John Nottingham, left, and John Spirk think the architecture of Cleveland's First Church of Christ Scientist will spark creativity in their industrial design firm when it moves into the renovated structure next year.
Church's transformation into business offers answer to many people's prayers
Buildings, like people, can change careers. A factory can become an office building, an office can become a hotel, a movie palace can become a Broadway–style theater.
Rarely, however, does a landmark church become a place for high–tech business.
But that's exactly what's happening to the First Church of Christ Scientist on Overlook Road in Cleveland. Since it was built in 1931, the church has been a beacon of religious inspiration. Perched atop an escarpment overlooking Little Italy on Cleveland's East Side, it's one of the most visible and beautiful landmarks in the city.
Now, under one of the most unusual renovation proposals in Cleveland history, the church will become an incubator for new, mass–market consumer products.
Nottingham•Spirk Design Associates Inc., a Cleveland industrial–design company, bought the building and nearly five acres of land from the church's congregation for $1.6 million last year. With asbestos now removed, the company will soon launch a yearlong, $8 million renovation.
By next year, the building will become the Nottingham#8226;Spirk Innovation Center, an office and prototyping workshop for 50 designers, engineers and salesmen.
The hope is that the church's soaring architecture will foster creativity and help the company design and market new products, win new patents, spin off new companies and give Nottingham•Spirk room to grow.
Widely known products already designed by the company include a popular line of toy cars for Little Tikes Co.; the SpinBrush, which the partners sold to Procter & Gamble Co.; wheelchairs for Invacare Corp.; and Dirt Devil vacuum cleaners for Royal Appliance Manufacturing Co. The partners want to build on that history in the one–time church.
"Everybody talks about innovation," said John Nottingham, 53, the company's co–founder, as he stood in the sanctuary this summer. "We're going to live it in an inspirational setting."
"You can't help but walk in here and say, ‘I want to create something new.’ "
Finding the building was literally a godsend for Nottingham and his partner, John Spirk, 54. For several years, they had wanted to consolidate 50 employees now split among two locations, a converted mansion on Juniper Road in University Circle and rented space in the Cleveland Institute of Art&s McCullough Center at 11610 Euclid Ave.
Together, Nottingham and Spirk searched the city and found nothing. They even considered moving to the suburbs. That was a scary thought for the partners, because they recruit interns and designers from the art institute, their alma mater, and from Case Western Reserve University. They believe there's enormous business value in staying close to University Circle.
"We looked at Solon, we looked in Mentor, we looked in Midtown, but we couldn't find anything we liked," Nottingham said.
Then, through an official at Case, the partners first learned that the big church up on the hill above Little Italy was available.
On their first tour of the building, they fell in love with its architecture.
Designed by Walker and Weeks, the leading Cleveland architecture firm of the 1920s and '30s, the church has a facade like a Roman temple and a 155–foot–high bell tower that conceals the chimney from an old coal furnace. When it's lighted at night, the tower resembles a torchiere rising high into the sky.
The octagonal structure was originally designed for the present site of Severance Hall, home of the Cleveland Orchestra, a building whose shape is strikingly similar to that of the church.
But Nottingham and Spirk were equally enthralled by what they found inside. They thought the big, circular sanctuary, with a high, domed ceiling and pews for 1,250 congregants, could easily be converted to hold work stations for product designers.
The balcony above had plenty of space where the partners could house small, start–up companies to market new products created by the designers. A choir loft on the balcony looked perfect for audio–visual presentations. The church's Sunday school, two levels beneath the sanctuary, had plenty of space where engineers could create prototypes.
Finally, a pair of rooms just off the main sanctuary could be used for focus groups.
“Talk about the creative cycle,” Nottingham said. “We can create a mockup in the morning and test it with consumers in the evening.”
While they convert the church to its new use, the partners also want to treat the building with a very light hand. The renovation planned by Cleveland architect Paul Volpe will restore everything from chandeliers and Ionic columns to the big pipe organ in the sanctuary.
The only big change in the sanctuary will be that workers will flatten the floor, which is raked to provide sight lines for congregants during worship services.
On the south side of the building, in a spot partially hidden from Overlook Road, Nottingham and Spirk will build a small workshop for prototype fabrication, which will be linked to the church by a glass connector, making it visually separate.
“We are really sensitive to the historic fabric of the building. It's a Walker and Weeks masterpiece, and we want to embrace that.”
That's smart historically and financially. Earlier this year, the partners had the building listed on the National Register of Historic Places. This could help them win roughly $1 million in tax credits – if the renovation passes muster with the Ohio Historic Preservation Office in Columbus and with the National Park Service, which administers the tax–credit program nationally. The project will go ahead with or without the credits, Nottingham said.
So far, state officials are mum on whether they'll recommend the tax credits, a neutral stance they maintain whenever they're evaluating a design. But the Cleveland City Planning Commission approved the plan in July, and City Planning Director Chris Ronayne is ecstatic about it.
"The renovation potential is outstanding," he said. "The re–use for a productive business expansion in Cleveland is really what we hope for."
Members of the First Church of Christ Scientist are also happy. With a congregation smaller today than the membership for which the building was designed, they decided several years ago to sell the church and worship at a sister church in Cleveland Heights.
They also realized they had a huge challenge on their hands; if they sold the old First Church to a developer who tore it down, it could have tarnished the image of their faith in Cleveland. They were determined not to let that happen.
But after trying to interest nearly half a dozen developers, several of whom spoke about demolition, they didn't have a single offer they felt they could accept, until Nottingham and Spirk came along.
"No one could have imagined a group like Nottingham•Spirk from a marketing standpoint," said Dan Austin, chairman of the church. "It was very, very unusual."
The tale of the church on the heights is happier than that of the Fifth Church of Christ Scientist, built in 1928 on the far western edge of the city, at West 117th Street and Lake Avenue.
That church, vacant since 1989, was threatened with demolition in 1995. City officials have tried unsuccessfully since then to find a new use for it.
Last year, the church was given to Cleveland by the Giant Eagle supermarket chain, which owned it. Now the city hopes a local developer will restore the building, convert it into a bookstore and build new townhouses and a parking garage next door.
That deal has not been finalized, Ronayne said. But if it is, Cleveland could soon be bracketed, east and west, by beautiful Christian Science churches that have embarked on entirely new careers.
To reach this Plain Dealer reporter:
slitt@plaind.com, 216-999-4136
