Architect's foundation
H. H. Richardson's home and offices, the birthplace of one of Boston's top design firms, is for sale in the hope it can be preserved
Frederic and Caroline Hoppin are trying to preserve the historic home and offices of one America's greatest architects, but can't afford to do so much longer.
Six years ago the Brookline couple teamed up with a neighbor to buy the 1.5-acre estate where Henry Hobson Richardson lived when he designed Trinity Church in Boston and other great works, for $1.2 million from a Richardson descendent.
The Hoppins and next-door neighbor Mordechai Levin bought the plantation-style house on Cottage Street because they feared another buyer would tear it down and put up a sprawling home that would tower over their own houses. The Hoppins have lived for 37 years in a modest house to the rear of the Richardson home.
Soon after the unusual joint purchase, preservationists convinced the Hoppins they had become caretakers of a great architect's home.
``We just let them know that many of us felt he was one of the most important American architects ever," said Marilyn Fenollosa , formerly of the National Trust for Historic Preservation. ``They picked up on it right away. I don't think it had ever occurred to them that they were living next door to a historic property, but once they heard it was, they were completely sympathetic."
But the Hoppins and Levin disagreed on preserving the house, for reasons they declined to discuss. So the Hoppins in May bought out Levin, who got a half-acre of land in the deal. Levin did not return calls seeking comment.
It's become an expensive burden for the Hoppins. So far they've spent $1.35 million on the property, and another $600,000 on taxes, maintenance, and legal fees; town property taxes alone are $25,000 a year.
The house has been vacant since the Richardson descendents moved out, and it is deteriorating. The roofs have leaked and the building has sustained substantial water damage.
They now figure they can afford to carry the property only a few months longer, and are trying to sell it with an unusual condition. They've attached a restriction that the buyer must preserve a portion of the home -- the front exterior and four rooms -- which they describe as the most elegant and, because Richardson worked, slept, and entertained there, the most historically significant section.
However, if no one buys the house by November, they will lift the restrictions and a buyer would be free to do whatever he or she wants .
``We don't want to see a tear-down and a mega-mansion put up," said Frederic Hoppin, a retired physician. ``I firmly believe this house is very important, and I'd like it to be preserved. But we've kept it from being torn down for six years and we can't go on much longer."
The Hoppins are asking for $2.5 million, and estimate restoration could cost at least $1.5 million.
Meanwhile, Roger Reed, a preservation planning official for the Town of Brookline, said the house will soon receive a national historic landmark designation from the US Department of the Interior. That may help raise awareness about its condition and significance, but the landmark status does not confer any protections .
Built by the wealthy merchant Samuel Gardner Perkins in 1803, the house is one of three similar structures owned by Caribbean traders that remain in Brookline's Green Hill neighborhood, a national historic district.
Richardson is credited with the first distinctly American architectural style, known as Richardsonian Romanesque. Characterized by a powerful use of arches, towers, and big, rough stone walls, all with contrasting colors and textures and rich detail, the style dominated the late 1800s.
Raised in New Orleans and educated at Harvard and in France (a rarity for American architects then), Richardson moved to Brookline to build his most celebrated work, Trinity Church in Copley Square . He remained there to design the Back Bay's First Baptist Church, Harvard's Sever Hall, and libraries in Woburn, North Easton, Quincy, and Malden, among other buildings around the country.
He influenced other great American architects. Charles McKim and Stanford White were former employees, and their firm McKim, Mead, and White designed the old Boston Public Library. Louis Sullivan , the Boston-born father of the American skyscraper, took inspiration from Richardson, as did Sullivan's famous student, Frank Lloyd Wright . The firm that began at the Brookline house lives on as Shepley, Bulfinch, Richardson, and Abbott , where Richardson's descendents worked until 1990, when great-grandson Hugh Shepley retired.
Richardson began leasing the Brookline house in 1874 from a Harvard chum, Edward Hooper , and lived there until he died, at age 47, in 1886 of a kidney disease. A large picture of the larger-than-life Richardson is perched on the mantel of one of the house's nine fireplaces.
Known for his lust for life -- Richardson died weighing more than 300 pounds and $200,000 in debt -- he threw soirées that were attended by his famous friend down the road, celebrated landscape designer Frederick Law Olmsted, who moved to the neighborhood to live near Richardson.
Richardson left his mark on the Brookline house's interior. In the main entry hall, a broad staircase leads past stained-glass windows and a Richardson-designed Moorish screen to the bedroom, which the chronically ill architect eventually turned into his studio.
Fascinated with medieval designs, Richardson created the Moorish-style ceiling pattern, along with the wooden spindle screen atop a snug window seat. He hung drawings on the cork walls and built a hoist with three metal ceiling hooks to pull himself out of bed.
Richardson added one-story wooden drafting rooms, nicknamed ``the coops," that could accommodate more than 40 workers. They were later torn down, along with his library, in 1895.
A new buyer would also be free to tear down the cramped rear portions that aren't protected by the Hoppins' current restriction and build modern additions, said John Petraglia, the realtor selling the home.
If a single buyer isn't found soon, Merrill H. Diamond, who has redeveloped other properties nearby, said he would be interested in converting it to condominiums if neighbors are not opposed.
``I would hope at that point people would want to see a historic property preserved, rather than having it torn down simply to preserve a single-family neighborhood," he said. ``I think the opportunity is there, and in the final analysis it may be the only way to save the house."
Alan Galper , a lawyer with Sherin and Lodgen and co founder of the Committee to Save the H.H. Richardson House, said he and other preservationists will meet in September to discuss ways to find other buyers who will preserve the house and perhaps put it to other uses, such as an academic research center, an architect's office, or a bed and breakfast. He said he fears that once the restrictions are lifted the house will sell quickly to a buyer who will tear it down.
``The Hoppins have gone beyond what anyone would expect, at great emotional and financial cost," Galper said. ``I'll be very concerned if by September there are no viable buyers. We'll have to look at institutional buyers, because once you say you're no longer going down the route of preserving, it will go very quickly." 