With this abundant of natural light, the Herald gushed that the system “may almost be said to be the finest architectural triumph which we know of as being presented in any business edifice in California.”
Concerning the “Details of the Baker Block,” it was pointed out that the half-dozen interior main walls “are carried all the way up from foundation stone to turret” while the first level’s iron work rose on bases of granite 15 feet and 10 1/2 feet on the second floor, with the top story having “iron center columns.” The smaller towers at the north and south ends of the structure contained the 3,000 gallon-capacity tanks supplying the water and these supplied with a 22″ main; this was said to mean that they were “in case of fire, independent of the demand for water by the [volunteer] fire companies.” Additionally, the supply ran the elevator, electricity not being introduced for a few years, by hydraulic pressure from the towers, while a settling system in the tanks assured purity and the large central tower had the hot water supply.
Further fire suppression involved the fact that “hydrants are dispersed all through the building” and had hoses at the ready, while another unusual feature was that, in the bathrooms, “the water [is] coming from the bottom of the tub. As for the iron columns, as mentioned previously, these were faced with brick to prevent warping under extreme heat with the Block built to deal, as best as could be conceived at the time, with the exigencies of fire.
Regarding “the possibility of earthquakes,” this was also said to be accounted for because “the whole building is elaborately knitted together” and the lower two floors “tied by a longitudinal lintel course,” this apparently meaning vertically, while the top level “is secured by a massive iron bond.” This led the Herald to declare that “unless the whole edifice were wrecked by a great convulsion of nature all the parts would be sure to stand.”
In the second floor, the office spaces were largely to be devoted to professionals and one highlighted example concerned the headquarters of the law firm of Anson Brunson and G. Wiley Wells and which “are characterized by unusual elegance and convenience.” In fact, it was asserted, not even the big New York City firms “will not begin to compare in spaciousness, appointments or style” with that of the Angel City partnership. Also mentioned was the bulletin board presented to Baker by the construction crew and discussed in part three.
Under the heading of “Honor to Whom Honor is Due,” the Herald remarked,
A description of the Baker Block would be lamentably defective without some note of the gentlemen to whose genius and workmanship we are indebted for this ornament to our city. To the Messrs. Buchanan & Herbert, the architects, are due the plan and its harmonious carrying out. The liberality of Col. Baker gave them an opportunity of showing the stuff that was in them, and they have availed themselves to the full of such a favorable opportunity of acquiring distinction.
Contractors from the Angel City and San Francisco were credited for their work, while it was added that, because Buchanan and Herbert kept a watchful eye over the project, and that “Colonel Baker personally purchased much of the material,” the cost of construction was kept to $150,000 when, it was claimed, “many a far inferior building has cost $250,000.”
Given the conscientious economizing and the high quality of the labor involved, the Herald felt fully justified in asserting that,
We see no reason to doubt, but that, when it shall have fulfilled its usefulness, and its enduring fabric shall have shown signs of decay, Los Angeles will have become a metropolitan city and will number her people by the hundred thousand. Only caprice can impair this usefulness of this superb structure short of a century to come.
As noted in prior parts, there was a concerted effort made by Baker to prevent Chinese labor from being utilized in the construction of his building and all three major English-language daily papers, the Express, Herald and Star, made a point of reporting on a story that began with the Herald in its 19 February edition. It commented that “one of the humors of the day” was when Baker was recently stopped on Main Street “by a Chinaman, who said, ‘Me likee rent the Baker Block'” and then offered that “the proposition is a broad one, but perhaps the Celestial is backed by the Six Companies.”
These tongs were community organizations that were usually considered criminal underworld enterprises by Anglos, but the Star took the Express to task by editorializing that it “thinks it a good joke that a Chinaman applied to Col. Baker for the rental” of the structure. This led the latter to rejoin that it said nothing whatever about it and advised its rival “please correct yourself, neighbor” and when seeking to “point your lugubrious moral and adorn your melodramatic tale,” to do so “at the expense of the fellow,” meaning, presumably, the Herald, who raised the matter.
