Avuncular American

The Modernist Tangier American Consulate General

1961... Fifty years ago, a modernist architectural edifice in "New Tangier" replaces the Gift of the Sultan.

[T]he Tangier Legation was an exception.  Before 1821, and for a long while after, the United States owned no property abroad...

[In the 1950s and 60s] Projects such as Tangier... designed by young "stars" such as Hugh Stubbins, created lasting landmarks...

Jane C. Loeffler, The Architecture of Diplomacy: Building America's Embassies (Revised 2nd Edition, 2011)

Dr. Loeffler appropriately starts the first chapter of her fascinating story of American diplomatic buildings with the very first one, the Tangier American Legation.  But she provides a wealth of detail about the building that is our subject today: the modernist structure that 50 years ago, in the fall of 1961, became the American Consulate General in Tangier.

Alas, the "lasting landmark" that Stubbins designed served a mere quarter century before the United States decided that it no longer needed a Consulate General in Tangier.  Happily, our Gift of the Sultan, the Tangier American Legation, has had a fuller life - we are 190 this year, and already thinking about our bicentennial.

A new building for the Legation had often been talked about, as far back as a century ago in 1911, when the business lobby the American Embassy Association called attention to the state of the Tangier Legation building in its publication American Embassies, Legations, and Consulates Mean Better Foreign Business: An Argument in Pictures and Paragraphs.

But Moroccan independence came in 1956 with the historic building still in the medina, the legacy of Sultan Moulay Slimane since 1821.  The Legation building continued for another five years as the US Consulate General, then morphed to its new life in 1961 with the opening of the Stubbins structure.

Hugh Stubbins, one of Jane Loeffler's "star" American architects, was an Eero Saarinen contemporary, and went on to design a number of landmarks.  Writes Loeffler:

In Tangier... Hugh Stubbins employed screens mainly to create an animated architecture.  Stubbins has compared the Tangier screen to one he designed soon after for the Loeb Drama Center in Cambridge, Massachusetts.  His idea, he says, was to provide some daytime privacy and to allow the building to glow from within at night.

Though the Stubbins buildings, sold when the US decided to close the Consulate, still stand, the distinctive screens on the office building have given way to a monolithic facade, added by the current occupants, the Moroccan Ministry of the Interior and its Tangier Wilaya Council.  The removal of the modernist screens was decried by the Moroccan architectural community, to no avail.

The aerial photo below, from the 1960s when the building probably still smelled of fresh cement, shows empty fields surrounding the site.  Today, it is the center of an upscale residential neighborhood, though the trademark security wall surrounding the property is much as it would have been in its heyday as an American Consulate General. 

Times change, as do diplomatic priorities.  By the 1980s, it was no longer deemed necessary to maintain an American consular presence in the city which had been Morocco's diplomatic gateway to the world, and the site of an American diplomatic or consular representation since the 1790s.  The Consul General's residence (photo above, left) is now the headquarters of the Association of Mediterranean Ombudsmen.

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Thanks to Jane Loeffler and Ken Rogers, who was US Consul General in Tangier 1980-85, for photos and illustrations.

Gerald Loftus

Museum-Quality Extinguishers: Fire Prevention Week

L to R: Tony Spears, Mhamed Ismaili, Tommy Johnson

Earlier this year I joked that the Legation fire plan consisted of praying to St. Florian, patron saint of fire fighters.  In the ensuing year, we have made a little progress towards our goal of surviving a fire, and saving the contents of this historic building.

During our fire drill in January, we discovered that the fire hose in our library - 8,000 volumes, many of them rare editions, in an 18th century medina courtyard building - wasn't even fed by a water supply.  We remedied that, and now the water can flow in case of fire.

We still don't have any fire extinguishers worthy of the name: Tony Spears, visiting State  Department OBO fire expert, told us that our most recent models are 1992 vintage.  Above, with OBO Rabat Facility Manager Tommy Johnson and his associate Mhamed Ismaili, Tony accepts our modest gift to the OBO fire office.

Now OBO Washington has a historic fire extinguisher from America's oldest diplomatic building.  We still have some that will be polished and go into our museum - as exhibits.

Soda acid extinguishers, like our venerable ALFCO model at right, date back to the 19th century, though ours is probably only sixty years old or so.

Our hopes are pinned on this new interest in fire protection for our building, and we hope to mark National Fire Prevention Week next year with a picture of brand new extinguishers.  So we won't have to celebrate the 20th birthday of our youngest extinguishers.

Then we'll inaugurate a shrine to St. Tony.

Gerald Loftus

Tangier - Worthy Of UNESCO Status?

The Kasbah Museum (Moroccan Ministry of Culture) partnered with Italian NGO COSPE to host a two-day seminar on Tangier's architectural and cultural heritage.  A worthy effort, one that this city sorely needs, with developers greedily eyeing every square meter of available land.

