The 1876 Christ & Saint Stephen's Church -- 122-128 West 69th Street

photo courtesy Landmark West!

In 1880 the Church of the Transfiguration, fondly called The Little Church Around the Corner, commissioned William H. Day in 1880 to design an uptown chapel, to serve the parishioners who moved northward from the Murray Hill area.  Perhaps to make their transition easier, the architect took inspiration from Transfiguration’s charming 1850 building at No. 1 East 29th Street.

That structure, continually added to over the decades, was described by some as “a holy cucumber vine.”  Its low architecture recalled a rural English parish church.  While perhaps not as picturesque, Day’s Transfiguration Chapel, located on West 69th Street near the Boulevard (later Broadway) presented a pastoral image out of place on busy West 69th Street.  The long, low building sat back on a broad lawn.  Its many peaks and gables, its clay tile roof and unassuming bell tower conveyed its connection with the Little Church Around the Corner.

photo courtesy of Landmark West!

Although the chapel was successful, in 1897 the Church of the Transfiguration sought to sell its uptown outpost.  On March 17 The New York Times said “Various reports have been circulated recently as to the future of Transfiguration Chapel, at the Boulevard and Sixty-ninth Street, and Protestant Episcopal church circles in the diocese are wondering what will be the future of this interesting adjust to the up-town work of ‘The Little Church Around the Corner.’”

The article mentioned that St. Stephen’s Church on 46th Street was interested in the property, valued at around $60,000.  (More than $1.9 million today.)  St. Stephen’s congregation had outgrown its building; yet there were obstacles to be overcome. The parishioners of Transfiguration Chapel ardently wished to keep their home and were attempting to raise the money to purchase it from the mother church.  In addition, the neighboring Christ Church, two blocks away, was defiantly opposed to the sale to St. Stephen’s.

“It is contended that there is not room in that district for two churches of the same type of churchmanship,” said The New York Times.  “Both are classed as exponents of the Low Church wing, while the present Transfiguration Chapel belongs to the High Church order, and would, naturally, draw to itself only people of its own way of thinking in the neighborhood.”

The bickering between the church groups was closely followed by the press for weeks until, at last, St. Stephen’s won the right to purchase.  The congregation hired architect J. D. Fouquet to carefully remodel the building while respecting Day’s original design.  Their first service was held on October 3, 1897.

Relations between St. Stephen’s Church and its neighbor, Christ Church, remained strained and in 1905 Christ Church sued St. Stephen’s for infringing on parish boundaries.  The suit was dismissed and the two churches continued in their tense coexistence.

photo by Wurts Bros. from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

Ironically, it was hard times that brought the two groups together in the 1960's.  When the city began work on the massive Lincoln Center complex it used eminent domain to demolish seventeen residential blocks, displacing more than 7,000 families.  At the same time maintenance costs for the church buildings had increased.  With decimated congregations, higher overhead and reduced income, the two parishes realized the necessity to merge.  In 1975 they became Christ & Saint Stephen’s Church.  After nearly a century their uneasy truce became a marriage.

Structural deterioration resulted a ceiling collapse in 2004 which necessitated a total replacement of the ceiling. A complete restoration of the interior followed.  In the process, original 19th century stenciling was discovered.  It was restored in sito and replicated elsewhere in the interior.

The quaint little church still sits behind its low stone wall like a slice of English countryside dropped among Manhattan high rises; a picturesque and surprising treasure.

The Magnificent 1909 Cast Iron Street Clock at 200 Fifth Avenue

For decades the elegant Fifth Avenue Hotel at Fifth Avenue and 23rd Street attracted princes and politicians, moguls and millionaires. Directly in front of its entrance a tall sidewalk clock conveniently told the time to passing businessmen and nannies pushing baby carriages to Madison Square across the avenue.

But, as was common practice, when the Fifth Avenue Hotel left in 1908, the clock went too.

The builders of the Fifth Avenue Building that replaced the hotel at 200 Fifth Avenue wasted no time in erecting a new clock. In the busy neighborhood anchored by the relatively new Flatiron Building across 23rd Street to the south, a street clock was considered essential.

The clocks served several purposes. Not only were they a convenience for the neighboring shoppers and businessmen, they drew attention to the store or building and provided excellent advertisement.

