NOLA Architecture with History
Work has already begun to revitalize Old Algiers' historically significant building that's been forlorn since Hurricane Katrina.
On the way back home from a ladies lunch, we stopped at a light when I caught sight of the peaked roofline of a huge, abandoned building hunkering behind much smaller residences and gnarled oaks on General Meyer Avenue. Later, I returned to the site and stood in front of the warped chain link fence, gazing at the still-imposing structure that seemed to be staring back at me—its empty windows like hollowed eyes, its face covered in curtains of trailing vines. It was then I was able to see the tall lettering on the building's soot-stained entablature, reading, "Touro-Shakespeare Home."
Designed by local architect William R. Burk, the Touro-Shakespeare Home opened in 1933, operating as a civic almshouse, a residence for the poor and/or elderly. The architect for many civic structures in southern Louisiana, some of Burk's other designs include St. Joseph's Catholic Church (a Spanish Colonial Revival-style church on 6th Street in Gretna) and the historic Dryades Street Branch Library built in 1915, the first library open to African Americans in New Orleans. According to the Preservation Resource Center, the Touro-Shakespeare Home embodies elements of both Neo-Classical and Jacobethan Revival-styles with features such as pediments supported by Corinthian columns contrasting a decorative, diamond patterned brick facade.
The first iteration of the almshouse was constructed in the Bywater and finished in 1862 during the Civil War. The huge, Gothic structure, replete with towers and parapets, was designed by New Orleans architect William Alfred Freret Jr. and was built using donations from businessman and philanthropist Judah Touro. One of the most prominent members of the Jewish community in New Orleans at the time, Touro left a lasting legacy across the city, including the Touro Synagogue on St. Charles Avenue and Touro Infirmary on Prytania Street.
Unfortunately, the almshouse on Chartres Street didn't last long. Mere months after they finished construction, it was occupied and served as the headquarters for the Union Army. In 1865, only three years after it was built, a fire broke out in the Army's makeshift kitchen and the entire building was destroyed.
Undaunted, the city constructed a second residence, also in the Gothic style, for the elderly and indigent Uptown on Daneel Street, using a combination of funds from Touro's bequest and proceeds from a gambling tax initiated by Mayor Joseph Shakespeare. The rambling structure lasted for 30 years and then was demolished around 1937. The lot was subdivided and sold off as the neighborhood became more populated. According to NOLA.com, the iron fence from the second almshouse now surrounds the Orleans Club grounds, a social and cultural club housed in a 1880s Italianette mansion on St. Charles Avenue, which promotes women's interests and "fosters a love for art, music, and literature."
Several years before the Uptown facility was sold and dismantled, the residents had been relocated to the new Touro-Shakespeare Home, occupying over seven acres in Algiers. The three-story, 72,575 square foot building, which then cost $228,000 to construct, offered residential wings large enough to house 175 men and women, separated by a beautiful, non-denominational chapel with a 20-foot domed ceiling, large kitchen, and boiler room. The facility also offered several common indoor areas and also sported well-manicured grounds and an elegant, arcaded, and fountained courtyard. In operation for 72 years, the Touro-Shakespeare Home began life as an almshouse and later morphed into a senior care facility until Hurricane Katrina ravaged the Gulf Coast in 2005.
Though the 120 residents of the Touro-Shakespeare Home were evacuated several days prior to the storm, the building sustained severe damages and has since been vacant, neglected, and vandalized. The Louisiana Landmarks Society placed the Algiers facility on their 2015 "New Orleans Nine," an annual most endangered historic sites watch list, bringing attention to structures and other "distinct features that make our city one of the most unique in the country."
Unlike several abandoned, historic buildings in the city, the future of the Touro-Shakespeare Home is looking bright. In the spring of 2021, the city of New Orleans began accepting bids for the renovation and reuse of the historic site. Earlier this year, HRI Communities, a local firm specializing in urban development and revitalization, secured $6 million in financing from the city and has since partnered with Landis Construction to begin stabilizing the long-neglected structure.
