Louis Sullivan

Author(s):  
Joseph M. Siry

Louis Henry Sullivan (b. 1856–d. 1924) was the first internationally recognized architect in the United States to pursue the idea of a modern architecture independent of historic styles. He was supremely gifted as a designer of architectural ornament, which was an important component of almost all his major buildings and central to his thinking about architecture as art. Sullivan was also the first American modernist to write extensively about architecture—critically, theoretically, and philosophically. His central theme was that a modern American architecture should have form that follows function, based on the model of natural organisms. Born in Boston, Sullivan studied architecture at MIT (1872–1873) and in the atelier of Émile Vaudremer at the École des Beaux-Arts in Paris (1873–1874). He returned to Chicago after its Great Fire of 1871 to work initially for William Le Baron Jenney, known for his early iron-and-masonry tall office buildings. From 1880 to 1895, Sullivan was continuously associated with Dankmar Adler (b. 1844–d. 1900), whose skills in architectural engineering complemented Sullivan’s design abilities to make Adler and Sullivan one of the most extraordinary architectural partnerships in US architectural history. Sullivan was the most outstanding creative figure of the Chicago school of the 1880s and 1890s, especially in his designs for theaters and tall office buildings. After the partnership ended in 1895, Sullivan continued to design major works in New York and Chicago, although his later practice, after 1905, focused mainly on banks in small midwestern towns. His work and thought inspired a number of younger contemporaries throughout his later life, including Frank Lloyd Wright, who was Sullivan’s assistant from 1887 to 1893. From Sullivan’s lifetime through the mid-20th century, he was known mainly for his role as a major advocate for and practitioner of a modern American architecture not derived directly from historical styles. In this way, much of the original scholarship on Sullivan was framed according to the overarching narrative of the rise of the modern movement. In this historiographic schema, Sullivan’s work was sometimes considered an American parallel to European Art Nouveau architecture. Since the 1970s, with the rise of postmodernism in architecture, Sullivan’s ornament and his relationships to historical sources, and to Romanticism, have been revalued as a focus for scholarship. Recently, there has been study of Sullivan’s and the Chicago school’s relationships to the city’s economic, political, social, and technical history in the later 19th century.

2021 ◽  
Vol 20 (20) ◽  
pp. 109-135
Author(s):  
Veronica A. Wilson

For personal or political reasons undocumented and controversial to this day, Greenwich Village lesbian photographer Angela Calomiris joined forces with the Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI) during the Second World War to infiltrate the Communist Party of the United States (CPUSA). As Calomiris rose through CPUSA ranks in New York City, espionage efforts resulted in the Attorney General's office declaring the avant-garde Film and Photo League to be a subversive communist organisation in 1947, and the conviction of communist leaders during the Smith Act trial two years later. Interestingly, despite J. Edgar Hoover's indeterminate sexuality and well-documented harassment of gays and lesbians in public life, what mattered to him was not whether Calomiris adhered to heteronormativity, but that her ultimate sense of duty lay with the US government. This article demonstrates how this distinction helped Calomiris find personal satisfaction in defiance of patriarchal conservative expectations and heteronormative cold war gender roles. This article, which utilises FBI files, press coverage, some of Calomiris's papers and her memoir, concludes with a brief discussion of Calomiris's later life in Provincetown, Massachusetts, where she continued to craft her identity as a left-liberal feminist, with no mention of the service to the FBI or her role in fomenting the second Red Scare.


