1313
(1 vote, average 5.00 out of 5)
Written by Debra Brehmer, Contributing writer
Aug 11, 2010
The lobby of the Iron Horse Hotel seems calibrated to define and deliver a pleasant air of testosterone. – Photo: Art Elkon
In the Renaissance, as Italian society was rapidly changing, a diplomat, Baldassare Castiglione, wrote a treatise called “The Book of the Courtier” (1513-1518). In it he tried to categorize the new ideal of manhood or l’uomo universale. He recommended middle height, solid build, “shapely of limb,” light and supple, good wrestling skills, tennis, sportsmanship, fitness, education, knowledge of Latin and Greek. A man must speak and write well, draw, play an instrument. The ideal man should be calm and “a play of the eyes shall give an effect of grace.”
Esquire Magazine updated Castiglione’s tutorial in 2009 with its “How to be a Man” primer. http://www.esquire.com/features/what-is-a-man-0509. A more direct and coarser assessment, Esquire maintains nevertheless that the modern man is still coy with the eyes when sneaking a peak, muscular, but now interested in gadgets and mechanical things and confident in TV watching choices.
If one combined the sophistication of Castiglione with the post-modern practicality of Esquire you would arrive at the doors of the Iron Horse Hotel, a mecca of manliness. The Iron Horse Hotel was specifically designed to codify in material form everything that men like and to present an atmosphere that any XY determinate could settle into with an innate sense of belonging. Every decision, from wall color to lighting, from the width of the chairs to the reclamation of cream-city history through the re-use of old doors, brick and wooden beams, seems calibrated to define and deliver a pleasant air of testosterone.
Approaching its second birthday in September, the Iron Horse is located just south of the Harley Davidson Museum at 500 W. Florida St. It started as a dream of local real estate developer Tim Dixon to purchase this 100-year-old, former mattress factory in Milwaukee’s Menomonee Valley and turn it into not only a boutique hotel but the nation’s first upscale, privately owned hotel dedicated to motorcycle culture and, more broadly, manliness. Dixon had no experience in the hotel business, but he has an adventurous history of selecting high-risk locations for projects. He smartly employed the firm of Kubala Washatko Architects Inc. to sensitively transform but preserve the integrity of the 1907 brick warehouse, both interior and exterior.
One might think it was a foolhardy dream to build a pricey hotel with a focused demographic in a decidedly un-gentrified part of a city with a high crime rate. There is no Starbucks up the road, only big old warehouses and factories, some that still function. A nearby rendering plant, for example, recently provided a manly scent on a muggy night as one approached.
Design is by nature artificial. It is a contrived idea of abstract notions of taste and style mitigated by functionality. Often, the consciousness of those design choices is quite transparent. We are so aware of the staging and framing of our experience that we can’t fully integrate into it. The most amazing thing about the Iron Horse Hotel is that it is contrived to be masculine in cliché ways: One could dissect it according to the holy trinity of leather, metal and wood. And yet, even though it is an obvious and artificial ploy, it feels sincere and embracing. It is both things at once – a fantasy land of role playing (which parallels Harley culture) and a real space made of wood, leather and metal, wrapped in the warm, weighty, dignified cloak of historic narrative. The truth of the materials and the timeworn history of the building seem to overcome the artificial conceit of its creation. In this tug of war, authenticity seldom trumps design rigor and manipulation. But it wins at the Iron Horse.
After entering the large doors of the red brick building (note the size and tactility of the handles), we are swept into the understated but elaborate setting of the lobby. Time stops. Candles burn on low wooden tables at all hours. But that compressed sense of intimacy is infused and paired with the contemporary jutting of space upward to an open second story.
Leather couches and boardroom chairs were either commissioned for the space or purchased used. They carry the patina of cigar smoking and big decisions, with an underlying, subtle, erotic portent. Pieces of old foundry forms, wooden spindles, some kind of mechanical measuring device and various gears form table top still lifes – elegantly baited invitations for conversation. It is all about touch and connection.
From this center, which is framed within exposed old-growth, heavy timber support beams logged a century ago in Northern Wisconsin, the Iron Horse rewards those who wander: a library down one hall, an informal and often rambunctious bar with antique pool table, cabinets of Harley curiosities and the dimly lit Smythe restaurant where one can nibble Rabbit confit wrapped in bacon. Then there’s the outside patio area (“The Yard”), a smooth extension of the interior, offering cushioned seating, tables made of reclaimed wood doors, and a unique vista of viaduct, cable-stayed bridge, railroad tracks and a city skyline.
So often, we look to the east or west coasts for inspiration. The Iron Horse doesn’t look askance. It succeeds because it pulls from the unique, valid, quirky, noteworthy and even noble history of Milwaukee and originates a style based on locality. Regionalism and sustainability are the hopeful benchmarks of our new age and the Iron Horse employs these strategies to great advantage. Even the antiquated notion of “manliness” seems palatable here.
