Maybe I’m getting old, maybe it’s the possibilty of a nascent interest in conservatism the convention will bring, but every time I read more about the Clemente Soto Velez Cultural Center, my willingness to stridently support the city protecting facilities such as this erodes. Sure, we watched helplessly as CHARAS got swindled, though thankfully the progress on that potential eyesore seems to have stalled. Now come the news that Alan Gerson is developing his own plan to try and appease the short-sighted, egotisitical and self-centered artists (oh, wait, that was redundant, wasn’t it?) who can’t seem to strike an agreement on their own, even under the threat of possible eviction (which the city is so far shielding them from). Gerson thinks it might work, but cautions “We won’t satisfy each group 100 percent.” Well, gosh. Those folks seemed so reasonable, I wonder what sort of totalitarian strictures The Man is inflicting on them.
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.
Brooklyn hipsters get specialized lingo for ‘Negro’.
Gawker has the details on one of those end of civilization as RISD grads know it pieces on the opening of the new Target. If you were wondering if the thousands of liberal arts education dollars spent enlightening suburban kids to the plight of the black man had any beneficial effect, read no further:
I was accidentally wearing my ‘defend brooklyn’ shirt which is about police brutality but aparently it was read as an anti-gentrification statement despite… once this joint is open to masses of brooklyn trash who make Pathmark unusable, I will never again be able to admire the rows and rows of blue greeting cards and purchase them with matching envelopes or peruse the aisles of Gatorade without witnessing parents beat their children in the middle
Notice how she (helpfully pictured so you can stay away from her at the next Polyphronic Spree show) cleverly says ‘brooklyn trash’ so we won’t think she is being race specific. Sure honey, we were completely fooled by that one. Too bad no one beat you (or didn’t beat you enough) so if you couldn’t at least demonstrate a whit of intelligence, you might at least have the good sense to keep your mouth shut.
It a maze, but there’s no prize for making it out.
The early results of the ‘creative bollard’ thinking that’s been going were quietly evidenced on Broad Street over the past week, as the final stages of a renovation are nearing completion. At the northern (where Broad becomes Nassau at the Wall Street juncture) and southern ends most of the traffic control barriers were large, rectangular planters with a pebbled concrete finish prone to deterioration at the edge. Now, a few replacements have appeared, in the form of abstract lumps covered with a bronze-like finish (I have spent some time staring at and running my hand over it to try and figure it out, but the presence of men with semi-automatic rifles made me a tad apprehensive about detailed inspection), likely some type of anodized aluminum. They are clevely chamfered in an asymettrical pattern so that if they are rotated, two adjacent barriers look unique (two or three are adequate to clog a sidewalk). They are an improvement over the various form of planter the city has used elsewhere, but, again, their presence is mandated by an unenlightened attitude about vehicular traffic, and thus are condemned to look instrusive and fundamentally ugly (given what prompts their use and how they function).
You can also see what an example of what the checkpoint booth of the future looks like at the intersection of Nassau and Pine Streets. These weatherproof lean-tos (if I’m going to continue to write about downtown, I really need to become more conversant in this security jargon) come in a wide variety, from ugly to uglier. Surely, budget concerns and the belief that someday they can be removed mandate spartan digs, but perhaps the city can force the winners of the street furiture RFP to come up with something better. The Nassau Street version looks like it was recycled from the cheapest aluminum windows they could find, finished in that shade of brown that makes you think whomever first spec’d it really actually hated making windows. Aside from its unfortunate color, uninspired form, and bland detailing, there isn’t much good to say about it, except that painting the barricades themselves black doesn’t help their appearance either. But if someone thinks this is a good idea, then they should factory finish the metal so it doesn’t look like it was brush-painted on-site.
And a note to the Park Row activists: the police must be taking everyone’s anger seriously. Temporary barriers constructed on Pearl Street are being replaced by surface-mounted curbs with standard park (black, wrought iron) fencing. If you look closely, you can tell it could be removed without too much fanfare, but at a distance it really looks like they found themselves a new parking lot. And, really, you should all quiet down. A cop or a fireman can’t properly do his or her job unless they are parking their private vehicle on a sidewalk somewhere.
Spliffy.
