Stories of Slipek

From architecture reviews to illuminating hidden histories to year-end remembrances, Edwin Slipek strove to connect Richmonders of all stripes.

From the 1970s hard-hitting tabloid Richmond Mercury to Style Weekly to ArchitectureRichmond to Richmond BizSense, Slipek asked us to consider what we wanted our city to become. He wore many hats, including as a teacher, lecturer and set designer for the Firehouse Theatre. Near the end of his life, he was putting the finishing touches on a book about architect W. Duncan Lee.

Though he was a luddite who eschewed cell phones and email, there were more than a few times that he correctly identified upcoming news — such as the corruption scandal of then-Gov. Bob McDonnell — before the stories broke. He was of the old school and was a master of its information pipelines.

Here, some of Slipek’s friends and colleagues remember their favorite times with him:

Holly Timberline, editor of Style’s former sister publication, Family Style

“One day back in 2001, a bunch of us from the newsroom met for lunch at a little Mexican dive on Broad Street. Ed liked to talk about big things like architecture and history and culture, but that day, as I recall, we were talking about the recent spate of stoner comedies like ‘How High’ and ‘Road Trip.’ I remember Ed being so polite and smiling, but not saying a lot. On the way out to the parking lot, he stopped and looked around, confused, then deadpanned perfectly ‘Dude, where’s my car?’”

Don O’Keefe, co-founder of ArchitectureRichmond, principal architect at O’Keefe & Associates

“Although he traveled widely, lived in Boston in the late ’60s, and spent part of his time in New York in the 1980s and ’90s, Eddie was a creature of Richmond. His curiosity about the city was insatiable. How does it work? Why is it the way it is? And who made it that way? Eddie wanted to understand it all. I knew he would never truly leave the city, but a couple of years ago I asked him if he had considered doing a short stint away again — a year, perhaps?

‘If I was going to live anywhere else, it’d probably be South Beach, or maybe West Hollywood,’ he said, picking (I assume) the two most escapist destinations he could think of.

‘So, would you? If an opportunity came, would you spend a year away?’

‘No,’ he said after a long pause and a distant gaze. ‘I’m just beginning to figure this place out.’

Grey Garrett, actress

“When I was new to Richmond, performing in ‘POP!’ at Firehouse Theatre, I met Eddie. For years, I thought he was an incredibly kind, dedicated and gifted set designer. I had no idea of his other titles or accomplishments! He never mentioned them! He gave me a vintage, hardcover autobiography of Edie Sedgwick for our opening. I was playing her. I still have it and the handwritten card he also illustrated for me. I was new in town. He was the warmest person I’ve ever met.”

Greg Weatherford, former Style editor, communications director of the Virginia State Corporation Commission

“It’s hard to put into words what Ed Slipek meant to Richmond’s cultural life. He elevated how the city understands its urban landscape because he never forgot that the purpose of the buildings and streets and spaces that make up a community is to make life livable. He loved beautiful architecture, but throughout his career as a critic and public intellectual Ed preached a gospel of urban planning that put people first. He disdained architecture that disdained people because Ed believed that people are what matter most. And he lived that credo in everything he did, from how he spoke to people to how he used his critic’s pen (literally, in his case; he preferred to handwrite, not type). He was wise and kind and generous with his time and wisdom. And he knew everybody.”

Slipek pictured in Manchester near the old Style Weekly office in 2020.

Glenn Frankel, Pulitzer-winning reporter and former Richmond Mercury staff writer

“The Richmond Mercury was an ambitious and deeply flawed weekly experiment between 1972 and 1975 to dig below the somnolent surface of politics and culture in a city struggling to leave behind its ugly past and join the modern world while preserving its unique character. Eddie Slipek was not only a gifted art director but someone who understood the city’s history and values, had friends and sources in places high and low and tipped us to all kinds of stories and characters the daily papers did their best to ignore. He was also the best-looking and best-dressed member of our motley crew and he worked hard to make the paper look like fun.”

