The old Penn Station, mentioned in passing in the article, was apparently incredibly beautiful and aesthetically a rival to Grand Central Station (which itself barely escaped becoming the home of an office tower [0]). For those interested Mashable had a great article that featured some spectacular photographs of the old Penn station [1].
The tearing down of old Penn Station is what kickstarted the movement to preserve historical buildings. Grand Central almost certainly would have met the same fate, had Penn Station's destruction not served as a wakeup call.
>Today, Americans have grown more cautious; when it comes to old buildings, we now have laws at our disposal that allow us to designate and preserve what we value. Yet the enactment of such laws, at such a late stage, illustrates how the Singer’s fate coincided with another milestone: an end to the idea that American industry might be trusted to build permanent things, without answering to the deeper values of law or community or tradition.
Given the state of American cities, I wouldn't say this has worked out. American cities are defined by preservation: of property values and of plentiful free parking. These laws are used to prevent change of any kind. Building a neighbourhood on par with great American neighbourhoods like Beacon Hill and SoHo is basically impossible.
We spend so much space on parking. Our local hospitals most recent achievement is a new parking lot. More floor-space than the rest of hospital, and bigger in footprint than all the rest of the campus. Future archaeologists will probably think we were a society of sentient cars that kept people as pets.
"This animated short proposes what many earthlings have long feared -- that the automobile has inherited the planet. When life on Earth is portrayed as one long, unending conga-line of cars, a crew of extra-terrestrial visitors understandably assume they are the dominant race. While humans, on the other hand, are merely parasites. An Oscar® nominee, this film serves as an entertaining case study."
>Although Ford had taken great care to blend into Earth society, he had "skimped a bit on his preparatory research," and thought that the name "Ford Prefect" would be "nicely inconspicuous." Ford "had simply mistaken the dominant life form." The Ford Prefect was, in fact, a British car manufactured in the 1950s. When he first arrived on Earth, Ford was almost run over while attempting to greet a blue Ford Prefect. He was saved by Arthur and this is how the pair meet.
It's impractical to make 'another Beacon Hill' because Boston only has three hills. The other two are occupied by the North End and the Financial District. This problem predates the automobile and parking, e.g. the Back Bay 'is no Beacon Hill' but was developed in the 19th century as the Shawmut Peninsula was expanded by dredging.
In some ways an 'efficient market' model is helpful. The 'best' places for new neighborhoods are likely to be developed first simply because that's where the benefits of investment are most likely to be realized. Beacon Hill is Beacon Hill because there already was a North End. And the North End is not only a much better neighborhood its magic is even less reproducible than Beacon Hill's.
Following the 'efficient market' model further, there's no abundance of undeveloped natural harbors offering the geographic and historic advantages of Boston. There's no Beacon Hill (let alone North End) in Miami, but you can get a version of the Back Bay. San Francisco has several 'Beacon Hills' and 'Back Bays' but still no North End...Spanish practice was optimized for efficiency. It used the grid.
The reason Boston is so poorly planned is because during the time period where they should have realized their town was growing and they should invest in a plan for how future development should go (say 1650-1750) the people of Boston were too busy enforcing their religious authoritarianism to bother with such earthly matters as civic planning.
I personally think they should rename the hills Moe, Larry and Curly (obviously with Beacon Hill being Curly). It would be far more fitting for what goes on in Boston.
American cities are defined by preservation because they were largely abandoned by all but the poorest for the last several decades. Plus, without public transit and the will to build it, there's no alternative to automobiles
We've absolutely gone overboard. But certainly there's some balance that could be struck where we can keep the FEW truly unique and beautiful treasures without marking entire neighborhoods as closed to development.
> Today, Americans have grown more cautious; when it comes to old buildings, we now have laws at our disposal that allow us to designate and preserve what we value. Yet the enactment of such laws, at such a late stage, illustrates how the Singer’s fate coincided with another milestone: an end to the idea that American industry might be trusted to build permanent things
Ironically if preservation laws were there in 1908 then the Singer building would likely never have been built because it would mean demolishing some old two-story building in the "historic downtown financial district".
Indeed. But there's necessarily some judgement in these things, and it's very very hard to judge the 60's concrete blocks as superior to the best works of 1906.
I think it's just another irony of history: At all times, people tend to be ambivalent about contemporary buildings, while they hate buildings of the previous generation (50 years old) and love everything older than 100 years. You just have to read what people have said in the past, and you recognize this pattern.
You really believe this? That the only difference between the old Penn station and the new one is that we aren't quite nostalgic enough about the new one yet? It's already older than the other one ever was.
Some eras built grand public buildings as symbols of their pride and progress. Some knocked them down.
yes. i really believe that. ill be the rare voice to say i like current penn station. i like that smell that i think comes from the breaks of commuter trains. i like the simple linear layout. i like the shops that line the mezzanine of the lirr.
but most of all i like penn station because it reminds of a time before the divorce when i would come into the city by train with my father.
whats my point here? my point is that weve deluded ourselves into thinking we have architectual taste when really all we have is nostalgia on a societal scale. whatever buildings were most cost effective to make during high times eventually become the definition of good. its only obvious to me because i have the misfortune to see my fav building shit on by every "expert".
Certainly affection for things you have a personal connection to is different. For most of us this applies to certain foods, and certain paintings, books, too.
Maybe my point is that it's not just "whatever buildings were most cost effective to make" -- those I agree come in many flavors. But Penn station was nothing like that. It was a grand and very expensive statement of confidence, permanence, and belief in the virtue of public space. Of the idea that the plebs catching the train would notice and appreciate the classical features. There were many many such statements made at that time.