Desiring their clock to be in keeping with the high tone of their new office building, the owners commissioned the esteemed Brooklyn firm of Hecla Iron Works to produce their clock case. Hecka (named after an active volcano in Iceland) had produced the 133 cast iron subway kiosks as well as important cast iron building facades like the B. Altman & Co. Department Store on 6th Avenue and the New York Life Insurance Building.

photo by manhattanvirtualoffice.com

Of the many street clocks on the sidewalks of Manhattan, this one stood out. Installed in 1909 it was one of the most ornate in the city. It sits on a rectangular base with classical ornamentation, a fluted Ionic column rising to a capital inspired by the work of 16th Century Venetian architect Vioncenzo Scamozzi. The two large dials which advertised Fifth Avenue Building are encircled by oak leaf wreaths. To make the cast iron clock even more a work of art, it was then gilded.

The clock was wound about every eight days; a weight within the column slowly descending the full length. More recently, the mechanism was replaced with an automatic one.

In 2011 the clock was completely restored by the Electric Time Company, Inc. of Medfield, Massachusetts.  The eight-month restoration was sponsored by Tiffany & Co.

A technician works on the eight-month restoration of the Fifth Avenue street clock in 2011 -- photo courtesy Electric Time Company, Inc.

Throughout the 20th Century Manhattan’s many street clocks fell victim to auto accidents, neglect and sidewalk improvements until now only a handful remain. The well-maintained and magnificent example in front of 200 Fifth Avenue was deemed by the Landmarks Preservation Commission in 1981 “a gilded cast-iron masterpiece.”

Photo Jim Henderson

Titanic to Dot-Com - The Bowling Green Offices Building 5-11 Broadway

Bowling Green Offices Building 1900 -- NYPL Collection

On the afternoon of January 23, 1909 nervous relatives and friends of passengers on the White Star Line’s "The Republic" crowded into 11 Broadway, the steamship company’s offices. Sketchy reports had been received that The Republic had been rammed in the fog 26 miles off Nantucket by the Italian liner, "Florida." The New York Times’ headline told the story: “Throng at White Star Office Seeking Information on Loved Ones in Danger.”

All passengers were transferred to another ship and were safe; however the incident was a haunting precursor to a coming disaster.

The building where the White Star Line did business was relatively new. As the 19th Century ground to a close, the New York Central and Harlem River Railroad Company’s freight depot sat across from Bowling Green at the base of Broadway where, years earlier, the Atlantic Gardens, a Victorian amusement spot had stood.

In 1895 Stacy C. Richmond purchased the site and, with four other businessmen, formed the Broadway Realty Company with intentions of erecting a major office building. To design it, the group commissioned the relatively unknown architectural firm of W. & G. Audsley – two Scottish brothers, William James and George Ashdown, who had immigrated from London three years earlier.

The developers wanted a state-of-the art show-stopper. When it was completed three years and $1.8 million later in 1898, it was exactly that. With an imposing gray granite base, the white brick Bowling Green Building Offices Building at 5-11 Broadway rose 16 stories above the park. White terra cotta ornamentation graced the façade, termed “Hellenic Renaissance” by the Audsleys. It was, they said, “a free but pure treatment of ancient Greek architecture.” A central court provided ventilation and light; and the latest conveniences such as electricity and elevators quickly attracted tenants. On the upper floors were a restaurant and private sleeping quarters with sweeping views of the harbor.

Because of its location at the base of “Steamship Row” and its convenient proximity to The Customs House, the building filled with steamship companies and related businesses; The White Star Line, The American Line, The Merchant Marine Committee of the Whole and the offices of the U.S. Navy’s Supervisor of Shipbuilding, were early tenants.

Representing non-steamship concerns was the office of The Central Council of the National Sound Money League. Here, on March 28, 1899, representatives nationwide met to vote on the proposed gold standard for the dollar. In 1906, the Erie Railroad Company took the third through fifth floors – approximately 76,000 square feet of office space.

Bowling Green Offices Building - 1918

At 8:20 pm on April 12, 1912, only three years after the scare of "The Republic," The White Star Line announced that the largest ocean liner in the world, "The Titanic," had struck an iceberg and sunk. On April 17 The New York Times reported “From early dawn yesterday until early this morning The White Star offices in Bowling Green were besieged by relatives and friends of persons known to be on the ill-fated Titanic. It was an orderly but pathetic crowd of men and women, and there was not a moment when a tear-stained face was not scanning anxiously the printed lists of known survivors that were posted on the bulletin board.”

