Stanford Mansion Evokes A Sense of Place

By Don Rittner

For anyone who has traveled throughout this country statistics show that you probably visited a museum, historic site, or cultural event. In fact, 58% of you included a historic activity or event on a trip during the past year according to the Travel Industry Association. This translates to an estimated 84.7 million U.S. adults. Moreover, 41 percent of past-year travelers say they visited a designated historic site such as a building, landmark, home, or monument during their trip. Three in ten (28%) visited a designated historic community or town.

One of the driving forces behind heritage tourism is a “sense of place.” Place has been defined by a number of disciplines. Biographical, historical and familial sense of place has to do with being born in and living in a location, where the connection develops over time. Talk to anyone who grew up in Schenectady’s Stockade and they will be the first to tell you how special it is. There is spiritual or emotional sense of place that is an intangible feeling of a sense of belonging – it’s felt rather than created. One can sense this standing on a high dune in the Pine Bush. There is the ideological, based on moral and ethical ideals. For example, one may feel they need to live in a particular neighborhood based on ethnicity or cultural identity. There is narrative or mythical sense of place where one learns about a place through stories, myths, or family histories. One may need to live in a region because the region has the best “history.” There is the commodified or cognitive where you choose a place based on a set of certain traits and lifestyle preferences, for example, a type of suburban housing development. All of these influence humanity and their choices through time. One or two of these forms have developed importance in the environmental and historical preservation communities.

While philosophers have been debating the subject for years, recently “place” has been used in public policy to justify programs and regulations for environmental protection and cultural/heritage preservation. The powerful sense of place that people associate with a historic or natural site such as Gettysburg National Battlefield, the Vietnam Wall, “Ground Zero,” or the Pine Bush, is used often to argue for special treatment as "sacred or hallowed grounds." These special places have been under attack by developers who want to capitalize on the growing number of visitors. Fortunately, saner minds have prevailed and there isn’t a Wallmarts at Gettysburg. Nor has the Taj Mahal been turned into a fine Indian cuisine restaurant – yet!

In the Capital District, there is no scarcity of locations that evoke emotion, or a sense of place for what nature has given us, or our ancestors have built. A trip to the Helderbergs, Cohoes Falls, and Pine Bush will satisfy anyone’s curiosity on the powers of nature. Likewise, a visit to the many museums, historic sites, and cultural institutions feeds the hunger for knowledge or sense of place that local history provokes.

Yet, many of these locations are under invasion by those who see dollars instead of purpose. It appears that a few of our elected officials fail to realize that preserving these natural and human resources means dollars AND sense.

Place is socially constructed; it doesn't come as a biological or historical mandate. Instead, place is made by people, both individually and collectively, creating constructs of place with a combination and consolidation of narratives, histories, personal connections or experiences, and emotions.

One of the more obvious battles between these dueling concepts of place and profit is the Schuyler-Stanford mansion in Niskayuna. A local developer wants to convert 12 acres of wooded grounds and centuries old historic mansion into a road with several new retail establishments across from Mohawk Commons, the former defunct Mohawk Mall.

While first proposing to move the mansion (provided it would survive) to the back of the grounds, it has now been decided to leave it, demolish the back, and turn it into a restaurant surrounded by roads, retail, and parking. Opponents have rightfully argued that this is not preservation. Here the concept of sense of place can be illustrated clearly. Imagine sitting on the lawn of the Stanford Mansion in the middle of Latham Circle and then its current location amidst tall trees and grass. In which location would you feel connected? Yet, this plan is no more questionable than putting a McDonalds at the foot of Mt Rushmore, a Wal-Mart’s at Gettysburg’s National Monument, or other attempts by developers to destroy historic sites in the false pretense of lowering the tax rate, etc.

Fortunately, government officials and citizens have battled back. To the relief of many Americans, on December 20, 2006, the Pennsylvania Gaming Control Board denied a license for a slots parlor a mile away from the Gettysburg Battlefield, where 10,000 soldiers lost their lives. In May, the city of El Paso, Texas apparently had enough. After watching a 1907 mansion deteriorate for years, the city council voted to seize the Albert Bacon Fall house by eminent domain—its first exercise of that power—in order to preserve it. In 2005, voters in Ogunquit, Maine, passed an ordinance that bans chain stores in their four-square-mile coastal town. About 79 percent of voters in the town of 1,300 supported the measure. Residents of Sauk City, Wisconsin said no to a developer's plan to tear down seven houses in a historic neighborhood to make way for a Walgreen’s.

The Stanford Mansion is not your typical historic site. Preservationists are often given the task to save a building based on architectural rarity or the identity or contribution of its owner. This building and its grounds are important for both those reasons and then some. It is the only “green space” buffer available when entering the city of Schenectady from Route 5. Architecturally, it has been called the “Mt. Vernon” of the east; a stately Federal period mansion built around 1817.

More importantly, it appears most of those who resided on the grounds have made significant contributions to local and even national and international history. Phillip Schuyler, captain of the Queen’s Fort in Schenectady had an Indian deed for the land from the Mohawk Nation in 1711. He was the younger brother of Colonel Pieter Schuyler, the first Mayor of Albany. The Dutch Reformed Church of Schenectady received a patent for 2500 acres including this parcel and leased it to John Duncan who built a stately mansion there in 1762. His son Richard, along with a Scottish general in hiding, both disguised themselves and breached through American lines in the Mohawk valley and became officers in the British army. Richard became the captain of a company in the King’s NY Royal Regiment. Harmanus P. Schuyler, former City Treasurer of Albany and supervisor of the Town of Niskayuna built the present mansion just north of Duncan’s, and Charles Stanford (publisher of the Schenectady Union-Star newspaper, NY State Senator and Assemblyman, and a local businessman), brother of Leland Stanford (Central Pacific Railroad, governor of California, and founder of Stanford University) lived there until he died in 1885. A better use of the site would be a museum dedicated to the contributions made by all of these people.

It makes more sense for “adapted reuse,” rather than “move and abuse.” Within walking distance of the Woodlawn Preserve, it could become a center for environmental and historical education; the rooms in the addition could become offices for environmental and historical organizations in the Capital District. An exclusive hotel/conference center geared to industry such as GE, or the so-called Nanotech firms moving into the area, could also make it an economic success. Even an upscale mix of unique small boutiques and bed and breakfast in the newer wing could work. Perhaps it’s time to think outside the (vanilla plywood) box!

Current plans on saving the building and destroying the surrounding landscape is like loosing both arms and still being able to walk. Not the kind of salvation one would strive for. The wooded grounds, the stately mansion, and the contributions made by the people that lived there give the site a sense of place that makes it unique in the region. Preserving this site in total is the most common sense approach. As poet and novelist Robert Penn Warren wrote: “History cannot give us a program for the future, but it can give us a fuller understanding of ourselves, and of our common humanity, so that we can better face the future.”

Developing a strong sense of place helps us identify with our community and with each other. Fostering a strong sense of place can lead to more sensitive stewardship of our cultural history and natural environment.

In other words, as Harriet Beecher Stowe succinctly put it, “Common sense is the knack of seeing things as they are, and doing things as they ought to be done.”