GUTHEIMthe GREAT

To look east across the Potomac River from Mount Vernon is to be

indebted to Frederick Gutheim for what one sees: a vista of largely unspoiled landscape that appears almost precisely as it did inGeorge Washington's day. What one does not see, however, isequally important: No tract housing, no high rises, none of theindustrial clutter that despoils many other historic viewscapes.

Like the view from Mount Vernon, Gutheim's career as historian and planner is significant for what one does not see. Some people savebuildings, some people save neighborhoods, and some people—likeGutheim—generate the intangible ideas that mold the tangible landcapes inwhich we live. Known to friends and colleagues as "Fritz," Gutheim is a soft-spoken, serious man who, as a preservation activist, has often played a behind-the-scenes role.

It was during the early fifties, when the Maryland side of the Potomac wasbeing threatened with development, that Gutheim and his longtime friend, management consultant Robert Ware Straus, were discussing possible ways to preserve and protect the view from Mount Vernon. As Straus describes it, Gutheimquickly conceived a solution: Create a new type of national park—partiallygovernment-owned, partially controlled by the new concept of scenic easements—and establish an agricultural historical museum, something thenunheard of. But with Straus as the driving force, Gutheim's idea eventuallybore fruit as Piscataway Park, the Accokeek Foundation, and its offspring, theNational Colonial Farm—successful ventures that preserve the scenic landscape and demonstrate its historic use. Says Straus, "Every major new federalpark since that time has been based on the same concepts."

The Mount Vernon example is but one of many that portray Gutheim as aman with a vision—more precisely, as a man with a great many visions thathave prompted efforts ranging from the award-winning preservation programfor the rural landscape in Maryland to the foundation of the National HistoricPreservation Act of 1966 (Gutheim was a veritable font of ideas when heserved as a member ofthe President's Task Force on Natural Beauty in 1964) tothe successful redevelopment of Washington, D.C.'s (continued on page 72)

Photograph By Ron Co lb ro th

1 Frederick Gutheim hasinspired the preservationmovement for more thansixty years, serving as thecatalyst for multifacetedprojects ranging from

Maryland Js preservationprogram for the

rural landscape tothe redevelopmentof Washington's

Pennsylvania Avenue.By JANE C. LOEFFLER

T

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(continued from page 36) main street,Pennsylvania Avenue. Indeed, Gutheimattended the initial meeting onPennsylvania Avenue with Secretary ofLabor Arthur Goldberg, AssistantSecretary of Labor Daniel PatrickMoynihan, and architect Paul Thiry. "Itwas an extraordinary meeting—inspiring," Thiry recalls. "It gave me admiration for Goldberg's concern but principally for how Fritz, in his quiet way,steered the meeting into [the creation of]the Advisory Council on PennsylvaniaAvenue." Gutheim and Moynihan wrotethe council's final report and presented itto President Lyndon Johnson in 1964.(Moynihan, who led Congressionalefforts to implement the plan, now keepsa copy of Worthy of the Nation,Gutheim's acclaimed history ofWashington, D.C, planning, beside hisSenate desk.)

As part of that planning effort,Gutheim outlined the PennsylvaniaAvenue Historic District and, later, ascoauthor of the master plan for theUnited States Capitol, prepared theboundaries of the Capitol Hill HistoricDistrict, a project that won him honorsfrom the American Institute ofArchitects—all endeavors, fruitions ofGutheim's broadcast ideas.

In March 1988, colleagues, formerstudents, and admirers gathered at TheGeorge Washington University inWashington, D.C, to honor Gutheim'seightieth birthday and to celebrate hisremarkable career of nearly sixty years.From their combined tributes emergesthe portrait of a multifaceted man whoseprofessional life has been distinguishedby a wide range of accomplishments.Some had learned of Gutheim's ideasthrough his best-known book, ThePotomac, now considered a classic inregional environmental history. Others,through his pioneering planning workfor the Tennessee Valley Authority andthe United States Housing Authority.Still others had first come into contactwith the Gutheim influence during hispublic relations campaign for Reston,Virginia, while an entire cadre of professional preservationists regard him as thecatalyst who made their careers bothpossible and purposeful. Robert Kapsch,for example, now chief of the HistoricAmerican Buildings Survey (HABS)and the Historic American EngineeringRecord (HAER), met Gutheim as agraduate student in the historic preserva-

