Lowell House

Lowell House is more than just bricks and bells. Built back in 1930, this was one of Harvard’s very first undergraduate houses, part of President Abbott Lawrence Lowell’s ambitious plan to give every student a place to live on campus. And yes, if you’re wondering, the ALL above the gate isn’t just shouting about inclusive grammar—it’s an ode to Abbott Lawrence Lowell, as if the building itself is a bit of a name-dropper. The architects apparently had a bit of a royal sense of style. The House’s design, centered around not just one but two landscaped courtyards, is so fancy it actually won the 1938 Harleston Parker Medal—Cambridge’s unofficial “best dressed” award for buildings. Look up! That blue-capped bell tower, a local beacon, was inspired not by Philadelphia’s Independence Hall as rumor claims, but by a Dutch church. Seems like Harvard likes to keep us guessing. But don’t be fooled into thinking it’s all style and no substance. Lowell House began a new era for Harvard’s house system. Imagine Julian Lowell Coolidge, the first Master—and mathematician—commanding Monday-night high tables, with faculty and students mingling under glowing chandeliers. If you listen carefully, you might just catch the faint echo of silverware on porcelain and the gentle clinking of tea cups. And oh, the traditions! Every Thursday afternoon saw the House transform into an oasis of refinement with tea, while May Day dawned with waltz music on the Weeks Footbridge—nothing says 'good morning' like a formal dance at sunrise before your first cup of coffee. Meanwhile, in spring the courtyard would light up—sometimes literally—for the raucous Bacchanalia Formal, complete with a live swing band and the sort of dancing that would make even the sturdiest stag on the family crest tap its hooves. Lowell House is Harvard’s home for the arts, too. Heard of the annual Lowell House Opera, staged right in the dining hall? It’s the kind of place where you might walk in for some roast chicken and walk out humming Tchaikovsky, or at least humming along on a kazoo. Speaking of which, every Arts First festival, the first weekend in May, the courtyard would rumble with a unique rendition of the 1812 Overture. Too expensive for real cannons? No problem! Enter hydrogen-filled balloons—care of the House chemistry tutor—ignited with a satisfying whoosh. Don’t worry, they’ve worked on their safety skills since then. But perhaps Lowell is most famous—at least in musical circles—for its legendary bells. Picture a set of 18 authentic Russian bells, rescued in 1930 from the Soviet smelters by millionaire plumber Charles Crane, who apparently had a flair for both pipes and priceless antiques. These bells once rang from Moscow’s Danilov Monastery before being installed here, right in that tower above your head. Students, dubbed Klappermeisters, would chime them every Sunday at 1pm, their sonorous rings echoing through Cambridge, delighting townsfolk and waking up any students napping off Saturday mischief. And after Harvard’s annual football dust-up with Yale, those bells might ring out the Crimson score on “Mother Earth”—the largest bell—and Yosemite Sam (well, not quite), the “Bell of Pestilence, Famine, and Despair” for the losers. Over time, the bells grew dear to both Harvard and Russia. When Danilov Monastery reopened, there came a bittersweet twist—the bells needed to return. In 2008, they rang a final time here, the tower trembling with sound and nostalgia, before near-perfect replicas took their place. Not to worry though: their music lives on in the Lowell House Virtual Bell Tower, ringing out every Sunday for a new generation. All around you, history sits alongside humor. This is the house that inspired not just scholars—like Justice David Souter and writer Michael Crichton—but also Hollywood, hosting scenes from Method Man and Redman’s “How High” and stars like Matt Damon and Natalie Portman as former residents. You never know, maybe the next laugh you hear coming from these halls will belong to a future Nobel Prize winner—or just someone late for tea.