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Author: Inga Saffron

Historic preservation isn’t the villain in the debate over housing affordability

No matter what folks in Boston tell you, Philadelphia is America’s most historic big city. So why is architectural preservation increasingly under attack here, especially as Philadelphia gets ready for its star turn in the nation’s 250th birthday celebrations?

The movement to protect Philadelphia’s rich and varied architectural heritage was thrown into disarray Feb. 26 when a Court of Common Pleas judge invalidated the historic district created in 2024 to protect Washington Square West, a neighborhood that includes both Colonial-era masterpieces and nationally important infill buildings from the 1960s urban renewal period.

Judge Christopher R. Hall’s decision primarily focused on procedural issues and could be reversed if it’s appealed. Yet it is just one of several existential threats facing the preservation regimen that has guided the city for the last 40 years.

His decision is likely to encourage a group of developers who are challenging the Spruce Hill historic district, which also was created in 2024. It could similarly embolden Councilmember Mark Squilla, a former preservation champion who once created a controversial zoning carve-out to protect a one-story supermarket in Society Hill. Having jumped on the anti-preservation bandwagon, he’s now pushing legislation that many believe would gut the powers of the Historical Commission.

While the issues driving each of these challenges vary, it’s no accident that they’re happening at a time when people are increasingly concerned about rising housing costs. For years, pro-development activists have argued that there is a link between the city’s historic preservation laws and the scarcity of affordable housing. By adding an extra layer of regulation, they contend, those laws restrict where people can build, limit new construction, and raise maintenance costs for homeowners.

There’s no doubt that the city’s preservation laws require owners of historic properties to go through an extra step in the approval process. That takes time and can sometimes add to the cost of a project.

Yet it seems odd that pro-development activists have cast historic preservation as the main villain when so many factors influence the city’s housing supply: zoning regulations, interest rates, availability of labor, cost of construction materials. President Donald Trump’s tariffs alone sent the price of lumber soaring in the last year.

In an effort to put things in perspective, the nonprofit Preservation Alliance recently commissioned an economic analysis to explore its impact on housing prices. The report made two interesting observations: Apartments in older buildings rent for less than those in new ones. And protecting those older buildings actually helps maintain a supply of “naturally occurring affordable housing.”

The study, prepared by the Washington-based Place Economics, also examined claims that historic districts are enclaves for the wealthy and exclude renters. Data show the opposite: Historic districts continue to gain new residents long after they been designated. In fact, between 2010 and 2020, the population of Philadelphia’s historic districts grew almost five times as fast as the city as a whole, which suggests new housing is being built despite the additional oversight.

Not all that construction takes the form of new buildings, however. Even in the best of economic times, erecting a new apartment building in Philadelphia is far more expensive than fixing up an old one. As a result, the city has come to rely on older buildings to provide new housing. Without them, Philadelphia would be a much less affordable place.

In the past, the city’s obsolete offices and factories were the main targets for housing conversion. Those buildings are relatively easy to adapt because they have large, rectangular footprints.

But what about smaller, more irregularly shaped historic buildings? Are the city’s preservation and zoning laws flexible enough to allow more density in old townhouses, which, after all, constitute the bulk of Philadelphia building stock?

This sprawling complex of 19th-century buildings at 15th and Waverly Streets is being converted to a 32-unit apartment building by Lo Design for developer Keith Alliotts. By installing a penthouse level over the former stable (rear left), the architects will be able to improve the interior circulation and increase the density.

Converting townhouses into apartments

To understand the role those buildings can play in the great Yimby-Nimby debates, I reached out to Lea and Evan Litvin, who run Lo Design, an award-winning firm that has its offices in the Rittenhouse-Fitler historic district. Lo Design started out doing single-family homes for developers, but lately they’ve taken on commissions to turn large townhouses into apartments.

Small conversions are more labor-intensive than erecting a new townhouse on an empty site, but they allow the Litvins to do work that aligns with their architectural ideals. The conversions create more housing for less money, using fewer natural resources. “Saving an old building is the most sustainable form of construction,” Evan explained.

