Poor Planning and Dubious Design Choices: “The Maxwell” Controversies Continue
Lexington is in the midst of a building frenzy, as de facto privatized dormitories continue to spring up all along the perimeter of the University of Kentucky. The recent rezoning of E. Maxwell and Stone Avenue notably permitted the construction of a 278-unit, 656-bed, 75-foot-high building (The Maxwell) that will replace twelve National Register-listed residences currently offering affordable housing. Troublingly, the owners of that property are now reneging on promised design features that helped secure the project’s approval. How is this permissible? And more generally, how do commissioners and staff monitor these sprawling complexes to ensure they cohere with their often-historic settings?
Despite significant opposition from neighborhood residents and the Blue Grass Trust for Historic Preservation, the Planning Commission in December 2023 sanctioned the rezoning largely based on a rendering of the building that Stavroff Land & Development of Dublin, Ohio, presented. Planning staff and Stavroff’s attorney lauded the “front porch feel” of the design that would integrate new construction with the historic neighborhood. Seven “townhomes” with entrances along Stone Avenue and usable balconies were stepped back from the main building mass to preserve the street’s scale. Plantings were included on the second-floor rooftops of these protruding segments, indicating a contribution to the area’s greenspace.
Following the rezoning, Stavroff was obliged to provide a final development plan that was in substantial conformity with the initial drawings. In recent months, however, their team has diluted the design and eliminated key architectural features that were intended to ensure its compatibility with the Aylesford neighborhood. During numerous committee meetings, they essentially admitted that the renderings were a fantasy. When those alluring visuals were circulated, no interior floor plans had even been created. After the rezoning was secured, it seems that Stavroff hired a wholly different architectural firm (Dallas-based Humphreys and Partners) to figure out the details. The result was a big-box dormitory that resembles the myriad other student housing complexes that Gilbane (the builder for The Maxwell) has erected throughout the country.
Although the renderings accompanying the preliminary development plan portrayed a dynamic façade with alternating cladding and brick veneer, the new architect opted for simpler paneling based on the assumption that this “modern” (i. e., cheaper) material would appeal to the student market. During its November 7 meeting, the Planning Commission’s Subdivision Committee rightly emphasized the fallacy of narrowly tailoring a building — which might stand for a century — to such a specific demographic. The early drawings also depicted a variety of window shapes and placement locations that added visual interest, but the latest draft replicates a single type with startling homogeneity. Moreover, Stavroff’s team failed to consider that the rerouting of lower Hagerman Court would necessitate the relocation of power lines to the west side of Stone Avenue. They are now claiming that the utility easement in this 20-foot-wide section “pinched” the design and compelled them to remove several porches and entries. As for the upper-story plantings, they apparently require excessive tending and would never have been feasible.
In subsequent meetings, members of the Planning Commission expressed disappointment with the progress of this project, which one might characterize as “one step forward, two steps back.” When the Commission’s sole architect voiced his displeasure with the updated plan, Stavroff’s attorney contended that this expert analysis — a key component of the review process — was subjective and overly detail-focused. Yet these frustrations also speak to a key procedural issue. What is to stop a developer from presenting a fanciful rendering in support of a zone change and mass demolition, only to return in a year and claim the design is unbuildable? Surely, the developer or Planning staff should have anticipated that moving power lines would have significant implications. Article 21, Section 6 of the Zoning Ordinance even stipulates that preliminary development plans should include “proposed and existing easements for utilities.” In this case, due diligence was sorely lacking and the basis for the rezoning itself may now be in doubt.
Obviously, there are ways to harmonize new construction with historic building stock in a way that ensures compatibility of scale and materials. The comprehensive plans also encourage a sensitivity to such concerns. These considerations are essential in a city like Lexington, where large portions of the historic core miraculously survive despite some unfortunate flirtations with Urban Renewal. One of Lexington’s principal assets is its unique built heritage; one can often associate structures with their architects on account of hallmark stylistic elements. Given this rich legacy, opening the floodgates for national firms to plop down mundane, lower-quality buildings without sensitivity to their siting or immediate context is hardly advisable. Lexington’s distinctiveness is something to celebrate and elevate, not eradicate.
