Louis, I Think This is the Start of a Beautiful Friendship

Occasionally, I will come across a scrap of information or a picture or an advertisement that is, when considered in a broader context, filled with significance.

In this case it was a "Notice;" an announcement that a firm was moving their office. It was printed in the Chicago Tribune on May 4, 1889 and positioned at the very bottom in the right hand column of the page. It could have easily been overlooked.



Dankmar Adler & Co. had done very well in the years preceding the Sullivan partnership, but when the engineer and the architect did finally meet, it was not only a great friendship but made architectural history. The first time they met, however, neither had an inkling of what the future would bring:

One day his old friend John Edelmann returned from Iowa, where he had had a spell of farming during the dull period, and found a position in the office of the firm of Burling & Adler. Louis met him in Kinsley's restaurant, where the draftsmen from various architects' offices habitually lunched and talked shop. Edelmann suggested that Louis go over to his office to meet Adler. This was the first meeting between Dankmar Adler and his future partner.


Edelmann and Sullivan "entered the large bare room, drawing tables scattered about it; in the center were two plain desks...both partners were present and busy. Burling was slouched in a swivel chair, his long legs covering the desk top; he wiggled a chewed cigar as he talked to a caller, and spat into a square box. He was an incredible, long and bulky nosed Yankee, perceptibly aging fast, and of manifestly weakening will one of the passing generation who had done a huge business after the fire but whom the panic had hit hard. . . . Further away stood Adler at a draftsman's table. . . . He was a heavy-set short-nosed Jew, well bearded, with a magnificent domed forehead which stopped suddenly at a solid mass of black hair. He was a picture of sturdy strength, physical and mental. . . . His broad, serious face, and kindly brown, efficient eyes joined in a rich smile of open welcome. It did not take many ticks of the clock to note that Adler's brain was intensely active and ambitious, his mind open, broad, receptive,
and of an unusually high order. . . . The talk was brief and lively; Adler said nice things, questioned Louis as to his stay at the Beaux Arts. The little talk ended, Louis left; John remained in his preserve. This was the last Louis saw of Adler for many moons. He was pleased to have met him and to have reason heartily to respect his vigorous personality. But he was no part of Louis' program, hence he soon faded from view, and became almost completely forgotten."

It was not until about a year later that the two men came together again. John Edelmann had in the meantime established a partnership with George H. Johnson, a pioneer in the use of tile for fire-proofing buildings, but he kept in touch with his former employers.

One day early in 1879 Edelmann sought Louis out to tell him that Adler had dissolved his partnership with Burling, and had set up independently. Adler had put through the important new Central Music Hall, then under construction, and had other jobs
in the office. Edelmann urged that this was Louis' opportunity. Adler, he knew, would welcome a competent designer.

"So they made a second call on Adler. There ensued a mutual sizing-up at close range, very friendly indeed. And it was then and there agreed that Louis was to take charge of Adler's office, was to have a free hand, and, if all went well for a period and they should get along well together, there was something tangible in
the background. Louis took hold and made things hum. Soon there came into the office three large orders; a six-story high grade office building the Borden Block; an up-to-date theatre, and a large substantial residence. Louis put through the work with the efficiency of combined Moses Woolson and Beaux Arts training. It was his first fine opportunity. He used it. He found in Adler a most congenial co-worker, open-minded, generous-minded, quick to perceive, thorough-going, warm in his enthusiasms, opening to Louis every opportunity to go ahead on his own responsibility,
posting him on matters of building technique of which he had a complete grasp, and all in all treating Louis as a prize pet. . . .

Thus they became warm, friends. Adler said one day 'How would you like to take me into partnership?' Louis laughed. 'A11 right' said Adler, 'draw up a contract for five years, beginning first of May. First year you one-third, after that even.' Louis drew up a brief memorandum on a sheet of office stationery, which Adler read over once and signed. On the first day of May, 1880, D. Adler and Co. moved into a fine suite of offices on the top floor of the Borden Block aforesaid. On the first day of May, 1881, the firm of Adler & Sullivan, Architects, had its name on the entrancedoor." Thus after architectural training and experience of nearly
nine years, Sullivan became at the age of twenty-four a full partner
in one of the important architectural firms of Chicago.

And, in 1889, the firm of Adler & Sullivan moved their office into what I believe to be their most important building - The Auditorium.


From:Louis Sullivan Prophet Of Modern Architecture by Hugh Morrison (1935)