Since Philadelphia’s historic townhouses were never meant for multiple tenants, and often have awkward layouts, the Litvins have developed architectural tricks to make them function as apartment buildings. Sometimes that means attaching a new wing on the back. In other cases, they’ve built freestanding structures in backyards.

Their current project at 15th and Waverly Streets used a little of everything to transform a historic Greek Revival mansion into a 32-unit building.

The brick building began its life in 1860 as a private home, complete with a stable. At some point, someone popped on a mansard roof to create a fourth story and added wings on the sides. Then, in the early 20th century, the mansion, stable, and a neighboring townhouse were fused into a single building that served as offices for what was then known as the Society to Protect Children from Cruelty.

For the project’s developer, Keith Alliotts, the building’s main attraction was its size — 26,000 square feet, significantly larger than a typical townhouse, which might be 6,000 square feet. He also liked that the location, a few steps from the former University of the Arts’ Hamilton Hall, felt like part of the Rittenhouse Square neighborhood.

Yet the challenges of transforming the awkward amalgamation into a coherent, multifamily residence soon became clear. None of the floors in the different buildings lined up. The U-shaped footprint complicated the flow through the building. The interior was a mashup of Victorian and post-modern details. On top of everything else, the project would need a zoning variance and approval from the Historical Commission.

Lo Design plans to create an internal courtyard at the center of a new residential building at 15th and Waverly. The project will turn a group of historic 19th-century buildings into a 32-unit apartment building.

Getting those permits turned out to be the easy part, the Litvins said. Because the complex had been empty for years and was starting to deteriorate, the neighborhood enthusiastically embraced the idea of using it for apartments.

From the start, the Litvins knew they would have to expand the already sprawling complex to ensure the apartment layouts weren’t too eccentric. Fortunately, there was a large yard behind the house where they could add a new wing to turn the U into an O. They decided to install a large penthouse on top of the stable and insert several connecting passages to improve the interior circulation.

This diagram shows how LoDesign plans to turn an awkward amalgamation of 19th century buildings at 15th and Waverly Streets into a coherent, multifamily building with 32 apartments. The portions in blue will be added during construction.

While reusing these buildings was no easy feat, the project is a good example of “gentle density.” The neighborhood gets more rental housing, yet the look of the 19th-century mansion remains substantially the same.

By comparison, the first collaboration between the Litvins and Alliotts was a breeze. Alliotts had spent most of his career developing single-family housing in North Jersey before “discovering” Philadelphia during the pandemic. Coming from such a pricey environment, he said, “I was really taken aback by the city’s affordability.” After studying the market here, he fell for an early 20th-century brownstone on the 2000 block of West Girard Avenue in Francisville.

The townhouse could have been torn down

Despite the house’s impressive architecture, it wasn’t listed on the city’s historic register. That meant Alliotts could have demolished the building for something new, an approach taken by several other developers on that once-elegant stretch of Girard Avenue.

Alliotts liked the house too much to destroy it. And since the site was unusually deep, he knew he could fit the equivalent of a second house in the yard. But rather than build another stand-alone house, he asked the Litvins to fit a 12-unit condo building in the same space. Alliotts envisioned the condos — now called The Francis — as starter homes, so he wanted to keep the prices below $300,000 for a two-bedroom unit.

Still, 12 units is a lot of density, even for a generous townhouse yard that was 200 by 31 feet. By making a donation to the city’s Housing Trust Fund, Alliotts was able to get a zoning bonus that allowed him to raise the structure’s height to 45 feet, enough for a fourth story.

To avoid jamming the new, metal-clad building against the old brownstone, the Litvins decided to push the condos toward Cambridge Street, which was once a service street lined with carriage houses. That gave the architects space to create a landscaped courtyard between the two buildings.