HRI Communities plans to honor the legacy of Touro (and the zone-ordinance restriction) by transforming the property into a modern interpretation of the original almshouse, offering high-quality, affordable housing within an independent living community for seniors. The planned rehabilitation will include an IBHS Fortified roof—designed to strengthen dwellings against severe weather such as high winds, tornadoes, and hurricanes—and resilience-focused construction. All of the planned 52 units will be offered to elderly residents at rents not exceeding 30 percent of their income. The renovations are scheduled to be completed early next year.
"HCI Architecture is excited to be part of the restoration of this wonderful, but severely distressed, historic building," said Roger Freibert, President, HCIA. "It presents a unique and challenging design opportunity to seamlessly integrate best practices for storm resilience, energy efficiency, and modern technology and amenities while restoring the building's historic fabric, ensuring a high quality and sustainable living environment for its new residents."
The Municipal Auditorium
When I moved to New Orleans over 20 years ago with my shih tzu, Pippin, I quickly fell in love with the city's lush green spaces, especially City Park and Audubon Park, with their majestic oaks and abundant wildlife.
Curious about what else to explore, I asked locals about Armstrong Park, only to be met with warnings about danger and crime. These cautions came from long-time residents across the city, reinforcing the park's bad reputation. Sadly, due to post-Katrina neglect and fear-driven stigma, it took me years to discover Armstrong Park's rich offerings, from Congo Square's cultural significance to its spiritual landmarks and the park's vibrant rose garden. It's also when I first saw the sad, post-Katrina tumbledown that was once the impressive 75,000 square-foot New Orleans Municipal Auditorium.
Construction of the Municipal Auditorium was partly spurred by the loss of the French Opera House, which burned down in 1919, combined with the national "City Beautiful" movement. Led by architects and reformers in the 1920s, the urban planning movement sought to strengthen civic pride through the thoughtful design of city parks, public buildings, and grand avenues.
First opened nearly a century ago in the spring of 1930, the New Orleans Municipal Auditorium is a massive, five-story structure designed by local architectural firm Favrot & Livaudais. The stately limestone building was constructed in the Italian Renaissance style with classical arches, geometric details, and a ground-level arcade. Inside the 75,000-square-foot center, visitors and event goers were ensconced in surroundings featuring marble floors with elegant plaster ceilings overhead. The auditorium could house 10,000 seats. In 1931, an additional 35,000 square foot exhibition space was added, making it possible to host conventions, long before the Ernest N. Morial Convention Center was built in 1984.
Considered a state-of-the-art facility, the auditorium was a venue for the arts, from theater and music to elaborate balls—an average of 60 each year—for Carnival royalty including Rex, Comus, Hermes, and Endymion. Errol Laborde, editor-in-chief of New Orleans Magazine and Rex historian, said the first long trains began appearing on Carnival queen's ball gowns in 1930 because the Municipal Auditorium was large enough to accommodate them.
In its 75 years of operation, the auditorium also hosted concert performances from musical legends including New Orleans' own Louis Armstrong, Fats Domino, and Dr. John to Elvis Presley, Ella Fitzgerald, Led Zeppelin, and Lenny Kravitz. The Municipal Auditorium would frequently hold sporting events from basketball and pro wrestling to hockey with a full ice rink, which was, for two years, home to our city's very own team, the New Orleans Brass.
In 1994, the arena was officially renamed the Morris F.X. Jeff Sr. Auditorium in honor of a distinguished civic leader and trailblazer who worked tirelessly to create educational and recreational opportunities for the Black community in New Orleans. Jeff played a crucial role in founding the New Orleans Recreation Department and was instrumental in breaking down the barriers that had previously excluded Black children from participating in programs restricted under Jim Crow laws.
In August of 2005, the levee failures after Hurricane Katrina effectively shuttered the beloved auditorium. The building took on over five feet of water, flooding that destroyed the electrical and mechanical systems situated in the basement, and it's been closed ever since.
Over the past two decades, there's been a lot of talk but not a lot of action regarding the Municipal Auditorium's revival. In 2010, with the city still wading through the aftermath of Katrina, FEMA offered $7 million towards repairs, which at that time were estimated to cost more than $34 million, and the city refused. Four years later, FEMA gave $20 million, which paid to finally pump the basement dry, install generators, and finance some, but not all, much needed asbestos abatement.