A parade of presenters, including a Moroccan director at the Paris Institut du Monde Arabe, shared insights on how other cities, in Morocco and elsewhere, have sought to safeguard their historic buildings and districts.  It starts with an inventory of what you have already.

Strangely, the only building that actually is designated - the Tangier American Legation, the only US National Historic Landmark outside the United States - does not feature on Tangier's wish list for conservation status.  That's because the historic landmark designation is American, not Moroccan.

Actually, the Legation is doubly designated, as it is also the oldest American diplomatic building, the jewel in the crown of the Secretary of State's register of Culturally Significant Properties.

Tangier, though not a royal city like Fez or Meknes, does have its share of other buildings worth preserving.  There's the forest hideaway of Ion Perdicaris (of "Wind and the Lion" fame), pictured at right.  The house, properly restored, would be an instant draw, and would typify Tangier's days as an international city.

Going even further back in the city's long history, there's the tomb of Tangier's most famous native son, Ibn Battouta.  The inveterate traveler's final resting place is reachable through the winding streets of the medina, but you have to be a determined pilgrim to find it, and when you do, you will be disappointed at how poorly his city honors him.

Ditto for the picturesque Teatro Cervantes, photographed by thousands of tourists every year, magnificent in its decrepitude.  Sceptical participants in the seminar questioned the laborious listing process: "we've been trying to get it listed for more than ten years, and in the meantime it continues to fall to pieces."

Which brings me to my question: is Tangier worthy of the UNESCO World Heritage status that some would like to see it get?  Sure, Tangier has many buildings that hark back to the layers of civilization which once called this place home.  But doesn't there have to be a strong element of local pride in these places?  A concerted effort to conserve them?

The people around the table at this week's seminar are the converted.  Preaching to them doesn't stop the bulldozers.

Gerald Loftus

Paint the Legation: Tangier Comes Through

Well, we did it.

The "we" is many: the three artists - American, Moroccan, French (see photo below) - who donated their works depicting our historic building to the Legation for its permanent collection.  The many people - expats, Moroccans, art galleries, hotels, restaurants, and artists - who donated raffle (known as "tombola" here) prizes and works of art for our auction.

But my highest praise goes to those who gave of their time and helped make this fund raising event possible.  Our "committee" of Americans, Europeans, and Moroccans made this a very enjoyable way to part with one's money, all for a good cause.

We probably broke all the rules of Tangier conventional wisdom - "nobody will pay an entrance fee" - as well as conducting our auction of donated works without the services of a professional auctioneer.  We probably didn't even garner the full value that the works represent.

But our little group of amateur fundraisers did the Legation proud.  Now we will apply our proceeds to "piggy back" on the roof restoration work by our State Department landlords at Overseas Building Operations.

They'll do roofs, and we'll tackle walls.  Public-private partnership.

Now that we've entered the world of fund raising in Tangier, maybe we can reproduce the effort in places like Washington and New York, where there are people who, like our loyal Tangier public, know the historic and enduring value of this symbol of America's ties to Morocco, Africa, and the Arab and Muslim worlds.

(Photo by Carol Malt. Left to right: Terry Connor, Jerry Loftus, Rachid Alaoui, Hervé Metterie)

Gerald Loftus

Paint the Legation

 Peindre la Légation

It all started with this observation: the art collection at the Legation Museum barely had any images of the Legation building itself.

The Tangier American Legation, given to the United States by Morocco's Sultan Moulay Slimane in 1821.  America's oldest diplomatic building.  It deserves to be the subject of Moroccan, American, and European artists.

Hence "Paint the Legation" - an evening where we will unveil new works depicting the historic building, and raise money to help (re)Paint the Legation, or at least those parts of it that the State Department's Office of Overseas Buildings Operations (OBO) hasn't yet refurbished.

Reception, tombola, auction... we're going to try it all at our fundraising event on Saturday 2 July at 18:00.

Gerald Loftus

Restoration, Renovation, Preservation: Keeping the Legation Whole

Recently I had to explain how it was that, despite Morocco's generally sunny, beneficent climate, we had to worry about such things as heavy rains, humidity, and mold here in Tangier.  Location, location, location - we're on the Strait of Gibraltar, and there's a lot of water in several directions.

So it's no surprise that much of our effort here is keeping the buildings from succumbing to nature's ravages.

We do get crucial assistance from our State Department landlords, whose Overseas Buildings Operations (OBO) list the American Legation as a Culturally Significant Property.  Recently we had several roofs replaced, and there are more on the drawing board.

But in between the major roof reconstruction, done by professional contractors, we have the kind of labor-intensive detail work that you see Abdallah doing here.  That piece of balsustrade he's holding now won't be falling on someone's head.

