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FEATURED
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OCTOBER
2002
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ALTERNATIVE USE AS A PRESERVATION STRATEGY THE EASTERN STATE PENITENTIARY CASE STUDY
Samuel Y. Harris
First
published in “Historic Preservation Forum” The Journal of the National Trust
for Historic Preservation, September/October 1993, Volume 7 Number 5.
Alternate use had been and
remains a popular strategy of building preservation. In many cases the question is not whether or not to invoke
alternate use but how soon and which use. At
Eastern State Penitentiary in Philadelphia this has certainly been the case for
the past several years. In a study
performed while I was with Kieran, Timberlake & Harris, however, not only
did the issue of alternate use for Eastern State come under question, but the
validity of alternate use as a strategy as well.
In addition to Eastern State
there are currently several historically significant properties in Philadelphia
that are at risk because of advanced deterioration, collapse, or demolition.
Strickland’s Naval Home was purchased from the city some years ago and
lies dormant and decaying. The
preservation community remains alarmed that the developer has not appeared to
move to save the property. The
Fairmount Water Works, which was stabilized at the cost of several millions of
dollars, remains essentially empty and unused.
The Victory Building is under threat of demolition.
At the same time there are
proponents of alternate use who point to the Bourse Building as an example of a
successful project. Others applaud
the historic tax credit projects of the eighties as significant successes.
The study of Eastern State
brought many of these properties and their respective problems into a common
perspective. It not only made some
sense of the threatened properties but questioned the efficacy of the successes.
ALTERNATE USE AS AN OBJECTIVE
While Eastern State
Penitentiary was the specific object of the study, some general observations
regarding alternative use as a preservation strategy have emerged that are
relevant not only to the penitentiary but to preservation projects generally.
While advocates of Eastern State recognize the fact that alternate use
may require some compromise of fabric and program, the question for the study
was how much of a compromise will be required to achieve the primary objectives.
The preservation objectives of
Eastern State represent the consensus of a workshop conducted in October of 1989
in conjunction with the 44th National Preservation Conference held in
Philadelphia and are as follow: (1) preserve and conserve as much of the fabric
of Eastern State Penitentiary as possible and (2) interpret Eastern State
Penitentiary as a penitentiary for the indefinite future.
Our study determined that the
establishment of the objectives was the single most influential variable in the
development of alternate-use scenarios. In
the case of Eastern State the objectives were stated and specific; however, in
the case of many historic properties the objectives are assumed or implicit.
Of all the factors effecting
the conclusions of this study the establishment of the initial goals are of
overriding importance. The general
conclusion of this study is that alternative use is a less effective strategy in
achieving the goals set for Eastern State Penitentiary than investing the money
required for conversion in an interest-bearing account.
This conclusion is not a condemnation of alternative use as an aspect of
preservation theory or as an implementation strategy per se.
Other goals, however, will result in different conclusions.
If the goals were to retain fifty percent of the fabric or half of the
cell blocks for interpretation, the conclusions and recommendations would be
different. Although the conclusions of the study were less optimistic than
desired, the single most effective adjustment of parameters to achieve a
desirable outcome is the reestablishment of the goals.
The general experience of
alternate use as a strategy for historic preservation and the previous specific
proposals for Eastern State Penitentiary are of mixed success.
Most advocates of preservation recognize the compromises inherent in
alternate use, namely reduction of fabric, reduced control, reduced access, and
reduction of interpretive quality. Because
the preservation community often does not have the resources to independently
determine the outcome of each and every historic property, a compromise is made
between alternate use and apparent demolition or ruination.
Resorting to commercial development as a method of alternate use is not,
generally, the first choice but the result of real or perceived necessity.
REAL ESTATE VERSUS PRESERVATION
The broadest objective of
preservation is retention of fabric. Typically, the first choice for that
property is one that treats the building more as an artifact than as real
estate. If the original fabric is
not preservable, then we proceed to restore the fabric and so forth in the order
prescribed by the Secretary of the Interior’s Guidelines.
We are also well aware that even displaying the building as an object,
much less installing an alternative use, generates conflicts between
authenticity and code conformance.
The building in question may be
an eighteenth-century single-family residence. To convert that property to a historic-house museum may
entail conforming to the code requirements for group assembly.
The occupancy of an otherwise modest house, therefore, could be
determined to be 100 or more people, but there is no fire-suppression equipment,
second means of egress, or 100-pound-per-square-foot live-load capacity.
Such a situation is exacerbated
if an owner is also required to amortize the capital improvements and compete in
a market based on rents. As
exemplified by many historic tax credits in the early 1980s, the conflicts may
not even be apparent for five or more years.