The White Star offices were crowded “from booking rail to booking rail” and the park across the street was filled with agonized friends and relatives.

“The crowd increased in size so rapidly,” said The Times, “that the four policemen detailed to duty in front of the steamship offices asked for reinforcements. Two mounted policemen were then ordered to duty in front of the offices…”

Three years later, on September 3, 1915, seven elevators simultaneously fell within the Bowling Green Offices, “creating a panic and giving their passengers a bad shaking up,” as reported in the newspapers. Seven months later, in April, four elevators plummeted again.

“More the twenty persons, most of them women, were badly frightened, and Isaac Liebman of 411 Christopher Avenue, East New York, suffered a broken leg,” said The New York Times. The newspaper blamed Liebman for his injury, saying that the elevator operator, when he realized the cab was falling, instructed the passengers “to bend their knees so as to neutralize the shock when the car reach the bottom. Liebman was the only one who did not follow his advice.”

Between 1919 and 1920, a four-story tower was added, designed by Ludlow & Peabody. The firm’s design, so conscientiously sympathetic to the original, is imperceptible.

Towards the end of the 20th Century the hulking building showed its age. Although stock speculator Ivan F. Boesky, who would end his career in disgrace, held 9500 square feet of office space; high-end tenants were moving out. Within a few years the Bowling Green Offices Building would have a mere 10 percent occupancy rate.

Things changed, though, as dot-com businesses sprang up. By early 2000 the building was 98 percent filled; mostly with new internet firms like Commissioner.com, WealthHound.com, Moving.com, and Stockback. Rents more than doubled and the address has regained its lost prestige.

The Bowling Green Offices Building anchors Broadway in what the New York Landmarks Preservation Commission termed “An enormous and beautifully-crafted presence.”
 
 
 
 
 
Photo wirednewyork.com

The 1799 Mount Vernon Hotel - 421 E. 61st Street

photo NYPL Collection

New York is a city of architectural surprises and treasures. On a small rise above a stone wall at No. 421 East 61st Street is a surprising treasure.

The large area of land along the East River where the building now sits was part of a 1676 land grant. In 1795, 23 acres of the property were deeded to Colonel William Stephens Smith, a veteran of the Revolution and the husband of Abigail Adams Smith, daughter of John Adams. The Smiths intended to build their extensive country estate here on what they named “Mount Vernon” in honor of George Washington’s home. Indeed, they began construction of the main house in 1798; but financial problems halted their plans and a year later Smith sold the unfinished building to prosperous merchant William T. Robinson.

Robinson completed the main house and constructed other fine outbuildings, including an impressive carriage house of Manhattan schist along what would become East 61st Street. Shortly, however, Robinson sold the estate which was converted into a country resort called The Mount Vernon Hotel.

The hotel marketed itself as a pleasant getaway from the stress and congestion of the city. It advertised “excellent facilities for fishing, shooting, and salt-water bathing” and its dining room was renowned for “every day in season soup made from the fine green turtles fattening in a crawl made for that purpose in the East River,” which was a mere 50 feet from the hotel.

The resort and grounds were converted, in 1823, to an academy for girls. Three years later the main building was destroyed by fire and the large property was divided into lots and sold. Joseph Coleman Hart purchased the plot on which the undamaged coach house stood. Hart did an extensive renovation of the building, creating a private residence and in 1833 sold it to Jeremiah Towle. The Towle family lived on in the gracious house for 70 years until, in 1905, his daughters sold it to the Standard Gas Light Company. By now the once-rural and verdant area was crowded with breweries, warehouses and enormous gas tanks; one directly behind the house.

The building at the time of its sale to the Colonial Dames of America - 1924, photo NYPL Collection

Luckily the old house caught the eye of Jane Teller, president of the Society of American Antiquarians, who opened an antiques shop here in 1919. Then, on September 7, 1924, The New York Times reported that “Manhattan’s oldest stone house, built in 1799 by Colonel William Stephens Smith, spared by the British Navy in the East River in the War of 1812, used intermittently as a roadhouse, residence, tenement and soup kitchen, but restored five years ago to provide a background for the sale of early American antiquities, has been sold to the Colonial Dames of America, of which Mrs. H. P. Loomis…is President.”

The group restored the building and grounds, planting an 18th Century-style garden around the house. Recognizing the vague connection to Abigail Adams, they outfitted the rooms with Federal furnishings and opened the building as a house museum, the Abigail Adams Smith Museum. In addition to its function as a museum, for decades the house was used for social teas and high-toned gatherings of Manhattan’s wealthy women.