Like any derelict building, the grand Municipal Auditorium, with its marble floors and bronze doors, has become a target for squatters and vandalism. Vagrants haunt the building's alcoves seeking shelter for a night. Miscreants climb security fences and pull down boarded-up entrances. They recklessly damage the 95-year-old property, endangering themselves in the process.
In 2021, Mayor LaToya Cantrell proposed a highly controversial project that would use millions in FEMA funds to move City Hall to the Municipal Auditorium. The plan faced significant public outcry as neighborhood activists had plans to turn the structure into a cultural center respecting the location's history and proximity to Congo Square. The protest was successful, culminating into a civic solution giving the Save Our Soul coalition, an organization created to protect Louis Armstrong Park's legacy within New Orleans, a say in the future of the park, which includes the Mahalia Jackson Theater for the Performing Arts and Congo Square.
The city finally announced it was moving forward to redevelop the Municipal Auditorium in December of 2023. Using $38 million in FEMA funds, the project includes mold remediation, replacing the roof, exterior repairs, and removing the old mechanical and electrical equipment from the building. The money will also fund conditioning the long-neglected structure, assessing its current state, identifying deficiencies, and planning repairs and renovations to ensure functionality, all while respecting the auditorium's historical character.
As they so often say, the wheels of government turn slowly, and though no physical construction has yet begun, it seems they're finally moving in the right direction for the future of Morris F.X. Jeff Sr. Auditorium.
Ashton Theater
Over a decade ago, my boyfriend and I dipped our toes into the roiling hot tub that is home ownership. We narrowed our options online and one frenetic Saturday was spent visiting three potential choices. One was a two-bedroom, one-bathroom house in the Hollygrove neighborhood on Apple Street. As we'd only ever visited the Hollygrove Farmers Market, we wanted to get a feel for the neighborhood, so we walked around a little and, after only one block, stumbled upon the Ashton Theater.
Featuring a tall, pink facade with stepped ziggurat motifs typical of the Art Deco style, as well as a bright red and yellow marquee, the small neighborhood theater first opened its doors in 1927. While hundreds of these little theaters opened up across the state, the Ashton was unique in that it was designed by Ferdinand L. Rousseve, Louisiana's first licensed African American architect.
Born in the Seventh Ward to Barthelemy Abel and Valentine R. (Mansion) Rousseve in 1904, Ferdinand's life was one filled with civil, academic, and pedagogic pursuit. Among numerous accomplishments after graduating from the Preparatory Department at Xavier University, Rousseve received a diploma in Mechanical Drawing and Elementary Machine Design from the Coyne Trade and Engineering School in Chicago, won a scholarship to MIT and ended up attaining a BA in Architecture, and was the first person to complete a PhD in only four years at Harvard University.
Although he spent many years teaching, both at Harvard University in Washington, D.C., and as associate professor and head of the Fine Arts Department at Xavier University, he also devoted himself to helping underserved communities through the Urban League of New Orleans and Greater Boston. As a licensed architect in Louisiana and Alabama, Rousseve also designed homes and buildings, many of which were located in New Orleans. Examples of his extant projects include the Central Congregational Church on Bienville Street in the Tremé, the Dr. Joseph Epps' residence on Annette Street in Gentilly, and, of course, the Ashton Theater in Hollygrove.
A little over 5,000 square feet with a balcony, the single-screen cinema was owned and operated by the Fonseca family. The Ashton Theater served the Hollygrove neighborhood for close to 30 years, showing films such as Citizen Kane and The Invisible Boy, until it finally closed in 1958.
No one bit when the building was put on the market, though the contents of the theater—including a Reproduco pipe organ with a roll frame (virtually identical to those used in Coinola coin pianos), which plays a multi-tune music roll—were later sold through an auction. The Ashton sat empty for nearly a decade until the Louisiana Philharmonic Orchestra purchased the old theater to use as its rehearsal hall after their former space, the St. Charles Theater, was demolished.
In 1989, local visual artist and sculptor Lin Emery purchased the Ashton and used the space to construct the massive, kinetic sculptures she was known for. Finding inspiration through nature, Emery created large-scale public artworks activated by water, wind, magnets, and motors. One of her pieces, titled Wave and is a polished aluminum kinetic sculpture poised above a reflective pool, long held a spot in front of the New Orleans Museum of Art. It now resides in the Sydney and Walda Besthoff Sculpture Garden in New Orleans City Park.
