How time passes! The next installment of the “‘What Milwaukee Is Made Of” series aired earlier today on WUWM-FM Radio’s popular Lake Effect program. And it’s already been posted on our podcast webpage (see link at bottom). This is the show I’ve been particularly looking forward to doing, because it’s devoted to the Cream City’s Art Deco masterpiece, the Wisconsin Gas Building.
And that means we’re also featuring the two beautiful building-stone varieties displayed on the exterior of this magnificent 1930 skyscraper.
The upper portion of the set-back Wisconsin Gas Building is trimmed in pinkish-tan,”Kasota Stone,” known to geologists as Oneota Dolostone, of Lower Ordovician age.
Higher up on the building, the main expanse of handsome but unsourced ocher-tinted brick is trimmed by southwestern Minnesota’s Oneota Dolostone.
But the real show-stealer is the much more flamboyant metamorphic rock used to face the bottom two stories. This is the Morton Gneiss. Also hailing from Minnesota, it is in fact a migmatite or “mixed rock” that is actually a composite of several types that formed during the far-distant Archean eon. With its earliest constituent isotopically dated to more than 3.5 billion years ago, the Morton is not only the oldest building stone you’ll see in Milwaukee, it’s the oldest used architecturally in any quantity over the entire planet.
The main entrance is surmounted by a dazzling bronze sunburst symbol made of bronze—a geologically derived alloy in continuous human use for at least 7 thousand years. And the doorway is flanked by half-columns fashioned from 3.5-billion-year-old Morton Gneiss.
In this episode, host Sam Woods and I discuss the origin and significance of both the lovely Oneota and the chaotically patterned Morton, discover the geologic origins of the beautiful bronze sunburst adorning the entrance, and also explore the immense role played by Art Deco design in the history of American architecture
Detail of the upper southern portion of Milwaukee’s City Hall. The geologically derived materials on display here are St. Louis Brick, Winkle Terra Cotta, also from St. Louis., and some modern replacements for both. The Devonian—repeat, Devonian—Berea Sandstone is found farther down on the exterior.
Well, depending on where you live and what your taste in architecture is, you may not agree with my assessment that Milwaukee’s seat of civic government is the most beautiful building of its kind in the world. But I’ve seen and researched quite a few others of its type, and I’ve found no other edifice that’s quite so grand, quite so lovely, or quite so geologically interesting. Or, for that matter, quite so visually weird—if one takes into account the mind-bending geometry of its amazing interior.
Accordingly, I was delighted when series host Sam Woods suggested that the third installment of our “What Milwaukee Is Made Of” series should be devoted to the Cream City’s 1895 City Hall. This episode originally aired on WUWM’s acclaimed Lake Effect program on Monday, December 16, 2024. And now it’s available as a free-access podcast.
All that said, I have to issue one blooper alert. When Sam asks me about one of City Hall’s building materials—Ohio’s Berea Sandstone—I mention that it dates to the Mississippian subperiod of the Carboniferous. While for most of my career that age assignment was considered correct, in recent years the Berea has been reinterpreted as belonging instead to the final chapter of the preceding period, the Devonian.
As geologic dating goes, it’s quite a slight change—the gentlest downward nudge across the Mississippian-Devonian boundary line. Still, I’m an accuracy freak and I’m really irked that I didn’t just say “Uppermost Devonian.”
At least I can console myself with the fact that I have the revised age cited correctly in both Milwaukee in Stone and Clay and its predecessor, Chicago in Stone and Clay. So why did I get it wrong for the taping of this show? Perhaps because old understandings die hard. Or perhaps it was the fact I had experienced a major PC meltdown and frustrating software reinstallation process just a few hours before doing the interview, with all sorts of glitches continuing up to the time we did the show.
In any event, I am still meditating to calm myself down after my techno-troubles. And the mantra I’m using: “Berea Sandstone . . . Uppermost Devonian . . . Om . . . Berea Sandstone . . Uppermost Devonian . . . Om.” It really gets me in touch with my inner stratigrapher.
Update of January 6, 2025: I’m happy to report that the blooper cited above has now been fixed. Last week, program host Sam Woods and I redid the section of the show that contained my original incorrect geologic-age assignment for the Berea. The updated episode has now been posted (see the link below).
So why didn’t I just delete this post altogether, and remove the evidence of my original mistake? Well, for many years I told my college students that the great power of science lies in its ability to correct itself as new knowledge come to light. And I think that should be true of science writing and public outreach in other forms, too. Besides, the process of being embarrassed publicly, and then owning up to one’s blunder publicly, is a good exercise for the soul.
Incidentally, Sam and I also have done the recoding session for Episode 4, on downtown Milwaukee’s magnificent Wisconsin Gas Building, with its 3.5-billion-year-old Morton Gneiss. It airs this Thursday January 9, and will be posted as a podcast at the link below soon thereafter.
You can’t talk about the geology of Milwaukee’s built environment without first mentioning its two locally produced materials: Wauwatosa Dolostone and Cream City Brick.
This past September, in the first segment of the new “What Milwaukee Is Made Of”series airing on WUWM’s Lake Effect program, producer Sam Woods and I discussed the city’s native rock type and its use in the landmark Pfister Hotel.