The Abigail Adams Smith Museum 1932 with towering gas tank behind - photo NYPL Collection

When the American Association of Museums granted accreditation to the museum in 1983, the Colonial Dames of America reassessed its focus. After years of research and planning, the Board of Managers agreed to emphasize, rightfully, the history of the property as the Mount Vernon Hotel. Renamed the Mount Vernon Hotel Museum & Garden, it now interprets for the visitor the resort period of 1826 through 1833.

The museum houses an impressive array of American furniture and decorative arts, items of historical New York importance, period clothing and textiles. Concerts, lectures, and history camps are offered.

In September 2010 the museum initiated a four-year renovation of the historic gardens, including an “edible kitchen garden. The museum, one of only seven surviving 18th Century buildings in Manhattan, is open to the public from 11 am to 4 pm on Thuesdays through Sundays.



Photo Mount Vernon Hotel Museum & Gardens

Richard Upjohn's 1851 Trinity Chapel -- The Serbian Cathedral of St. Sava

photo by Beyond My Ken

It was, as The New York Times called it in 1914, “distinctly fashionable to be married there, it was eminently respectable to be buried from there."  Here were married Rhinelanders and Gardiners. Edith Wharton walked down the aisle here. Between 1887 and 1895 there were three Astor funerals – Mrs. John Jacob Astor, William Astor and Mrs. William Waldorf Astor.

The building was designed in 1851 by Richard Upjohn who, by now, had established a lofty reputation in New York with his Church of the Ascension and the rebuilding of Trinity Church starting in 1839. The Trinity trustees called upon Upjohn to produce a northern outpost – a “chapel of ease” - as the population spread from downtown.  George Templeton Strong noted in 1848 that “The tide of uptown emigration has left the church and its present chapels almost bare of parishioners.”

Spending $30,000 on land, the church provided the architect with a plot extending from West 25th street through to West 26th Street; the scope of which he used to full advantage. Upjohn’s Gothic Revival chapel filled the site, resulting in an interior space of unusual and impressive length of nearly 180 feet. The architect was responsible for the interior decoration as well – the stained glass windows, the polychrome tile floor, intricately carved beams and knee brackets. Light-colored French Caen stone faced the walls and touches of color outlined the truss work above.

"Cancel of Trinity Chapel, New York" by John William Hill, 1856."Chanel of Trinity Chapel, New York" by John William Hill, 1856.  Metropolitan Museum of Art

In 1866, Jacob Wrey Mould designed the enchanting Parish House in the rear at 16 West 26th Street and, in 1870 the Trinity School was erected next door. The buildings created a picturesque and romantic complex.

When former senator Roscoe Conkling died from exposure, having gotten lost in the Great Blizzard of 1888, the church was filled with United States Senators for his funeral. Six years later esteemed justices filled the pews at the funeral of John Jay.

In the late 19th century the interior was slightly redecorated to include color – 80 feet above the floor, a blue ceiling with gold stars was painted and the chancel walls were intricately decorated. But as the turn of the century passed and the gentry moved further up Fifth Avenue, the congregation waned. Richard Upjohn's magnificent St. Thomas Church with its breathtaking interior by John LaFarge at Fifth Avenue and 53rd Street sat conveniently among the brownstone mansions.

In 1914 it appeared that the chapel would be deserted and, quite possibly, demolished.

On January 25, Dr. William T. Manning, rector of the chapel, announced that “The population that the chapel served in the past is moving away in great numbers, and it is no longer possible to carry on efficient church work at this point.”

The New York Times reported that “Probably no tears will be shed over the abandonment of Trinity Chapel.” The newspaper was not being cruel, but frank. “For many years Trinity Chapel was the centre of parish activities and a factor in the development of social New York. But it has long survived its usefulness.”

Although The Times was not enthusiastic about the architecture, saying “it has never been regarded by architects as an interesting or attractive church structure” and projected that Upjohn “probably never thought of making a chapel so far uptown a notable architectural work;” it lamented the potential loss.

photo by Frances Roberts for The New York Times

“Nevertheless, the abandonment of Trinity Chapel justifies one more sigh over the mutability of earthly things. Why must we go on year after year tearing down our famous old buildings? Are we never to cherish sacred associations?”

And yet the chapel staggered on.

