In an earlier post for Artblog, I drew connections between our bodies and the buildings we inhabit, especially in the context of the quarantine due to the coronavirus. Until then, the building continues to develop from within, growing up and out of the corset-like strip of brick and mortar of the ancient, antebellum walls. Based on architectural renderings on a perimeter fence at the site, the mansard roof–or a facsimile of it–reappears in the final design of City House Charles, a 7-story, mixed-use office and retail building, scheduled to open next spring. A mansard roof, added in the 1890s, was removed as well. The property, a pair of 3-story red-brick rowhouses that stood at the northeast corner of Charles and Eager Streets since 1854– and dubbed “ Rum Row” during a 1940s bout of post-Prohibition teetotalism, was torn down earlier this year its second- and third-floor facades, however, have been preserved, held in place by an elaborate structure of angled wooden struts propping them up in the air. The building I will always remember as Grand Central, one of Baltimore’s most beloved LGBTQIA establishments– was demolished this past winter to make room for a newer, taller, more modern building –or, most of it was anyway. Holding on to the Past while Ruining the Present: From Rum Row to Grand Central to City House Charles