Lo Design was able to create nine apartments in the Spring Garden neighborhood by replacing a small garage with a three-unit apartment building in the garden of an early 20th-century townhouse at 2313 Green St. The project’s density was the result of a compromise with neighbors and the Philadelphia Historical Commission.

After the success of the Francis, the Litvins had hoped to replicate the model for a new project at 2313 Green St. in the Spring Garden neighborhood. The main house there had already been divided into five apartments, but the site at 238 feet was even deeper than the Girard Avenue property. They proposed a five-unit stand-alone building in the garden, accessed from alley off Wallace Street.

But this time the Historical Commission and neighbors rejected the proposal.

So, the Litvins reduced the size of the building and turned it into a carriage-house-sized structure with three units. They offset the loss of units by adding a sixth apartment to the main house for a total of nine units.

The garage on the right will be replaced by a three-unit building that is part of the redevelopment of 2313 Green St. It will be accessed through an alley off Wallace Street in the Spring Garden neighborhood.

Some preservation opponents may see the outcome as an example of the nickel-and-diming that occurs when developers attempt to add density to historic properties.

But the fact that a former single-family house will soon accommodate nine apartments reveals the untapped density in Philadelphia’s historic buildings. These conversions prove more housing can be created without sacrificing the city’s heritage.

March 3, 2026
Yo, Philly! There’s no need to move the Rocky statue

To hear the Parker administration officials tell it, moving the Rocky statue from the bottom of the Philadelphia Art Museum steps to the top is a victory for the underdog.

The new location, which received a green light from the Art Commission on Jan. 14, will certainly create a dramatic, Instagrammable moment for tourists, and further elevate the Rocky brand (and value).

But it’s no victory for Philadelphia residents, who remain the true underdog in this saga. Allowing the old movie prop to dominate the Parkway’s iconic vista is simply the latest in a series of decisions that have privatized the Art Museum’s gorgeous, landscaped grounds.

If you walk to the back of the museum, you’ll find the most egregious example of Philadelphia’s zeal for monetizing public space: the sprawling Cescaphe banquet operation at the Fairmount Water Works.

While the main Engine House had been used as a restaurant in the past, the city allowed Cescaphe to take over the entire complex in 2021. Today, the Water Works is surrounded with a cordon of server stations, portable restrooms, and covered walkways.

Since 2021, the historic Fairmount Water Works has been surrounded by a cordon of server stations and covered walkways. A glass party room prevents the public from enjoying the Mill House Deck, a pier overlooking the Schuylkill.

Cescaphe’s presence has drastically limited the public’s access to this historic landmark, a scenic spot where generations have come to stroll and take in views of the Schuylkill. Although visitors are permitted to wander though the Water Works’ classically inspired temples and colonnades when no events are going on, who would know that, given the messaging conveyed by Cescaphe’s formidable barricades?

Preparations for evening events often start in the afternoon, further limiting access. Every spring, Cescaphe installs an enormous glass party room on the pier known as the Mill House Deck. It remains in place until late fall, which means the public gets to use the overlook only during the coldest months of the year.

Rocky already has a good spot

Moving the Rocky statue to the top of the steps might seem like a modest imposition by comparison, but the new location will interfere considerably with the public’s enjoyment of the space.

Since people with mobility limitations will have trouble climbing the 72 steps to the top of the museum’s grand staircase, they’ll need transportation. The Philadelphia Visitor Center — the initial advocate for the new location — has offered to run a shuttle bus around the museum apron every 15 minutes. Better watch out when you’re taking that selfie!

During the recent Art Commission hearings, the city’s two top cultural officials, Valerie V. Gay and Marguerite Anglin, argued that the Rocky statue deserves a higher profile perch because it’s a unique tourist attraction. They noted that the statue has been the subject of books and podcasts and will soon be the focus of a major Art Museum exhibition, “Rising Up: Rocky and the Making of Monuments,” curated by Monument Lab’s Paul Farber.

Yet, given the added complications, it’s hard to understand what the city gains by changing the statue’s location.