At the time Penn was buily Long Island was still a place for the rich (think great gatsby) and the PRR lines to other cities were still an expensive affair. Travel was not a commonplace thing like airplanes today.
GCT and NYP werent built for the civic enjoyment of the plebs out of the kindness of Vanderbelt et al. Quite the opposite in fact. They were built so that the railroad and its rich clients could show off just how far above the plebs they really are. They built monuments to themselves greater than any church built to god. It wasnt faith in the public it was a middle finger to it, just like salesforce tower is today.
For something to become history, it must survive history first. 50 years old is just their parents and possibly grand parents. 100 years old is probably great grandparents, but mostly everyone that age is dead. It is a time completely foreign to their childhood. Some buildings can be historical when they are built, for example weird or innovative designs, but they too must survive the test of time. If they were built like crap, they'll fall apart and be torn down due to excessive costs.
In fairness to the powers that dismantled the building, Singer itself was probably on the ropes or well on its way, at least in the sewing machine market. Postwar, the sewing machine market at the low end was flooded with import clones of the classic Singer 15 (see next paragraph), and zigzag machines from abroad were taking a bite out of the higher end of their market[0]. Combine that fact with the fact the needle work industries had left NYC at that point, and it probably made sense to demo the Singer building. All that said, I do wish it was still there to see.
I own a Singer 15. In a residential setting, it'll keep doing what it does well for another 200 years with a little care. It isn't an industrial machine, but if you can't do it once on a 15, it's even odds it can't be done at all. All that said, it's a straight-stitch only machine; they aren't technically complex (for a sewing machine). The imports I've seen are also excellent machines.
But lots of buildings find new owners, new uses. Was the building that specialised for sewing-machines? It seems a crying shame to have lost so many of the highlights of an era.
I recommend the book Lost New York by Nathan Silver, to anyone interested in these lost architectural icons of New York City.
It was originally written in the midst of the NYC preservation debate of late 1960s, which resulted from the destruction of buildings like the Singer building, the old Met Opera House, and especially Penn Station.
[0] http://gothamist.com/2016/05/25/fred_papert_grand_central.ph...
[1] https://mashable.com/2015/07/20/original-penn-station/#NAhQI...
The tearing down of old Penn Station is what kickstarted the movement to preserve historical buildings. Grand Central almost certainly would have met the same fate, had Penn Station's destruction not served as a wakeup call.
Given the state of American cities, I wouldn't say this has worked out. American cities are defined by preservation: of property values and of plentiful free parking. These laws are used to prevent change of any kind. Building a neighbourhood on par with great American neighbourhoods like Beacon Hill and SoHo is basically impossible.
"This animated short proposes what many earthlings have long feared -- that the automobile has inherited the planet. When life on Earth is portrayed as one long, unending conga-line of cars, a crew of extra-terrestrial visitors understandably assume they are the dominant race. While humans, on the other hand, are merely parasites. An Oscar® nominee, this film serves as an entertaining case study."
We will miss you Douglas Adams.
In some ways an 'efficient market' model is helpful. The 'best' places for new neighborhoods are likely to be developed first simply because that's where the benefits of investment are most likely to be realized. Beacon Hill is Beacon Hill because there already was a North End. And the North End is not only a much better neighborhood its magic is even less reproducible than Beacon Hill's.
Following the 'efficient market' model further, there's no abundance of undeveloped natural harbors offering the geographic and historic advantages of Boston. There's no Beacon Hill (let alone North End) in Miami, but you can get a version of the Back Bay. San Francisco has several 'Beacon Hills' and 'Back Bays' but still no North End...Spanish practice was optimized for efficiency. It used the grid.
I personally think they should rename the hills Moe, Larry and Curly (obviously with Beacon Hill being Curly). It would be far more fitting for what goes on in Boston.
Ironically if preservation laws were there in 1908 then the Singer building would likely never have been built because it would mean demolishing some old two-story building in the "historic downtown financial district".
Some eras built grand public buildings as symbols of their pride and progress. Some knocked them down.
but most of all i like penn station because it reminds of a time before the divorce when i would come into the city by train with my father.
whats my point here? my point is that weve deluded ourselves into thinking we have architectual taste when really all we have is nostalgia on a societal scale. whatever buildings were most cost effective to make during high times eventually become the definition of good. its only obvious to me because i have the misfortune to see my fav building shit on by every "expert".
Maybe my point is that it's not just "whatever buildings were most cost effective to make" -- those I agree come in many flavors. But Penn station was nothing like that. It was a grand and very expensive statement of confidence, permanence, and belief in the virtue of public space. Of the idea that the plebs catching the train would notice and appreciate the classical features. There were many many such statements made at that time.
GCT and NYP werent built for the civic enjoyment of the plebs out of the kindness of Vanderbelt et al. Quite the opposite in fact. They were built so that the railroad and its rich clients could show off just how far above the plebs they really are. They built monuments to themselves greater than any church built to god. It wasnt faith in the public it was a middle finger to it, just like salesforce tower is today.
I own a Singer 15. In a residential setting, it'll keep doing what it does well for another 200 years with a little care. It isn't an industrial machine, but if you can't do it once on a 15, it's even odds it can't be done at all. All that said, it's a straight-stitch only machine; they aren't technically complex (for a sewing machine). The imports I've seen are also excellent machines.
[0] Interesting thread: https://sewing.patternreview.com/SewingDiscussions/topic/561...
It was originally written in the midst of the NYC preservation debate of late 1960s, which resulted from the destruction of buildings like the Singer building, the old Met Opera House, and especially Penn Station.