Author(s):  
Hans Tammemagi

Our society has reached a frustrating impasse: everyone wants consumer goods, but nobody wants the associated waste. In all levels of society from the grass-roots to the highest level of politics, enormous public opposition has developed to siting landfills, incinerators, or transfer stations. With complex judicial and political systems that promote empowerment of the people, it has become common for opposition groups to delay or halt altogether the introduction of new waste management facilities. The NIMBY—Not In My Back Yard—syndrome has become a powerful force. This chapter explores the process by which the sites for landfills and related waste facilities are selected. This fascinating topic goes far beyond technical issues: it provides insight into human behavior and the ways political decisions are made. An understanding of the NIMBY phenomenon is essential for anyone who wishes to pursue a career in waste management. In some regions there is already a crisis. In New Jersey, for example, the number of landfills has dropped from more than 300 to about a dozen in the past two decades. As a result, more than half of New Jersey’s municipal solid waste must be exported to other states. In New York state, 298 landfills were closed and only 6 new ones opened in the decade since 1982. The same story is unfolding in almost all jurisdictions in North America; the number of landfills in the United States dwindled from 20,000 in 1979 to about 5,300 in 1993 (Miller, 1997). There is a very strong trend toward fewer—but much bigger—landfills. In the United States it is estimated that 8% of the existing landfills handle 75% of the country’s garbage. As the number of landfills decreases, their heights grow, casting dark shadows across the land. There is no doubt that new landfills are safer than old ones: they are generally better sited and incorporate better engineering and modern technology such as liners, covers, and leachate and gas extraction systems. However, people still do not want them next door. Thus, the few new landfills that are being developed are getting larger and larger; the megadump is the trend of the future.


2019 ◽  
Vol 12 (4) ◽  
pp. 104-120
Author(s):  
Haggag Ali

The critical theory of the Frankfurt School reached Egypt in 1955, when the Arabic translation of Erich Fromm’s The Sane Society (New York, 1955) was published in Cairo. Later, Herbert Marcuse’s Soviet Marxism (1958) was translated into Arabic in Beirut in 1965, and with the rise of student protests in France, Germany, and the United States, much attention was given to Marcuse; almost all his writings were translated into Arabic between 1969 and 1973. This article explores the nature of individual “receptions” of the critical theory of the Frankfurt School at Egyptian universities. To this end, it briefly introduces the early generation of the Frankfurt School, as well as the reasons of interest in its fate in Egyptian universities. Though master’s theses and doctoral dissertations do not represent a university’s orientation to critical theory, and at best represent the perspective of their individual authors, this article shows that key individual theses and dissertations testify to an early rejection of the Frankfurt School and to the late adoption of it as a critical paradigm of the transformations in Egyptian society.


1994 ◽  
Vol 63 (3) ◽  
pp. 365-377
Author(s):  
James M. O'toole

The recent interest in reconstructing the history of spirituality and religious belief is nowhere more welcome than in the history of Roman Catholicism in the United States. From the very point of its emergence as a recognizable subdiscipline at the turn of the century and lasting into very recent scholarship, American Catholic history has been a relentlessly “topdown”affair. It focused on the leaders of the church—almost all of them white males—and on official church institutions. Episcopal biography was the preferred form and, as often as not, “progress” was the theme: the hierarchy established itself steadily along the advancing frontier; populations of clergy, religious, and laity all increased heroically; immigrants once despised were transformed into the American mainstream. There was even an inspirational final chapter to the tale, as one American Catholic finally grasped the brass ring of acceptance and moved into the White House. The story was a deliberately edifying one, but it was a story primarily for insiders. Perhaps for that reason alone, American Catholic history seemed to remain, as Leslie Tender has recently observed, “on the margins” of serious scholarly discourse.