Rocky’s current home — a shady grove at the bottom of the steps — has been a huge success. The statue was installed there in 2006, after years of shuttling around Philadelphia, from the museum to the sports complex and back. In a typical year, 4 million people make the pilgrimage to see Rocky, the same number who visit the Statue of Liberty annually.

The Rocky statue, currently at the base of the Art Museum steps, is easily accessible to visitors and tour groups.

Because the grove is so close to the street, there are no accessibility issues. Tour buses and cars can pull up to the curb, allowing people to jump out for a quick selfie. Sometimes there’s a line for photos, but the mood is always festive, with visitors and locals mingling along the sidewalk. Anyone who wants to reenact the fictional boxer’s run up the museum stairs can do that, too.

Yes, this site occupies a piece of the museum’s grounds. But the intrusion is relatively discreet. Considering how well this location works, why change it? It’s not like there was a huge public clamor to give Rocky more prominence. When Inquirer columnist Stephanie Farr polled readers in September, most respondents said they were happy to keep the statue in its current location — or get rid of it entirely.

Only a single person testified at the Art Commission’s Jan. 14 hearing — and he argued against the move. Several civic organizations, including the Design Advocacy Group (DAG), sent written statements urging the city to reject the proposal.

“All we’re doing is glorifying Sylvester Stallone, who sells merchandise at bottom of the steps,” complained David Brownlee, a member of the DAG board and a renowned University of Pennsylvania art historian who has written a history of the Art Museum.

Those Stallone-licensed souvenirs are sold in the “Rocky Shop,” a metal shipping container that was allowed to encroach on the plaza at the base of the museum steps in 2023. Although the metal structure doesn’t take up as much public land as Cescaphe’s banquet operation, it clunks up the approach to the museum’s elegant stone staircase.

The Parkway Visitor Center & Rocky Shop at the base of the Philadelphia Art Museum steps Jan. 20, 2026. In 2023, the city allowed Sylvestor Stallone to set up the metal shipping container at the base of the Philadelphia Art Museum steps.

Initial reports said the Visitor Center, which pushed for the shop, would get a cut of the sales. Yet when I asked how much money that partnership had yielded, a spokesperson for the independent tourism agency declined to answer. The Visitor Center is now run by Kathryn Ott Lovell, who was parks commissioner when the department signed off on Cescaphe’s 2021 expansion at the Water Works.

The exorbitant cost of moving

What jumped out at me during the Art Commission hearing was the cost of moving the bronze sculpture and setting it up on a new base.

Creative Philadelphia, the city department overseeing the move, originally estimated the job would run about $150,000. Now it says the price could rise to $250,000. Those figures don’t include the cost of operating the shuttle, which will be borne by the Visitor Center.

To put those numbers in context, consider the base payment the city receives from Cescaphe annually for operating a banquet hall at the Water Works: $290,000.

When Cescaphe was given permission to occupy the Water Works complex in 2021, the city said the arrangement was necessary because the parks department could no longer afford to adequately maintain the property. In addition to rent, the agreement generated about $187,000 annually in concession fees between 2015 and 2022 for the city.

That income isn’t peanuts, but is it really worth severely limiting public access to such an iconic Philadelphia landmark? What’s the point of monetizing our parks if the businesses prevent us from enjoying them?

Except for a few months during the winter, the Mill House Deck pier at the Fairmount Water Works is covered with Cescaphe’s glass party room, making it impossible for Philadelphians to enjoy the space.

The privatization of such beloved sites is the direct result of city government’s unwillingness to properly fund its parks. For years, Philadelphia has spent far less than peer cities on green space. Maintenance declined to the point where some parks became unusable.

Rather than devote more money to this basic public amenity, the city has increasingly outsourced its parks to private managers. Enormously popular destinations, such as Dilworth Park and Franklin Square, are run by independent groups.

Cescaphe, a banquet company, has surrounded the Fairmount Water Works with a cordon of arcades, server stations and portable restrooms since it began holding events there in 2021.