Last week, we did a guest spot at Curbed, taking hip shots at the High Line proposals, based on a slide show the Times presented. Now that more images are available, and a show (which I haven’t seen) at the Center for Architecture, through August 14, a more detailed assessment can be made. The additional information has not dramatically changed my initial impressions, so knowing — or not — what I wrote last week has relatively little signifcance here (though review of the images will: I’m not going to commit a lot of space to recounting the particulars of the project).
NB: For the purposes of concision (and my lack of adequate information to claim my annotations would be complete), I refer to each of the projects based on the lead design firm only, and the impressions here are based on more detailed review of the images, not any competition materials.
Diller, Scofidio & Renfro: The predominant motif of their design is both a literal exposure of and formal reference to the incision the High Line makes, and its repetition through materiality (the structural members that run parallel to its length and the rails they will be supplanting). The exposure includes cantilevering the tail ends of structural members at the Gansevort terminus — maybe. The most glaring weakness of this proposal is the omission of structural members and other construction details where they are clearly necessary (such as handrails) which obscures the intent of the more dramatic interventions, such as an ampitheater that soars into the air sans any significant structural support. In some instances, the lack of detail isn’t relevant, but for those signature pieces, the appeal of this entry would be severely compromised, as the elements aren’t particularly striking less the engineering showmanship. The other place the presentation technique significantly compromises itself is the (rightly) derided vignettes of potential use, one of which might be a De La Guarda performance, or simply a rendering with people bizarrely shown hanging from the sides of adjacent buildings.
The long strands of vegetation and interstitial concrete are intriguing, but the overall impression is that lines were inscribed on a site map, and where they intersected due to shifts in orienatation, an event was attempted visually, then alternating types of plant life were inserted to provide some variety. Of the two times these images succeed, only one can be attributed to design, the aforementioned terminus. The axonometric view displays a simple and striking formal arrangement that is what one typically associates with and expects of their work. The other is the perspective view of what I believe is in the vicinty of Chelsea Market. It displays little in the way of design whatsoever, but is one of the few views in any of the submissions that reveals how satisfying opening this space up to pedestrian only access can be.
Steven Holl: Holl is the sentimental favorite, a local who has had only limited opportunity to exercise his considerable talents, and who also happens to be the person who should be credited with first publicizing the idea of transforming the High Line through adaptive reuse, way back in 1981, publishing a project for a Bridge of Houses (along with one for Melbourne, Australia).
So it’s not surprising, given the long gestation, that his submission is at once the most plausible and perhaps the most compelling as well. Understanding just how fruitless pursuing a visionary concept can be (his original proposal wasn’t simply a formal gesture, but also included an analysis of costs provided mixed-income options), he qualified his option as being eminently viable, with almost a quarter being realizable in the near-term, for less than the budget the High Line currently is projecting. His images don’t necessarily project a consciously inexpensive solution. There a number of rather dramatic interventions, but the pragmatic requirements (an entry ramp and plaza) have a very elegant simplicity without seeming obvious or cheap. He also takes pains to illustrate almost every view with how people would interact with the project specifically, showing use that doesn’t drastically segregate path and planting. The weakest element is the terminus, which has a stair tower (possibly the portion developed by Vito Acconici) that spirals up with an odd and rigid geometry, while being overgrown with plant life. It certainly accomplishes the goal of providing a view, but it does not exactly resonate they way many of his very simple formal gestures do. But this is not unusual — many of his most commanding works did not immediately communicate their potential in drawing form.
Zaha Hadid: Perhaps the Archinect folks decided to do an abbreviated presentation of Hadid’s concept. Maybe there is more to be seen at the show. But from there is to see, it’s hard to discern an actual response to the program requirements. Instead, it is seems to be one of those force-fit situations where the designer was predisposed to deliver an idea that was going to work, no matter how awkward the intervention. Granted, the images aren’t necessarily awkward (not at least by her standards), but simply aloof. The two places where attention is lavished are those most detached from the High Line itself: the terminus structure (which is entirely new, unlike the other participants), and an elaborate access/entry ramp (at 18th Street, currently a surface parking lot; Holl also has an entry here, so imaginably some additional property acquisition was part of the program). The existing structure barely turns up in the renderings, and then only to serve as a background datum upon which her trademark angular slabs are spun, overlaid, or subtracted. Her attitude about the extant site is most evident in terminus, where a new plaza in constructed directly above the rail bed, which is awkwardly incorporated into a glass sheathed space that is likely a lobby. If the judging was based on what creating an interesting large scale interventions to be randomly sewn into the city, this might be a viable entry (albeit one I still wouldn’t find that compelling), but as a response to the preservation and evolution of the High Line, well, maybe she lost the competition brief.