When Emery passed away in 2021, her son Brooks Braselman, who took over ownership of the Ashton, put the officially designated historical landmark (New Orleans Historic District Landmarks Commission) up for sale with hopes that its new owner would keep the building's legacy going and use the space for creative endeavors.
In the summer of 2023, local entrepreneur Janice Meredith purchased the nearly century-old theater, which she distinctly remembered from her childhood as she grew up near the Hollygrove neighborhood. Her intention was to use the Ashton in part as a manufacturing and retail space for her business selling patches and embroidered clothing, while also leaving the rest to serve as a co-working/retail space for other creative entrepreneurs.
In a NOLA.com article, Meredith said other artists would be able to book the extra space through an app called EntrepreNOLA, turning it into a "true community asset for residents in the neighborhood." She also had planned to invest $400,000 to update the HVAC system and make the structure ADA compliant. As far as can be gleaned, none of her plans for a co-working space have yet come to fruition, but, as is often said, good things come to those who wait.
As mentioned earlier in this piece, my boyfriend and I were originally looking at a house in that Hollygrove neighborhood. At that time, the Louisiana Housing Commission was offering a Soft Second program, a home-buying assistance loan that would pay up to $85,000 then. After 10 years of residency, the loan would be forgiven. A first-time home buying class and mountains of paperwork later, we suddenly found ourselves in a rush to choose a house before the program ended.
The house we looked at, originally a 500 square foot shotgun, had an addition built out front, a long living room/dining room that stepped up to a modern kitchen with dark hardwood floors throughout. The house also had a big backyard with two mature oaks and a stone brick patio.
It's funny—the house we never ended up buying on Apple Street is not often thought about anymore. More often, my mind wanders back to the daringly-Deco Ashton Theater, pondering its potential role in Hollygrove's future.
The Plaza Tower
For preservationists seeing
neglected properties around New Orleans, their inclination almost always leans
heavily toward restoration or adaptive reuse. In most cases, abandoned
structures have the potential to thrive again, breathing new life into the community.
Sometimes, a building outlives its usefulness. Maybe it's a blight, a canker on
the face of the neighborhood, and a threat to the people who live, work, and
visit our city. One such building is Plaza Tower.
Construction of the Plaza Tower began in 1964
and was completed in 1969. It was designed by Leonard R. Spangenberg Jr., a
local architect who apprenticed under Frank Lloyd Wright. Though every project
faces complications, the fate of the tower seemed doomed from the beginning.
Sam Recile, the original real estate developer who wanted to build the tower,
ran into financial difficulties and was sued by the architectural firm Leonard
R. Spangenberg Jr. & Associates for over half a million dollars in unpaid
fees. Additionally, many criticized its construction, deeming the design an
"eyesore" that detracted from the surrounding historical architecture.
In its design, Spangenberg intended to blend
modernism, expressionism, futurism, and constructivism—a failed attempt,
according to critics. In an essay published by the Society of Architectural
Historians, authors Karen Kingsley and Lake Douglas describe the Plaza Tower as
"a jumble rather than a distillation" of the modern disciplines. Since the
Plaza was built, many residents disdainfully referred to it as the "air traffic
control tower" due to its austere, function-forward design and top-heavy hat,
which was originally intended to feature a helipad.
Vocal opponents and a mid-build lawsuit
resulting in a change of ownership weren't the Plaza Tower's only hurdles. In
1965, Hurricane Betsy struck while the tower was still under construction, and
the sustained winds of over 110 mph reputedly twisted the elevator shaft, an
issue that plagued the building's elevator operations throughout its existence.
On the bright side, when construction was completed, the 45-story, 531-foot
Plaza Tower was the tallest skyscraper in the New Orleans skyline, until the
Hancock Whitney Center (formerly One Shell Square) was completed three years
later in 1972.
After the Plaza Tower was completed in 1969,
it was intended primarily as office space with some residential units near the
top. Oddly enough, very little residential space was made available. As a
result, the remaining living areas were made into offices in the mid '80s.
The multi-million dollar tower's vitality was
short-lived, serving mainly as offices for state and city employees in its
final years. In 2001, several class action lawsuits were filed against the
building's owners and managers due to a lack of maintenance, exposing tenants
to asbestos and toxic mold. Only a year later, the building was vacated en
masse and has sat empty ever since, even though the structure underwent
environmental remediation from 2008 to 2010 under the ownership of Plainfield
Asset Management.