But there’s a crucial difference between those private managers and the likes of Cescaphe. First, they’re nonprofits, not businesses. They exist to serve the public. While it’s frustrating when they close their parks for private fundraising events, all the money they raise goes back into improving the parks for the public’s use.

With the Cescaphe deal, the city has crossed a line. Cescaphe is a money-making business that runs the Water Works for its own benefit. In theory, the rent and concession fees are supposed to be invested in the maintenance of the complex, which was considered one of the wonders of the world when it opened in 1815. But it’s Cescaphe, not the public, that benefits from the improvements.

It’s not even clear that Cescaphe is doing the promised maintenance. The Engine House suffered a serious fire in November, and the company still has several outstanding building code violations.

When asked about the citations, a spokesperson for Parks & Recreation described the infractions as minor. “Cescaphe has been a great partner,” Commissioner Sue Slawson said in a statement.

To be clear, there is a big difference between leasing a public building to a restaurant concession and privatizing public space for the sole use of a single business. Restaurants are open to everyone. They also provide services, such as restrooms, that the public can use. It’s a win-win: The city makes a little money on the deal, and the public gets a nice amenity.

The city had the right idea when it leased the Water Works’ Engine House to a restaurateur in the early 2000s. But instead of finding a replacement when that restaurant shut down in 2015, the city turned the complex over to Cescaphe. This April the banquet company’s lease will come up for renewal. It’s time to go back to the original model.

Wouldn’t it be great to grab a sandwich at a Water Works cafe after a long walk or bike ride along the Schuylkill River Trail? The trail, which just completed a spectacular extension, does not have a single cafe between its new Grays Ferry terminus and the museum, apart from a small snack bar at Lloyd Hall. Philadelphia has plenty of great restaurateurs who would jump at the chance to operate in a prime spot like the Water Works.

People have framed the Rocky discussion as a clash between elites, who object to the glorification of a movie prop as art, and the mass of fans who believe the statue embodies their aspirations.

The reality is, there’s nothing less democratic than turning over the public’s land to private companies driven by their own gain.

An earlier version of this column listed FDR Park as one of several city parks that are run by private managers. The Philadelphia Department of Parks & Recreation operates the park and provides workers to staff it.

This story has been updated to remove the Schuylkill River Trail from a list of private managers because the Schuylkill River Development Corp. has a different type of contractual agreement with Philadelphia’s Department of Parks & Recreation and does not lease the land it oversees.

When it opened in 1815 to provide the growing city with a reliable supply of drinking water, the Fairmount Water Works was a major engineering advance and was considered one of the wonders of the world.

January 22, 2026
Grids are out, brick is back, and Philadelphia architects have rediscovered the arch

It’s one of the paradoxes of Philadelphia’s 21st-century residential building boom. The more rowhouses and apartments that get built here, the more they look alike.

The streets of Fishtown and Graduate Hospital and Spruce Hill are now awash in interchangeable blocky structures, all dressed in the same dreary gray clothing, their aluminum panels shrink-wrapped around the exterior like a sheet of graph paper.

Instead of providing the kind of fine details that enlivened earlier generations of buildings, their architects try to distract us with patches of color and cheap trim.

The look is derisively known as fast-casual architecture, McUrbanism, or developer modern. No one likes these buildings, not even, I suspect, the architects who stamp the drawings. But because they are cheap and easy to build, the no-frills grids have emerged as a developer standard across America.

As bad as they might look in newer cities, their flat, lifeless facades are especially jarring in Philadelphia, where even humble rowhouses are animated by varied textures of brick and recessed windows.

While there’s little chance that developers will start building them like they used to, a few Philadelphia architects have thrown a curve into the works. The arch, which traces its origins to Roman times, is making a comeback.

Once you start looking around the city, you can’t help but see contemporary arches and rounded corners everywhere: on metal-clad rowhouses and brick-faced apartment buildings, in restaurant dining rooms and hotel lobbies.

