Archive for the ‘Albert Pissis’ Category

The mystery of the Gilded Age architect and his artist brother

June 18, 2011

The Pissis brothers worked together on the 1905 Sherith Israel Temple

Albert Pissis was one of San Francisco’s most respected architects from the Gilded Age to the post-fire building boom. To me, he is also one of the era’s more quietly fascinating figures in local architecture, described after his death as having been a man of “dominating will power,” “naturally reserved,” but frank in expressing his opinion, even to “the extent of criticizing his own work.”

Pissis was born in Guaymas, Mexico in 1852, but his family moved to the scrappy town of San Francisco when he was around six. He gradually rose from a designer of rather typical Victorian homes to become a force in local architectural circles. He helped bring a sense of order learned at the Ecole des Beaux-Arts in Paris at a time of architectural chaos in the young metropolis.

In addition to his work, including landmarks like the Flood Building and the Hibernia Bank, his client and personal relationships have intrigued me. But Pissis is hard to research. His office files burned in the 1906 earthquake and fire. The firm’s work post-fire was considerable but those records,  passed on after Pissis’ death in 1914 to his successor, Morris M. Bruce, cannot be found.

Pissis was the oldest of five children born to a French physician and his Mexican wife. One aspect of his life that is murky was his relationship with his brother Emile, who was two years younger. Emile also had a creative gene, and became an artist. But they rarely worked together, even in an era of growing appreciation for the arts and culture in a city that was keen on labeling itself as the Paris of the West.

While researching an article on Pissis and the Hibernia Bank for the San Francisco Historical Society’s journal, The Argonaut, I  began to wonder if Albert and Emile had a falling out later in life.

Albert Pissis circa 1880s, courtesy Alex Finn

The two must have been close, at least in their early years and part of their adult life. But even though Emile was a talented artist, it has struck me as odd that they worked on only a few known projects together: a home in Pacific Heights, and the temple for Congregation Sherith Israel on California and Webster streets, completed in 1905. Emile designed many of the art glass windows for the Byzantine-Romanesque temple. The windows are now more visible (see photos) as a result of a major renovation and seismic retrofit, which has also included removing the salmon colored paint and restoring the building’s Colusa sandstone exterior. The dome is next on the list for paint removal.

Historians only re-discovered Emile Pissis’ involvement in the temple several years ago, after finding a receipt for payment  to him for the art glass windows in the Sherith Israel archives. Emile is not mentioned in any newspaper articles at the time of the September, 1905 opening of the temple. Albert Pissis is cited as the architect, along with frescoes by artist Attilio Moretti. An excellent doctorate dissertation on Pissis and Arthur Brown, Jr. in 1986 by historian Christopher Nelson discusses Emile’s art glass windows.

Exterior view of art glass by Emile Pissis depicting Moses

Emile Pissis, the artist and agitator

Emile studied art in Paris, while Albert was studying architecture at the Ecole. Upon their return to San Francisco, Emile worked for about 16 years at various importing firms, as a clerk and then a bookkeeper, possibly through connections in the French community.  Based on listings in San Francisco City Directories, around 1888, Emile was able to stop working, perhaps aided with his share of his father’s estate, and focus on his art.

In 1890, Emile returned to Paris for a few more years. By January, 1894, he was back in San Francisco, and mentioned in The Morning Call as one of 10 local artists, including Arthur Mathews, who were contemplating sending their work to exhibit at the Midwinter Fair in Golden Gate Park. He was living in the family home, by then on California Street and listed as “artist” in the city directories. 

He also rented a studio downtown on Sutter Street for a couple of years, and played a vocal role in the goings-on at the San Francisco Art Association in its early days in the mansion built by railroad magnate Mark Hopkins. In 1893, Edward Searles, who had married Hopkins’ widow Mary, donated the Nob Hill manse after her death to the artists’ group. The sprawling Victorian was renamed the Mark Hopkins Institute of Art and a glowing article in The Argonaut in 1905 described it as “a permanent home of a most picturesque and beautiful character.”

The House Gallery, Mark Hopkins Institute of Art, The Argonaut, Jan. 9, 1905

Emile Pissis did not agree.  In an article in the San Francisco Call on February 15, 1895, he complained about the poor lighting in the dark hallway of the mansion, the exhibition space for the artists who were students at the Art Association’s California School of Design. Pissis said he had shown a large number of paintings in a previous exhibit but that they were “killed” by the shadows and he would not exhibit again.