The owners of the Plaza Tower have been many
and varied, from Giannasca Development Group and Bahar Development of Ohio (who
were temporarily successful in their $6.5 million renovation) to Plainfield
Asset Management, a now-defunct hedge fund. Bryan Burns, a partner with JSW
Plaza Tower, purchased the building in 2011 for $650,000 and had grand plans to
develop it into a mixed use space with high end apartments and commercial
space, a move that would happen in conjunction with the blossoming South Market
District on Loyola Avenue. Unfortunately, those lofty plans never came to
fruition.
In 2014, the tower was purchased by Joe
Jaeger, a local real estate developer known for buying up neglected properties
for renovation or letting them sit and deteriorate before selling them to
another interested buyer. Since Jager purchased it in 2014, the Plaza Tower has
sat untouched for over a decade.
Over the years of neglect, the
tower fell further into disrepair, and, no matter how many barriers were
erected, it became a haven for danger-seekers, graffiti artists, and squatters.
It was only a matter of time before the crumbling structure became a danger. It
began in early summer 2021 when high winds dislodged a large piece of paneling,
which fell and injured a passing bicyclist. Several months later in January of
2022, a fire broke out after witnesses reported seeing smoke coming from the
tower. Then in April of 2023, a two-alarm "trash fire" broke out on the second
floor and, only hours after the fire, police discovered a homeless man who fell
from the tower and died.
Though netting was installed
around the Plaza's crown to catch falling debris, the move was only a temporary
stopgap. In 2023, Mayor LaToya Cantrell took aim at the city's blighted
properties, levying fines against the owners and threatening demolition. Plaza
Tower definitely topped her "dirty dozen" list, along with other neglected
buildings such as the Lindy Boggs Hospital on Norman C. Francis Parkway and
State Palace Theater on Canal Street.
In 2024, the Governmental
Affairs Committee of the New Orleans City Council approved $2.7 million in
funding toward stabilization, securing the building against future accidents.
More inspiring, just this past January, a judge ruled the city can go forward
with plans to eventually demolish the ill-fated tower, a move that came after
more legal tug of war between Jaeger and the city of New Orleans.
In anticipation of Super Bowl
LIX, the city invested in beautification projects, from costly, color-changing
LED lights on the Crescent City Connection and Disney-like projections on the
St. Louis Cathedral to expansive murals on the Entergy substation and Girod
Street overpass. As demolition of the Plaza Tower obviously couldn't happen
before the football festivities, the Super Bowl Host Committee wrapped the
first 10 floors with artwork. But an artistic band-aid won't long hide the
decay that has plagued the city's skyline for decades.
State Palace Theater
Distracted by opulent Garden District mansions and dressed fried shrimp po-boys, it was a few months before I realized New Orleans is a neglected city. When journeyed beyond self-delineated safety zones, I became spellbound by the crumbling buildings, graffiti tags, and trailing vines competing to conceal grand facades and curtain broken windows.
Born and raised in the San Francisco Bay Area, a metropolis with virtually no space left unsung, I found the abandoned structures in New Orleans both gloomy and alluring. Who built them? Why have they been forsaken? Will they ever be revived? This is a personal exploration of the abandoned and neglected public structures in New Orleans. This is Tumbledown NOLA.
Casey and Brandon were the first people I met when I moved here over 20 years ago. Being a decade older didn't stop the young couple from welcoming me into their city. With their guidance, I sucked and pinched my way through my first crawfish boil, spent late nights couch-bound, burning endless blunts in the Hi-Ho's backroom and early mornings gulping greasy spoon breakfasts at the Trolley Stop Cafe.
While never brave enough to accompany them, Casey and Brandon regaled me with stories of the raves they attended at State Palace, a crumbling theater on Canal Street. Though I'd enjoyed numerous beach raves in the Bay Area, I was more than a little afraid in what was still, to me, an unknown city. But their stories, and the building itself, fascinated me.