The objectives of preservation emphasize authenticity and durability
whereas the rental market emphasizes amenity, image, and expediency.
The tax-act projects subscribed
to the Secretary’s Guidelines to the extent required; however, the
quality of the improvements were driven far more by the ability of the unit to
fetch a rent than to endure over time. Many of those projects were physically altered in ways that
will prevent them from being reinterpreted in the future.
When Eastern State was
presented to the commercial-development community, the proposals were perceived
as less desirable than abandonment. Among
the development proposals for Eastern State the least destructive proposed that
more than half the site be demolished. Another developer proposed demolishing as much as ninety
percent of the fabric. One proposal
required direct public subsidization of such a magnitude that exceeds the
current costs of conversion to a museum. All
the proposals were presented, at least in part, as a means of preservation.
For Eastern State the motives
and requirements of conventional commercial developments of conventional
commercial development were not realizable given the gross-to-net square-footage
ratio. For every rentable square
foot of Eastern State a developer has to renovate 1.6 gross square feet.
In the end the project would compete with equally desirable renovations
in which the competing developer had to renovate only 1.1 square feet, which is
typical of commercial renovations. The
extreme inefficiency of the complex made development feasible only by destroying
so much of the fabric that the preservation community balked.
The history begs speculation as to the fate of Eastern State had it been
eighty-five percent efficient instead of the sixty percent that it is.
As a consequence of the
inefficient nature of Eastern State, it is inherently difficult to develop
economically. Generally, structures
can be redeveloped economically when net-to-gross ratios approach ninety percent
or the building can be altered in order to achieve such efficiency.
The consequences of such alterations may, and often do, result in major
reconfiguration of interior volumes. Depending
on the original objectives, this may be unacceptable.
THE REAL ESTATE MARKET
As preservationists we often
look at an abandoned building in a state of impending demolition or collapse and
conclude that we can save the building if we can find an appropriate use.
The premise is that if we persevere and are clever, we will find a
perfect use that will save the building and serve the occupant.
A general theory of rent,
however, suggests that by the time the building has reached the point of
demolition or abandonment, the market has effectively conducted just such a
search. An abandoned building is
the real estate market’s way of telling us that it has tried to find a fit at
virtually any and all rents and failed to come up with even a $1-per-square-foot
option. There are many buildings
that pass through the market and into abandonment every day, but only a few of
them are objects of preservation concern. The
real estate rules are the same for all property, historic or not.
When we adopt such a building and begin the search for the saving
alternative use, we are ignoring the original message: The market does not
currently value this property.
The operative term in the
former paragraph is “the market.” A
market is an open exchange among buyers and sellers in which both parties are
acting out of perceived self-interest and with equal bargaining positions.
This definition paraphrases Paul Samuelson’s classic text on economics,
and little has occurred to change the definition.
The definition is relevant in
that it points out that markets are made up of individuals, not machines or
computers, and that collective judgment is a major factor in interpreting market
behavior. Another important point
is that a market will change based on perception.
Having a better mousetrap is of little value unless the buyer perceives
the value of the improvement. The
relevance to historic properties is that while we perceive value of historicity,
the market will respond and buy based on the sum of individual buyers’
perceptions of value. The market
will bid down rent, which is a measure of value such that at any given time a
property is returning its highest and best rent for its condition, type, and
location. If a property can through
reinvestment return a higher rent, then development will occur with or without
the intercession of the preservation community.
The factors effecting either the currently realizable rent or the
prospect of reinvestment include the building type and its condition, but far
more important is its location, efficiency, zoning, and scale.
In other words, much of the value of a given property is dependent on
factors that are unrelated to the architectural style or historic value of the
building.
As preservationists we tend to
view the life cycle of a building in quite physical terms related to condition
and maintenance. The market views
the building in terms more of utility and function. While we view alternative use as a special condition of
preservation planning, the real estate market continually evaluates each and
every property in the inventory for alternative-use potential on a revolving
basis.
An exception to this occurs
when an owner perceives the value of the property to lie in its appreciation
rather than its rent. In
Philadelphia such a situation may currently exist with respect to the Victory
Building and the Naval Home. Both properties are privately held, both are vacant
and abandoned, and both are deteriorating to the point of condemnation.
The respective dollar values of the sites may be increasing simply as
time goes by. In other works, the
sites are a form of land bank. Their
respective values may not be appreciably different whether they are rented or
vacant. By waiting and doing
nothing the properties may be condemned and demolished; but because the
investment value in the properties is in appreciation to begin with demolition
may actually enhance the value.