TerraGRAM: TerraGRAM’s images stand out, not simply because of their decision to mask them all as a circle, but because they don’t look like some Ridley Scott dystopian night (granted, in Holl’s scheme, his use of black and white photography to provide contrast of the design intervention only incidentally causes this). In their High Line vision, the sun shines, and for this alone one might be inclined to give it favor. Their design relies heavily on vegetation, and the sunflowers (which they argue will help reclaim the vitality of the soil) that dominate the southern terminus are vaguely threatening (sort of like a Residents performance gone haywire). The little they show of their planting scheme is unfortunately a sort of industrial English garden: a lot of look and don’t touch, as the pathway meanders through seemingly isolated pockets of planting. I’m predisposed against guided pathways in any form, and these lack any sense of freeform pedetrian ownership of the space. Granted, they only show two views, but both are pretty spartan in terms of furniture and don’t seem real respectful of the typical way groups of people like to meander (side-by-side, rather than in single file).
They show a nice treatment of the underside, in terms of organization and detail, but from what I can piece together in the FAQ at the High Line site, it seems most of the private property
beneath the structure will remain that, with little control over what goes on. So the parade of parking lots and taxi support services will remain, obviating the nice, bright passage way they project. Their terminus is straightforward, and consequently pretty successful, accomplishing with little fanfare what is the desire of anyone who inhabits or perambulates the city: a heightened vantage point with maximum glazing.
UPDATE: Links have been modified to point to the complete presentation boards at the High Line site.
But who will think of the developers?
Sure, everyone worries about the children. But what about John Zuccotti? He can’t buy any love, though I am sure he is trying. Brookfield Properties, owning what might prove to be the largest white elephant in downtown (right after Larry Silverstein), the World Financial Center, found out Thursday that their hope for a West St. tunnel was all wet, when Gov. Pataki emerged from a kayak ride on the Hudson to announce he wasn’t going to drive the decision making. Given that CB1 got off the dime and voted no on the tunnel, that only leaves the LMDC, which (even though Zuccotti is a committee member) will be hard pressed to fly in the face of CB1. The reason there isn’t a whole lot of support is that it’s an expensive alternate to grade level improvement (about six times as much), and the net benefits are neglible to most residents, as 90% of the frontage that will be directly connected to downtown is commercial, namely Zuccotti’s WFC. Most residential zones are north or south, and their connection points would likely become more dangerous, as residents fear the tunnel will encourage speeding (have you ever take a cab down the FDR and into the Battery Tunnel? You know what they mean).
Meanwhile, the upside for Brookfield is huge: their retail (which has been struggling one way or another since the complex opened) would be an easy walk from the huge tourist impact of the memorial, and basically any other amenities constructed would be their front door. And they could certainly use it. Even though they are currently reporting near 100% occupancy, and they’ve even managed to get some rah rah press touting this, there actually hasn’t been much occassion to test their long-term viability, as most of their major lessees don’t come up for renewal until 2005. Their major tenants, Dow Jones, Lehman Brothers and Merrill Lynch are warehousing or subleasing big chunks of their space (not that this is unusual, but given the slow drip of financial services relocations away from downtown, they might not find it necessary to retain such large portfolios in the future). Others who returned after the damage from the WTC attack did so with generous subsidies from the city and state. When most of the major leases come up for renewal they will be competing directly with almost 4 million square feet (the WFC towers comprise just under double that) of Class A space across the street that will be very aggressively marketed. It’s certainly provactive to claim that a property that is 99.5% rented is on the verge of being a disaster, but small shifts can have a major impact. Just ask the folks who sold Brookfield their downtown portfolio (which also includes One Liberty Plaza, which is on the other side of the WTC site), Olympia & York.
Unsophisticated, but well endowed.
