You know Marcus T. Reynolds. You love Marcus T. Reynolds. In the history of Albany architects, Marcus T. Reynolds is ubiquitous.

And, chances are, you have no idea who he is.

The man behind the Delaware and Hudson Railroad building, Albany Academy and that gabled, quirky, Dutch-style firehouse on Delaware Ave — that is so cool, you've said to yourself the 1,000 times you've walked or driven past it — did more to mold the city than arguably any other architect.

His structures are grand and bold and laced with decorative details, but they never go overboard into filigreed excess. They have a sturdiness, a blunt utilitarian majesty, that proclaims "THIS IS A BUILDING" with throaty authority. That's why they remain such fixtures in the workaday life of Albany, places where people trundle in and out and around them, going about their business, ignoring them in a rush.

"I suspect if you stopped almost anyone on the street and asked about Marcus Reynolds, you'd get a blank stare," said Tony Esposito. "It's almost 100 years later, and you take these buildings for granted — because you've seen them for so long ... and you just don't think about who designed it and when."

Esposito is president of the board of trustees for Albany Rural Cemetery, where Reynolds is buried. There he lives on in his monuments for Andrew Hamilton, Erastus Dow Palmer and others; in his Linden Cottage at the South Gate; and in the Reynolds House, a solid, charming 1899 American-Italian rustic villa that's been sitting dormant for more than half a century and is now in dire need of rehabbing.

Marcus T. Reynolds, the man behind the Delaware and Hudson Railroad building, Albany Academy and that gabled, quirky, Dutch-style firehouse on Delaware Ave — that is so cool, you've said to yourself the 1,000 times you've walked or driven past it — did more to mold the city than arguably any other architect.

Posted by Albany Times Union on Friday, October 5, 2018

In an effort to rescue the structure and transform it into a multi-function space, Albany Rural Cemetery is kick-starting a capital campaign with a Garden Party from 1 to 4 p.m. on Sunday. The honoree: Marcus T. Reynolds.

Born in Great Barrington, Massachusetts, and raised in Albany by an aunt after his mother's death, Reynolds spent some time at Albany Academy — at its original spot across from City Hall — and later attended Williams College and Columbia University. After a transformative trip to Europe in 1894, he came back and changed the face of city.

"Back in the 1900s, he did so many buildings in the city, and so many out here, that he almost created the city line of Albany," Esposito said. "It's just amazing how much he did." Despite the house's disarray, it's structurally sound — "because the roof was so well constructed, and it's intact," he said. So no water damage — once again, that Reynolds sturdiness.

His first signed work, the house was also one of Reynolds' first residential designs — originally built for the superintendent at the time, James A. Burns. "His predecessor would take the trolley from Lark Street to the cemetery," said Paula Lemire, historian for Albany Rural Cemetery. "The house was built so the new superintendent would have a house on the site."

At the party on Sunday, activities and attractions will include lunch, talks, exhibits, costumed greeters and a wagon once used to bring coffins (including, probably, Chester A. Arthur's) from the long-gone cemetery rail station. House tours are also being offered, giving attendees a peek into a fine old manse praised by the Times Union — on Aug. 8, 1899 — for its "many cosey corners," "fair proportions" and "handsome design.

It added: "As the drawings call for a remarkably pretty house, the edifice will be one of the adornments of the beautiful city of the dead."

The buildings

Some of Marcus T. Reynolds' work is lost to the mists of time and urban planning: In the early 1970s, the Pruyn Free Library on North Pearl and Clinton was razed to make room for the I-787 ramp.

But much of it remains firmly in place: In Saratoga Springs, the Gideon Putnam Hotel. In Catskill, the Catskill Savings Bank (now the Bank of Greene County). And in Albany, a wide array of Reynolds buildings that run from downtown banks to uptown schools and embody his built-to-last aesthetic. There's the neo-Georgian Albany Academy building (1928-31), its cupola topped with a fish-and-pumpkin weather vane. There's the thickly columned Hackett Middle School, a brawny presence with broad staircases.

The most celebrated and sprawling of the lot is the turreted, six-sectioned D&H building (1914), its back to the Hudson and its arms reaching out as if to embrace the bustle of State Street and Broadway. Now the SUNY administration building, the structure has a Gothic stateliness with nods to Henry Hudson; perched up top is a massive Half Moon weather vane.

Across the street from the D&H stands the First Trust Company Building (1904), now headquarters for the SUNY Research Foundation. Shaped like a chubby variation on the Flatiron Building in Manhattan, it sports a mix of brickwork and terra cotta ornaments. Up the hill, on the corner of State and Pearl, stands the Albany City Savings Institution (1901-1902), its front covered in scaffolding. But look at that old brass sign out front advertising safe-deposit boxes in a loopy, swoopy script. Inside is the State Room wedding venue, its ballroom soaring and posh.

Over at Broadway and Columbia Street, the United Traction Company Building (1899-1900) looms with its muscular marble frontage, its columns and curved window bars: Like so much of Reynolds' work, it's robust and lightly embellished, its clusters of leaves and other decorative flourishes ornamenting a stout-looking beast that's now called the Pieter Schuyler Building and houses law offices.

Heading up to Center Square, the Van Rensselaer House (1896-1897) on State and Willett streets marks the architect's first major work after returning from Europe. Thickset, charming and adorned with terra cotta fish scales, it was designed around the same time as the Reynolds House at Albany Rural Cemetery.

A mile and a half to the southwest is Hook and Ladder No. 4 (1910), that Dutch Colonial Revival firehouse on Delaware Avenue that you've gone past 1,000 times — but you've probably never paused to look at those faces adorning the arches. Get close, look up, and you'll see them: four mustachioed Dutchmen in floppy hats, staring out at the 21st century with knowing, tired eyes.

abiancolli@timesunion.com • 518-454-5439 • @AmyBiancolli