An obituary in the San Francisco Examiner in 1934 stated that Emile Pissis did not sell a single painting and exhibited rarely. But his involvement in the early days of the art association shows that he was quite passionate about his profession and active in helping local artists get recognition, and make sales. He was also credited with coming up with ways to help foster sales of works of fellow students at exhibitions.  Another article in The Morning Call on an artists’ meeting at the institute, in which he grilled the director on whether any paintings sold at the last exhibit, labeled him “Pertinent Pissis.”

Despite Emile’s protests about the dark gallery space, he did show his work again. In 1896, he placed third behind local legends, Arthur Mathews and William Keith, first and second prize winners, respectively, in a contest commissioned by James Phelan for scenes from California’s history.

A Room of His Own

In what appears to be the last collaborative effort with his brother Albert, in 1895 Emile commissioned Pissis & Moore to design an apartment building on the corner of Pleasant and Taylor streets on Nob Hill. Their father Joseph had dabbled in real estate, and his sons inherited his aptitude. Emile’s art studio formed the penthouse of a building consisting of three flats, with its own separate entrance on Pleasant Street. The entire building cost $8669, according to California Architect & Building News in 1895.

Pissis must have been the envy of the San Francisco artist community. The Call  ran a piece on September 3, 1895 about his plans. “The real workroom will consist of a large apartment 18 feet high, with light from all four sides, the northern windows being the largest, however. All the light will be adjustable, and will come from windows situated near the ceiling,” the Call wrote. “The decorations have not yet been decided upon, but to artists, these are a minor detail. It is the excellent facilities which the studio will offer for working in all weathers that is making the owners of extemporized studios talk with just a tinge of envy when they chance to mention Emile Pissis’ name.”

Nob Hill building once owned by Emile Pissis, by Bakewell & Brown

Sadly, no drawings of the building Albert Pissis designed for his brother have been found. The building burned in 1906, along with most of Emile’s paintings at the time. During the city’s rebuilding, Emile enlisted the young firm of Bakewell & Brown, now known for their neo-Baroque splendor that is San Francisco City Hall. Their 1909 building stands today at the corner of Pleasant and Taylor. Emile lived the rest of his life at No. 18 Pleasant Street, with rentals providing him with a mostly steady income. This building also nearly burned down: in 1933 a fireman had to smash down two doors to rescue the elderly Pissis in his penthouse from a raging fire.

Why didn’t Albert design the second iteration of Emile’s apartment building and art studio? Perhaps he was too busy during the post-1906 building boom, where he played a major role designing many downtown business buildings and new stores for the city’s retailers like the White House. He perhaps recommended the young architect Arthur Brown, Jr.  if he had no time to help his brother.

18 Pleasant Street, where Emile Pissis lived

Le Mysterieux
 
But an interesting fact has emerged about Emile. He wrote many “Letters to the Editor” of The Argonaut, the weekly literary paper, under a pseudonym, Lemice Terrieux II, a play on le mysterieux, which means the mysterious one in French. The Argonaut wrote a brief obituary of Emile Pissis, in which the editors unveiled his true identity, and said he had been writing for the weekly for 40 years. But the first letters that could be found signed Lemice Terrieux II are from the late 1920s, in which he opined about everything from politics to Prohibition to the economy to the local art scene.
 
The most intriguing of his writings, however, is a series of articles he wrote on life in “Old California,” a charming series that also mentions many French pioneers, with the notable exception of anyone in the Pissis family, perhaps to keep his identity secret. In one amusing piece, he talks about how the alleys of Belden Street and Morton Street (now Maiden Lane) were also “dedicated to the cult of Venus.” 

“These were the educational grounds of the youths of those days, where they became sophisticated sexually,” wrote Lemice Terrieux II, on August, 3, 1929.

Another article on August 24, 1929 is even more interesting for what it says about Emile’s view of his brother’s contribution to San Francisco’s architecture. Looking back fondly on the old days, he cast a rather disparaging eye on some of his brother’s most important buildings, including the 1892 Hibernia Bank that propelled Albert’s career. Written near the end of the city’s Jazz Age skyscraper building boom, Emile blamed some of his brother’s works for ushering in a “Stone Age” of  granite buildings and ending the city’s quirky architectural mayhem in wood and iron.