In an effort to tilt the market
toward preservation, we have used incentives to reduce the risk of development
and encourage certified rehabilitation. The historic tax credit is such a device.
In the early 1980s a developer could receive as much as a
twenty-five-percent tax credit for investing in and developing historic
buildings or buildings contributing to a historic district.
The response of the development
sector was slow at first, but caught on rapidly and produced a flood of tax-act
development projects. The standards
were tightened each year as the reviewers became more suspicious of
developers’ motives and tactics but the genie was out of the bottle.
Among the early compromises
with the developers were that seventy-five percent of the exterior wall needed
to be preserved and that the interiors of the buildings were not as significant
as the exteriors. In mildly
hyperbolic terms the message was that the developer could do virtually anything
on the interior as long as most (seventy-five percent) of the façade survived.
In the case of Old City, a
district in Philadelphia, a typical consequence of these policies was that an
open loft building that was occupied at a rent of $2 per square foot was bought
and renovated in the name of preservation.
Such projects resulted in virtual destruction of the interior fabric.
The provision for saving seventy-five percent of the exterior wall was
intended to allow developers to replace significantly deteriorated portions of
the wall. The application of this provision authorized developers to
demolish as much as twenty-five percent of the exterior wall whether it was
deteriorated or not in order to provide courts and light wells.
Rents increased to $10 per square foot, but with the tax credit the
effective rent was close to $12 per square foot per year.
In other words, a provision
designed to salvage threatened buildings stimulated the taking of functioning
buildings in the name of preservation. This
occurred even though the buildings were doing precisely what they were designed
to do as loft buildings, albeit at $2 per square foot.
The loft buildings were modified in such ways that the interiors were
destroyed and the perimeters altered in ways that their original uses can never
be reinstalled, regardless of what the market may do in fifteen or twenty years.
These same properties were
subsequently up for resale; the original investors had collected their tax
credits and wanted to move to other investment opportunities.
From the mid-1980s to the mid-1990s, however, the market for property in
Old City had declined to $8 or $9 per square foot.
Before the development community could stop the process so many units
were in the pipeline that Old City was glutted with one-and two-bedroom
apartments. The projects were going
bankrupt one by one.
The phenomenon of Old City is a
contrived market founded upon a form of subsidization. When
the subsidies expired the market started sending rents in Old City back where
they were before intervention. In
twenty years, barring any movement in the basic demand for space in Old City,
the properties will decline to meet the market.
The point is that the under
occupancy or lack of occupancy of a property at a given time is not so much a
consequence of potential renters overlooking a jewel as much as the bidding
process at work. When we meddle
with the mechanism we have not to date been able to predict the long-term
ramifications. If we resort to
incentives, we can almost surely expect to have to sustain those incentives
indefinitely. If we compromise the
fabric we may very well restrict future development potential resulting in
pre-mature demolition.
The fundamental problem of
subsidization or other form of market manipulation is that the moneys are
applied indirectly to the objective with the consequence that the outcomes are
not necessarily reliable of desirable. The
use of tax credits to achieve preservation first and foremost enriches the
developer, which will encourage the developer, which will encourage the
developer to preserve the building. It follows that the incentive evaporates with the termination
of the subsidy, which in the case of historic tax credits is no more than five
years.
Regardless of the form or
mechanism, incentives and subsidies are disbursements generally from public
funds that are designed to provide value to the public.
In the case of a typical historic tax-credit development in Old City, the
amount of the tax credit was $1 million. If
we had awarded a $1-million grant to the original owner of the same loft
building, would we or the building be any worse off today.
The temptation to intervene in
the market on behalf of our sacred cow is almost irresistible, if not for
preservation then for some other motive. On
March 19 of this year The Philadelphia Inquirer reported a proposal by
Myles Tannenbaum, “a Wharton lecturer and longtime principal in commercial
real estate ventures,” to deal with the soft Class B real estate Market.
The plan is to establish a publicly funded authority that will purchase
and demolish buildings with low occupancies.
By reducing supply, rents will rise and enhance the surviving properties
while the owners of the demolished properties are reimbursed for their
“losses.”
Tannenbaum and developers not
unlike him are the same partners in alternative use whom we are relying on for
the sensitive and enlightened preservation of our buildings.
THE ALTERNATIVE USE FORMULA
The basic formula for real
estate development is quite simple: Will the property return more money than it
costs to develop? The methods for
predicting the outcome of a given venture are far from certain.
The consequences of being right or lucky may result in substantial
profits and such ventures certainly derive considerable publicity; however, many
do not realize profits and some are outright financial disasters.
