When we decided to profile a custom builder doing outstanding work in historic restoration, it was not difficult to locate our subject. We looked where the old houses are, zeroing in on Charleston, S.C., which bears as rich a lode of notable 18th- and 19th-century homes as any city in the country. And you can’t poke around the old-house business in Charleston for long before bumping into Richard Marks. It was Richard Marks Restorations that the National Trust for Historic Preservation hired for delicate repairs at Drayton Hall, a 1730s Georgian-Paladian plantation home that is among the earliest preserved examples of its type. It was Marks who restored the oldest surviving church in the state, the 1715 St. James Goose Creek Church, and a British colonial powder magazine of such historical interest that the keeper of the Tower of London flew in to consult on the project.
For Charleston’s many fine historic homes, Marks serves as the construction equivalent of genealogist, reconstructive surgeon, and guardian angel.
The work chose him at an early age. “I grew up in Charlottesville, Va.,” Marks says, “and Thomas Jefferson was always an inspiration to me.” The statesman-architect’s home at Monticello and his iconic University of Virginia campus sparked a devotion to the old ways of building that became not only a career, but also, he says, “my obsession and my hobby.” Marks studied architecture at Clemson University, but the past had won his heart. “I knew I wouldn’t be out there designing rotundas, designing little Pantheons,” he says. No matter. By the time he graduated in 1985 with a degree in construction management, Marks owned a general contractor’s license, had already helped his father restore three old Charleston houses (the family moved to the city in 1972), and knew his calling. “I thought it was pretty noble to preserve these buildings and extend their life.”
For a builder with that mission, Charleston was made to order. Up until the Civil War this port city was one of the richest in the United States, and its residential streets are lined with gems of antebellum architecture. But in the lean years that followed the war, stretching well into the next century, “there wasn’t much done to these buildings,” Marks explains, “just due to lack of money.” The result is a time capsule of sorts. When Marks founded his business in 1985, that trove of neglected stock and a surge of interest in old buildings allowed him to focus exclusively on the restoration market. It was tough sledding at first, but as the city’s fortunes revived in the 1980s and 1990s, the strategy paid off. “The average contractor may do 10 projects a year, and eight will be new and only two will be old. We’ll do 10 that are old. It really helped the learning curve.”
That puts it mildly. In addition to the standard custom building trades, the company has acquired expertise in masonry, masonry restoration, and decorative plaster. Its woodshop is fully versed in both Old World technique and high technology. “We’ll use molding planes and modern woodworking equipment,” Marks says. “We are the transition from the 18th and 19th century into the 21st century.” In reproducing ornamental trim, “If we need to carve it, we’ll carve it, but we can cast it too, so we can be economical.” During the 1990s, Marks did graduate work in architectural conservation at the University of Pennsylvania, which explains the chemistry lab in his shop. “I learned a tremendous amount about the science of preservation and met some key people in the field.”
Marks calls on these impressive capabilities to offer a remarkably comprehensive set of services. In the ideal scenario—with a motivated client and sufficient funds—the process begins with a full historical structural analysis, which ties the chain of ownership to modifications made to the building over the years. “You’re doing research and you’re doing physical investigation into the building: ‘This doorway was original, but this door was added in 1810.’We’ll do paint analysis, mortar analysis. If Miss Smith lived here in the 1850s, what were her paint colors? The whole story.”
The history uncovered can be its own reward. “Some people really get swept up in the evidence that you’re finding,” Marks says. But often the findings serve also as a guide to subsequent stages of work. If Miss Smith in the 1850s had faux finishes on her walls that were later painted over, Marks can line up top-flight decorative painters to reproduce them. A current project turned up fragments of hand-painted Delft tiles that had been bricked over when the fireplaces they lined were converted to coal-burning. Marks is now in contact with Belgian manufacturers, “to see if we can get these things reproduced.” Due to the city’s maritime and colonial history, many of the manufactured items in Charleston’s historic houses originated in England—a good thing from Marks’s perspective. “Stuff that was made 200 years ago you can still get in England.”
Still, people want to live in these houses today, so Marks must balance high-fidelity restoration with contemporary expectations of comfort and convenience. “Without exception, putting new systems into buildings is universal,” he says. But there are more ways than one to skin that cat. In the classic “Charleston Single House,” a one-room-deep, center-hall building set sideways to the street, cooking was originally relegated to a separate “kitchen house” at the rear. When indoor plumbing arrived, kitchens and baths were often installed in the main house, cluttering the original spaces. Marks often moves these functions to a revived kitchen house, which he connects to the main building. To restore rooms to their pristine, closet-free state, the company’s shop can build reproduction wardrobe cabinets or chifforobes.
Shadowing Marks’ every step are the craftsmen—African slaves, indentured tradesmen, master builders—whose work it is his work to preserve. “The story of the people who did the work is always fascinating,” Marks says. Their tools were simple but their methods of building were highly refined. “These people were incredibly skilled. The buildings that I work on were built to last, and they do last.” And their lessons are not lost on this latter-day apprentice. For functional as well as historical reasons, Marks says, “We really tend to use traditional materials that are time proven.”
None of this is cheap, Marks admits. “The cost of renovating can far exceed the cost of building a new home.” And treating a building as a historic artifact rules out a world of quicker, cheaper solutions. To avoid compromising his own standards, Marks says, “We have to work with people who are committed to doing it right, and to paring back the scope if they can’t afford the whole enchilada.” But even for truly devoted owners, the process can be an eye-opener. “I tell people, this is a huge piece of furniture, with thousands of parts.” When they grasp the fact that every brick and every nail in their house was made by hand, “they start to realize how important it is and how irreplaceable it is.” That is, they start to think like Richard Marks.