And just this past week, on October 23rd, the series’ second part, on the brick that lent its name to the Cream City, was featured on Lake Effect. This time around we chose to focus on a different type of structure in a distinctly dissimilar neighborhood—the 1875 J. L. Burnham Block, in heavily industrialized Walker’s Point. Why? Because the Burnham Block has the most direct connection with the city’s once-vast brickmaking industry. The building’s original owner, John Burnham, was a prominent member of a family renowned for its ownership of leading Cream City Brick production firms. In fact, his own claypits and kilns were situated just a few blocks northwest of this location.
Some of Milwaukee’s most famous Cream City Brick buildings have been restored to their original pristine, pale-yellow state. But others, like this site, still wear a considerable deposit of soot, mostly produced before the passage of the federal Clean Air Act (1970, with later provisions). In the course of our discussion of this grimy aspect of the city’s architectural history, I utter a shocking heresy that is bound to offend all true lovers of tidiness and good order. You are duly forewarned . . .
If you didn’t catch the original airing of this installment, with its heresy and all else, you can enjoy both it and the first episode it at your convenience. Simply click on this Milwaukee Public Radio link.
Detail of the upper facade (northern elevation) of the Burnham Block. Darkened considerably from its original pale-yellow tint by decades of accumulation of partially combusted hydrocarbons (here read soot), the building is an exemplar of the Gritty City look.
And don’t forget that the one best way to get a synoptic view of Milwaukee’s urban geology is get your own print or digital copy of Milwaukee in Stone and Clay. It’s available in your local bookstore and online, including at the publisher’s website.
In that regard, there was enough material for a discussion of many hours, let alone fifteen minutes. For example, there was the fact that Milwaukee County’s locally quarried bedrock formed when this area was located thirty degrees south of the equator. And there’s the interesting issue of the city’s famous cream brick and its weird geochemistry; and the point that we have skyscrapers clad in rock three-and-a-half billion years old, and others faced in ornamental terra-cotta made with ancient coal-swamp soil.
So, after the show, Sam and I started to explore the possibility of a continuing series. And ultimately we recorded a pilot program. A tentative series title, “What Milwaukee Is Made Of,” was assigned, and that first segment, on the famous Pfister Hotel and its Wauwatosa Dolostone exterior, aired on September 10th. And, since Milwaukee Public Radio does an excellent job of providing free podcasts online, the episode can now be found on our new series webpage. Check it out!
The southeastern corner of the Pfister Hotel. The Wauwatosa Dolostone we discussed is the large, rock-faced ashlar blocks with slightly buttery overtones.
Now that the first show has aired, we’re discussing how the format can be refined, and what to focus on next. Keep a lookout for the second installment this October. And in the meantime, don’t forget that you can easily obtain a print or digital copy of Milwaukee in Stone and Clay from your local bookstore or online, including directly from the publisher.
“Milwaukee in Stone and Clay is much more than a compendium of our buildings and their composition. This is a celebration of the material and the beauty that make up Milwaukee. Every reader will enjoy a greater understanding and appreciation of the structures that define our city. And yes, I wholeheartedly agree with the author that Milwaukee City Hall is the most marvelous city hall on the planet!” —Cavalier Johnson, Mayor of the City of Milwaukee
The July 2024 issue of MKE Lifestyle magazine is out, and it contains a “Fifteen Minutes With Ray Wiggers” interview on the subject of my newly released book, Milwaukee in Stone and Clay, and its subject matter.
The digital version of the issue may be found here. The interview starts on page 18. Also, take a look at the rest of this and other issues posted online. There are a lot of fascinating photo spreads and articles on the Cream City’s cultural and historical aspects, as well as quite a few features on Milwaukee’s natural setting and environmental-education resources.
My thanks go to MKE Lifestyle for taking an interest in MSC and the concept of architectural geology.
That said, as all persons in the world of words and printing know, errors can creep into an article with amazing ease. In this case, the caption of one interview-spread photo incorrectly identifies the red, Jacobsville-Sandstone-clad edifice shown as the Loyalty Building. Actually, it’s the Button Block, as is unequivocally stated in MSC. The caption also states that City Hall is made of both St. Louis Brick and Philadelphia Brick. Only the first of these is present, so far as I know. Please note that I am not responsible for these errors.
In book publishing, the author generally does the captions. But in popular-press periodicals, it’s usually a magazine staffer and not the person interviewed who writes them. And there’s usually no understanding that caption facts should be checked with the interviewee. Such was the case here.
But rest assured that the correct information is given in MSC itself. And a correction supposedly will be issued in the August issue of MKE Lifestyle.
In the meantime, I hope you enjoy the interview, which contains much more information that is, to the best of my knowledge, completely correct. And don’t forget to check out my page specifically dedicated to MSC. In my newly added “Item 4” section of that page, I go into the corrections in a little greater detail, and also discuss what I consider to be the most important section of the interview, which was, to my very great regret, edited out of the magazine section. Take a look!
Wild Geraniums (Geranium maculatum) in full flower by my door, a few days ago.