A major factor in assessing a development project is the analysis and
management of the risks. A typical
objective of the development of a property is to double the equity investment
upon resale, although the reality of investment is that very few projects double
their equity investment. The
negative picture is assumed to be that the investor loses the original
investment. In fact, a project that
goes sour can be much worse than that.
The worst-case scenario for a
project is that halfway through construction the contractor goes bankrupt,
leaving the developer with a huge debt, no building, breached rental agreements,
and a panicked lender. The losses
can easily exceed the value of the investment. For all of these reasons – combined with Samuelson’s
first law of perceived self-interest – developers not only approach a project
to turn a profit but to turn the maximum profit possible on a given property.
We now have a situation in which a property has the potential to derive
increased rent through reinvestment. If
the building is currently producing $2 per square foot and we can get $10 by
investing $40, we have a twenty-five percent return on investment per annum.
If the developer determines that these ratios are favorable, why would he
or she deliberately invest $50 or $60 per square foot for the same return?
In other words, given the nature and risks of ventures why would anyone
increase risk in an already inherently risky business?
Not only is it unlikely that a developer will invest more than is
required but he or she is unlikely to deliberately restrict rental return.
The hard costs of an
alternative-use scheme consist of three parts: the land, the infrastructure, and
the amenities. The land is a fixed
value regardless of what the scheme is. The
costs of infrastructure are remarkably similar for offices, stores, apartments,
or bowling alleys. The variable
hard costs are the amenities, which constitute between fifteen and twenty
percent of hard costs, a modest portion of the construction costs.
The amenities of the project
are what distinguish a warehouse from an amusement gallery; an office from an
apartment. If the project provides
no amenity, the space is referred to as shell space. As a fraction of overall project cost, amenities are
approximately five percent of the total project budget.
In other words, it is that five percent that distinguishes a raw,
unimproved loft from an upscale, deluxe apartment.
The difference in rent in Philadelphia is approximately 1,000 percent ($1
versus $10 per square foot per year). Given
the option, why would a developer put ninety-five percent of the money at risk
in order to reduce income potential by ninety percent?
Allowed to operate in the
market, alternative uses will move to the upscale option.
The upscale option, in turn, is by definition the use furthest removed
from the current use in terms of rent.
The upscale options also result
in the maximum insult to the fabric. Among
feasible redevelopment options the highest return on investment option is one
that reconfigures the property more than lesser uses.
If a building was originally constructed as a factory and manufacturing
remained the highest and best use, then the market will keep it manufacturing
and the property is not a preservation problem.
If there is no economically feasible option the property will pass out of
the inventory. If redevelopment
occurs, the property must be enhanced in terms of use in a substantially
different way than its current condition or it would already be in that use
group.
The Budd plant on Allegheny
Avenue in Philadelphia is a legitimate piece of industrial Americana.
It is not an object of preservation concern because Budd is still using
it as a factory. The Midvale-Hepenstall
steel mills around the corner from Budd were summarily demolished because they
were no longer valued as mills and no one – including preservationists –
could convince young professionals to want apartments in the middle of the
Hunting Park industrial area. The
loft buildings in Old City were developed as apartments, a configuration as
radically removed from open bays as possible.
There are three fundamental
scenarios of commercial development: stay the same, demolish and rebuild, or
partially demolish and renovate. In
the case of the latter, the partial demolition will move to the extreme of the
financially feasible options. The
wider the potential margin, the greater the alteration.
The development proposals for Eastern State Penitentiary are prime
examples of this principle in action.
CAPITALIZATION VERSUS RENT
To bring Eastern State
Penitentiary to the real estate market as potential rental space requires
investment in the form of site and building improvements.
For a given business operation
there is a limit to the overhead that can be carried. Very simply, if the rent is too high to be covered by the
revenues, the business moves to a location with a lower rent.
The ability of an operation to pay rent, therefore, is tied to the
ability of that operation to realize revenue.
The same thing is true of the ability of that same business to amortize
debt. Whether income pays rent or
pays down debt is academic.
In the scenarios presented for
Eastern State, we determined that given the uses we investigated, the site can
render rent at an average of $2.75 per square foot or approximately $600,000 per
year. The cost of bringing the site
to a state of improvement in order to realize that income requires the
investment of approximately $12.5 million plus approximately $300,000 in
additional annual expenses associated directly with rental operations.
We have also concluded that those funds must come from sources that will
not require repayment of principal or of interest – i.e., appropriations,
donations, or grants.
The net return is, therefore,
$300,000 per year on $12.5 million or approximately 2.4 percent.
It is on this basis that we suggest that a more appropriate use of the
money would be to invest the money in a guaranteed fund of from eight to nine
percent, which will return $1,000,000 per year net without the risks and damage
of the alterations.
