What is the Monadnock Building?
The Monadnock was commissioned by Peter and Shepherd Brooks, Boston real estate developers who had amassed their fortune in the shipping insurance business and had been investing in Chicago since 1863. The Brooks brothers had already commissioned Burnham & Root to build for them twice before — the Montauk Building (1882, demolished 1902) and the Rookery (1886), two of the defining buildings of the early Chicago School. For the Monadnock, they chose a site at the southern edge of the Loop that the Chicago building community considered a folly: nothing but "cheap one-story shacks, mere hovels" on the south side of the street, according to one architect of the day, who concluded that the developer's agent "was insane to build way out there on the ragged edge of the city."
The Brooks brothers' property manager in Chicago was Owen Aldis, one of the men Louis Sullivan credited with being "responsible for the modern office building." It was Aldis who managed the design process, and it was Aldis who delivered the client's brief to Root: no ornament. Peter Brooks wrote to Aldis in 1884 that his notion was "to have no projecting surfaces or indentations, but to have everything flush." The building should convey "the effect of solidity and strength, or a design that will produce that effect, rather than ornament for a notable appearance." Projections, Brooks argued, "mean dirt, nor do they add strength to the building."
Root, who was celebrated for his ornamental designs — the Rookery is one of the most richly decorated commercial buildings of the 19th century — initially resisted. Early sketches show Egyptian Revival ornament and lotus-blossom motifs. Aldis rejected them as too elaborate. Root tried again. Aldis rejected that too. Slowly, reluctantly, and then with increasing conviction, Root embraced the discipline of pure form. He found his inspiration in the Egyptian pylon — a form that conveyed mass and permanence without a single applied ornament. The Monadnock's gentle inward batter at the base and outward flare at the parapet are, as historian Donald Hoffman observed, very close to the bell-shaped column the ancient Egyptians had derived from the papyrus plant. Root called the building, with fond exasperation, his "Jumbo."
Facts panel
Sixteen-storey office building at 53 West Jackson Boulevard, South Loop, Chicago, Illinois. Built in two phases: north half 1889–91; south half 1892–93.
- North half architects: Burnham & Root (Daniel H. Burnham and John Wellborn Root)
- South half architects: Holabird & Roche (William Holabird and Martin Roche)
- Builder: George A. Fuller Company (both phases)
- Client: Peter and Shepherd Brooks; property managed by Owen F. Aldis
- North half completed: 1891
- South half completed: 1893
- Address: 53 West Jackson Boulevard, South Loop, Chicago, IL 60604
- Height: 215 feet (66 metres)
- Floors: 16
- Original section names: Monadnock and Kearsarge (north); Katahdin and Wachusett (south) — all named after New England mountains
- North half structure: Load-bearing masonry; brick walls 6 feet thick at base, 18 inches at top; the tallest load-bearing masonry building ever constructed
- South half structure: Steel skeleton frame; brick-and-terracotta curtain wall
- Key architectural features: Plain unornamented north façade; projecting oriel windows; slight inward batter at base flaring to parapet; first portal system of wind bracing in the United States; first structural use of aluminium in a building (ornamental staircases)
- Total cost: $2.5 million (1893)
- Combined original occupancy: 1,200 rooms; over 6,000 occupants
- Designations: Chicago Architectural Landmark (one of the first, 1958); National Register of Historic Places (1970); National Historic Landmark — Printing House Row District (1976)
- Restoration: 1979–92 by William S. Donnell; National Trust for Historic Preservation Award (1987)
- Current use: Fully occupied office building; approximately 300 suites; ground-floor retail and dining
- Current status (March 2026): Active; fully operational; ground-floor shops include Optimo Hats, Intelligentsia Coffee, and other businesses in the tradition of 19th-century occupants
Architect: Burnham & Root, and Holabird & Roche
Daniel H. Burnham (1846–1912) and John Wellborn Root (1850–1891) met as young draftsmen in the Chicago firm of Carter, Drake, and Wight in 1872 and established Burnham & Root the following year. Their partnership was complementary in the most precise sense: Burnham ran the business, managed clients, and organised the office; Root designed. Root had formal architectural training — he had studied in England before the Civil War and worked in New York after it — and combined extraordinary facility as a draughtsman with a restless, inventive architectural intelligence that made him the most creative designer of the early Chicago School. His death from pneumonia in January 1891, aged 41, while the north half of the Monadnock was just coming out of the ground, was one of the great losses in American architectural history.
For Burnham's full career — the World's Columbian Exposition, the Plan of Chicago, the Reliance Building, and the Flatiron — see our Daniel Burnham architect guide.
Holabird & Roche — William Holabird (1854–1923) and Martin Roche (1853–1927) — had trained together in the office of William LeBaron Jenney, the engineer-architect who had introduced the iron-framed construction technique that would become the steel-frame skyscraper. They formed their own firm in 1881, and by 1893 were the acknowledged leaders of the Chicago School in commercial practice. Their south half of the Monadnock demonstrates precisely what steel-frame construction made possible: thinner walls, more glass, lower cost, and more rentable space — 15 percent cheaper, 15 percent lighter, and 15 percent more commercially efficient than the north half that preceded it.
Architectural character: the north half
The north half of the Monadnock is the building that matters in architectural history, and it repays very close looking.
The façade is purple-brown brick — a warm, reddish-dark tone Root chose for its depth and its ability to read as a unified mass from a distance. There is no applied ornament of any kind. The surface is unbroken except by the projecting oriel windows — continuous vertical bays that rise the full height of the building, catching and modulating light as they go — and by the subtle geometry of the wall itself: the slight inward batter at the base, the outward flare at the parapet, the smooth transition between them. These curves are so gentle that most people do not consciously register them; they simply feel the building as more alive, more organic, than its apparent simplicity would suggest.
The walls at the base are six feet thick — a fact that becomes physically present when you step through one of the Dearborn Street entrances, passing through a depth of masonry that feels more like a gatehouse than a doorway. The massive granite surrounds of the entrances, cleared to their original appearance in the restoration, frame this threshold with appropriate gravity. Inside, the long corridor — skylit from above, lined with mosaic floors and marble wainscoting — runs the length of the building, with the aluminium staircases (the first structural use of the metal in any building) rising at intervals.
The oriel windows were a concession by Peter Brooks to his property manager Aldis, who argued correctly that they would increase rentable space. Brooks had wanted everything flush. Root used them brilliantly: by making them continuous and unadorned, he turned them from a commercial necessity into the building's primary formal device — the element that gives the vast brick wall its vertical emphasis and its rhythmic life.