The Pfister, part one

Recently I had the chance to visit the Pfister Hotel in Milwaukee for a dear friend's birthday brunch.

I have a huge love for turn-of-the-century buildings. There is something so delicious in buildings created not just for function, but also for beauty. I have often wandered city streets and simply breathed in the romantic light of Art Deco and Art Nouveau-style buildings. There are many pretty modern buildings, but I am most enthralled by the classics.

The Pfister is one such place. The hotel was built in the late 1890s and it's quite marvelous, inside and out.

As we approached the Pfister, I stopped to take a few pictures.





There was a seventies expansion or separate building next door, and other typical functional-but-not-pretty buildings nearby. The building across the street was done in red brick, and had this lovely design on the front:



We ate brunch on the eighth floor, in a room that must have once been used for dancing, considering the lyre imagery, the high ceilings, and the small balcony which was probably for the musicians. The view of Milwaukee was intriguing. The aged glass wasn't very conducive to photos, but I kind of like the distortion in a way. I love the way that Milwaukee crowds into itself, smokestacks and old buildings and new, the art museum at full sail, the signs of commerce, everything unfolding.







I am a girl who is firmly from the suburbs; I don't understand cities, but they do fascinate me. That so many people could stack into one area, the ebb and flow, old and new juxtaposed together; it makes me want to find out how it happens, trace the first building, the horse and cart paths that turned the city into streets and lots, find the oldest piece of sidewalk. Walking through the city is always an inspiring journey.