The Times does a little write up on the bathrooms in the Times Square subway stop. Key to the article is the largess shown by Boston Properties in paying for the attendant. It’s a clever sleight of hand, as if there was no precedent for hiring people simply to serve the interests of the public, while at the same time making it seem like every other person in the employ of Boston Properties is the result of an absolutely letter-perfect rational process that was thrown into complete disarrary because the city was so hard nosed as to mandate this beneficence. I’m sure the cost of lawyer’s time spent hammering out the agreement would pay for the attendant for the next ten years. Anyway, fuck developers, etc. Let’s talk shit here.
Whereas the Times Square restrooms are notable for their convenience (if waiting in line to be buzzed in qualifies as convenience) and not for design, if you are seeking high quality rest stops that aren’t in SoHo bars or Ian Schrager hotels, you can repair to the Solaire. The Solaire is the apartment building in Battery Park City that has been getting a lot of press lately because it is so ‘green.’ All things being relative, the claim that it is the ‘greenest apartment building’ in the country is probably valid (if you don’t count Arcosanti), but it also doesn’t mean we should run out and build acres of Solaires. As buildings go, it’s not awful (that’s about as close as I get to praise most days); the last in a trioka of buildings with similar massing that front Rockefeller Park and the Hudson River, and the best, though the hewing such distinctions is tricky work. Each building makes a half-hearted effort to break down their monolithic character with various tricks, none of which rank higher than minimal interventions on the facade to create a more variegated pattern that you see on, say, a Costas Kondylis apartment block, though it’s far too early to determine if they have any staying power as an idea. They’re still brand spanking new, and if you walk a little further south to the Marina, look south for an example of a building that one might have said the same about fifteen years ago and see if you think it has weathered well. The best thing that can be said about them is they manage to be rather unobstrusive for being so ungainly, and the slight curve they follow is an arbitrary site plan gesture, but is effective in mitigating the fact that the three building are near identical in mass and footprint.
It turns out that there must have been some similar bathroom for building deal with the Solaire, for, on a recent afternoon, bathrooms that were being serviced in the park proper directed me to public restrooms on the Northwest corner. I walked over skeptically, and sure enough there was one of those BID rent a cop fellows. But I got no grief marching past him into the area marked only by a taped up sign. Inside is one of the best public restroom spaces I have ever seen in the city, be it design, cleanliness or conservation. Motion sensor lights (long life bulbs in wire mesh chages) and fans, waterless urinals (they even come with a polite little sign saying they are safe to use) automated sinks and hand dryers. Every functional detail has been well considered for its environmental impact and future of abuse. That would be in and of itself an impressive standard for such a facility, but the materials selection and execution are first rate as well. The tile work is sharp (well considered and really well installed); the entry is frosted, striated glass rectangles set in a stainless storefront framing (the assembly might be stock, but I doubt it. The detailing is way too precise and well proportioned). A range of practical blue-grey colors add up to being cool and inviting (and a nice relief on a sunny day). Like the interior of the Time/Warner center, it’s a solid example of what a good, corporate firm can do with all their well educated and underpaid talent. In this case, it is Cesar Pelli’s team. I don’t like Pelli’s work very much, mostly because it is mediocre, but moreso because I recall an essay he penned for Inland Architect back in the late eighties, when he decried the habit of architects who made a small name for themselves doing solid regional work getting enough noteriety to enable them to then run around the country putting up basically the same building over and over. I wonder if he remembers that article from time to time, and how he rationalizes his work now. But I can’t fault him for that bathroom. The rest of the building is some pretty obvious moves, but if you need to step out (or in) for a moment when downtown, it’s enough to make you feel like you live in a real city for a moment. Perhaps they should rename it the Miraige.
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Here I sit happy hearted, for once the design wasn’t martyred.
The Times does a little write up on the bathrooms in the Times Square subway stop. Key to the article is the largess shown by Boston Properties in paying for the attendant. It’s a clever sleight of hand, as if there was no precedent for hiring people simply to serve the interests of the public, while at the same time making it seem like every other person in the employ of Boston Properties is the result of an absolutely letter-perfect rational process that was thrown into complete disarrary because the city was so hard nosed as to mandate this beneficence. I’m sure the cost of lawyer’s time spent hammering out the agreement would pay for the attendant for the next ten years. Anyway, fuck developers, etc. Let’s talk shit here.
Whereas the Times Square restrooms are notable for their convenience (if waiting in line to be buzzed in qualifies as convenience) and not for design, if you are seeking high quality rest stops that aren’t in SoHo bars or Ian Schrager hotels, you can repair to the Solaire. The Solaire is the apartment building in Battery Park City that has been getting a lot of press lately because it is so ‘green.’ All things being relative, the claim that it is the ‘greenest apartment building’ in the country is probably valid (if you don’t count Arcosanti), but it also doesn’t mean we should run out and build acres of Solaires. As buildings go, it’s not awful (that’s about as close as I get to praise most days); the last in a trioka of buildings with similar massing that front Rockefeller Park and the Hudson River, and the best, though the hewing such distinctions is tricky work. Each building makes a half-hearted effort to break down their monolithic character with various tricks, none of which rank higher than minimal interventions on the facade to create a more variegated pattern that you see on, say, a Costas Kondylis apartment block, though it’s far too early to determine if they have any staying power as an idea. They’re still brand spanking new, and if you walk a little further south to the Marina, look south for an example of a building that one might have said the same about fifteen years ago and see if you think it has weathered well. The best thing that can be said about them is they manage to be rather unobstrusive for being so ungainly, and the slight curve they follow is an arbitrary site plan gesture, but is effective in mitigating the fact that the three building are near identical in mass and footprint.
It turns out that there must have been some similar bathroom for building deal with the Solaire, for, on a recent afternoon, bathrooms that were being serviced in the park proper directed me to public restrooms on the Northwest corner. I walked over skeptically, and sure enough there was one of those BID rent a cop fellows. But I got no grief marching past him into the area marked only by a taped up sign. Inside is one of the best public restroom spaces I have ever seen in the city, be it design, cleanliness or conservation. Motion sensor lights (long life bulbs in wire mesh chages) and fans, waterless urinals (they even come with a polite little sign saying they are safe to use) automated sinks and hand dryers. Every functional detail has been well considered for its environmental impact and future of abuse. That would be in and of itself an impressive standard for such a facility, but the materials selection and execution are first rate as well. The tile work is sharp (well considered and really well installed); the entry is frosted, striated glass rectangles set in a stainless storefront framing (the assembly might be stock, but I doubt it. The detailing is way too precise and well proportioned). A range of practical blue-grey colors add up to being cool and inviting (and a nice relief on a sunny day). Like the interior of the Time/Warner center, it’s a solid example of what a good, corporate firm can do with all their well educated and underpaid talent. In this case, it is Cesar Pelli’s team. I don’t like Pelli’s work very much, mostly because it is mediocre, but moreso because I recall an essay he penned for Inland Architect back in the late eighties, when he decried the habit of architects who made a small name for themselves doing solid regional work getting enough noteriety to enable them to then run around the country putting up basically the same building over and over. I wonder if he remembers that article from time to time, and how he rationalizes his work now. But I can’t fault him for that bathroom. The rest of the building is some pretty obvious moves, but if you need to step out (or in) for a moment when downtown, it’s enough to make you feel like you live in a real city for a moment. Perhaps they should rename it the Miraige.