“Yesterday marked the 54th anniversary of the day when historic preservationist and photographer Richard Nickel went missing inside the partly demolished Chicago Stock Exchange designed by Adler & Sullivan. He had dedicated his life to salvaging and documenting Louis Sullivan’s work, senselessly torn down during the urban renewal period. Ironically he died almost 48 years to the day of Sullivan’s own death, which happens to be today. They are buried near each other in Chicago’s Graceland Cemetery. Their stories are forever intertwined.
“I don’t recall exactly when I first learned about Nickel, but it was at least 25 years ago. I do remember seeing They All Fall Down: The Richard Nickel Story, a play adapted from Richard Cahan’s biography of Nickel, performed by the Lookingglass Theatre Company at what is now the Ruth Page Center for the Arts in October of 2001. The late actor Larry Neumann, Jr. skillfully captured the sometimes contradictory nature of Nickel’s humanity. Shy, idealistic, passionate, assertive, and vulnerable, Nickel could also be self-defeating, uncompromising, and pessimistic. Yet he dedicated his life to both Sullivan and his own personal truth. Some of these personality traits are reminiscent of Sullivan himself, an idealist committed to developing a new style of American architecture who was also irascible and his own worst enemy.
“Sullivan wrote, ‘To understand ourselves well, we must arrive first at a simple basis: then build up from it.’ Philosopher Søren Kierkegaard believed that each individual must find their ‘personal truth’ to make life meaningful, and Nickel found just that as he organized his days and life around Sullivan’s architecture. After dedicating nearly a decade to this kind of work, Nickel had accepted his fate and wrote to his friend John Vinci in 1964: ‘Well, let me tell you I am on earth in [Sullivan’s] behalf, and I have only begun to fight.’ Today, Nickel has achieved mythic status, becoming a legend and a martyr in the name of Chicago’s then burgeoning historic preservationist movement. While some take issue with how he accomplished these goals, I am personally grateful for what he did. I find it difficult to even comprehend where we would be right now without Nickel and the potential gap in overall Adler & Sullivan scholarship.
“But at the same time, I ask myself, Nickel literally gave his life for the Chicago Stock Exchange, but to what end? The salvaged entryway arch outside the Art Institute is virtually ignored in the museum’s “back alley” of Columbus Drive, to quote the great Lynn Becker. While the Trading Room now faces threats of dismantlement, to possibly end up in storage forever like the limestone facade of the Albert W. Sullivan House at Southern Illinois University in Edwardsville. In case you didn’t know, the Art Institute of Chicago has expansion plans on the horizon, thanks to a $75 million gift from Aaron I. Fleischman and Lin Lougheed. The Trading Room and McKinlock Court are both in danger.
“The economy is falling apart (sorry, it’s true), and we’re supposed to believe money will magically appear out of the sky to disassemble, relocate, and reconstruct (for the second time) this magnificent piece of interior design? I am sorry but there is no guarantee that once the space is taken away, we will ever see it again. As part of my Master’s thesis in Museum Studies at the University of Manchester, I wrote about building reconstructions in museums, which referenced the Stock Exchange Trading Room. Nickel called it “a holy room.” Instead of taking isolated bits and pieces of ornament, John Vinci beautifully preserved and reconstructed the whole interior space to give context to Sullivan’s work as his friend intended before his death.
“I cannot believe the Art Institute is even considering relocating it. The room is significant not only to Chicago’s architectural history, but also the institution’s own history. We cannot take this space for granted; we must save it! But, of course, the Art Institute is responsible for failing to use the space effectively in terms of engagement. Instead of exhibiting Sullivan’s salvaged ornament or other architectural items from their archives for exhibits, I feel like it is mostly ignored, except for rental purposes. Architect Walter Netsch predicted in an interview with Betty J. Blum, “the Art Institute was happy because they have this money-making spot to rent and show off.”
“The Chicago Stock Exchange, one of the finest examples of the First Chicago School of Architecture, was fully rented and the center of a huge preservation battle but was still torn in down in 1972. It was replaced by 30 N. LaSalle, which now, ironically is on its way to becoming an official city landmark. Described as a work that was “an economical design for corporate interest,” there is, of course, a reason behind this proposed designation, as it will be eligible for tax abatements when the building is converted into residences. It’s just another sad chapter in the life and legacy of Richard Nickel. Although I have a feeling if he was still with us, Richard wouldn’t be surprised at this latest development. A year before his death, he wrote, “Ah, the world gets weaker and weaker, dumber and dumber. The good people get knocked off, the good buildings get smashed, the lofty values wither.” Call me a cynic, but I could not agree more as the city and its cultural institutions continue to fail us.” (Freundt, Architecture and History of Chicagoland, 4/14/26)
Read the full story at Architecture and History of Chicagoland