n

tion program at The George WashingtonUniversity, a program established thereby Gutheim in 1976 with support fromthe National Trust and the NationalEndowment for the Arts. Kapsch's studies with Gutheim led him to realize thatlittle valuable data existed on thenation's structures. "What began moreor less as a recreational degree leddirectly to my career in historic preservation," says Kapsch.

Joseph Getly, executive director of theHistoric Society of Carroll County,Maryland, also studied under Gutheimand credits him with instilling in his students "the what, why, how, and who ofpreservation." Through Gutheim's lectures, Getty learned to understand thesignificance of vernacular architecture—of such buildings as farmhouses, firestations, and rural railroad depots—andto determine for these structures the bestanswer to the crucial question: "What

"Beyond a strictlyarchitectural approach, Ilooked at the lamer goals

of a more attractivepublic environment."

should be preserved?" It is Gutheim'spreservation philosophy, one based on aneed for thoughtful planning and a thorough knowledge of planning tools, thatguides Getty and numerous other formerstudents as they wrestle with the day-today decisions of preservation work.

Gutheim's involvement in preservation began following his graduationfrom Wisconsin's Experimental Collegewhere he encountered two men whoshaped his professional path: thearchitect Frank Lloyd Wright and theurban historian Lewis Mumford.Gutheim worked with Wright at hisfamous Wisconsin studio, Taliesin, andgained an appreciation of architecturalpractice there. Mumford, then a youngprofessor, encouraged Gutheim's interest in urban planning. In 1931, Gutheimbegan writing on architecture, planning,and landscape in the Magazine of Art. "Iwrote about the historical aspects ofplanning, about medieval and renaissance towns, and about historic preservation in places like Charleston andAnnapolis," he recalls. "1 followed whatwas going on in Alexandria, Savannah,

Georgetown, New Orleans, and onBeacon Hill. In those days, preservationwas an extremely local concern. Whatinterested me, of course, with my political orientation, was the use of zoningpowers and other legal devices to preserve not just individual buildings, butthe whole range of values inherent in oldtowns, whole districts like GreenwichVillage, and landscape features likeCentral Park or the Bronx RiverParkway."

Gutheim's love for the landscape andhis appreciation of its historic and cultural values come as no surprise to thosewho have visited his home, MountEphraim, a six-acre farm locatedapproximately thirty-five miles outsideof Washington, D.C, where he and hiswife, Polly, have lived since 1941.Seated in his living room, a pleasant airyroom with a view of the distinctivenotched profile of Sugarloaf Mountainin the distance, Gutheim indeed seemsthe farmer or rural gentleman—whichhe is. He takes pride in his small flock ofsheep and in his hens that lay the onlybrown eggs in the neighborhood. Thisaspect of Gutheim's life presents quite acontrast to his identity as an urban planner, an expert on cities. And yet preservation issues cross all boundaries, and itis planning, Gutheim says, that providesthe underpinning for sensitive and sensible preservation policy in country andcity alike.

"I should say that I was early into thepreservation game, but from the start Iwas interested in the context of buildings," says Gutheim. "Beyond a strictlyarchitectural approach, I looked at thelarger goals of a more attractive,improved public environment. Thisapproach has taken longer to arrive inthe preservation movement than Ithought it would," he notes, "but it isindeed arriving."

For early evidence of his preservationphilosophy, Gutheim removes from hislibrary bookcase enormous bound volumes of newspapers that include his articles. He began writing for the New YorkHerald Tribune in 1947 and was the firstto write a regular column of architectural criticism for a major Americandaily newspaper. "Ada Louise Huxtablesays that I invented her, which is verykind of her," he says with a smile.