Emile Pissis, from his obituary, San Francisco Examiner, June 11, 1934

“The erection of the Emporium, the Flood building, and the Hibernia bank, marked the end of the cast-iron architecture which had prevailed in San Francisco,” he wrote. “It was the beginning of the Stone Age in the city’s construction, of the skyscraper and the brick facades – it was the beginning of new San Francisco and the end of the old city, of its originality, of its charm.”  He went on, “The city of today is a diminutive New York, a dwarf Chicago – its redeeming features: its seven hills, its bay and its ocean cliffs and shore.”

Were these just the idealized reminiscences of an old man, or did Emile express them to his brother while he was alive? It is perhaps worth noting that when Albert Pissis died, he left his entire estate to his wife, Georgia Pissis, whom he married in 1905. His estate, estimated at around $500,000 in 1914, was large especially for an architect, and the Architect & Engineer said he was the city’s wealthiest architect.  Pissis, like his father, had also amassed local real estate holdings, stocks and bonds, and even had a chauffeur.

But neither of Albert Pissis’ three living siblings at the time of his death, Emile, his other brother Eugene, and Margaret Gallois, nor his sister’s children, were mentioned in his brief wills, one dated 1908 another dated 1911. Of course, it’s standard to leave an entire estate to one’s spouse. But the will’s complete omission of Albert’s younger artist brother and other family members, is still an interesting, if puzzling, fact. 

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Some good architecture reads for spring

May 4, 2011

Cover of John King's very portable book, "Cityscapes"

Let’s face it. You can’t really lug a serious book about architecture to the beach, or even on the bus. Typically they are either hefty, hardback tomes, made even heavier by glossy, full-color pages of photography of the work being discussed, or they can venture into dry, academic treatises that often aren’t really fun to read.

This spring, though, fans of architecture can find some good books on our city, including one that you can easily carry on local walking expeditions. San Francisco Chronicle architecture critic John King has just come out with a very readable and portable book, “Cityscapes” (Heydey, 111 pages, $14.95).

Chronicle readers will recognize the buildings here as having appeared in brief homage in King’s Sunday column, “Cityscape.” The book presents 50 San Francisco buildings in all-too-brief description, and excellent photos, all taken by King for his column, with input from his editors and photographers at the newspaper. King, a two-time finalist for the Pulitzer Prize in criticism, can write.  Readers who missed these columns will be engaged by his elegant prose; some may be flummoxed by a few of his unusual selections.

King knows that his choices may cause preservationists some pause. “This book makes no claim to be a definitive roster of San Francisco’s finest or most beloved works of architecture,” King writes in the introduction. “Instead, look on it as fifty facets of our urban scene: the charismatic stars and the background players; buildings defined by bold visual moves and buildings that offer tactile delight; the sort of structure you notice every time you pass by, and the sort that escapes notice until you catch it at a certain angle, in a certain light.”

That is probably my favorite aspect of this little book, which is also very affordable at $15. It captures buildings in a new light, and shares lovely aspects of some seemingly bland or unloved structures: the “pearly stucco” facade of the garage at 450 South Street, the “brooding grandeur of the rough concrete” of the brutalist Glen Park BART Station, the “clattering, metallic beast” that is the San Francisco Federal Building. Just last week I walked by the Flatiron Building in the morning sun and looked up at the  cornice and its “splashy parade of Gothic embroidery” which I hadn’t noticed in such detail before. One of my favorite city garages, George Applegarth’s circular Downtown Center Garage on Mason Street, is called an “unapologetic ode to automotive convenience” in a town where cars are scorned.

Kelham

Architect Timothy Pflueger’s work appears twice, with both the Telephone Building and Roosevelt Middle School gracing its pages. So does the work of his contemporary George Kelham, and many other local architects, both revered and not so well known. (My quibble is that Kelham’s Shell Building gets treatment as an icon over Pflueger’s earlier Telephone Building). Author Jacquie Proctor will be pleased to see that the subject of her most recent book, architect Harold Stoner, appears twice, including a nice shot of his Lakeside mini-tower, which King calls a “streamlined explanation point.”