Well, we already knew that Glenn Lowry thinks you are a provincal overachiever (but he respects your Montessori education). Turns out he also thinks you are rich. Michael Kimmelman did what looks like a real piece of criticism (I had to look twice to make sure it was the Times), assessing the state of New York museums, and revealed that our new, hung, MoMA will set you back $20 bucks. I’d make some blow job/Times Square sort of joke, except that would give Mr. Lowry some ammunition to call me juvenile.
We do what we can.
Because the idea of coalescing ten pages of notes is daunting, and the press of time and relevance, and the fact that Felix has done hell of a job providing a succinct and thorough recap (posting before I even got off the subway) of the New York New Visions panel Wednesday morning on the state of the WTC site, I’m only going to add some sporadic comments. Make sure to read his piece if you are interested in what the big picture looks like — or doesn’t given the seeming indeterminacy of many major points.
A. First, this panel was advertised as ‘off-the-record’, I don’t think it is unfair to reiterate points I have already made, most of which were not clarified by yesterday’s session. And no one will be attirbuted (even though the AIA taped the event).
1. Who is in charge? Well, that would seem obvious — the PANYNJ and, through them, Silverstein, but this still is not something people want to state directly. I suspect financing is the rub here (if Silverstein expects a big handout, shouldn’t the public have a say?). Much was said about discussion and committees and whatnot, but each time a presenter testified to the ongoing dialog, it stuck me as vacuous, since there is, after all, a major peice of construction underway. Speaking about ill-defined program discussions that may eventually drive a physical plan is an interesting abstraction, but shouldn’t they be working against projected Freedom Tower workplan and how it will enforce a level of decision-making? The takeaway here is that someone (if one comment is illustrative, the blame would be laid squarely at the feet of our coat-carrying governor) has mandated a schedule for the Freedom Tower that does not jibe with program development for the rest of the site, even at the literal expense of having to retrofit the Freedom Tower into the final master site plan.
2. Who will be doing this was even more unclear. Libeskind apparently still has some sort of relationship that is intended to vet the progress of new structures (one thing that was cleared up was that design guidelines for the cultural facilities are currently being written and are expected to be released in RFQ or RFP form in the coming months), and he clearly has his head and heart in the right place about that, but who (in the form of the ‘client’) will then enforce his recommendations was not explicated. It’s crucial, since there was a lot of very austute dicussion about footprint versus diagram and how that would affect traffic, particularly in how people would circulate to and from the PATH station (both tourists and commuters). The below grade plan reveals both the complexity of the programming decisions and its awkwardeness. Just orienting the concourse for the PATH station and the new buildings would be a challenge. When you add to that the mostly below-grade memorial, and the 50% below-grade retail you start to realize how dramatic some of the juxtapositions will be. Can people enter the memorial from the PATH platform? A memorial that is dogmatic in its circulation fails more often than not, so it would seem impossible to mandate exiting the concourse to get to the Memorial. The other option, marching past Au Bon Pain and the Gap, is even less attractive.
3. The introduction of Calatrava was possibly a craven desire to get a high impact concept model in front of a public that was angry at the tepid proposals (which may or may not be a fair characterization; it may have been a poor articulation of them actually doing a fair job) from Beyer Blinder Belle. The only evidence I have for this conclusion is that there were conflicting comments about what is going on now — it is either being ‘scaled-down’ or it is being adjusted becuase his initial schematics were based on inadequate information. Additionally, beyond the dramatic image of the entry hall, there doesn’t seem to be much resolution about anything: circulation, entry condition (one or two significant entry points), distribution of services and what will consitute the ‘great hall’ (either the at-grade entry or subterrenean concourse). I tend to be highly critical of the work of Gehry and Calatrava because I suspect their primary interest is egocentric form manipulation that they then assign others to plug program into. What I heard yesterday does not contradict this assumption.
