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Sometimes you don't consciously notice a town's architecture, it just lives inside you. When you're young and bored — maybe especially without access to smartphones — there isn't much to look at
but the built spaces around you. You can absorb a place by osmosis just by jogging down cracked sidewalks on warm summer nights.
Growing up in Missoula, I absorbed the architecture by scraping my knees on the pavement and following irrigation ditches through quiet neighborhoods. By walking to the UC Center just to buy Now and Laters and looking up at the clock tower when the low bonging of the bell echoed across the campus. And by kicking gravel at the stoops of gorgeous old brick apartments while imagining my future self standing inside its high-ceilinged living room looking out through the bay window at the rest of the world.
Sloped rooftops, cornices, ranch-style balconies, neon signs hanging precariously in alleys — all of it crept in through my periphery to form the landscape of my restless coming of age. You live long enough in a place and it claims you like that: shaping your desires and keeping a ledger — for better or worse — of every stupid, magnificent, brave and embarrassing thing you ever did.
As a teenager, I'd walk to the Crystal Theater, where Gild Brewing is now, and watch films — slowburn arthouse, foreign and classic films — with settings in Parisian cafés and Andalusian courtyards and characters who threw dinner parties in London flats or wrote plays in the East Village. Those historic brick apartments I saw here in Missoula had the same romantic appeal. They weren't even bougie places, just places with enough poetry to their structure you could imagine your most contented self inside them.
It wasn't until years later, after living in Chicago and San Francisco and then moving back to Missoula, that I stopped passively absorbing the architecture that shaped me and started deliberately learning about its history — in particular, about Missoula's most famous architect, A.J. Gibson.
You, on the other hand, don't need to take the same route since you have the opportunity to go on the A.J. Gibson Historic Architecture Tour, a guided bike ride co-hosted by Missoula Architecture + Design and Free Cycles that traces the city's history through the buildings and neighborhoods Gibson designed and influenced.
Gibson wasn't formally trained in architecture, by the way. He was a carpenter who learned how to be an architect on the job while working in Butte before moving to Missoula in 1887.
Over the years he ended up designing public, residential, and commercial buildings across the valley, from modest bungalows to Queen Anne-style follies to Spanish mission-style dwellings with arched colonnades and twisted, barley-sugar columns.
I'm no architecture expert, but Hipólito Rafael Chacón, the director of the Montana Museum of Art and Culture and a professor of art history and criticism at UM, once told me that Gibson was a "revivalist" in that his architecture echoed the styles of previous architects. But Gibson also stayed on top of architectural trends, Chacón noted, while also being deeply pragmatic about the people who would occupy his spaces.
Many of those brick apartment buildings I love are his. They reflect a Missoula that was expanding rapidly at the turn of the 20th century — much like it is now. Some are elegant multifamily dwellings and others are smaller dwellings built for university faculty and staff. You can see similar styles in Chicago, like the stacked, two-family brick residences called the "two-flat," built in the same era as affordable but handsome immigrant housing, and which were, in turn, a nod to the Georgian and Victorian row houses of Britain and the masonry walk-ups of continental Europe. The idea was simple but pretty radical: density could be dignified. Working people could live in close quarters without giving up pride of place.
Which is what Gibson believed, too. He thought sunlight, good craftsmanship and design should be for everyone. I found that out about him after I eventually, as a full-grown adult, moved into one of the brick Gibson-era beauties I had coveted my whole damn life. It has built-in shelves and wood floors bathed in prismatic sunlight from the leaded-glass window. It also has ceilings that crack from water damage and weird DIY wiring from years of being carelessly maintained by cheap landlords. And I do love it, but its history as an elegant example of craftsmanship scaled for middle class affordability feels ironic now — I can barely afford it.
I don't know much more about Gibson's architectural philosophy, but my curiosity led me down some rabbit holes to see what other people have said about how architecture affects our lives. Architectural critic Ada Louise Huxtable has written beautifully about how everyday architecture shapes our identity and moral values. Urban historian Lewis Mumford saw architecture and urban design as "the container of civilization." Design theorist Christopher Alexander argued that design patterns — a street corner, a stairwell, a row of apartments — can nurture community, connection, and belonging.
I wonder if you'll notice those sentiments in Gibson's designs — or at least the ones that he had creative say over. It'll be a fascinating three-mile ride from the Oval on UM's campus to the Missoula Art Museum, with seven historic stops each with a story of design, community and local heritage. Bring your own bike.
—Erika Fredrickson
FEATURED EVENT
A.J. Gibson historic architecture bike tour
Wed., Sept. 3, from 5:30 PM to 7 PM starting at the Oval on UM campus and ending at Missoula Art Museum.
The Way Way West is a new play about a dark, strange episode of the American frontier: the Mountain Meadows Massacre. In 1857, the Baker-Fancher wagon train out of Arkansas rolled through Utah at exactly the wrong moment — when Mormons were bracing for a U.S. Army invasion. Locals, already on edge from years of persecution by the U.S. government and Brigham Young’s fire-and-brimstone leadership, convinced themselves the emigrants were a threat. After a siege, they offered a fake truce, slaughtered more than a hundred people, and tried to pin it all on Paiute tribes.
