INTEREST IN ARMENIAN MUSEUM AT BANK BUILDING STILL STRONG, ANSWER MAN FINDS
By John Kelly
AZG DAILY
24-02-2009
Today I was at the corner of 14th and G streets NW, and once
again I wondered what the story is on the southeast corner of that
intersection, where the National Bank of Washington and Hahn Shoes
were. It's quite a handsome building. But with all that has been going
on in downtown Washington, I'm surprised it is allowed to remain an
eyesore. -- Marilyn A. Jones, Washington
Answer Man first answered this question in 2004. Back then, he said
that the handsome 1925 structure -- designed by Alfred C. Bossom and
Jules-Henri de Sibour in the Classical Revival style, with touches
of the Baroque -- would reopen in 2008 as a museum devoted to the
Armenian genocide.
You will recall that 2008 came and went, and there is no museum. I
asked Rouben Adalian, director of the Armenian National Institute,
what's taking so long. He said there are several factors. Usually
you assemble a museum collection and then build a building to put it
in. "In this case, the property came first," he said. Wealthy Armenian
Americans purchased the building, and several adjacent properties,
and donated it to Rouben's group for a museum. "So we've had to think
about how to create the museum following the purchase of the property."
Another complication is that both the exterior and interior of the
building have historic designation protection. Martinez & Johnson
Architects and museum designers Gallagher & Associates can't just
rip out the inside and start from scratch.
Finally, this isn't the greatest time to be raising money.
But Rouben was gracious enough to let Answer Man inside to take a
look -- with a video camera. (Check out the exclusive footage at
http://www.washingtonpost.com/johnkelly.)
Answ er Man can report that it's like entering a beautiful
post-apocalyptic time capsule. A wall clock is stopped at 3:18. Deposit
slips sit in drawers. The interior is incredibly ornate, with an
intricate coffered ceiling, large arched windows and enormous columns.
When the bank opened -- as the Federal-American Bank -- it was the
first to have the banking room on the second floor. This reduced noise
from the street and served as a security measure: Robbers would have
to run down a flight of stairs or take the elevator.
Some of the tellers' counters date to the bank's earliest days. A
tiny plaque on one reads "Patent 1,673,639. John Poole." Poole,
the bank's president, invented an open counter system that replaced
the individual tellers' cages that had been common before. (Poole
wrote that the cages and tiny windows through which business was
traditionally conducted "keep the customer and teller from personal
contact and prevent the cultivation of friendly relations.")
Downstairs, a massive circular safe door opens onto the safe deposit
boxes. They look like they've been ransacked, the drawers open, tiny
keys dangling from each lock. In some rooms, paint curls from the
walls. Engineers have drilled holes to test walls and foundations,
leaving piles of concrete and plaster dust. But there's still a
certain grandeur about the building.
The centenary of the Armenian genocide -- the killing of 1.5 million
Armenians at the hands of the Turks -- is in 2015. "It'd be ideal to
have [the museum] open way before then," said Rouben.
Is there a mystery structure you'd like to see the inside of? Maybe
Answer Man can gain access. Send a request to [email protected] .
By John Kelly
AZG DAILY
24-02-2009
Today I was at the corner of 14th and G streets NW, and once
again I wondered what the story is on the southeast corner of that
intersection, where the National Bank of Washington and Hahn Shoes
were. It's quite a handsome building. But with all that has been going
on in downtown Washington, I'm surprised it is allowed to remain an
eyesore. -- Marilyn A. Jones, Washington
Answer Man first answered this question in 2004. Back then, he said
that the handsome 1925 structure -- designed by Alfred C. Bossom and
Jules-Henri de Sibour in the Classical Revival style, with touches
of the Baroque -- would reopen in 2008 as a museum devoted to the
Armenian genocide.
You will recall that 2008 came and went, and there is no museum. I
asked Rouben Adalian, director of the Armenian National Institute,
what's taking so long. He said there are several factors. Usually
you assemble a museum collection and then build a building to put it
in. "In this case, the property came first," he said. Wealthy Armenian
Americans purchased the building, and several adjacent properties,
and donated it to Rouben's group for a museum. "So we've had to think
about how to create the museum following the purchase of the property."
Another complication is that both the exterior and interior of the
building have historic designation protection. Martinez & Johnson
Architects and museum designers Gallagher & Associates can't just
rip out the inside and start from scratch.
Finally, this isn't the greatest time to be raising money.
But Rouben was gracious enough to let Answer Man inside to take a
look -- with a video camera. (Check out the exclusive footage at
http://www.washingtonpost.com/johnkelly.)
Answ er Man can report that it's like entering a beautiful
post-apocalyptic time capsule. A wall clock is stopped at 3:18. Deposit
slips sit in drawers. The interior is incredibly ornate, with an
intricate coffered ceiling, large arched windows and enormous columns.
When the bank opened -- as the Federal-American Bank -- it was the
first to have the banking room on the second floor. This reduced noise
from the street and served as a security measure: Robbers would have
to run down a flight of stairs or take the elevator.
Some of the tellers' counters date to the bank's earliest days. A
tiny plaque on one reads "Patent 1,673,639. John Poole." Poole,
the bank's president, invented an open counter system that replaced
the individual tellers' cages that had been common before. (Poole
wrote that the cages and tiny windows through which business was
traditionally conducted "keep the customer and teller from personal
contact and prevent the cultivation of friendly relations.")
Downstairs, a massive circular safe door opens onto the safe deposit
boxes. They look like they've been ransacked, the drawers open, tiny
keys dangling from each lock. In some rooms, paint curls from the
walls. Engineers have drilled holes to test walls and foundations,
leaving piles of concrete and plaster dust. But there's still a
certain grandeur about the building.
The centenary of the Armenian genocide -- the killing of 1.5 million
Armenians at the hands of the Turks -- is in 2015. "It'd be ideal to
have [the museum] open way before then," said Rouben.
Is there a mystery structure you'd like to see the inside of? Maybe
Answer Man can gain access. Send a request to [email protected] .