Just last week, after eight months of writing, writing, and more writing, I finished the manuscript for the third book in my Stone and Clay series. It covers the architectural geology of a huge area of northeastern Illinois—about 1,600 square miles—stretching from Homewood in the southern Chicagoland suburbs through the Lower Des Plaines Valley and western suburbs up to the North Shore, Waukegan, and Illinois Beach State Park. Now it’s off for peer review.
If you, too, are a book author, you’ll probably understand that finishing and submitting one’s latest manuscript can definitely produce a sort of post partem depression. But in this case, I was able avoid a fit of the hypos by turning immediately to a number of other projects that have long begged for my attention. So I haven’t had that miserable, what-do-I-do-next feeling this time around.
One of these projects is a major upgrade of this website. My main goal is to make it, among other things, a discussion forum and information supplement to my books. So you’ll find new pages for both Chicago in Stone and Clay and Milwaukee in Stone and Clay. Take a look, and keep in mind that I will be updating quite frequently from now on.
In addition, I’m also redoing my Lectures and Tours pages so potential hosts and participants will see what I’m offering that’s thematically linked to the Milwaukee and Chicago books.
Over the past couple of months, I’ve done a number of media events and interviews to celebrate the recent release of my new book, Milwaukee in Stone & Clay: A Guide to the Cream City’s Architectural Geology.
Two of these, including a slide show of some of my best geology and architecture photos, have been recorded and are currently available online:
– My photo-slide show of Milwaukee’s geology and architecture, co-hosted by Boswell Books and Historic Milwaukee, Inc. It has now been posted on YouTube. Here’s the link . Note: It will be available only until Friday 17 May 2024.
– My audio interview on the “Lake Effect” program of Milwaukee Public Radio has been posted as this podcast.
Give one or both a look or a listen if you’d like to learn more about the fascinating and often unexpected links between architecture and geology!
While its official publication date is still April 15, 2024, I’m delighted to report that Milwaukee in Stone and Clay: A Guide to the Cream City’s Architectural Geology is now “in the warehouse.” In other words, it’s been printed and delivered to the publisher. And it’s now being sent to customers who’ve pre-ordered it, and to bookstores and other outlets.
If you’d like to get a 30% discount on the book from the publisher, Cornell University Press, just drop me a line at rwgabbro1@gmail.com, and I’ll send you an author’s gift card that gives you a QR code that will enable the discount. Note: I can only do this for a short time, because I don’t want to discourage people from buying the book from the talk hosts cited below!
Also, just today (Tuesday, March 5, 2024) my interview about the book aired on WUWM, Milwaukee Public Radio. Here’s the podcast link.
Finally, I will be doing a virtual talk for Milwaukee’s Boswell Book Company in association with Historic Milwaukee, Inc., on May 10, 2024 at 2:00 pm Central Daylight Time. For more on that free event, and to register via Zoom link, go to my Upcoming Events page.
The GSIS, a member society of the American Geoscience Institute and an associated society of the Geological Society of America, is a nonprofit organization composed of science librarians, geoscientists, and other information professionals. One of its continuing and best-known roles is to recognize outstanding books and research papers in the Earth sciences.
I can’t begin to express how honored and uplifted I feel to be recognized by the GSIS selection committee, especially given how many new geology guides appear each year. When I was informed of my selection, the news didn’t just make my day—it made my year.
There’s no doubt about it. I consider this is one of the big achievements of my writing career. This award, along with the Chicago Reader‘s designation of CSC as one of “The Top Ten Chicago Books of 2022,” has given me all the rocket-fueled inspiration I need to carry the Stone and Clay series forward. The Milwaukee volume is due out early in 2024, and I’m now busy writing the third installment, on the Chicago suburbs.
(The awarding officers’ signatures on the certificate above have been typeset to protect their own identity information.)
Sometimes the extended process of writing a book and getting it published makes me feel as though I’m trapped in Zeno’s Achilles-and-the-Tortoise Paradox. However much progress is made, there always seems to be some distance, however miniscule, remaining between me and the goal of seeing the book hit print.
That said, the second volume in my Stone and Clay series is in fact now making its final approach to the finish line. (Forgive the mixed metaphor: I think I shifted within a single clause from an airplane to a racehorse. At any rate, the proofing and indexing of my flying equine has now been finished.)
As it so happens, I’m one of those authors who does my own indexing, and who actually enjoys the process, mostly. But now all that is done, and my Cream City tome is off to the printers. The expected release date? Late winter or early spring of 2024.
I thoroughly expect my publisher (the NIU imprint of Cornell University Press) to once again offer author-distributed discount cards and codes for purchase of Milwaukee in Stone and Clay. If you’d like to receive a sizeable deduction when you buy it from Cornell (probably 30%), drop me a line at rwgabbro1@gmail.com and I’ll make sure you get the card and code as soon as they’re available.
And, finally, I have been honored by NIU/CUP with a third Stone and Clay contract—this time, for a guide to the Chicago suburbs, which are a happy hunting ground for anyone interested in the geology of building stone and fired-clay materials. I hope to have that manuscript in for peer review at just about the same time the Milwaukee book becomes available.