Cityscapes gives local architecture fans new looks at both stalwarts and underappreciated structures. King has been on the lecture circuit around the city, and has an upcoming talk and book signing at the Mechanics’ Institute Library, that gem of an institution at 57 Post Street, designed by Albert Pissis. King will be at the Mechanics’ Institute on Thursday, May 19, at 6 pm. On Tuesday, May 31, he will be at SPUR, 654 Mission Street, at 6 pm.

"Port City" by Michael Corbett

Preservationists will love Port City.

The anticipated history of San Francisco’s port is finally available. Published this year by San Francisco Architectural Heritage, Port City, written by Michael R. Corbett, is a comprehensive history of the city’s waterfront and its buildings.  (San Francisco Architectural Heritage, 248 pages, $65 non-members, $52 members).
 
It’s a timely book, coming as it does ahead of the America’s Cup in 2013, and it includes a catalog of the port’s historic resources. As Heritage Executive Director Mike Buhler notes in the preservation group’s spring newsletter, “the race organizers are receiving development rights to a large swath of Port property in exchange for investing up to $80 million to ready some of its historic piers for the regatta.” Debates over the plans are sure to ensue, but at least Port City now provides a frame of historical reference.  Buhler cautions though that, “significant questions remain including how to pass rigorous state environmental review, and the scrutiny of diverse stakeholders, within such a compressed timeframe.”
 
The book by architectural historian Corbett evolved from the 500-page nomination and subsequent listing of the Port of San Francisco to the National Register of Historic Places. A 3-mile section of the most in tact, early 20th century finger-pier waterfront in the U.S.  was named a historic district in 2006. Architectural historians Marjorie Dobkin and William Kostura  worked with Corbett on the nomination. The book received funding from firms like Plant Construction, the city’s preservation fund committee, San Francisco Waterfront Partners and individuals.
 
Telling the long history of the evolution of the Port of San Francisco is no easy feat, spanning from 1848 to 2010 as the book does in 248 pages. The sometimes dry text is offset by vivid vintage and contemporary photography and large, full-color maps. From the early creation of the seawall, the arrival of the transcontinental railroad, the infamous labor disputes of the 1930s, to its irreversible decline after World War II and the triumphant reinvention of the Ferry Building, the port’s history is integral to the city’s.
 
This gorgeous coffee-table sized book also makes me want a new, updated edition of my dog-eared paperback of Splendid Survivors, the prior publishing venture in 1979 by Heritage, also written by Corbett. Just as Splendid Survivors is a  must-read for every student of the city’s architectural history, the even better-produced Port City will likely end up as another must-have. 
 
 

Hibernia Bank dome graffiti-free again!

April 2, 2010

Hibernia Bank on a rainy afternoon

The owners of the once-stately Hibernia Bank building in the heart of the Tenderloin were dismayed to see the granite base of the dome defaced with a massive graffiti tag just a few months ago. See a photo of the big tag here.

But the new owners, who, like the bank’s original founders, hale from the old sod of Ireland, moved quickly to get rid of the defacement. A police officer in the SFPD’s Graffiti Abatement Program said acting fast is key to prevent subsequent tagging.

Here is the cleaned up bank now, still boarded up while some construction and clearing is slowly being done. The oxidized copper dome still  dominates the corner, the gore where Jones, McAllister and Market streets meet.

The bank, designed by Albert Pissis and completed in 1892, is one of the most architecturally important buildings in our fair city. It was one of the earliest designs to bring the order of the Beaux-Arts style to an architecturally confused San Francisco. Its debut was also a year before the well-planned buildings of the World’s Columbian Exposition in Chicago in 1893 stunned American visitors with their neoclassic beauty. While the “White City” at the Chicago World’s Fair took the country by storm, it also — as architect Louis Sullivan accurately predicted — set the modern movement in architecture back a few decades.

The most “artistic building in San Francisco”

The Hibernia Bank, though, was so well-regarded in San Francisco that even the often cantankerous architect Willis Polk described it as “the most artistic building in San Francisco,” in an article for a society and literary journal, The Wave in October, 1892.

Here’s a hand-tinted postcard of the bank, mailed in 1912.