But it's time-consuming work, and while he's working on the courtyard and its balustrade, other projects equally justified have to be put on the waiting list.  We are light years away from the "nice to do" list; everything, for the foreseeable future, is on the essential list.

Gerald Loftus

Cherry Blossoms and Clivia, Washington and Tangier

This post has no purpose other than showing pretty pictures.  The first, thanks to a visit to the Legation garden by Europa Nostra.  Europa Nostra is a Netherlands - based group dedicated to the preservation of historic buildings.  As you can see in the background, we have plenty of restoration work to do at our Culturally Significant Property, but at least our garden now has an orange tree in each of the four parterres around the central fountain.  Along with the clivias.  Very peaceful.

The bright orange flowers may be gone by the time I return to Tangier - they only last a matter of weeks.  Clivias were unknown to me before my arrival in Morocco, and I note that there is an American Clivia Society.  At first skeptical about these large, fat plants, I was enchanted by their bright blooms.  I will await patiently until they blossom again next spring.

Washington too will have to wait another year until it's Cherry Blossom time again.  My arrival here last weekend coincided with the annual parade, with locals and tourists alike relieved that it was not cancelled by a feared Federal Government shutdown.  The show went on.

I caught the last of the blossoms on Lafayette Square, across from the White House.  Glad to see that the Marquis is properly honored looking over the Square to la Maison Blanche.

Gerald Loftus

Open for Business, In Tangier and Washington

Have I become accustomed to living in historic landmarks?  En route to a week in Washington for meetings, I have decided to set up shop at DACOR Bacon House, one of Foggy Bottom's few remaining historic homes, now the home of DACOR, which organizes a lively calendar of activities for foreign affairs professionals.

I've stayed at Bacon House before, and wrote about their display of one of the Tangier American Legation's cedar gates.  You can see it at their museum dedicated to American diplomacy.  One of the reasons I feel at home there.

So I was relieved, jet-lagged and watching the breaking news from the US in the wee hours of the April 8/9 European morning, that Congress and White House managed to avert a shutdown of the United States Government.  Which for me would have been inconvenient, given that TALIM's landlord is the USG.  Now I can meet our landlord's representatives and discuss the many important historic preservation initiatives that depend on the State Department's office of Culturally Significant Properties.

Anticipating the now-averted government shutdown, I had already begun to concentrate on arranging appointments with a number of non-governmental organizations in the many areas that TALIM is active.  A good number of these organizations are headquartered in Washington.  Perhaps a reflection of the fact that many depend on government funding, but also simply because proximity to the Federal government is essential for organizations active in education, historical preservation, and international exchanges.

Washington.  Where the money is.  Which is why I'm going there, but also because lobbying shouldn't be left to the lobbyists.  There are programs to learn about, grants to be pursued, and people to meet.  Every day in Washington creates a multiplier effect for our operation in Tangier.

Meanwhile, TALIM is very much open for business.  Coming to Tangier in May?  Check out the Legation stand at the International Book Fair, our second foray into the world of book fairs in six months.

In D.C., as President Obama just reminded us, the Washington Monument will be open.  Maybe I'll go check out some museums.  Washington is a museum Mecca, and most of them are not only free but world-class.  I'll have to check out those display cases...

Gerald Loftus

In Case of Fire, Pray to St. Florian

You know that Tangier is extremely humid, even when it's not raining.  You also know that the historic American Legation building is stone, cement, plaster, and concrete, materials in use in our 18th through 20th century buildings.  And that these walls are soaking wet (so says our new moisture meter).  So who's worried about fire safety?

It turns out that we're also 50% wood and other flammable material.  Beams, lath, parquet floors, windows, shutters, doors (and doors-within-gates), etc.  Not to speak of furniture, picture frames, and books, lots of books.  Oh yes, and I'm not really sure that our mazout or fuel oil supply is all that secure.  We are flammable.  Highly.

That tag you see is from a fire extinguisher, last inspected in 2003 (ignore the reference to "monthly").  We have some two dozen of them, which had been distributed across our 45-room, 5-building, 5-staircase institution.  I'm glad the tag says that it was in "Good" condition...  eight years ago.  Apparently even that's not reassuring, given some companies' practice of sandblasting old extinguishers down to the metal case, painting them shiny fire engine red, like new! Contents: untouched.

Someone, seeing my collection of fire extinguishers, suggested that we could save money by collecting the dust that has built up in our courtyard from the wall and roof resurfacing project.  Makes great fire extinguisher refill material, they tell me.  Inshallah.

I missed National Fire Prevention Week last October, but I can't wait until International Firefighters Day in May.  Fire safety is now, so... we're having a fire drill!  No, bad timing. Did Noah have a fire drill in the Deluge?

