Models for Willard State: Asylum Reuse Projects Around the Country
Have former asylum properties, built in the late 19th century to house people with mental illness, outlived their usefulness? Or can they once again contribute to modern society? In selecting the former Willard Asylum property for the 2022-2023 Seven to Save list, the League chose optimism. We’ve now researched a number of other asylum reuse projects in which properties very similar to Willard have charted a path toward productive and beneficial reuse, and have begun sharing this information with community members and decision-makers.
A group of people walk along a paved road on the Willard site. The League recently joined Craig Williams and the Romulus Historical Society to host a tour of the campus with preservationists and developers from around the area.
The property we now know as Willard State Hospital, or the Willard Drug Treatment Campus, housed a short-lived state agricultural college before being repurposed, in the late 1860s, for the long-term care of people with mental illness. Before New York and other states established state asylums (known as “lunatic asylums” in the terminology of the day), most people with mental illness were cared for at home, or were institutionalized in poorhouses or general hospitals where they encountered isolation and physical restraints rather than actual treatment. New York’s first asylum opened in Utica 1843, but was only intended to house people for a year or less; Willard was established to care for those whose conditions were considered long-term or permanent. It exemplified the “moral treatment” philosophy of care, which held that mental illness could be cured, or at least stabilized, through kind treatment without physical restraints, exposure to a beautiful setting in the countryside, and opportunities for meaningful work. Its spectacular main building (demolished in the 1980s) was also an example of a Kirkbride-plan hospital, following the
floor plan designed by Thomas Story Kirkbride for a series of linked wards stepping back from a central administration section, to maximize light and air in each ward while grouping patients according to sex and severity of symptoms. Four subsequent buildings constructed to house Willard's growing patient population were smaller-scale variations on the Kirkbride plan, while later buildings reflected later philosophies of hospital design.
As with so many similar properties, Willard experienced overcrowding, understaffing, and resource shortages in the 20th century. By the 1960s, psychiatric institutions nationwide fell out of favor and were shut down. Most recently the Willard campus served as a drug-treatment facility before being abruptly closed in early 2022.
Willard was one of dozens of state-run mental institutions established around the country in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Many have been abandoned or demolished, but more than we expected are well on the way to a brighter future. These five examples may provide inspiration to those looking for positive models for Willard and other former asylum properties.
Richardson-Olmsted Complex, (former Buffalo State Asylum, opened 1880), Buffalo, New York
A wintry view of the Towers Building on the Richardson Olmsted campus. Photo Credit: Paul Pasquarello
With a building designed by Henry Hobson Richardson, and a landscape designed by Frederick Law Olmsted, this is one of Buffalo’s many nationally significant masterpieces of architecture and landscape architecture. After the building sat vacant for decades, preservationists sued the state in 2004, arguing the state had an obligation to maintain buildings it owns; ultimately New York State committed $5 million, then later $76 million toward stabilization of the building and creation of the Richardson Center Corporation, a nonprofit organization that has steered the redevelopment process. The project has encountered both successes and setbacks. An early focus on reclaiming elements of the Olmsted landscape produced visible results early on, and has created a more welcoming environment enjoyed by neighbors. The elegant Hotel Henry opened in a section of the building in 2017, only to close during the pandemic, but is now preparing to reopen under a new developer and hotel operator. Planning is underway for the rehabilitation of additional sections of this massive building, to include housing, an architecture center, and more.
The Village at Grand Traverse Commons (former Northern Michigan Asylum, opened 1881), Traverse City, Michigan
An aerial view of the Village at Grand Traverse Commons, surround by fall foliage. via
Preservationists fought for years against the proposed demolition of the former Traverse City State Hospital (formerly the Northern Michigan Asylum), and conducted a national search for a developer only to find the perfect developer, the Minervini Group, was right in their community. The complex closed in 1989; in 2005, the first section of the new development, named the Village at Grand Traverse Commons, opened. Development has continued, and currently includes 62 market-rate condos, 68 affordable apartments, and 110-unit “All-Inclusive Residential Club for Seniors,” as well as 29 housing units in one of the smaller buildings on the campus. Other spaces have been redeveloped as professional offices and studios, restaurants, a winery, retail spaces, and a brewery. An event venue hosts weddings, performances, and other social events. Residents and neighbors enjoy access to the grounds for recreation. So far, the project has produced over 300 jobs and $42 million in private investment – with more to come as redevelopment continues.
The Ridges (former Athens Lunatic Asylum, opened 1874), Athens, Ohio
The Ridges auditorium, originally the Amusement building, was built in 1900. Originally used for chapel services, meetings, movies, activity therapy, and recreation purposes for the patients of the hospital. via
The former Athens Lunatic Asylum sits across the river from Ohio University. As was often the case, the beautiful grounds were considered public space where neighbors mingled with the residents. After the asylum closed in 1993, the property was deeded to Ohio University in a land swap with the state’s Department of Mental Health. The university embarked upon a planning process that involved extensive community input, and reframed the usual question “What could be located here,” as “What most deserves to be located here?” That subtle shift in wording points to, and encourages, a profound shift in mindset. To date, university planners have determined that a number of diverse uses deserve to be located at the former asylum, now called The Ridges: uses in the rehabilitated campus include art studios, an auditorium, the university’s Child Development Center, a geological research lab, the Voinovich School of Leadership and Public Service, and a number of support services for the university.