Hand-tinted postcard of Hibernia Bank, circa 1912

Just three months after praising the Hibernia Bank, Polk would pen another article in The Wave, describing the western section of the city as “an architectural nightmare conceived in a reign of terror and produced by the artistic anarchists who are continually seeking to do something great, without any previous experience or preparation for their work.”  His vitriol was accompanied by a photos of some of the most over-the-top, multi-turreted Queen Anne homes, and other sprawling manses, including a shot of the Cliff House, which he called a  “wooden birdcage.”  The caption reads, “San Francisco’s architectural monstrosities.”

Polk and Pissis might be rolling in their graves if they could see the Hibernia Bank today.  The once-elegant bank, built for the then-growing Irish savings bank, has been sitting shuttered for years. Its new owners, while they aren’t saying much about their plans, have a real appreciation for the building’s craftsmanship. The interior is said to be in pretty decent condition. But the project, in the current economy,  is clearly going to take awhile. The owners, Dolmen Property Group, snatched the building up in October 2008 for a bargain sum of about $3.9 million,according to the San Francisco Business Times.

Seamus Naughten, managing director of Dolmen Property Group, said the firm spent $20,000 to get rid of the horrendous tag, and the roof is now equipped with an alarm system. Beneath that cuppola is a stunning Tiffany-style art glass dome that was destroyed in the 1906 earthquake, but quickly rebuilt (the building survived). The dome was painstakingly restored again in 1983 by Reflection Studios of Emeryville.

Officer Christopher Putz of the SFPD said shuttered buildings are frequent targets for graffiti, and a tag on a historic building can represent huge problems for its owners, because it’s a difficult job to remove properly from certain older materials. “It’s just so expensive,” he said, adding that the offense for tagging historic buildings is almost always a felony, because of the high cost estimated to remove the graffiti.

Dolmen Property Group looks like they did an excellent job of getting rid of the blight from their building. We wait with baited breath to see what else is in store.

Housekeeping note

A housekeeping note: for those who might have tried to subscribe to the Timothy Pflueger Blog by email, the code I pasted in was not correct. Please try again to subscribe at the upper right hand corner of this blog, via email and you will get an alert the next time a new post appears. It should work now.

Deco the halls: SF skyscrapers jazz it up

December 24, 2009

Every December, when people are looking for ways to evoke that holiday spirit, many families pile up in cars and drive to their favorite Bay Area neighborhood, famous for over-the-top displays. 

Or they traipse to Union Square together, to check out the huge windows at Macy’s, Saks 5th Avenue, and Neiman Marcus, where some, like Carl Nolte of the San Francisco Chronicle, fondly remember the store when it was the City of Paris. 

So here is a novel idea if you are searching for some holiday glam, away from the crowds. Come to the Financial District, where many skyscrapers are decked out in their red and gold finest, and glimpse the city’s smorgasbord of architectural styles. 

Of course, here at the Timothy Pflueger blog, I am partial to the skyscrapers of the Jazz Age. But there is holiday spirit everywhere you turn.  Try and catch some of these decorations before they are put away in storage at the dawn of the new decade. 

Giant ornaments at plaza at 101 California

101 California Street 

A fun place to start, where many come to take photos, is the plaza in front of the tower simply known as 101 California

The plaza is currently dominated by giant red steel Christmas tree ornaments. You will feel like a Lilliputian next to these giants, which are nicely accented by an array of potted red Cyclamen. There are two big block of concrete steps in the plaza (like a ziggurat!) to relax or watch seagulls bathe in the nearby fountain. 

Giant ornaments hang from the ceiling of 101 California

Inside, the lobby of the cylindrical 48-story tower, completed in 1982 and designed by architects Philip Johnson and John Burgee, has more grandiose decor. Enormous ornaments hang from the ceiling. 

One Bush Plaza 

Continue down California, then turn left onto Battery Street, until you reach the corner of Battery and Bush, and cross the street to SOM’s Crown Zellerbach Building, the city’s first International style building. Completed in 1959, it is one of the finest examples of mid-century modern design in the city, inspired by Mies van der Rohe. 

SOM's Crown Zellerbach and its glass-enclosed Miesian lobby

One Sansome Street 

Walk down Bush Street one block. Turn left onto Sansome and cross the street. If you are walking during regular business hours, you can enter the courtyard that serves as the conservatory adjacent to the bland skyscraper at One Sansome Street. The conservatory is the former site of a bank designed by my favorite Beaux-Arts architect, Albert Pissis. 

Conservatory at One Sansome with Poinsettia tree

The lovely marble-enclosed conservatory was originally the Anglo and London Paris National Bank, which occupied the site from 1910-1981. 