In its reply, the Star reminded readers that the morning edition of the Express, which then had an afternoon one, as well, contained the reference, but, acknowledging the third sheet, it sought a little humor on its own by asserting that “what is Expressed by one in the afternoon is Heralded by the other in the morning, and vice versa, so it makes little difference whether Chang or Eng gets the credit.” This latter referred to the well-known Siamese twins of Chinese ancestry who were from what was called Siam and now Thailand and who moved to America when in their late teens to be exhibited in “freak shows” and lived in North Carolina until their deaths on the same day in 1874.
As to future caprice that would impede the Block’s commercial value, that came much sooner than a century, much less any realization of the expressed view that the structure was “built for all time, almost. In 1942, after almost a quarter century as the local Goodwill Industries headquarters, the edifice was torn down. The Los Angeles Times of 30 May noted that it was slated for demolition a half-dozen years prior and that, long removed from its heyday when Arcadia Bandini Stearns Baker, who died in 1912 eighteen years after Baker, “was the queen of Los Angeles society,” the relic was “considered a bar to progress, and a menace.”
What was left, after the stripping of the walnut detailing on the staircase, the Minton tiles and other elements, was the salvaging of redwood, pine staircase treads, the cast-iron columns, bricks, tin roofing and “good-as-new joists” and the paper added that “so far, there have been no secret panels filled with fabulous jewels or untold wealth.” All the workmen engaged in the demolition seemed to be concerned with was the possibility of rat infestations.
Several days later, however, the paper remarked on concerns expressed by those few interested in historic preservation as a group called Los Angeles Associates asked for a special public meeting of the planning committee of the City Council. Clay Perry of the Associates remarked that, while it was understood that the building was in the way of “superhighway plans” that eventually led to U.S. 101 being built through that section, “historical groups can save it and move it to another site, where the Red Cross or the U.S.O.,” the United States having just entered World War II, “might use it until the war is over. Then it could become a museum.”
At the end of June, the Historical Society of Southern California, which was only several years younger than the Baker Block, took its annual tour of the Plaza, Olvera Street and the Avila Adobe and, as part of its sojourn in the rapidly diminishing shadows of the Angel City’s early history, the group “stopped to view the wreckage of the old Baker Block.” Also mentioned was the Lugo Adobe on the east of the Plaza, which would fall to the wrecking ball about a decade later and no one likely could have portended future losses of historic structures, most notably at Bunker Hill, in the years to come in the face of so-called urban renewal.
Despite its short life, the Baker Block was an important signpost in the evolution of Los Angeles’ downtown, with its size, architecture, ornamentation, conveniences (including the city’s first elevator) and more setting it apart from its contemporaries as the 1870s lurched to a close amid a largely moribund economy, while pointing the way to the near future. Amid the Angel City’s insatiable hunger and unquenchable thirst for the new, however, it yielded to indefatigable change as its predecessor, the El Palacio adobe, had when it was touted as essential for progress—this is just one of a myriad of ironies about our regional history.
The featured photo from the Museum’s collection is another early view of the Baker Block from the Temple Block and including the towering electric arc light that represented the first such use of electric illumination in Los Angeles just a few years after the Baker was completed.
I was intrigued to learn from this post that the third floor of the Baker Block was designated for residential use. I had assumed that the combination of residential dwellings and commercial spaces was a more recent development, driven by urbanization trends in the past few decades. However, after doing some further research online, I discovered that this concept actually began in the late 19th century, experiencing various periods of decline and revival. What we’re witnessing today is another resurgence that started in the late 20th century.
Hi Larry, there were some other examples in 1870s Los Angeles, though nothing approaching the scale, as with the Merced Theatre (the building of which still stands) and the Abbott family residing on the top floor above the venue (the first floor was retail space.) Interesting that you note the comeback of the approach, such as with the renovation of commercial buildings into lofts with ground floor retail/commercial space.