Clark Glavé and the house he is restoring on Monteiro Street in Barton Heights (Photo by Jay Paul)
The history of a place is discovered in many ways: through storytelling, events and the people who shape it. History is also embedded in built spaces, which can show growth and decline, aesthetic tastes and priorities. With a city as old as Richmond — nearing the 300th anniversary of its founding in 1737 — the push and pull from past to present to future can play out most vividly in buildings. What survives? What goes? And what is lost when older buildings are removed?
“Richmond is a great example of how historic preservation defines a community,” says Elizabeth Kostelny, CEO of Preservation Virginia, a nonprofit that seeks to foster support for the commonwealth’s historic spaces through advocacy, education, revitalization and stewardship. “When you look at what attracts people to Richmond, it’s the historic neighborhoods. People like to live in places where they feel they are part of the continuity of a city.”
But historic preservation isn’t free from controversy. Often, federal, state or local tax credits support renovations or adaptive reuse efforts. Those tax credits represent income that doesn’t flow to government coffers but remains in the pockets of developers. Sometimes, historic designations also limit the extent of changes made to a building and an owner’s freedom.
“Local governments want development. Developers don’t want historic regulations. The town doesn’t want developers to go elsewhere,” notes John Accordino, professor of urban and regional planning at VCU’s L. Douglas Wilder School of Government and Public Affairs. “How do you balance the absolute benefits of historic preservation in real-time developing projects and differing views [that surface]? People don’t always take all the costs into account.”
Determining Value
Accordino has researched the effects of historic preservation, as represented in adaptive reuse, for decades. A report he developed for Preservation Virginia on the Virginia Main Street Program, which works with localities to revitalize downtowns, showed the program makes a difference.
“I’m not a social psychologist, but clearly, [adaptive reuse of historic buildings] touches something about people’s desire for rootedness,” he says. The COVID-19 pandemic did hurt small business districts, he notes, because foot traffic and casual drop-ins were curtailed, but businesses are recovering well, thanks to broadband internet services that allow remote employees to enjoy a cup of coffee in a restaurant or bakery while they work, as well as a refreshed desire for walkable communities.
“We used to have vertical structures — think of the Cookie Factory Lofts and Tobacco Row [in Richmond],” he says. “Once the assembly line and horizontal processing became more efficient, those buildings didn’t work as well. But those multistory buildings work great for condos, offices, coworking centers. As our economy has changed, new uses have become viable in those old spaces. That’s why adaptive use is important.”
Adaptive use is also good for the planet.
“From a total cost perspective, if you look at the cost of materials and waste and building on the same site [where a building is torn down], it’s generally cheaper to refurbish and maintain the historic building than to build new,” Accordino says, noting that new construction can feel economical, depending on the circumstances, but new is not necessarily what workers want. “If land is cheaper on a greenfield site and you’re using lesser-quality materials, that will cost less than revitalizing a historic building.”
Living in History
When it comes to preservation of historic homes, refurbishing an existing home has many benefits, says Cyane Crump, executive director with Historic Richmond, a nonprofit focused on preservation, neighborhood revitalization, education and advocacy.
“Using an existing structure is usually less expensive than a new build, both to the pocketbook and the environment,” Crump says. “As the owner, you can go at your own pace, do some of the work on your own, evaluate the type of work you want to do as you go along. There is value in the details and the character of the building — and in not filling up a landfill.
“Every structure needs a certain amount of updating and maintenance every generation,” she adds. “If you’ve got a 1960s house that hasn’t been touched [since it was built], it will probably need more work than a 1920s house that has been regularly maintained.”
Crump acknowledges the perception that historic preservation can lead to displacement of longtime residents who can’t keep up with rising residential tax assessments. The real issue, she says, is when a new buyer tears down a modestly scaled house and builds a much larger home on the same lot. “It’s not preservation that leads to the displacement of people — it’s a super-investment in the neighborhood,” she says. “When people are preserving an old house, they are keeping intact the architectural fabric and the scale of the neighborhood.”
The 1890 Barton Mansion now houses multiple luxury apartments. (Photo courtesy Clark Glavé)
Finding a Way
Clark Glavé says he grew up with plaster dust in his veins, the result of watching his father, architect Jim Glavé, buy and renovate houses. The younger Glavé’s first project was the restoration of the superintendent’s house at Hollywood Cemetery. In 2020, Glavé was recognized by Historic Richmond and Storefront for Community Design with a Golden Hammer Award for his adaptive reuse of the historic Barton Mansion on the city’s North Side.
Older homes deserve the care they require, Glavé says.
“Houses on Monument Avenue have gorgeous plaster crown molding and decorations on the ceiling, and hand-carved Corinthian columns on the staircases,” he says. “These things just aren’t produced today; they need to be saved for the future.
“This is culture. It’s the past,” he adds. “Why do the [Egyptian] pyramids matter? We can’t replicate them today.”
Glavé acknowledges the financial challenges of renovating older homes and credits Historic Richmond for helping city residents and government see the value in saving old buildings. “Historic Richmond does a lot of yeoman’s work,” he says, noting that he took on a current project, 1716 Monteiro St., with the assistance of the nonprofit. “It’s a significant [house] because it’s a High Victorian built by neighborhood developer James Barton in the late 19th century. I bought it [from Historic Richmond] for $1 — one of the most expensive dollars I’ve ever spent.”
The commitment to history is worth it, Crump says, noting that challenges persist.
“One of the things we love about Richmond is that we’ve got some really distinctive neighborhoods,” she says. “Each neighborhood has its own architectural character, culture and flair. How do we provide an opportunity for everybody to share in that unique and authentic feel of each of those neighborhoods without irretrievably losing what makes that neighborhood special?”