The play, which opens this weekend on the MCT stage, threads together stories of an abused wife, a boy who grows up burning for revenge, and a wandering Wayfaring Stranger who sings the audience through the wreckage. Yes – sings. The Way Way West is a musical about a massacre and its aftermath, with some very bleak song titles (“One Man’s Pain” and “Sink Like a Stone”) that appear to be balanced by others that promise relief (“Hymn of Faith” and “Find My Strength in You”).
I’ll be honest: I don’t know what this will be like. Stories of pioneers, religion, and land grabs during this era of western expansion are tricky. The mainstream settlers' perception of this time is riddled with myth and caricature. Nuance can be hard to find. Whose perspectives are being considered? Why retell this story? But it seems like it’s in pretty good hands: The creative team behind it (three live in Montana, one lives is in Nashville) has an impressive background, with Broadway and Grammy-level credits. So much so, it’s hard to keep it brief.
Dan Sharkey, who headed up this project, can be heard singing on several original on and off-Broadway soundtracks. He was in the original Broadway cast of The Bridges of Madison County and in Broadway revivals playing the Green Goblin in Spider-Man: Turn Off the Dark and Captain Von Trapp in The Sound of Music across from Marie Osmond. Chris Roberts is a Grammy-nominated songwriter, part of the Tony-nominated original Broadway cast and national touring company of The Civil War and performed with Sir Paul McCartney at Carnegie Hall. Mike Eldred starred as Jean Valjean in the original Broadway production of Les Misérables, was also part of the original cast of The Civil War, and starred as “The Tenor” in the national concert
tour of Handel’s Messiah Rocks. And, finally, Ross Bridgeman is a singer, songwriter, multi-instrumentalist, producer, actor, and award-winning arranger who lives in Whitefish, and who has recorded multiple solo and band projects (and also shared the stage with Nick Jonas at the Billboard Music Awards one year).
The Way Way West is described on MCT’s site as “a testament to the ongoing, cascading effects of one man’s narcissism and pain among so many people over so many miles.” There are two casts: An all-male cast and an all female cast, and you can choose which performance to attend with that factor in mind. Friday is the play’s “World Premiere,” which includes a musical showcase and reception. And as a world premiere, it’s basically a newborn (though it’s been workshopped on some small stages in Whitefish, I think) and that means there are no formal reviews of the script or production
yet.
However it lands artistically, it’s a bold and intriguing choice to take a violent chapter of western history that many people have never heard of and set it to music. We all woke to news of another school shooting this week. And every morning, the violence and horror in Gaza continues, enabled by so much political rhetoric and a kind of global, mass dissociation. This show may resonant for many reasons because stuff like this doesn’t live in a vacuum. But good theater is one way to stay in touch with empathy and keep our humanity in check. And I’m told there’s a sense of overall hope in this show, sprinkled with some comedic moments.
Fri., Aug. 29 premiere with reception at 6 PM and show at 7:30 PM. Regular shows Sat., Aug. 30, at 2 PM and 7:30 PM, and Sun., Aug. 31, at 2 PM @ MCT. $67 for the Friday premiere. $37 general / $32 senior and military / $27 child and college student. Rated PG-13.
I think Disney’s Encanto probably made every kid want a fun superpower like all the children in the magical Madrigal family, like the ability to talk to animals or bench press an entire building or shapeshift into whatever goofy form you could imagine. But poor Mirabel, man. She didn’t get a super power. She got stuck with what corporate job postings like to call “soft skills.” Translation: she’s good at listening and mediating family meltdowns. She’s got the chops for customer service too: defusing Abuela’s rage without hanging up once.
But, you know what? The truth is, it’s “soft skills” that are often what actually save the day. History’s most effective rulers, a silver-tongued spy turning the allegiance of an arms dealer, and anyone who has ever charmed their way into a party without the requisite invitation. And in Encanto, Mirabel’s ability to bring people together is what keeps the whole family from unraveling.
That’s also what Missoula Outdoor Cinema has been cultivating for 22 years. The series screen films, but in doing so, it creates community — especially in Missoula’s low-income neighborhoods — while raising funds for affordable housing. This week’s showing is Encanto, so you can watch Mirabel work her underrated magic while MOC does the same thing IRL.
Come for the magical realism, stay for the community building — and maybe start treating soft skills like the hardcore superpower they are. —Quinn Stromberg
Fri., Aug. 29, at around 8:30 PM @ Head Start. Suggested donations: $5 per individual / $20 per family.
Logjam Presents’ rise over the past decade has transformed Missoula’s music scene, delivering marquee acts, stunning venues and a national spotlight. It also brought with it a corporate playbook that clashed with the city’s homespun music culture — and caught the attention of a much bigger fish in the game, Live Nation.
Alaska vowed to resolve murders of Indigenous people. Now it refuses to provide their names.
When the nonprofit Data for Indigenous Justice filed public records requests with the Alaska Department of Public Safety concerning cases it had investigated, the state rejected them.
Fish and Wildlife Commission approves project to conserve timber forests near Libby
The easement on 53,000 acres of private timberland in Flathead and Lincoln counties would preserve public access and timber production. The project received unanimous commissioner support and now requires approval by the land board.
A new book explores how Americans came to believe in an advanced Martian civilization at the turn of the twentieth century. What does it reveal about our current obsession with the Red Planet?