Barry O’Keefe, director of artists and spaces at Studio Two Three

“Like all mystic mentors, Eddie Slipek embodied an effortless coincidence of opposites. He was a genteel, nostalgic historian of Richmond’s past, and an unapologetically countercultural progressive. He was a hometown-hero rooted in this one place, and a man of the world, stopped on the streets of New York and Milan with an exuberant ‘Eddie!’ He was an unreachable, luddite hermit and the best-connected socialite in town. I saw him show up to a boisterous, inelegant birthday party of Richmonders half his age, make friends with everyone he met, and outlast half of them; a handwritten thank you note came a few days later. He is irreplaceable and will be dearly missed.”

Lorna Wyckoff, founder of Style

“Eddie and I met in the early days of Style when it was barely more than one feature per issue and a big fat calendar. We were the same age, same vintage: kindred souls. We laughed at the outrageous and outlandish, loved to dish and giggle, and lived for New York Magazine, Rolling Stone, and our favorite, Interview. IYKYK. Eddie was hip and cool, handsome and engaging, and everything I was hoping Style would become. His words, writing, easy style and smart analysis helped create our unique voice and approach that I submit continues to this day. Thank you, friend, for the inspiration, encouragement and friendship.”

Jason Roop, former Style editor

“In the newsroom, Eddie was fun. He often served as our esprit de corps — reminding us that what we did mattered and that it was a privilege. His pep talks would remind us of how special it was to work together to produce a publication that was free for readers to use and enjoy. He called it a weekly gift to Richmond. So was Eddie and his work.

“He’d write about lost opportunities, complicated layers of history, and offered vision about how to turn low points into highs. He offered layers of background, history and approachable analogies. You’d learn about not only an architectural style, but also why it was relevant today. What was its place — and why should we care? He made architecture relevant, interesting and important. He made you look closer.”

Edwin Slipek wrote award-winning stories about architecture and local history for Style Weekly for nearly 30 years. He is shown here at the Intermediate Terminal in 2018. Photo by Scott Elmquist.

Scott Bass, former Style news editor, current Richmond Magazine news editor

“I started working at Style in the early 2000s, and the energy I brought into the newsroom wasn’t always so sunny. I was too serious at times and a little angry. Richmond was also a different place back then, a little grittier and raw politically. Eddie, however, always centered us. When he showed up for meetings, it was as if a window opened. He would bound into the newsroom and instantly brighten the place, smiling, always happy to see you. I loved Eddie Slipek for his energy, his joy, and his journalistic integrity. Slipek taught us how to be tough but fair — and fearless when it was time to stand up for the city.”

Scott Elmquist, Style’s longtime staff photographer

“Eddie was a walking master class in civility, kindness and compassion. He was beyond brilliant in many respects but his genuine interest in people (of all walks of life) is what made him the North Star to so many.”

Jeff Bland, former Style art director

“There was always a sense of buoyancy being in the presence of Eddie. A consummate conversationalist, he was brimming with knowledge in almost any subject, and was equally willing to share concern and encouragement as he was a relevant and often hilarious story.”

Don Harrison, former arts editor for Style

“When I learned of Eddie’s passing, my immediate concern was for Richmond. What’s going to happen to us now? Eddie was our institutional memory, our connector, the one who knew everything and was welcomed by everybody. He was also a fabulous writer and truth teller who could make the cornice of a building sound like paradise, or an abomination. Richmond needs to name something after him, and as quickly as possible, but hopefully something he approved of. People say that he could be elusive because he wasn’t a slave to his phone or to social media, but I never met a person who was more connected to his community.”

Cyane Crump, executive director of Historic Richmond

“Eddie spent a great deal of time in our office over the past 10 years as he worked with us on the Duncan Lee manuscript project, a series of architectural history classes and lectures. Not only was he instantaneously the best friend of every staff member, but he was a mentor too. As an academic and an unparalleled raconteur, he knew more about Richmond’s history than just about anyone, and he delighted in sharing the stories of the people and places that make Richmond special. While he wrote extensively — and we are so grateful for that body of his work — Eddie was most charismatic in his live lectures and classes or while discussing the work of Duncan Lee. He had the reporter’s eye for the story behind the story, finding the unique angle on the people who shaped the places that Richmonders know and love today. Through his body of work, he built a greater appreciation for Richmond’s architecture and history.”