Pissis, a San Francisco architect who was born in Mexico to a French father and a Mexican mother, grew up mostly in San Francisco, with an interlude at the Ecole des Beaux-Arts in Paris in the 1870s.
 
Pissis is known for his early embrace of the Neoclassic, as one can see from the preserved marble arches and ornate cornice. Some of his best-known buildings are the Hibernia Bank on Jones Street, the Flood Building on Market and Powell, and the former Emporium, now San Francisco Centre, just across Market Street from the Flood Building.

155 Sansome Street 

Turn around and continue on Sansome Street and head to the former Pacific Stock Exchange building at the corner of Sansome and Pine (an amusing footnote, in the financial pages of the Chronicle for years, a byline on the daily markets wrap-up story was Sansome Pine). 

155 Sansome Lobby (do not use without permission of Empire Group)

There is usually a friendly guard sitting at the information desk (except on Sundays) in the lobby of 155 Sansome Street, who won’t mind if you peak at the tree and the gorgeous lobby.

If you cannot get inside, you can also gaze at the streamlined design of Miller & Pflueger’s tower, completed in 1929 just after the great stock market crash. The massive sculptures that adorn both the facade of 155 Sansome and the Stock Exchange trading building on Pine were done by local artist Ralph Stackpole and you can see the influence of his friend, muralist Diego Rivera, who painted a stunning mural inside at the City Club, the former luncheon club for traders and brokers.

Inside, gold tones in the lobby compliment the brightly lit tree and shimmer in the reflection of the dark marble walls. The star-patterned ceiling was inspired by a Berlin nightclub. 

465 California Street 

Continue down Sansome until you hit California Street again, turn left, and look for the brightly colored columns of the Merchants Exchange Building, designed in 1904 by famed Chicago architect Daniel Burnham, with Willis Polk, one of the city’s more eccentric architects, best known for his daring design of the Hallidie Building at 130 Sutter and its innovative glass curtain wall. 

Merchants Exchange Building and its tarted up Ionic columns

Russ Building 

Continue along California Street and turn left onto Montgomery, you will see the heavy massing of the Russ Building at 235 Montgomery Street, which was for many years the tallest skyscraper in San Francisco, after its completion in 1927. 

Russ Building's Neogothic details with red holiday cheer

It stole the crown in height from Miller & Pflueger and Cantin’s Telephone Building. Its Neogothic detailing makes one think of a cathedral and the lobby is especially church-like, a veritable temple to finance. It was commissioned by two investment banking firms during the roaring 1920s stock market boom. 

After admiring how the terracotta facing and detailing is highlighted by the red holiday swags and greenery, continue down Montgomery Street, also known as Wall Street West (even though the Stock Exchange was located on Pine Street). 

Continue until you hit Sutter Street, and at Sutter and Montgomery, you will find the office building where Dashiell Hammett’s best known detective, Sam Spade, had his office. 

Sam Spade went through these doors

111 Sutter  

It has been calculated by Hammett fans, including Don Herron, the creator of the Dashiell Hammett walking tour, that Sam Spade, the detective in The Maltese Falcon, had his office in the Hunter-Dulin, completed in 1926 by New York architects Schultze & Weaver, known for their beloved Waldorf-Astoria Hotel.

While not Deco or Moderne in style, the Hunter-Dulin Building is reminiscent of a French chateau. Its unusual copper mansard roof can be seen as you hike up Sutter Street. Notice the ornament course at eye level and you will see a bird. A falcon perhaps? Well not likely, since the building was complete before the black bird’s infamous moments in literature.  But it’s fun to pretend. 

450 Sutter

Turn left at the Hunter-Dulin Building, and head up Sutter Street, just as Spade turned toward Kearny on the prowl for some tobacco. There is a slight incline and as you walk west, you can see the tower of 450 Sutter, its terracotta ornament recently cleaned and new windows installed.

The interior is like stepping into a temple of the Maya, with its stepped ceiling in the shape of a ziggurat. The gold and green holiday decorations contrast with the dark Levanto marble and echo the gold, bronze and silver tones of the extensive metal work, which evoke Mayan figures, in the stunning lobby.

450 Sutter's Maya lobby decorated with holiday greenery

Happy holidays to everyone. 


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