1986 ◽  
Vol 45 (2) ◽  
pp. 134-147
Author(s):  
J. Philip McAleer

Early Gothic Revival architecture in Canada, particularly from the period prior to the 1840s, when the influence of A. W. N. Pugin and the Ecclesiologists began to be felt, has been little studied. This paper reconstructs a lost monument-St. Mary's, in Halifax, Nova Scotia, as erected 1820-1830-which may have been the first ambitious essay in the Gothic Revival style, especially as it apparently precedes by a few years the single and most famous monument of this time, the parish church of Notre-Dame in Montréal, itself often considered the starting point of the style in Canada. Although the exterior of St. Mary's was modest-essentially it was an exemplar of the rectangular box with "west" tower, definitively formulated by James Gibbs, and ubiquitous since the 1720s-with Gothic detailing replacing Baroque, the interior, known only from one watercolor and partly surviving today, is of greater interest. Divided into nave and aisles by piers of clustered shafts, the piers' form, plus plaster vaults and pointed arches, helped create an aura reminiscent of the Gothic period. The interior was dominated by the design of the sanctuary (now destroyed), where an unusual congregation of architectural forms suggests both the appearance of illusionistic architecture, with a possible connection to New York, and a further transformation of Baroque forms into their Gothic equivalents, with a possible connection to Québec City. Tenuous, circumstantial evidence will be provided to substantiate the plausibility of such sources. This paper also attempts to place St. Mary's in the context of the Gothic Revival in North America c. 1820-1830. As a result, it will be seen that its exterior, although without precedents in Canada, is typical of Gothic Revival churches of the period in the United States. By contrast, the interior design, especially of the sanctuary, suggests it was one of the more imaginative creations in either context. It therefore emerges as a more significant monument in the history of Canadian and North American architecture than heretofore suspected.


Author(s):  
Katie Day

Religion has always been a contextually based phenomenon, particularly in urban space. Cities of every size, in every period, and in every region of the country have been defined by the towers and spires of faith traditions. They have mapped cities, providing anchors to religionists who worship there, and contributing to the construction of civil society and a sense of place. Communities of faith have drawn migrants and immigrants to settle in a particular place and provided resources for adaptation and integration. Houses of worship have often defined neighborhood identities and become progenitors of social capital beyond their walls. Increasingly the physical and social forms of religion are becoming more diverse—different accents, practices, music, dress, and even scents pour into and out of houses of worship that may not be grand old structures but more modest structures built for other purposes, blending into the cityscape. Still, religion is influential in shaping its context both spatially and socially. But the relationship is reciprocal, as context acts on the questions, meanings, and practices of faith groups as well. The city has occupied the religious imaginations of many traditions as an ambivalent symbol, seen as both the locus of depravity and of redemption. Out of these imaginaries religious questions, meanings, practices, and forms of engagement have been shaped. Further, the economic, political, social, and institutional dynamics of the urban space impact the practice and understanding of religion, and how it is expressed and lived out in everyday life. The interaction of religions and urban space—what can be described as a dynamic synapse in a human ecology—is emerging as a focus of exploration in understanding how cities work. Although religion is often overlooked by many urban theorists, researchers, planners, developers, and governments, it is gaining fresh attention by scholars. Drawing on major schools of urban theory—particularly the modernist Chicago School and the postmodern L.A. School of Urbanism—the spatial dimension of urban religion is being analyzed in research projects from a growing number of contexts. Theoretical and empiric work is enabling a deeper understanding of the relationship of religion and cities; they cannot be considered in isolation. Religious agency cannot be exaggerated or romanticized but should be considered as what two researchers have called “one of the ensemble of forces creating the new American metropolis” (Numrich, Paul D., and Elfriede Wedam. Religion and Community in the New Urban America. New York: Oxford University Press, 2015.). In the same way, faith groups of all traditions and dimensions do not exist in isolation of their context as bubbles in city space. The intersection of space and urban religion is complex, especially as both religion and cities are in the midst of great change in the 21st century.


