You’ve probably walked right past it. If you’re strolling down Lincoln Avenue in Chicago’s Lincoln Square neighborhood, your eyes are likely hunting for a decent taco or a pint of German lager. But at 4611 North Lincoln Avenue sits a building that looks like it belongs in a dream—or maybe a jewelry box. This is the Krause Music Store Chicago, and honestly, it’s one of the weirdest and most beautiful things Louis Sullivan ever touched. It wasn't his biggest project. Not by a long shot. But it was his last. And that matters.
People usually associate Louis Sullivan with towering skyscrapers or the massive Auditorium Building downtown. By the time 1922 rolled around, though, Sullivan was basically broke. He was living in a single room, drinking too much, and watching the world move on to Art Deco while he was still obsessing over the organic, leafy geometry of his youth. Then came William Krause.
Krause wanted a music store. He wanted a place that sold pianos and sheet music but looked like a temple to art. Sullivan, desperate for the work and still possessed by a genius that refused to quit, gave him a facade that remains one of the most significant pieces of architecture in the Midwest. It’s a tiny footprint with a massive soul.
Why the Krause Music Store Chicago is the "Lyrical" End of an Era
Architecture isn't just about bricks. It’s about timing. When Sullivan designed the facade for the Krause Music Store Chicago, he was working on a tiny budget compared to his glory days with Dankmar Adler. Yet, you look at that mint-green terra cotta and you see a man pouring everything he had left into a 26-foot-wide space.
The building is essentially a frame. Sullivan used the American Terra Cotta Company to execute a design that looks like it’s breathing. There’s this central plate-glass window—perfect for showing off pianos back in the day—surrounded by a burst of Sullivan’s signature "system of ornament." It’s a mix of rigid geometry and exploding botanical life. Think of it as jazz made out of clay.
💡 You might also like: Where to Stay in Seoul: What Most People Get Wrong
Most people don't realize that Sullivan only did the front. The actual structure was designed by William Presto, but he knew Sullivan needed the win. He stepped aside to let the "Lieber Meister" handle the face of the building. It was a mercy commission that turned into a masterpiece. If you stand across the street, you can see the "K" for Krause tucked into the ornamentation. It’s subtle. It’s classy. It’s also incredibly fragile.
The Near Death of a Landmark
It’s kind of a miracle the Krause Music Store Chicago still exists. After the music business faded, the building went through the usual Chicago cycle of neglect and "creative" reuse. For a long time, it was a funeral parlor. Yeah, the place built to celebrate the harmony of music spent decades hosting wakes.
By the late 20th century, the terra cotta was a mess. Pollution, Chicago winters, and general apathy had turned the vibrant green into something grey and crumbling. In a city that loves to tear things down to build glass-box condos, the Krause building was a prime candidate for the wrecking ball.
Then came the rescue. In 2005, Peter and Pooja Vukosavich bought the building. They weren't just looking for office space; they were looking for a project that would probably bankrupt them if they weren't careful. They spent years meticulously restoring the facade. We’re talking about hand-cleaning terra cotta and sourcing the exact right hues to match Sullivan’s original vision. They turned it into the headquarters for their marketing agency, Studio V, proving that historic preservation isn't just for museums—it’s for living, working businesses.
📖 Related: Red Bank Battlefield Park: Why This Small Jersey Bluff Actually Changed the Revolution
The Specifics of the Sullivan Style
If you’re trying to spot what makes this place special, look for these details:
- The "Ogee" arch: That graceful, flowing curve at the top.
- The medallions: Circular bursts of detail that look like frozen fireworks.
- The color: It’s not just "green." It’s a specific, earthy celadon that changes depending on how the Chicago sun hits it.
- The symmetry: Sullivan loved a central axis, and this building is perfectly balanced, which gives it a sense of calm despite the "noisy" detail.
What it Means for Chicago Today
We talk a lot about the "Chicago School" of architecture. Usually, that means the heavy hitters like the Rookery or the Monadnock. But the Krause Music Store Chicago is the human-scale version of that history. It’s accessible. You don’t need a ticket or a tour guide to appreciate it; you just need to stand on the sidewalk.
It reminds us that even at the end of a career—when you’re down on your luck and the industry thinks you’re a dinosaur—you can still produce something that stops people in their tracks a century later. Sullivan died just a couple of years after this building was finished. He died in a cheap hotel, but he left behind a gift to a neighborhood that, at the time, was just the outskirts of the city.
Today, the building is a designated Chicago Landmark (since 1977) and is on the National Register of Historic Places. It’s a survivor.
👉 See also: Why the Map of Colorado USA Is Way More Complicated Than a Simple Rectangle
How to Experience the Building
Don't just drive by. That's a mistake. The magic of Sullivan is in the "micro." You have to get close enough to see the way the terra cotta mimics the growth of vines.
- Start across the street. Look at the proportions. See how the heavy frame at the top actually makes the whole building feel lighter?
- Cross over. Get within arm's reach. Look at the corners. Notice how the patterns don't just repeat; they evolve as they move up the facade.
- Check the light. The best time to visit is late afternoon. When the sun hits the Lincoln Avenue angle, the shadows in the terra cotta depth make the whole building look three-dimensional in a way digital photos just can't catch.
- Explore the area. Lincoln Square is right there. Grab a coffee at Gene’s Sausage Shop and walk over. It’s a perfect pairing of old-school Chicago grit and world-class art.
Actionable Insights for Architecture Lovers
If you're heading to see the Krause Music Store Chicago, do it right. Check the weather first; terra cotta looks completely different on a rainy day (it gets deeper, moodier) than it does in bright sunlight.
Bring a pair of binoculars. I'm serious. Some of the best work is near the roofline, far above eye level. You'll see details—tiny leaves and geometric intersections—that most people miss. Afterward, head south to the Graceland Cemetery. You can visit Sullivan’s grave. It’s a powerful bookend to seeing his final commercial work. You'll see a monument designed by his fans and peers, a fitting tribute to the man who gave Chicago its soul.
The Krause building isn't just a stop on a tour; it’s a reminder that beauty doesn't require a skyscraper to be monumental. It just requires a vision that refuses to compromise, even when the money runs out.