This small apartment building at Second and Race Streets in Old City breaks up the usual grid with arched windows on the ground floor and irregularly spaced windows. Morrissey Design created the facade.

The rise of the arch

To be clear, today’s arches bear only a faint familial resemblance to their brawny predecessors, which come in all sizes and architectural styles, and typically have a large keystone at the apex. Those old masonry arches were workhorses that helped buildings stand up.

But as construction methods advanced in the early 20th century, arches ceased to have a structural purpose. The changes coincided with the rise of modernism, which largely eschewed the form in favor of straight lines, at least until the 1960s, when architects such as Louis Kahn and Robert Venturi — both Philadelphians — began sneaking them back into architecture.

Arches started reappearing on Philadelphia buildings about a decade ago, after Bright Common ’s Jeremy Avellino marked the entrance to his Kensington Yards project with an exaggerated arc that seems to be descended from the famous Chestnut Hill house that Venturi designed for his mother. Even though the gesture was also a nod to the arched windows on the 19th-century townhouse next door, Avellino intentionally emphasized his building’s contemporary look by cladding it in metal. He considers his arches as nothing more than a “geometric memory.”

The new-wave arches come from a different place. Although they certainly help architects break free from the oppressive grid, arches help their contemporary designs blend in better with their neighbors.

The design for this three-story apartment building at 1716 Frankford Ave. uses shallow, industrial-style arches to enliven the facade. The project, which was designed by Gnome Architects for developer Roland Kassis, was expected to break ground in December.

Eschewing look-alikes

It’s no accident that arches began to proliferate just as brick was enjoying a revival as a building material in Philadelphia. Roland Kassis, a Fishtown developer who is responsible for several buildings with arches on Frankford Avenue and Front Street, says he first began using brick for building facades as a reaction against the poor quality of fast casual architecture.

Even though brick took more time and expertise to install, and ultimately cost slightly more than other materials, he felt it was worth it because it set his projects apart from the competition and signaled quality to potential renters. Later, he added arches.

Most of Kassis’ buildings that feature arches have been designed by Gnome Architects. They include a new mid-rise apartment building and a small hotel that are now under construction on Frankford Avenue.

While Gnome’s use of the arches is a way of paying homage to Fishtown’s industrial past, the firm’s most interesting design is less referential. Located at 17 Girard Ave., the skinny, mixed-used building features brick-framed oval windows that float up the facade like elongated soap bubbles. It functions as a sort of urban lighthouse at the entrance to Fishtown.

Gnome’s new three-unit apartment building at 17 Girard Ave. in Fishtown is an exuberant counterpoint to the straight lines of Philadelphia’s traditional brick facades.

Several other Philadelphia architects have embraced arches in their work for developers, including Digsau, KJO Architecture, and Morrissey Design. What unites their aesthetic is a strong interest in craft. They’re not just pasting factory-made brick panels onto facades; they’re hiring skilled workers from Philadelphia’s bricklayers union to lay the blocks on site, one at a time.

That kind of craftwork isn’t something architects usually learn in school. To ensure that he gets the arches right, Gnome’s Gabriel Deck signed up for the International Masonry Institute’s training camp, where he tried his hand at using a trowel and spreading mortar. Digsau’s Mark Sanderson, who used a variety of arch types for Wilmington’s Cooper apartments, jokes that “we have the institute on speed dial.”

The institute’s regional director, Casey Weisdock, says she’s noticed an uptick in both the use of brick and modern interpretations of the arch. She attributes brick’s newfound popularity to the Biophilic design movement, which believes natural construction materials are better for people’s health and can improve their moods.

“A brick has a human quality,” she says. “A block fits right into your hand.”

This massive apartment building on Lancaster Avenue, ANOVA uCity Square, typifies the plodding, graph paper-inspired architecture that is sweeping America. It was designed by Lessard Design on the site of the former University City High School, which is now home to life science complex called uCity.

