Geobrickology, Part 2: Detail of Old St. Patrick's Catholic Church, Near West Side, Chicago, Illinois, USA (1856)
(Updated May 14, 2024)
Scaling the heights of Cream City Brick on the church's southern bell tower. For an overall view of this distinctive house of worship, see Part 1.
Also visible in this image is a window sill and other trim of Silurian-period Lemont-Joliet Dolostone, the city's most widely used variety of Chicagoland's native building stone.
Milwaukeean friends of mine have the right to ask, "Why are you beginning your discussion of our famous brick by showing it used in Chicago, the Evil City of the Flatlanders, of all places!?! This is outright heresy! We have scads of beautiful buildings made of the stuff! Why don't you feature them instead?"
Chill out, you Cheeseheads. I love Milwaukee and its brick and buildings and geology so much I've just written a whole book on the Cream City (NIU imprint of Cornell University Press, due out in spring of 2024). I just happened to start with Old St. Pat's because it was covered in my already-published Chicago in Stone and Clay (also see the publisher's link, below). And you should be proud that your brick has been used in so many places besides your own home town.
I like this particular shot because it reveals both Cream City Brick's lovely pale-yellow tint and its propensity to show off its collected soot a little more overtly than most other building materials.
As I hope to eventually show, some of Milwaukee's most magnificent buildings (e.g., Old St. Mary's Catholic Church), are now almost completely black rather than cream-colored, largely because they are survivors from the Age of Bituminous Coal Burning. But, as I write in my forthcoming tome, I'm an unrepentant fuligophile (grime aesthete) who has the brazen temerity to actually like the brick that way. And I like the dark highlights (lowlights?) on the St. Pat's facade, too. That moderate amount of gunk adds character. I hope no misguided restorationists ever try to clean it off.
The next photo in this set will show the Cream City Brick here at close range. That will be the perfect time to discuss its glacial and fluviatile origins in Milwaukee's river valleys.
For more on this site, see my book Chicago in Stone and Clay, described at www.cornellpress.cornell.edu/book/9781501765063/chicago-i...
And the other photos and descriptions of this series can be found in my Geobrickology album.
Geobrickology, Part 2: Detail of Old St. Patrick's Catholic Church, Near West Side, Chicago, Illinois, USA (1856)
(Updated May 14, 2024)
Scaling the heights of Cream City Brick on the church's southern bell tower. For an overall view of this distinctive house of worship, see Part 1.
Also visible in this image is a window sill and other trim of Silurian-period Lemont-Joliet Dolostone, the city's most widely used variety of Chicagoland's native building stone.
Milwaukeean friends of mine have the right to ask, "Why are you beginning your discussion of our famous brick by showing it used in Chicago, the Evil City of the Flatlanders, of all places!?! This is outright heresy! We have scads of beautiful buildings made of the stuff! Why don't you feature them instead?"
Chill out, you Cheeseheads. I love Milwaukee and its brick and buildings and geology so much I've just written a whole book on the Cream City (NIU imprint of Cornell University Press, due out in spring of 2024). I just happened to start with Old St. Pat's because it was covered in my already-published Chicago in Stone and Clay (also see the publisher's link, below). And you should be proud that your brick has been used in so many places besides your own home town.
I like this particular shot because it reveals both Cream City Brick's lovely pale-yellow tint and its propensity to show off its collected soot a little more overtly than most other building materials.
As I hope to eventually show, some of Milwaukee's most magnificent buildings (e.g., Old St. Mary's Catholic Church), are now almost completely black rather than cream-colored, largely because they are survivors from the Age of Bituminous Coal Burning. But, as I write in my forthcoming tome, I'm an unrepentant fuligophile (grime aesthete) who has the brazen temerity to actually like the brick that way. And I like the dark highlights (lowlights?) on the St. Pat's facade, too. That moderate amount of gunk adds character. I hope no misguided restorationists ever try to clean it off.
The next photo in this set will show the Cream City Brick here at close range. That will be the perfect time to discuss its glacial and fluviatile origins in Milwaukee's river valleys.
For more on this site, see my book Chicago in Stone and Clay, described at www.cornellpress.cornell.edu/book/9781501765063/chicago-i...
And the other photos and descriptions of this series can be found in my Geobrickology album.