Paris Shoes at 51 W. Hastings, in Vancouver, possibly 1919. If shoeboxes still looked this beautifully white, you wouldn’t have to have salespeople constantly disappearing into the back. I somehow doubt that the uniform whiteness of this bank of shoe boxes could every happen again, though, and if it did it would be some sort of high art hipsterism rather than pure utility. In 1945 this shoe shop was still in operation, and that’s Pierre Paris in front of it, below, just after the end of the war. Like so many buildings in Vancouver’s Downtown Eastside, the building fell into disrepair (see bottom) over the past few decades and was condemned. But it has been gutted and saved and has just been turned into condos. That’s optimistic on the developer’s part, considering that the block is even sketchier now than it was when Hastings Street was the logging skid road that gave birth to the term skid row. You can see the building’s interesting retail neighbour in the before pre-renovation shot at bottom. Lots more pictures of the building and neighbourhood are at parisblock.com. From the site:

… For over 60 years The Paris Block was home to Pierre Paris & Sons – a logging boot manufacturer and shoe retailer. Today, the Paris family company continues as Paris Orthotics on West 4th Avenue. Originally built in 1907, The Paris Block is unique in that massive iron i-beams were employed to span the entire width of the building… A mixed retail and commercial building, The Paris Block was originally known as the Eastern Building, and attracted prominent tenants from the beginning. Not long after its construction, the upper floors became the Strathcona Hotel while the ground floor was occupied by Pierre Paris & Sons in 1919. Remnants of the painted signage for both these businesses are still visible on the east and west exposures of the building.

This is artist Donald Judd’s loft in Soho, maintained as a museum but only open infrequently. It was one of the first artist’s lofts in Soho – not to mention in New York – and is now almost the paradigmatic example of loft living. Judd bought the entire 1870’s industrial building for 70,000 in 1968 and moved in with his family. One of the central figures in minimalist art, Judd clearly lived his own aesthetic. His interest in industrial materials and engineering methods is evident here in the lack of any attempt to domesticate the space as well as in the simple, unadorned furniture he built for it. The NYT ran an article a while ago which included an interview with Judd’s son Flavin, who was 6 months old when he moved into this loft and who nostalgically described the Soho of the 60s and 70s as a small town smelling fragrantly of the cigars manufactured nearby. These days there’s a certain huffiness out there about modernism and minimalism’s supposed kid-unfriendliness, but Flavin Judd remembers this space – ground zero of minimalism – happily and even nostalgically (there’s a small image of the Judds at home, below). “There were “the best Swedish breakfasts on the second floor — 50 people would come over — ham, cheese, weird flatbreads, salmon,” Flavin Judd said. “It was a great place to grow up.” To read the whole story, which includes information on the heritage restoration of the whole building, see the NYT. See also this blog’s previous post on minimalism.vs. maximalism in interiors. There’s a good shot of the a reproduction of Judd’s famous daybed on AT , and lastly, Loft Living: Culture and Capital in Urban Change by Sharon Zukin provides a really fascinating portrait and social history of artist’s lofts, including 101 Spring Street. According to the Judd Foundation website, tours of the Spring St. building and loft are suspended during restoration but will start up again in 2010.

Photos from the NYT and from DiscoContinental on Flickr. Take a fun quiz (is it a Judd or a piece of cheap furniture?) here.