With its limited income, the church made few alterations to the interior until, on April 29, 1940, fourteen murals depicting the life of Christ were dedicated. The work of Rachel M. Richardson, the paintings took ten years to complete.

Yet two years later Trinity Church finally put the building complex up for sale. In 1943 the Serbian Orthodox Church purchased it, establishing the Cathedral of Saint Sava. On March 7 of that year, Rev. Doushan J. Shoukletovich, the rector, conducted the first service for the congregation in their new home. A few years later the exiled king of Yugoslavia, would begin worshipping here.

In 1962 a beautiful oak iconostasis, carved in a Serbian monastery was installed.

Meanwhile, the Communist Party of the United States established their headquarters at 23 West 26th Street, next door to the complex. Anti-Communist terrorism resulted in no fewer than six bombings in the building between 1964 and 1972. One, on September 4, 1966, was powerful enough to blow out the 115-year-old stained glass windows in the apse of the church.

The Cathedral commissioned replacements in the Byzantine style, more appropriate to the Eastern tone of the religion.

By the 1990's, the structure suffered from lack of maintenance. Serious roof leaks resulted in the dissolving of the interior Caen stone walls in some areas and the misalignment of the roof framing. Historic conservator William Stivale was hired to oversee the multi-million dollar restoration.

The Historic Properties Fund of the New York Landmarks Conservancy provided $475,000 while private donations accounted for most of the balance.

The buildings today are a remarkable collection of Gothic Revival architecture. Upjohn’s interiors are nearly untouched, despite their sometimes rocky past.

UPDATE:  The historic and priceless structure was gutted by fire on Sunday night, May 1, 2016 hours after Orthodox Easter services.

photo by Boarder143

Henry J. Hardenbergh's Plaza Hotel - 768 Fifth Avenue

Just fifteen years after the original, first-class Plaza Hotel was opened, Fred Sterry announced on June 12, 1905 that it would be razed and a new Plaza erected on the site.

Sterry, who was from Hot Springs, Virginia, had big plans.  “The new hotel will be about seventeen stories high and in width and depth pretty much the same size of the old one.," he announced.  "The architect is J. H. Hardenberg [sic], who planned the Manhattan…In general plan the new hotel will resemble the Carlton Hotel in London."

It will be an exclusive and absolutely first-class hotel in every way. The two features which come to my mind now will be a driveway into the hotel from the plaza and an Italian garden in the rear. There will be about 700 rooms in the house.

Sterry got the architect's name slightly wrong.  It was Henry J. Hardenbergh, who was responsible for the Dakota Apartments, the Waldorf and Astoria Hotels, and other distinctive structures.

The old Plaza Hotel was demolished the following month and construction began immediately.  Things took an ugly turn when a year later the George A. Fuller Construction Company hired non-union workers.  On the afternoon of July 12, 1906, thirty “muscular iron workers, members of the Housesmiths’ and Bridgemen’s Union murdered one special policeman and left for dead two others…” according to The New York Times.  The gang used “iron bars, heavy wrenches and sledge hammers” to “beat them into insensibility.”

Despite the scandal and sensational trials that followed, construction continued and the opulent hotel was completed in September 1907.  The astonishing $12.5 million cost of construction and outfitting the hotel necessitated the largest mortgage ever placed on a hotel property.

Permanent residents, among them Alfred G. Vanderbilt, George J. Gould, and Henry Fink, moved in on Monday morning, September 23–a week before the public would be admitted, thus insuring privacy and discretion during move-in.

On September 29, 1907, a day after the grand public opening, The New York Times filled an entire page in describing the new hotel.  “One more institution will have been added to New York’s variegated social life,” the newspaper said.  “The city will have gained another showplace, the tourists on the rubber-neck automobiles will have an additional kink to put in their necks, and a few more descriptive paragraphs will have to be crowded into the all-around-the-city travelogue.”

Hardenbergh had created a French Renaissance palace with corner towers, deep mansard roofs and steeply angled eaves reminiscent of his earlier Dakota Apartments.  The interiors were lavish.  French marble lined the walls of the Louis XVI-style entrance hall.  The furniture and carpeting of the main floor were all custom-made in France.

The Palm Court - 1907

The “tea room,” later to be known as the Palm Court, was modeled after the Winter Garden of the Hotel Carlton in London.  Covered by a leaded glass dome, the walls were of Caen stone and Breche Violette marble.