In daily columns and in editorialsGutheim condemned efforts to rob NewYork of its "fast-vanishing past" andcalled for legal protection for buildingsof exceptional historical or architectural

H I S T O R I C P R E S E R VAT I O N

value. He battled New York Universityover the destruction of Greek Revivalhouses threatened by what he called theuniversity's "piecemeal and opportunistic creeping around WashingtonSquare" and called repeatedly for comprehensive city planning. He decried the"dangerous measure of discretionarypower" concentrated in the hands of hisfrequent foe, New York's parks czarRobert Moses.

Reflecting on those days, Gutheim ispleased by what he accomplished. "Justthe idea that Washington Square was animportant historic site was novel at thattime," he points out.

Throughout a career combining consulting, teaching, writing, and public service, Gutheim has demonstrated a flairfor bringing together new constituencies.For example, the Frederick Law OlmstedSesquicentennial, which he orchestratedin 1972, fostered the development ofvocal new supporters for the idea ofurban parks, and two groups that hefounded in the sixties have had lastinginfluence in the capital city: theWashington Center for MetropolitanStudies and Washington's PreservationRoundtable. The Washington Center forMetropolitan Studies was one of the firsturban think tanks to address the criticalissues confronting the rapidly growingmetropolitan area and its deterioratingcore. Through that project he came toknow Robert E. Simon, Jr., the man whodeveloped the planned community ofReston, Virginia. Simon describesGutheim's knowledge of planning as"encyclopedic." "Fritz became a sort ofguru to all of us," Simon recalls, relatinghow Gutheim masterminded the strategyfor convincing a reluctant Fairfax Countyto build Reston as a planned "new town"as opposed to just another sprawlingsubdivision.

The Preservation Roundtable met forthe first time in 1968 when Gutheim andseveral friends gathered to discuss thelandmark status that some historic districts had achieved. Twenty years later, itremains a monthly forum for those mostclosely allied with all aspects of preservation policy. Although mostRoundtable members are local, theirinfluence is felt throughout the UnitedStates because so many of them areassociated with federal programs andprivate groups headquartered inWashington.

In 1974 Gutheim, a longtime leader ofthe Sugarloaf Citizens Association,established Sugarloaf Regional Trails

(SRT), a nonprofit center dedicated tothe preservation of the cultural andscenic landscape of an area boastingmore than 1,000 historic buildings,farms, and districts.

SRT prepared valuable studies detailing ways to preserve scenic roads andprotect farmland threatened by subdivisions that reach out from Washington inever-widening arcs. Additionally, SRTproduced three television films anddeveloped a system of trails that wereaimed at broadening the educational andrecreational value of the region andthereby expanding public support for itspreservation.

Reflecting on his local activityGutheim says, "We've managed to hookthe area into the C&O Canal NationalHistoric Park, which runs along thePotomac just west of us, and managed toget the State of Maryland to create atwo-thousand-acre, multiple-use resource area nearby around the lowerpart of the Monocacy River. And, ofcourse, we've created tax incentives andprompted large landowners to donateconservation easements."

Under Gutheim's leadership, SRTreceived an Honor Award from theNational Trust for Historic Preservationin 1984. In 1974 Maryland awardedGutheim the Calvert Prize, the state'shonor for preservation, and just lastyear, the Montgomery County HistoricPreservation Commission awarded himthe Montgomery Prize for his role inestablishing the county historic preservation plan, which has since served as amodel for numerous others nationwide.

"Frederick Gutheim," says HABSchief Kapsch, "never envisioned theacademy as something apart from thelarger society." Kapsch cites Gutheim'sadvice to his students: Don't simply joinhistoric preservation organizations,assume leadership positions in them;don't just study society, change it for thebetter.

In projects worldwide, and in his ownbackyard as well, that is exactly whatGutheim has been doing—and doingwell. No wonder so many colleagueshold him in awe. Despite the twinklingof lights in the distance at night, he isable to say with satisfaction, "Fromwhere I live, I can't see anything thatwasn't there forty years ago." To thosewho treasure the past, that's quite ana c c o m p l i s h m e n t . T

Jane C. Loeffler is a city planner andwriter living in Washington, D.C.

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