Author(s):  
Steven Rybin ◽  
Will Scheibel

Nicholas Ray (1911–1979), the director of Rebel Without a Cause, Johnny Guitar, In a Lonely Place, and other Hollywood films from 1947 to 1958, came to filmmaking with a diverse artistic background from the 1930s. As a student of architecture, he was an apprentice of Frank Lloyd Wright, and as an actor, he was a member of the socialist-leaning New York City acting company the Theatre of Action, which associated with the Group Theatre. He also served in various New Deal agencies—the Works Progress Administration, the U.S. Department of Agriculture’s Resettlement Administration, and the Office of War Information—that immersed him in American folk culture before moving to Hollywood. In cinema studies, he is best known as the American test case for auteurist film criticism. Discovered by the French critics at Cahiers du Cinéma after World War II, Ray was celebrated as an auteur, a director with a consistent signature style and personal vision who (like an author) is understood to be the single force of control that structures the entire film. Yet, at the mercy of producers and executives, he also worked within classical studio and genre systems and was generally unknown or ignored in the United States at this time. After directing his final studio film, Party Girl, in 1958, Ray spent the late 1950s and 1960s outside of Hollywood, helming a series of international co-productions. Throughout the 1960s, he would struggle to finance projects independently; his unrealized efforts during this period include an adaptation of the Dylan Thomas story The Doctor and the Devils and a film about the trial of the Chicago Seven. Ray spent much of the 1960s outside of the United States, attending retrospectives of his work, living in Paris during the student protests of 1968, and attempting to put together production deals. In the 1970s, Ray returned to America, eventually taking a job as a film professor at Harpur College at Binghamton University, State University of New York. With his students, Ray would embark on his ambitious final project, a multi-image experimental film entitled We Can’t Go Home Again. The film would remain unfinished at the time of the director’s death, but in 2011, it was restored by his widow, Susan Ray. While underappreciated by critics in America during his career in the 1950s, the critical studies referenced below demonstrate the ongoing importance of Ray’s films to cinema scholars.


2020 ◽  
Vol 8 (1) ◽  
pp. 32-41 ◽  
Author(s):  
Robert Warren

Executive Summary This report presents estimates of the undocumented population residing in the United States in 2018, highlighting demographic changes since 2010. The Center for Migration Studies of New York (CMS) compiled these estimates based primarily on information collected in the US Census Bureau’s American Community Survey (ACS). The annual CMS estimates of undocumented residents for 2010 to 2018 include all the detailed characteristics collected in the ACS. 1 A summary of the CMS estimation procedures, as well as a discussion of the plausibility of the estimates, is provided in the Appendix . The total undocumented population in the United States continued to decline in 2018, primarily because large numbers of undocumented residents returned to Mexico. From 2010 to 2018, a total of 2.6 million Mexican nationals left the US undocumented population; 2 about 1.1 million, or 45 percent of them, returned to Mexico voluntarily. The decline in the US undocumented population from Mexico since 2010 contributed to declines in the undocumented population in many states. Major findings include the following: The total US undocumented population was 10.6 million in 2018, a decline of about 80,000 from 2017, and a drop of 1.2 million, or 10 percent, since 2010. Since 2010, about two-thirds of new arrivals have overstayed temporary visas and one-third entered illegally across the border. The undocumented population from Mexico fell from 6.6 million in 2010 to 5.1 million in 2018, a decline of 1.5 million, or 23 percent. Total arrivals in the US undocumented population from El Salvador, Guatemala, and Honduras — despite high numbers of Border Patrol apprehensions of these populations in recent years — remained at about the same level in 2018 as in the previous four years. 3 The total undocumented population in California was 2.3 million in 2018, a decline of about 600,000 compared to 2.9 million in 2010. The number from Mexico residing in the state dropped by 605,000 from 2010 to 2018. The undocumented population in New York State fell by 230,000, or 25 percent, from 2010 to 2018. Declines were largest for Jamaica (−51 percent), Trinidad and Tobago (−50 percent), Ecuador (−44 percent), and Mexico (−34 percent). The results shown here reinforce the view that improving social and economic conditions in sending countries would not only reduce pressure at the border but also likely cause a large decline in the undocumented population. Two countries had especially large population changes — in different directions — in the 2010 to 2018 period. The population from Poland dropped steadily, from 93,000 to 39,000, while the population from Venezuela increased from 65,000 to 172,000. Almost all the increase from Venezuela occurred after 2014.