Well, the rain stopped this afternoon for a bit, so we gave it a try.  Not the tagged A-B-C hand-held models, but the old-time fire hoses that are found throughout the Legation, installed probably when this place was still a functioning diplomatic post (i.e., pre-1962, or almost 50 years ago).

I hope that they were tested in the last half century, but I can't be sure.  One thing I know: they remain nicely rolled up, locked in their metal cabinets, with the keys on the inside, behind glass.  Did they ever display the "In Case of Fire, Break Glass" instructions?

By the time our team figures out that the glass slides and was not to be broken, precious minutes have slipped by.  We retrieve the key.  Now, metal door open, we see that the hose - in remarkably good shape after all these years - is not connected to the spigot.  More minutes. 

The hose is attached and unfurled, with Ahmed (left) heading for our thankfully imaginary fire.  Open the spigot.  Nothing.  Water does not go to that particular hydrant (is that the proper term?).  Oh well, maybe we won't have any fires in our library, filled with 8,000 rare volumes on Morocco. We are toast.

Until we get working - and regularly inspected - fire extinguishers, along with water to our fire hoses, we don't have a prayer in the event of a fire.

Therefore, my resolution for the next Fire Prevention Day: build a marabout to St. Florian.

Saint Florian is the patron saint of firefighters.

Gerald Loftus

Wired, Wireless, Haywire: Legation's Trimlines Get Sidelined

Twenty years ago, in the magical Belgian film Toto le héros, we saw a glimpse of the future: walking down the street, you're confronted with wiring, plumbing, and tubing coming out of the most unexpected places.  It's the Centre Pompidou effect, but without the discipline.

I've seen the future, and it's here in the medina. The Wired Effect.  It's even crept into the historic Tangier American Legation.  So I've declared the War on Wires.

That pile of tangled telephone line you see (only a representative sample) used to be on our walls.  Not "in" but "on."  Same principle applied to electricity.  Need a new plug for that stove?  No problem.  We'll just drill a hole in this nearby wall, string the cable through the 19th century courtyard, then drill another hole to get it back inside. Presto!

The impetus for this War on Wires has been twofold.  Thanks to funding from institutional sponsors AIMS and CAORC, TALIM has been able to retire its venerable Trimline™ phones.  For those who don't remember, here's the Collectors Weekly blurb:

The Trimline, like the Princess phone, was one of the Bell System's best marketing innovations. First introduced in 1965, the idea was to create a stylish, easier to use telephone. A huge success, the Trimline was copied by most other major telephone manufacturers. The Trimline's dial was located in the handset itself with the ringer and electronics inside the telephone's base.

Yes, and when combined with vintage 110v Radio Shack® intercoms (and lots of transformers), you had a means of paging Monsieur le Directeur through many parts of this sprawling place.  "M. le Directeur, Mr. Ben Shismu is calling," the intercom would announce, to all within earshot, including the caller.  "Who?" the Directeur would respond.  "Mr. Ben Shismu..." followed by information that one hoped the caller himself did not overhear.  Our new phones have an intercom function, but the caller doesn't get to listen in.

And the wiring is either in the wall or in a relatively unobtrusive track.

I'm going to have to flog the old phones on eBay.  They'll be treasures to someone.

The other trigger to our anti-wiring crusade has been our State Department funded roofing project, which has waterproofed selected - stress on selected - roofs and walls.  Somehow the application of fresh paint makes these eyesores even more visible, and also leads to new discoveries: many of the wires, long since superseded, were simply left to dangle in the breeze, snipped at one end.  Away they go.

In the bargain, we've not only installed new phones and additional extensions, but extended WiFi to most parts of the Legation.  Thanks to Morocco's excellent high speed ADSL and 3G coverage, it is the envy of most countries on the African continent in terms of internet access.  We still have a long way to go, but phone-wise and internet-wise, we have moved from the '60s to at least the mid noughts.  Not bad.

With all this modernity, we haven't forgotten our roots.  In fact, our newest acquisition is this vintage phone, purchased at a nearby antique shop for use as a prop in our budding "Legation Room," an attempt to recreate an office in our museum to illustrate that this was once a working American diplomatic post.

And we got it for a bargain.  Not trusting the price quoted to me, the Foreigner, we had our undercover shopper Yhtimad go there a few days later (she was already known to the shopkeeper as a customer) and get it for half the price.  Foreigner price, Moroccan price.

This antique dealer doesn't know me yet.  I once negotiated for two years with an Alexandrian mashrabiya dealer over a beautiful antique picture frame.  I was a good customer, and we became friends in the bargain, chatting politics etc. for long periods over mint tea.  In the end, my Egyptian friend just gave me the frame.

I'm going to have to sip some tea with my Tangier antique guy...

Gerald Loftus