Although today’s hottest architectural trend lies in adaptive reuse, New York City wasn’t always as focused on saving our city’s landmarks. Some historic locations couldn’t go away fast enough, such as the memorable City Hall Post Office, and other locations we still miss, such as Penn Station.
These days, the question of whether or not a building stands is usually determined by the public’s memory of the building and the importance that we attach to its past. In a city that drives the future, it can be hard to focus clearly on our past. Here’s a reminder of some of the important buildings and landmarks New York City has seen come and go.
Apthorp Mansion
A number of gorgeous, historic mansions used to dot the country setting in the Upper West Side, including the Charles W. Schwab mansion, which held a pool, bowling alley, gym, and three elevators. However, none are quite so enigmatic as the Apthorp Mansion, demolished in 1891.
The Apthorp Mansion, known as “Elmwood,” was built in 1764 for Charles Ward Apthorp, the son of a Boston-based loyalist merchant. His property included a whopping 168 acres just west of 91st and Columbus Ave., overlooking the Hudson and the New Jersey Palisades.
While the property was impressive, images of the house look rather small by our modern standards. Sure, it was a large Colonial, but its interior only included three rooms on the first floor, three more rooms on the second floor, and nine small rooms for servants in the attic. Six rooms and an attic with nine servant’s rooms was significant for the era and the Apthorp Mansion was lauded as “among the grandest on the island.”
The American Revolution ended 14 years prior to Apthorp’s death and the war did not bode well for the rich, loyalist merchant, who was secretly funneling money and supplies to the British troops. Apthorp’s mansion was requisitioned by both British and American forces during the war, and he was charged with high treason after the war. He was never imprisoned for treason, and instead was allowed to live the rest of his life at his New York estate. After his death, the land dispute over his 168 acres stretched on for more than a century.
During the dispute, the mansion fell into terrible disrepair. During that time, the lands became the site for a military parade grounds, a picnic ground with a beer and dance saloon, and one of the sites of the vicious Orange Riots in 1870. The building was finally demolished in 1891, but the dispute over the land continued until 1910. What remains of the estate is The Apthorp, a grand apartment building built in 1908 on the site of the original house.
St. Nicholas Hotel
Once located on Broadway between Broome and Spring, the St. Nicholas Hotel was the centerpiece of New York opulent living in the mid 1800s. Opened on Jan. 6, 1853 to international acclaim, the hotel featured lavish, luxurious apartments and was the first New York building to cost $1.2 million in construction (approximately $29 million today).
The hotel rose six stories high and spanned an entire city block once completed. Its incredible marble and gilt interiors initiated the still-current trend of upscale living in well-appointed hotels instead of far-off country mansions. (This trend continued with the also-lost Alwyn Court’s luxurious apartments.)
Amenities in the hotel included a barbershop that could serve 12 patrons at once, a 400-guest dining room with chandeliers that each held 20 gas lights, custom carpeting that was woven in a single piece (with upholstery to match), and the first bridal suite ever invented – all at moderate prices and in a convenient location.
The St. Nicholas was also a wonder of modern technology. Every room had hot and cold water, along with gas, and each suite marvelously contained “a bath-room and a water-closet.” Though the rooms held fireplaces, the entire building had central heat that was powered by three iron boilers. In addition, each room had an innovative call system that resembled a modern buzzer panel.
The amenities weren’t just for the guests however. Employees also worked with the latest equipment including a modern kitchen with ranges, ovens, roasting furnaces, and a steam table to pre-warm all the dishware, and it was all powered by the hotel’s personal gasworks. The basement contained a six-horse-power washing and drying machine that could wash up to 5,000 pieces of laundry per day with a single operator.
Unfortunately, though the hotel remained in luxurious service, the entertainment district moved north. Tourists moved north with it.
By May 1, 1884, nearly all of the St. Nicholas Hotel was demolished and only a sliver remains at 521 and 523 Broadway, where retail stores occupy the first floor and luxury condos fill the rest of the building.
Vanderbilt Mansion
In addition to the well-known Petit Chateau on 5th Avenue, which was built by Alva Vanderbilt, the wife of William K. Vanderbilt, the city housed another opulent Vanderbilt mansion: the home of Cornelius Vanderbilt II. This mansion was built in 1882 and located at what is now 742-748 5th Avenue (Bergdorf Goodman).
After Cornelius II inherited $5 million from his father, the Commodore (Cornelius Vanderbilt), he decided to demolish three brownstones on the block, so he could build what was recognized as the largest single-family home in New York City.
Though the mansion was spacious and well appointed, Cornelius II’s wife, Alice, reportedly didn’t want to be outdone by her sister-in-law’s Petit Chateau. She decided to enlarge the mansion again in the 1890s by knocking down another five adjacent brownstones and expanding the house further.
According to contemporaries, the house was chilly and uncomfortable, built more for show than for luxury, and it was eventually demolished in 1926.
However, parts of the Cornelius Vanderbilt mansion still exist: the entrance gates can be found in Central Park, the elegant fireplace is now displayed in the Metropolitan Museum of Art, and sculptural reliefs from the porte cochere now grace the lobby of the Sherry-Netherland Hotel.
What Will Soon Be Lost?
The places in this article are grand and imposing, and they offer everyone in the city something to muse on. However, as we all know, no one can understand New York City as a whole – it can only be understood in bits and pieces, neighborhood by neighborhood.
Earlier this year, Curbed wrote a great piece about the soon-to-be-lost buildings that offer us an anchor to smaller, yet still-important parts of our city’s past: a lost Native American bar, an important landmark in punk-rock history, one of the last federal-style houses in NYC. The Curbed article reminds us that everything is potentially a landmark – it simply depends on the memory we all ascribe to it.
As architects and designers, we have a sacred task to not only bring forth the city’s future, but also to honor its heritage. As you’re planning your next project, consider how you can pay homage to the past as you’re shaping the future.
Adaptive reuse is one way to honor the past, but we have more options as well. It’s up to us to connect our rich traditions of bygone years with our innovations for the years to come.
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