4. The general hestitation and equivocation about decisions reflects poorly on one person: Pataki. We need to blame someone, and I’ll start here. The people in that room had a real good idea about the fluidity of the puzzle the are trying to assemble, and they are working with major portions still in great flux. The tool they really need is time. And they have very little, which will result in cost overruns, causing the site to be trapped in partial or constant construction for perhaps as much as a two decades, and attenuating even further the already minimal design quality that exist in many areas. The best example of how this plays out is the two big ‘holes’ (conceptual and physical) that represent Towers 4 and 5. Only in the past four weeks has the state of their financing been resolved (there is none), but a plan was already in place that was trying to accomodate their infrastructure needs and integrate them into already very crowded support services planning. But now, no one knows when or how they can be built, so what is the alternate? Build temporary retail or public buildings at grade so 30% of the site isn’t enveloped in construction fencing while the city waits (and let’s be honest, the original WTC was a steal for the first twenty years it was in business; only in the late 90’s did it even start to become competitive in the downtown market, and it’s not likely we will see those conditions again anytime soon) hopelessly for a market that won’t come? Not building the infrastructure would be short-sighted (even more so than the perhaps foolish belief that the space is needed at all), but if it takes 20 years to fill that hole, then it isn’t. All these decisions need to be rendered because Pataki wants ‘steel in the sky’ by 2006 because he has political aspirations, not because there is anything else to be gained by accelerating the project (as opposed to the addition of a committed tenant). This isn’t a radically new way for politicians to operate, but rarely has the evidence of such egocentric and thoughtless mandates been so clearly evident.
5. The focus on trying to fit the puzzle together has clearly prevented the people at that table from addressing the planning issues the site creates. That, or there needs to be another panel that reviews the macro planning issues that are going on independent of this gruop. Budget issues and the reality that they are working within a very dense and mostly immutable urban district, along with a lack of wherewithal for good planning practice (not much steel in the sky from a traffic calming plan), means that most of the traffic problems the site will create are not being addressed. Some of them are very typical and only the idealist — me and the RPA — really expect them to be resolved (every time a new large building is constructed, taxi and car service access becomes a problem). Others, such the routing a much larger number of buses into the downtown core than have ever been historically evident, and the loss of several access points for trucks, along with the attendant issue of increased security review, are likewise being addressed in only the most cursory way (at the regional planning level; the problems created by the buses are very evident in the streets bounding the site, but if you are waiting until you get to that point to plan, it’s too late). And, overall, it seems to be an accepted and unchangable assumption that the return of the street grid was barely considered to be an opportunity to create pedestrian malls. Instead, it’s cars, cars, and more cars.
I agree with Felix’s observation that the panel was representative of some very capable people. And these issues will be resolved, but my experience with designing in the context of large committees means that the force of time and circumstance will dictate many decisions, and that is typically indicative of a lack of a center (either a good leader or a well-constructed committee). The most quietly troubling thing I heard was one observation that in the end, not all these decisions can be made by consensus. I understand, and even agree with that sentiment at times, but there is a marked difference between tempering a decision thoughtfully because all the interested parties have worked to compromise their disparate interests and letting the powerless yammer until you get tired and then move forward with a decision that was rendered in absence of their valid input.
That’s funny, cause I send all my checks to South Dakota.
Following up with plan to bail on downtown, Citigroup unveiled plans for a new building across the street from its Queen’s Plaza location, the Daily News reports. A Citigroup flack notes “We have our single largest, most profitable business – our credit card business – headquartered right here.” (flack? well, okay, president).
No one is credited with the design and it’s just as well. If the photo is any indication, it will be as bad as everything else Citigroup has done. Hell, they probably only merged with Travelers because their headquarters was as appreciably unattractive as the sore thumb out there in Queens. They should walk down the street and check out what MetLife has done. It’s not much more than standard fare contract interior on the inside, but the exterior isn’t a blight on the skyline either.
Lobster, wine glasses, and nary a building in sight.
We’re going to take the day off, topically speaking, to delve into areas better left to those typically showing more breadth and depth. But we wanted to point you, to, of all things, emanations from the Conde Nast empire, namely, the August issue of Gourmet.
In it, you will find some writing that seems so out of place for what anyone might be inclined to dismiss as a basically a sleeve for food porn and product placement that it verges on stunning: David Foster Wallace offers thoughts on the Maine Lobster Festival, musing on, in great detail — and in a way that makes us appreciate his writing syle in a way that hundreds of slavish write-ups could not — the possbility that cooking lobster is barbarity on par with the moral and social structure of the Romans and Mayans, and an article about the purported significance of design in wine glasses being basically bunko (with hilarious asides about such research blinds that included adding food coloring to a white wine and convincing professional tasters it was a red). Aside from the fact that both of these articles attack many of the implicit assumptions about the life of the gourmand head on, they are also sharp and intelligent writing.