Monday, September 11, 2006
Five Years On...
New York is a city of constant renewal – even at the cost of losing much of its past. Often this renewal happens at a rapid pace as often happens in a city that never sleeps. As anyone who looks at pictures of old New York will notice, much of the past has long since gone and replaced with a contemporary vision of the city. Often, this vision is seen as “practical” or a “good investment”. Yet, when one sees the old images, one wonders whether something is lost in the pursuit of monetary gain.
Whenever I arrive at Penn Station, it’s nothing but this nondescript vestibule with utilitarian staircases and a functional station platform. It almost feels as if the designers put in a train station below their building because they had to, not because it was a part of any vision. There’s absolutely no hint of the grandeur that once was Penn Station. The only images I’ve seen of the place are just that - images. Its destruction happened before my time. Yet, just looking at these pictures gives one an idea of how grand and elegant the place was.
Outside, it took up a whole city block and looked like a Greek temple with rows of stone columns that were at least 100 feet high. Inside, the station was palatial with grand staircases and huge arched roofs. It was built in 1910 when rail travel was the premier way to go. Then, in 1962, the owners decided to knock it down, since most people who used Penn Station were mere commuters, and it was decided that such elegant surroundings were wasted for such common use.
So, the entire structure was destroyed, its pieces relegated to a dumpsite in New Jersey - with nary a cry in protest. What replaced it was an arena named Madison Square Garden (which replaced another Madison Square Garden a couple of blocks to the south) and the nondescript train station below ground. It was only a short time after that when people realized what they lost.
In fact, the 1950s was a time when much of old, architecturally grand New York disappeared under the wrecking ball under the guise of “urban renewal” where new replaced old. The actual fact was the older buildings were considered not big enough. So, the three-to-ten story buildings with their terra cotta detailing were replaced by 20-to-50 story non-descript glass towers with the personality of a sponge. The designers weren’t looking for anything grand or elegant – at least, on the outside. What they looked for was practicality – and plenty of office or living space inside.
When I used to go to Washington Square Park, I would walk south on Fifth Avenue passing a nondescript and practical-looking complex called the Brevoort Apartments. These were (and still are) luxury apartments worth a hefty price ever since they were built in 1958. One of its first tenants was the musician Buddy Holly. (Its current celebrity tenants are a carefully guarded secret.) However, what it replaced will give you an idea of how the past gets sacrificed.
What once stood at the Brevoort Apartments was the five-story Brevoort Hotel and something called the Brevoort House. Among the people who once lived in the Brevoort House (at different times) were two literary giants, Washington Irving and Mark Twain. Now, the only thing to commemorate the place is a plaque on the side of the current building stating that this was the site of Brevoort House where Irving stayed in 1840 and Twain stayed in 1905.
As for the Brevoort Hotel, it was the epitome of New York luxury for much of the 19th Century into the early 20th Century. Before the Waldorf-Astoria or the Ritz, there was the Brevoort Hotel. It was actually a merging of three townhouses made into an elegant hotel fit for royalty. In fact, many a royal that visited New York stayed there, including the Prince of Wales (future King Edward VII of England). Its major claim to fame was the sponsorship of an airplane race to see who would be the first to fly across the Atlantic Ocean. Among other prizes (including $25,000) was a stay in the Brevoort. The winner of said prize? Charles Lindbergh in 1927!
So, it was with tragic wistfulness when developers decided to tear down both the Brevoort Hotel and the Brevoort House replacing them with the 19-story nondescript-looking (on the outside) Brevoort Apartments. Even an attempt to preserve the house fell on deaf ears! Unfortunately, there are many such stories.
It’s a wonder then that the area known as “Ground Zero” is still an undeveloped hole in the ground – albeit forever hallowed in our eyes. Then again, considering its recent tragic history, and the many voices that demand to be heard, no wonder little has been done there. Whatever gets done, it’s hoped that it’s done with a vision that would inspire future generations. Although, looking at the renditions of what is planned (so far) shows the typical non-descript and practical steel-and-glass design.
Whatever gets built there, all I know is that my heart will still ache for what once was.
Whenever I arrive at Penn Station, it’s nothing but this nondescript vestibule with utilitarian staircases and a functional station platform. It almost feels as if the designers put in a train station below their building because they had to, not because it was a part of any vision. There’s absolutely no hint of the grandeur that once was Penn Station. The only images I’ve seen of the place are just that - images. Its destruction happened before my time. Yet, just looking at these pictures gives one an idea of how grand and elegant the place was.
Outside, it took up a whole city block and looked like a Greek temple with rows of stone columns that were at least 100 feet high. Inside, the station was palatial with grand staircases and huge arched roofs. It was built in 1910 when rail travel was the premier way to go. Then, in 1962, the owners decided to knock it down, since most people who used Penn Station were mere commuters, and it was decided that such elegant surroundings were wasted for such common use.
So, the entire structure was destroyed, its pieces relegated to a dumpsite in New Jersey - with nary a cry in protest. What replaced it was an arena named Madison Square Garden (which replaced another Madison Square Garden a couple of blocks to the south) and the nondescript train station below ground. It was only a short time after that when people realized what they lost.
In fact, the 1950s was a time when much of old, architecturally grand New York disappeared under the wrecking ball under the guise of “urban renewal” where new replaced old. The actual fact was the older buildings were considered not big enough. So, the three-to-ten story buildings with their terra cotta detailing were replaced by 20-to-50 story non-descript glass towers with the personality of a sponge. The designers weren’t looking for anything grand or elegant – at least, on the outside. What they looked for was practicality – and plenty of office or living space inside.
When I used to go to Washington Square Park, I would walk south on Fifth Avenue passing a nondescript and practical-looking complex called the Brevoort Apartments. These were (and still are) luxury apartments worth a hefty price ever since they were built in 1958. One of its first tenants was the musician Buddy Holly. (Its current celebrity tenants are a carefully guarded secret.) However, what it replaced will give you an idea of how the past gets sacrificed.
What once stood at the Brevoort Apartments was the five-story Brevoort Hotel and something called the Brevoort House. Among the people who once lived in the Brevoort House (at different times) were two literary giants, Washington Irving and Mark Twain. Now, the only thing to commemorate the place is a plaque on the side of the current building stating that this was the site of Brevoort House where Irving stayed in 1840 and Twain stayed in 1905.
As for the Brevoort Hotel, it was the epitome of New York luxury for much of the 19th Century into the early 20th Century. Before the Waldorf-Astoria or the Ritz, there was the Brevoort Hotel. It was actually a merging of three townhouses made into an elegant hotel fit for royalty. In fact, many a royal that visited New York stayed there, including the Prince of Wales (future King Edward VII of England). Its major claim to fame was the sponsorship of an airplane race to see who would be the first to fly across the Atlantic Ocean. Among other prizes (including $25,000) was a stay in the Brevoort. The winner of said prize? Charles Lindbergh in 1927!
So, it was with tragic wistfulness when developers decided to tear down both the Brevoort Hotel and the Brevoort House replacing them with the 19-story nondescript-looking (on the outside) Brevoort Apartments. Even an attempt to preserve the house fell on deaf ears! Unfortunately, there are many such stories.
It’s a wonder then that the area known as “Ground Zero” is still an undeveloped hole in the ground – albeit forever hallowed in our eyes. Then again, considering its recent tragic history, and the many voices that demand to be heard, no wonder little has been done there. Whatever gets done, it’s hoped that it’s done with a vision that would inspire future generations. Although, looking at the renditions of what is planned (so far) shows the typical non-descript and practical steel-and-glass design.
Whatever gets built there, all I know is that my heart will still ache for what once was.