2017 ◽  
Vol 141 (5) ◽  
pp. 704-717 ◽  
Author(s):  
James R. Wright

Context.— The first major project of the American College of Surgeons (Chicago, Illinois), founded in 1913, was implementing Minimum Standards for Hospitals. The 1918 standard (1) established medical staff organizations in hospitals; (2) restricted membership to licensed practitioners in good standing; (3) mandated that the medical staff work with hospital administration to develop and adopt regulations and policies governing their professional work; (4) required standardized, accessible medical records; and (5) required availability of diagnostic and therapeutic facilities. One hundred years ago, these were radical expectations. Objectives.— To describe the origin, “marketing,” and voluntary adoption of the 1918 standards, and to describe how the evolution of those standards profoundly affected laboratory medicine after 1926. Design.— Available primary and secondary historical sources were reviewed. Results.— The college had no legal mandate, so it used a highly consultative approach, funded by its membership and the Carnegie Foundation (New York, New York), to establish the Minimum Standards, followed by a nonthreatening mechanism to determine which hospitals met them. Simultaneously, the college educated the public to fuel their expectations. Compliance by more than 100-bed hospitals in the United States and Canada, although entirely voluntary, rose from negligible when first implemented in 1918 to more than 90% in only a few years. From 1922 to 1926, the American Society for Clinical Pathology (Chicago, Illinois) worked creatively with the college to establish Minimum Standards for “adequate” laboratory services. Conclusions.— The birth and implementation of this program exemplifies how a consultative approach with full engagement of grassroots stakeholders facilitated a voluntary, rapid, sweeping North America–wide change-management process. This program eventually evolved into the Joint Commission (Oakbrook Terrace, Illinois).


Author(s):  
George E. Thomas

Frank Furness (12 November 1839–27 June 1912) took an original course that accelerated the transformation of American architecture from an art rooted in the past to one that responded to the rapidly changing materials, technologies, and circumstances of the Industrial Age. After study in New York in the atelier of Richard Morris Hunt, Furness served as an officer in the Sixth Pennsylvania Cavalry, winning the Medal of Honor in the largest cavalry battle of the Civil War at Trevilian Station, Virginia, in 1864. Furness entered practice when a new generation, arising from the city’s industrial culture, had taken control of Philadelphia’s economy and institutions. Its leaders, many from the Franklin Institute of the State of Pennsylvania for the Promotion of the Mechanic Arts, proposed to hold an international exhibition in Philadelphia, ostensibly to celebrate the centennial of the Declaration of Independence, but with the larger goal of representing to the nation and the world the extraordinary innovations in modern design initiated in Philadelphia. When the Centennial Exhibition opened in May 1876, Furness had already completed half a dozen banks in the downtown area, the Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts, and two religious buildings in the institutional center as well as numerous houses scattered across the elite residential district, a bank, and various pavilions at the fair. Those buildings introduced him to Centennial Exhibition visitors from both the United States and abroad. During more than forty years of practice, Furness and his various offices (Fraser, Furness & Hewitt; Furness & Hewitt, Frank Furness; Furness & Evans; Furness, Evans & Co.) produced designs for nearly 800 projects, the vast majority of which were built. Some 200 were commissioned by the nation’s largest railroads, including the Philadelphia and Reading, the Baltimore and Ohio, and the Pennsylvania Railroad. By the end of the century, Furness found himself largely excluded from the professional narrative as architects working from historical models found his ahistorical work inscrutable. Furness introduced the literature of family friends, Walt Whitman and Ralph Waldo Emerson, to the young architects working in his office, including Louis Sullivan (b. 1856–d. 1924), William L. Price (b. 1861–d. 1916), and George Howe (b. 1886–d. 1955). George Howe, who, like Sullivan and Price, shared the experience of the Furness office, laid out an American genealogy for modern architecture in his essay “What Is This Modern Architecture Trying to Express?” (1930) that included “Wright, Sullivan, and Price.” These architects and their students, from Irving Gill to Louis Kahn, carried on the discipline found in Furness’s architecture into our own time.


Sign in / Sign up

Export Citation Format

Share Document