Medfield State Hospital (opened 1896), Medfield, Massachusetts
Buildings on the Medfield campus seen from a distance behind a row of bare trees. Photo credit: Jonathan Ralton, CC BY-SA 4.0 via Wikimedia Commons
Unlike the previous three examples, the 1896 Medfield State Hospital was not built on the Kirkbride Plan, but rather followed a later “cottage plan” model of smaller, residential-scale, freestanding buildings. Each had sitting and work rooms on the first floor, with bedrooms above. About a decade after the state closed the complex in 2003, the Town of Medfield purchased the property. An extensive process of community engagement revealed that Medfield residents prioritized retaining and expanding public access to the campus, and preserving the former chapel. At a 2018 town meeting, residents unanimously voted for the Board of Selectmen to enter a 99-year lease with the Cultural Alliance of Medfield, for the Alliance to create a cultural center as part of the campus.
In 2021, the Town issued an RFP and selected a development proposal that will retain and reuse all the historic buildings on the campus, creating a mixed-use housing and cultural complex that will target people who are downsizing. While planning is underway, the Cultural Alliance has been activating the site with murals (on non-historic buildings) and performances, enabling the site to begin to serve as the cultural center residents have advocated for all along. This project is still in the planning stages, but the vision is inspiring and seems well on its way to being realized.
Crownsville State Hospital (opened 1911), Crownsville, Maryland
Photo credit: Jack Parrott, CC BY-NC-ND 2.0, via Flickr
Residents of the Crownsville State Hospital were subjected to two layers of stigmatization, both for their mental illness and for their race, as this was the first mental hospital established specifically for Black patients in Maryland. Many residents weren’t even mentally ill, as people were sometimes sent here due to homelessness, intoxication, or petty crimes, leading the campus to function more as a jail than a hospital. Medical experimentation, supposedly in search of better treatments, was an unfortunate reality at many mental institutions in the 20th century, but even more so at Crownsville, where doctors assumed residents did not have family members who would complain about their treatment. Notable residents included a daughter of Henrietta Lacks, as well as the father of Pauli Murray.
This institution stayed open in some capacity until 2004, and was transferred to Anne Arundel County in 2021, so its future is very much still in the planning phases. A group called enBloom, which focuses on community-supported holistic wellness, specifically for the Black community, has proposed ambitious and creative ways to transform the site, commemorating what happened here while creating a new legacy of healing and hope through projects like climate-friendly agriculture, job training in green industries, experiential education designed for school field trips, camps, and homeschool groups, and creation of a hub for environmentally focused businesses and artisans. This is just a concept at this point, but as with the Medfield example, it represents an inspiring example of how a former asylum property can be reimagined as a place of change and progress.
None of these projects is an exact match to Willard, and that’s part of the point: each of these has its own strengths and challenges. For example, each of these is closer to a significant population center than Willard, which is split between the rural towns of Ovid (population 2,919) and Romulus (population 3,383). But on the other hand, none of these can match Willard’s picturesque lakeside setting along a wine trail in the burgeoning Finger Lakes, named by Travel + Leisure as a top destination in 2022. The solutions that worked in Buffalo, Athens, or Traverse City can’t be adopted as-is for Willard. Still, some of the takeaways from these projects are highly relevant as stakeholders begin planning for Willard’s future.
Neighbors often feel a strong connection to these properties, which were major employment centers and sources of community identity; they provide parklike open space that remains an important amenity. Neighbors must be treated as key stakeholders; their input is key to the success of a project.
An extensive planning process, involving multiple reports by experienced professionals, takes time, but can also set a realistic course for the project.
Early landscape rehabilitation or other projects that can be taken on while planning for the buildings is underway can be a great way to demonstrate progress, engage the community, and generate excitement.
Flexibility and phasing are key, allowing a developer to tackle one part of the project at a time and make adjustments as conditions evolve.
Rehabilitating and reusing some smaller buildings on a large campus can contribute to the walkable character of the campus, while providing a greater variety of spaces and development opportunities.
Every site has unique assets, and a different mix of uses will work depending on the location, nearby uses, and local demand.
Another takeaway has to do with the reputation many former asylum properties have as “haunted” – whether through organized ghost tours, unauthorized exploration, or websites that focus on abandoned asylums as being creepy. The more I researched these properties, the more convinced I became of the need to jettison this line of thinking, for several reasons:
It is disrespectful to the people who lived there, and to people who live with mental and/or physical illness now, to treat former patients as “ghosts” who are there for our entertainment or profit today.
It is also disrespectful to the people who founded and worked at these asylums to portray them as cruel torturers. In fact, most founders and employees, particularly in the early days, were idealistic, seeking to improve the lives of those with mental illness by getting them out of poorhouses where they were usually isolated and put into restraints, and into a more compassionate setting where they could live without physical restraints, surrounded by natural beauty and human kindness.
The buildings are not to blame for the decisions of people or for institutional failures that later led to overcrowding, lack of resources, and medical experimentation, and we shouldn’t shun, abuse, or slander the buildings for that reason. We can acknowledge the dark aspects of their history without losing sight of their original purpose and their current potential to be sites of healing and progress.
We believe a bright future is possible for Willard, and look forward to continuing to share our expertise in the reuse of historic buildings as the planning process gets underway in the weeks and months to come.