Opened nearly a century ago in 1926 with its distinctive Spanish Colonial Revival-inspired façade, The Palace was one of many Loew's Theaters popping up across the country. The Devil's Circus, starring Norma Shearer, was the first film listed on the marquee on opening night, and Marcus Loew himself appeared on stage with silent film stars Buster Keaton and Lew Cody, among others, heralding the Canal Street venue.
The Palace was designed by prominent, Scottish-born architect Thomas W. Lamb, known for the plush "movie palaces" he created for Fox, Keith Albee (RKO), and the Loews theater chains. The cinema he designed for the corner of Canal and Basin streets boasted a seating capacity for 3,335 people and a 3/13 Robert Morton pipe organ. Unfortunately, the organ fell into disuse after the early '30s with the advent of "talkies" and was later destroyed in a flood.
In the mid-70s, the theater was expanded to become a triplex, partitioned to feature two screens on the main floor while the balcony offered the third. Less than a decade later, the theater was sold to Wilson P. Abraham, a developer who planned to raze The Palace and build condominiums in its place—a plan that never came to fruition.
Rene Brunet Jr., beloved local owner of the Prytania Theater (among others) with the cinema in his blood, leased The Palace from Abraham in the late 1980s. In an attempt to bring the cinema back to its former glory, Brunet removed the partitions and opened up the balcony, uncovered the marble walls in the lobby, returned the single large screen to the main floor, and renamed the building the State Palace Theater. Along with showing classic films and television shows, the space became a live music venue, featuring performances by A-listers such as Stone Temple Pilots, Phish, and Green Day.
In the mid-90s (arguably the building's most fascinating era), the State Palace became the premier venue for raves, gaining national notoriety for its epic, wildly-themed EDM concerts featuring DJs from across the country. The late night performances were organized by local event producer James D. Estopinal Jr., aka Disco Donnie, star of the 2004 documentary film Rise: The Story of Rave Outlaw Disco Donnie. State Palace raves in their heyday included performances by drum and bass phenom Danny the Wildchild, hip hop DJ Q-Bert, Baltimore-based Charles Feelgood, and California's Bassbin Twins.
My friend Casey Sander, an avid fan of electronica and the local rave scene, recalled a State Palace concert featuring Rabbit in the Moon, a group whose style drew from house, trance, and breakbeat, and who were one of the first to mix theatrical stage performances into their acts. "I remember [State Palace] would get so packed that the walls would sweat. We wore those big-ass JNCO pants, and they would have six inches of nasty raver funk on the bottom." She also emphasized a sense of inclusivity. "No one cared at all about sexual orientation or race. Everyone was there participating together."
During the late-night raves, State Palace was split into three separate "rooms of sound." The main floor housed featured acts, the upstairs "jungle room" (an EDM genre dubbed jungle bass), and a side space they called the "chill room."
"Sometimes you could go out on the roof," recalled Sander. "I watched the sun rise from that roof multiple times." She also recalled the artistic event posters—collectible prints similar to the psychedelic, '60s era flyers for shows at the Fillmore in San Francisco.
In 1998, a 17-year-old girl attending a State Palace rave suffered convulsions from drug complications, went into a coma, and died. Estopinal and State Palace Theater became part of a nationwide federal investigation into raves and the drug culture that surrounded them. Undercover agents were sold ecstasy and LSD by attendees during several performances, but when they raided the theater, there was no evidence of drugs, just cases of water bottles, pacifiers, and glowsticks.
After Hurricane Katrina, the State Palace's basement flooded, leading to its closure. It briefly reopened in 2006, hosting its final "Zoolu" event the day before Mardi Gras, before shutting down permanently in 2008 due to fire code violations. Efforts to revive the theater began in 2014 when developer Gregor Fox purchased it, envisioning a restoration akin to successes at the nearby Saenger and Joy theaters. However, the estimated $50 million renovation price tag proved insurmountable and conflicting visions among investors stalled progress.
Fox sold the property to LC Hospitality Group, which planned to transform it into a hotel with ground-floor retail space. However, external setbacks like the Hard Rock Hotel collapse in 2019, rising interest rates, and COVID-19 delays halted these ambitions. Key proposals were also denied by the city's Historic District Landmarks Commission, further complicating the project.
As of July 2023, the State Palace is back on the market for $7.2 million. Whether this historic landmark will find new life remains uncertain. All we can do is wait and see.