Slipek while reporting a story in the town of Port Royal, Va. in Carolina County. Photo by Scott Elmquist

Bill Martin, director of the Valentine Museum

“He was a good friend and wise counsel for over 30 years. As the Valentine began planning major building initiatives and new exhibitions, I always started with Ed. He would bring that special eye for design and a unique perspective that made every project better. My first question was always ‘What would Ed think?’ After a long dinner and maybe a few beverages, I got my answer.”

Walter Dotts, chairman of the board for the Branch Museum of Design

“Edwin Slipek’s influence on our community, the field of architecture, and the realm of design is immeasurable. His legacy will continue to shine brightly in the heart of Richmond. We salute him and the life he dedicated to the arts and architecture.”

Danielle Worthing Porter, director of preservation services for Historic Richmond

“Eddie had the ability to make everyone feel like they were his best friend. He was an incredible storyteller and he always had a story that could connect people, buildings and places. … He never read the comments of anything he published online, but I hope that wherever he is now that he is able to see what everyone is writing about him.”

Harry Kollatz Jr., senior writer for Richmond Magazine

“Ed and I attended a symposium or public meeting of some kind about VCU’s expansionist policies. It got heated. Funny thing was we gathered in that preserved little church building at Floyd and Harrison built in 1906 for the Unitarians. An example of adaptive reuse. A representative of the university’s real estate arm basically smirked at complaints about buildings torn down, and at one point declared, ‘Nobody but you people care about these places. They go away, and nobody thinks about them.’ To which I shot back something not as elegant as I should’ve: ‘If by “you people” you mean the people who live here, and have memories, and have to look at these things?’ It got some applause. Later, I felt a little bit abashed by my behavior, and remarked to Eddie, ‘I got a little evangelical.’ And he replied, ‘As well you should.’”

Eddie Slipek shown with his brother Stephen and his sister Margaret on a visit to one of their ancestors’ homes.

Michael Schwartz, editor of Richmond BizSense

“When we were fortunate enough to have Eddie become a regular contributor to BizSense, I ended up as his one-man photo desk. BizSense doesn’t have a dedicated photographer, let alone a Scott Elmquist. And Eddie didn’t shoot his own photos. So, when he was writing his columns, he’d give me, albeit politely, photo assignments. They came to be called my Slipek Scavenger Hunts. He’d have me scouring the city for places I had passed by hundreds of times but to which I had never paid close enough attention to notice the details he was writing about. I grew to love those hunts and to this day I see certain buildings, streets and parts of town differently because of it. His mind was a living, nonstop history tour.”

Elizabeth Cogar, former Style writer and section editor

“For a time in the ’90s, Eddie and I sat side by side in a corner of the Style newsroom where a dozen writers tried to write amid the clanging of phone calls and jabber. Our proximity enabled us to have our own back channel just below the ambient noise level. There were smirks for the self-aggrandizing, raised eyebrows for ‘I didn’t know that,’ ‘Wow, that’s interesting’ or ‘Uh oh,’ and stifled amusement at stuff not supposed to be funny. In hushed tones, we’d comment out of the corners of our mouths, and a big theme of his was the fact that, in spite of what some of our colleagues thought, we were small fry no matter how you looked at it. Yes, we were published writers, but big whoop. He loved to say with a laugh, ‘Come on! Our stories are just decorations for the ads!’ Another, said when a writer got totally bent because the [Richmond Times-Dispatch] scooped us on a story, ‘Good grief, we’re not The New York Times! Calm down.’”

Richard Foster, former Style staff writer, current editor and associate publisher of Virginia Business

“In addition to being a fine writer, architecture expert and beloved co-worker, Ed Slipek was a raconteur par excellence. The last time I saw him, at a cocktail reception at the Valentine, with a naughty schoolboy gleam in his eye, he took wicked delight in recounting an off-color something he’d witnessed during a 1970s visit to the notorious Plato’s Retreat. My favorite of Ed’s stories involved a 1982 business trip to New York during which he’d built in time to visit the Gothic Cathedral of St. John the Divine. Emerging from the taxi in his suit and tie, he was quickly ushered through an unexpected crowd outside the cathedral and into the star-studded memorial service for comedian John Belushi. This was par for the course in the life of a remarkable Richmonder whose like we won’t see again.”

