A glass-and-steel-filled restoration is not the way to recreate the historical Manhattan Casino, City Council members say.
By JON WILSON
Published June 16, 2004
ST. PETERSBURG - Hold the glitz, please.
That's what City Council members said last week at a workshop about renovations to the historical Manhattan Casino, a 1920s building on 22nd Street S known for big dances featuring the biggest names in jazz and blues.
The City Council ordered the project back to the drawing board. A new version is expected soon.
Planners had shown the policymakers pictures of a glassy new structure intended to be attached to the old building.
Nope, said council members, it won't do.
"I really looked at it and said this is unconscionable to do to this building," said Virginia Littrell. "Adding this thing would probably do a minimal amount of damage. However, the context of the building was totally devastated by the enclosure of steel and glass."
Manhattan renovation, expected to cost as much as $2.8-million, is viewed as a key element in the revival of 22nd Street S. The street once was a thriving business and entertainment district in the heart of an African-American neighborhood.
Council member Earnest Williams said he wants to see the Manhattan re-established as a community destination. He said he wants to avoid a spiritless update of a structure that evokes affectionate memories from people who attended events there.
"I've tried to convey that we want to get the feeling," Williams said. "This was a place where people gathered. We want the heart and soul of it rather than the mortar and bricks."
Some residents brought up concerns about the design at Saturday's town hall meeting at Wildwood Recreation Center, Williams said.
The 12,000-square-foot building is not fancy. Its significance lies in its role for more than 40 years as a social hub for black residents. Besides the big-band shows, it provided a venue for school and fraternal events, and gospel stars made it a regular stop.
In addition, the Manhattan provided one of the rare segregation era spots where black and white residents mingled. Performers such as Louis Armstrong always drew large, mixed crowds.
The building poses a tough problem for preservationists.
"The building has been altered so many times, people have ideas or thoughts about what it was, and maybe aren't 100 percent sure of what it (looked like)," said Bob Jeffrey, the city's manager for design and historic preservation.
The original building permit was issued in 1925 to African-American pioneer Elder Jordan. Six apartments and a garage were planned, according to records. A service station permit was issued four months later.
The second floor eventually was converted into the dance hall, which served as the music venue and community meeting spot. Through the years, businesses came and went on the first floor, and the first-floor interior was altered several times.
There also is anecdotal evidence the building at times included awning-like overhangs.
A quest is on for photographs to show what the building's exterior looked like years ago, Littrell said.
"We're going to try to get it back to looking like the real thing," she said.