One response to this finding
was a question regarding the ability of tenants to carry more of the capital
expense. The scenarios developed in
the study assume that the tenants will, in fact, bring an additional $15 to $20
per square foot in fit-out costs to the rental space. Over the approximately 200,000 rentable square feet that
means that the tenants are providing an additional $3 million to $4 million in
capitalization on top of the $12.5 million provided by the landlord.
In order for the businesses to
carry more than that amount of debt will require a reduction in rent.
As a general rule $1 in annual income can carry $10 of debt; therefore,
if we cut rent by $100,000 per year the tenants could carry an additional $1
million in debt. If we eliminate
rent, the tenants could carry an additional $6 million to the project in
improvements.
As amazing as it may sound,
even if the penitentiary gives away free space, it will cost someone an
additional $6.5 million for improvements mostly in the form of infrastructure
and code compliance items. There
are also scenarios beyond free rent (the landlord pays the tenant to stay on the
property, thus theoretically enabling the tenant to absorb even more of the
capital costs). the point is that
there is an interplay between rent and capitalization; for a given operation,
the lower the rent, the greater the debt the tenant can carry; the higher the
rent, the more capital the landlord must bring to the project.
As
absurd as it may seem, there
are situations in which free rent is appropriate.
There are historic properties that exchange rent for no other reason than
the added security that comes with occupancy.
There are situations in which rents are subsidized in order to provide
housing to low-income groups. The
establishment of the relative contributions to capitalization are a reflection
of the project goals and objectives.
THE PRESERVATION PROCESS
The minimum essential elements
of preservation for a project can be developed from the goals set for a project.
These elements are both general and specific characteristics without
which the project is not worth the effort.
(One such goal for Eastern State was to keep the perimeter wall intact.)
From this list emerge those items that are non-negotiable and those that
are. if the list becomes a detailed
way of saying that everything will be kept intact then that property is not a
good candidate for alternative use.
The next step is to develop a
financial plan to support the preservation objectives.
In the case of Eastern State, one scenario is to develop the site as a
managed ruin. If that becomes the
accepted goal, the financial plan is far less demanding than a scenario in which
one or more cell blocks are restored to a pristine state of repair.
In the course of conducting
this study we learned a great deal about the museum business, namely that it is
a business with the identifiable characteristics of any other business.
Interpretation and revenue are inextricably intertwined, and fund-raising
is as integral to an operation as historic interpretation.
The goals of the museum evolve and are rarely fully developed when the
institution opens its doors. The
plan, therefore, must be progressive and constantly evolving.
There may never be a point at which the interpretation or the
preservation plan is “finished.”
The financial plan is,
therefore, a rather flexible tool that has one objective: equilibrium.
If there is an operating shortfall, alternate use is not the only means
by which to reestablish equilibrium. Given
the irreversible nature of conversion, alternative use may even be considered
the tool of last resort, but without clear goals we have no comparison for other
options.
The broader message to the
preservation community is that an early step in the preservation process should
be, in fact, be the financial plan. A
common assumption is that the preferred first step in the preservation sequence
is a historic-structure report, but we are suggesting that before such a report
there must come a clear statement of goals and objectives and a financial plan
supporting them. A
historic-structure report is an expensive undertaking in itself and may or may
not be necessary if the financial feasibility does not exist.
The idea is to find a use that
fits the building rather than fitting the building to a use.
We discovered that most developers bring a preconceived use to a project
because the use is the part of the development formula with which a given
developer is familiar. Very few developers are comfortable approaching a project
without a preconception of what the project will be.
In other words, if we ask a developer who has always done apartment
conversions, we should not be surprised that his or her solution for the project
is apartments.
The consequence of such
predispositions is that developers typically evaluate a property relative to a
preferred type of use. If a given
property does not appear promising for that developer’s use type, the
developer will alter the building in question or abandon the site and move on to
one that fits the criteria rather than change use.
An analysis of these factors
leads to the conclusion that while commercial development may bring capital
investment to a project, it also brings its own agenda and requirements, which
are not generally compatible with preservation. The degree of incompatibility may not be immediately
apparent, as seen in historic tax-credit projects.
Subsidies and incentives are indirect interventions in the market with
untoward and unpredictable outcomes.
The success of alternate use as
a preservation strategy is considerably more dependent on the establishment of
the global objectives for the property than the subtleties and vagaries of the
real estate market. Without
introspective and open expression of the preservation objectives we naively risk
surrendering the fate of the property to the motives and objectives of the
market.
Samuel Y. Harris |
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