Melissa Sinclair Barber, former Style reporter

“To me, Ed Slipek was Richmond. As a young reporter at Style — new to journalism, new in town — I was enchanted by his encyclopedic knowledge of the city. Eddie could tell you the story behind any story. He always knew who to call. He could be counted on for hot tips and uproarious gossip. I was enchanted, too, by his mysterious comings and goings. Eddie didn’t do email. He didn’t answer the phone. His desk was heaped with yellowing back issues and notebooks, his voicemail light perpetually red.

“Eddie had all of old Richmond’s charm with none of its prejudices. He understood the city’s history and challenged those who wanted to erase it. He was a brilliant writer and a friend to us all.”

Brent Baldwin, former arts editor and current editor for Style

“I keep remembering how thoughtful he was. Many times, Eddie walked me back from the precipice with his trifecta of good humor, social graces and friendly wisdom (‘never let ‘em see you sweat, my man’), or he might bombard you with over-the-top compliments meant to lift your spirits. It’s true that he could be having a private dinner with a billionaire discussing the future of the city, a few hours later chatting up a stranger on the city bus, and the next morning telling me about the time he met drag queen Divine; he had endless amazing stories. Most impressively, he was always able to maintain his heightened curiosity about people, and the world, which feels increasingly rare. I’ll miss that mischievous Eddie grin, his wonderful laugh, and the way he could disarm anybody with the story of his latest adventure. You forgot your troubles in Eddieland. When somebody that special is gone, the world feels like a colder, dimmer place – but he would shoo away any self-pity and tell us to stay curious and keep working hard. He always knew what to say and when to say it.”

In 2018, Slipek and Style Weekly received an honorary award from the American Institute of Architects Virginia. From left: Jackson Slipek (his brother), Eddie Slipek and Style Editor Brent Baldwin.

Elizabeth S. Kostelny, former CEO of Preservation Virginia

“Summing up the impact and influence of someone like Ed is no easy task. As the former CEO of Preservation Virginia, we crossed paths on preservation related issues in the city. He was one of a kind, always quick to assess the situation, always kind in offering encouragement. Through his writings, teaching, and advocacy, Ed championed what makes Richmond stand out — the integrity of its historic fabric. As issues arose, he forwarded solutions that accommodated growth and change while preserving the distinct character of this historic city. There will never be another Ed Slipek. His legacy will live on through his friends, students and those who reread his columns.”

Will Glasco, CEO of Preservation Virginia

“Unique places of history are only saved when people care. Ed Slipek cared deeply, and through his eloquent pen, he shared the stories of these places, educating the Richmond community as to what’s in their backyards. Ed’s passing is a huge loss to the local preservation and journalism community, and we mourn him at Preservation Virginia.”

Emma Fuller, Fuller/Overby Architecture

“Eddie is the Richmond corpus. His intimate knowledge of the city as a body and people is material and ephemeral. The past, present, and future are fused together with an unrelenting optimism that all is not for naught. He reconstructs and imagines, painting a vivid landscape that embraces the draughts and projects the possibilities. He vibrates and articulates with audible clarity and joy.”

Chris Snowden, owner/architect at Christopher Snowden Design

“Eddie and I were in Helsinki, Finland, in May of 2024. We had just finished a Michelin star dinner and he suggested we head out and ‘tear up the dance floor’ at [Hercules, the city’s] largest gay dance club. Me, as a 35 year old, reluctantly said yes. We got our drinks at this seemingly dead club at 9:45 p.m. and Eddie proceeded to start the dance party as a 73-year-old man. [He asked] the DJ to play Madonna’s “Vogue.” He started singing word-for-word — complete with the perfect ‘strike a pose’ head whip to side — while his arms were locked into place above his chest … motioning EVERYONE to join in. … As I got my next drink the bartender said, ‘This place doesn’t usually start getting wild until midnight!’

“Eddie knew [the finite] reality of existence; through losing two partners, friends and family … Eddie experienced more loss in the late 1980s through the late 1990s than we could ever perceive. … We should see his death [as not just a] part of life, but a passing of a torch more important than us all.”