METROLAND:The Alternative Newsweekly of New York's Capital Region Written by Ann Morrow • Photographed by Cassi Suen First published: Thursday, October 5, 2000

“Not everyone is excited by attics and basements, but I am,” says Elizabeth Griffin. “Sometimes we’re asked to go into buildings that no one has been in for a long time. To see original wallpaper from the 19th century, to see things the way they were left, not undone or redone, is exciting.”

Griffin, the executive director of Historic Albany Foundation, has a way of communicating that excitement, even while seated among abandoned mantelpieces and grounded chandeliers. According to the blonde historian, HAF’s quiet, dusty and antique-strewn downtown headquarters is where the action is. And judging from the foundation’s news coverage of late — including the last-minute, legal-eagle rescue of the façade of 41 Ten Broeck St. from a county wrecking ball—she might be right. “That’s a very emotional episode,” she says. “I was standing in front of the building as they were tearing it down; time was absolutely of the essence. But even without the emergency efforts, every day here is incredibly hectic and exciting.”

Any preconceptions of historic preservation as a hobby for silver-haired blue bloods with too much time and chintz on their hands is quickly dispelled as Griffin enumerates the hard facts of local preservation efforts. First of all, rescuing old buildings often requires a leap into the fray of local politics, as city and county governments don’t always recognize the importance of historic infrastructure. On top of that, it’s very big business. “I’m willing to guess that out of all the cities in the U.S. this size, there is more money being spent [here] on preservation per capita. What’s going on downtown is huge — St. Peter’s Church being done, the Cathedral of All Saints, the exterior of the State Ed building, the Capitol. . . .” 

These buildings alone represent millions of dollars of activity, not to mention the talent such activity attracts. “We have great preservation and architecture firms, a nationally renowned stained-glass window workshop, legal talent,” enthuses Griffin. “It’s a pretty important industry to the area.” The dynamic director is herself a part of that imported talent pool. A native of Taos, N.M., Griffin holds a degree in history from the University at Boulder and a graduate degree from the University at Albany. Her interest in preservation began with the purchase of a historic home in Center Square, but Griffin’s work with the foundation is inspired by a deeper interest than mere aesthetics: “My passion is the importance of buildings to a community, to a culture,” she says. “How people relate to the built environment and how the use of space changes over time.” 

It was Griffin’s sense of community that led her to apply for the director’s job with HAF, where she’s been leading the charge of preservation efforts for two and a half years. “I had a great interest in working with an organization that really listened to people and wanted to work with them on preservation issues,” she says. “If you go from neighborhood association to neighborhood association, you will find [endangered] buildings in every one, that people have been worried about for years but haven’t gotten the response they need to get something done. 

“My background is in social history and labor history,” Griffin continues. “And in labor history, you have a similar focus in terms of people’s relationship to their work and how that’s reflected in the built environment of factories, and later, of corporations. Architecture is a very public expression of art and culture, and as people live within it, it gives us a very necessary sense of time and place. It’s the glue that holds us together.”

Post-graduation, Griffin spent a year in Norway doing research, and has a necessarily European attitude toward old buildings—America’s disposable materialism being the enemy of preservation movements. “For example, one of the devastating effects of war is people seeing their built environment being literally blown away,” she says. “So not only do you have death, you have this incredible change in the environment, which is very difficult for people. After the war, in Europe, they tried to rebuild very similar to what they had lost—they tried to save the bricks, and the stones, that went into the buildings.”

Griffin gives some of the credit for her appreciation of built environments to her upbringing in Taos, which stands atop one of the oldest habitations in the hemisphere, and where her early years included a comprehensive education in the region’s ancient history and cultures. 

But scholarly erudition is one thing, and the thrill of watching a creaky old house being restored to its former glory is quite another. “What’s really exciting here is the architectural-parts warehouse,” she says. “Everyone who is working on an old house comes in here—it’s like a little hospital for buildings. Sometimes, if they need help, we go out there, and we get to the see the work in progress, which is wonderful.”