Digsau has a long history of incorporating wood and brick into its projects, yet the firm started adding arches into the mix only a few years ago. Like other architects, Sanderson, one of Digsau’s founders, says he was frustrated that design is increasingly dictated by financial models that result in the mass production of look-alike apartment buildings. Arches were a way of breaking out of that rut.

The rebellion against straight lines and slick facades has spread to other big cities, and now even big corporate architects who specialize in skyscrapers are playing with bricks and arches. Pelli Clarke Pelli, which is responsible for designing many of the crystalline towers along the Schuylkill, just dropped a ring of soaring arches into Boston’s newly renovated South Station. (Of course, staying true to type, the firm’s tower, located on top of the station, is still a blue glass ice sculpture.)

Pelli Clarke Pelli inserted these almost parabolic arches into Boston’s newly refurbished South Station.

The urge for curves extends into interior design. Furniture showrooms overflow with tub chairs and sofas with curved backs. Virtually every surface at Enswell, an upscale Center City cocktail lounge designed by Stokes Architecture & Design, bends and flows in some way. The firm is responsible for several rounded counters in Philadelphia’s cafes and was part of the team that created Borromini’s interior arches.

“You hear the words ‘comfy and cozy’ used a lot these days,” and the arch is one way to achieve that, says architect Brian Phillips, the founding principal at ISA. Interestingly, it’s hard to find arches in any of the firm’s work, which relies on textured materials, strategic cutaways, and complex geometry to animate its work. ISA did, however, introduce an arch and some curves for the Frankie’s Summer Club pop-up at the former University of the Arts building.

The fashion for arches and curves has also spread to interior design. Stephen Starr’s new Borromini restaurant on Rittenhouse Square — collaboratively designed by Keith McNally, Ian McPheely, and Stokes Architecture & Design — includes a curved banquette and dramatic, tiled arches in the main dining room.

While the arches have allowed architects to fight back against the deadening sameness of Developer Modern, the new style risks becoming its own cliche.

So far, those Philadelphia architects who include arches in their work haven’t embraced the literal historicism of Robert Stern, but neither have they come up with anything as groundbreaking as the exaggerated and ironic forms introduced by Venturi and his partner, Denise Scott Brown. In some cases, the use of arches seems arbitrary — merely decorative, to use the modernist critique. And arches aren’t always well integrated into the composition.

The most satisfying of Philadelphia’s new-wave brick buildings has plenty of curves, but no arches. Bloc24, a small condo building on 24th Street between South and Bainbridge, is a bravura essay in different styles of brickwork.

A curving screen made from bull-nose bricks, laid on the diagonal, sweeps across the facade. Because it protrudes several feet from the surface, it functions as a giant bay window. While it’s a stretch, you could consider the stylish, curved cut-out at the entrance a sideways arch.

While Bloc24, by Moto Designshop, has no arches, it is a bravura essay in brick styles and features plenty of curves. The new condo building is located on 24th Street, between South and Bainbridge.

The brickwork on Moto Designshop’s Bloc 24, at 24th and South, is anything but flat.

Bloc24 was designed by Moto Designshop, the firm responsible for the intricate brick chapel at St. Joseph’s University. Moto has made intricate brickwork its signature, and, unlike those designs that use brick as a veneer, every detail of Bloc24 is integrated into the overall concept.

Perhaps the most out-of-the-box use of the arch can be found at Avellino’s Mi Casa houses, a group of rowhouses in tropical colors that he designed as affordable housing for Xiente (formerly the Norris Square Community Alliance). Because the sites are scattered around the neighborhood, often on very narrow lots, he was unable to replicate the standard, double window pattern found on most Philadelphia rowhouses. Instead, he used single arched windows, placed asymmetrically to energize the facades.

There isn’t a single brick in sight, evidence that the arch has come full circle.

Arched windows define this tropical pink house, part of group of affordable houses built on infill sites in the Norris Square neighborhood. Bright Common’s Jeremy Avellino used the arches to energize the narrow facades.

December 19, 2025