“The rear wall of this room is made up of mirrors, above which are sprung arches, which are supported by four marble caryatides, representing the four seasons of the year,” reported The New York Times.  “These caryatides were removed from a famous old Italian palace.”

Of the two main floor dining rooms, one was reserved for the permanent residents--each resident or family having his personal table, “to be free from the intrusion of transients or simple diners-out.”

The grand ballroom, a white-and-cream Louis XIV confection, could accommodate 500 people.  The rear portion of the U-shaped balcony surrounding the room could be lowered by “simply pushing an electric button,” to be used as a stage or concert platform.  That section could be then returned to its original position when the floor space was needed.

The Grand Ballroom - 1907

On the main floor, a “cafe and restaurant for men,” which would later become known as the Oak Room, was paneled in dark, quartered oak wainscoting.  Over the wainscoting was an Aubusson tapestry frieze made in France for the room.  Beyond the Oak Room was “the barroom–unique among the countless elaborate barrooms of this city,” said The Times.  In addition to the frescoes of German landscapes, the German Renaissance-style Men’s Bar (later renamed the Oak Bar) featured, “Paneled woodwork in dull antique finish…High overhead is a vaulted ceiling, the arches of which are sprung from massive pilasters.”

The well-heeled guests would expect to pay as much as $2.50 per night for the luxurious accommodations.

The Plaza immediately attracted New York’s elite.  Wealthy socialites who had previously thrown balls and dinners at Delmonico’s and Sherry’s were now patronizing the new hotel’s gilded ballroom.  The Palm Court was the afternoon venue in which well-dressed Edwardian women gathered to be seen.

The Plaza, with its extremely wealthy clientele, barely felt the Great Depression. Random House’s New York City Guide, 1939,” written for the Works Progress Administration said, “The Plaza Hotel is patronized by the well-established older groups of society, though to a war generation it was a rendezvous of youth, as recorded in F. Scott Fitzgerald's novel, The Great Gatsby.”

Soon thereafter came the first of several new owners of the Plaza.  In 1943, Conrad Hilton purchased the hotel for $7.4 million, spending another $6 on renovations.  It changed hands again in 1955 when The Childs Company bought it for around $6.3 million.

That year Kay Thompson wrote the first of the children’s books about Eloise, a young girl who lived at the Plaza. Through her books the grand hotel became known to children and parents alike world-wide.

During this time, Frank Lloyd Wright lived here for six years while designing the Guggenheim Museum.  Further attention came when, in February of 1964, the Beatles stayed here during their first United States tour; then again in 1966 when Truman Capote hosted his widely publicized “Black and White Ball” in the Grand Ballroom in honor of Katharine Graham.

It was here, in September 1985, that the Plaza Accord was signed by the finance ministers of the United States, West Germany, France, Japan and Britain; an agreement that would bring the dollar more in line with those foreign currencies.

By the time Donald Trump purchased the Plaza three years later for $407.5 million, the hotel was showing its age.  Nonetheless, Trump announced that, “I haven’t purchased a building, I have purchased a masterpiece–The Mona Lisa.”  The Plaza, after a $50 million refurbishing, gleamed again.

In 1995, Trump sold the hotel at a substantial loss to Troy Richard Campbell, for $325 million.  Campbell resold the property nine years later for an astonishing $675 million--$838,509 per room--to developers El Ad Properties.

El Ad Properties had big plans for the Plaza, however because the building had been designated a New York City landmark in 1969 and a National Historic Landmark in 1978, interior and exterior alterations were closely scrutinized.

Architects Costas Kondylis & Partners were commissioned to renovate the structure.  In a news release that made many New Yorkers nervous, NYP Holdings, Inc. said, “Once home to Vanderbilts and Hitchcocks, the 98-year-old hotel will shut its doors on April 30, after which the building will be remodeled into condominiums and retail space.  Only about 80 of the Plaza’s 805 rooms will remain as a hotel.”

The renovated Plaza reopened on March 1, 2008 with 282 hotel rooms and 181 condominiums, as well as a shopping area.  The historic public areas were carefully restored, including the glass ceiling of the Palm Court, which had been removed during World War II for security purposes.

The AIA Guide to New York reported happily on the three-year, $400 million renovation, including interiors by Annabelle Selldorf.  Calling it a “vestige of Edwardian elegance,” The Guide commented on the new Oak Room and Oak Bar:

Selldorf designed new furniture but kept the oak paneling and murals intact.  It’s a quiet retreat from the City, and despite what happened to Cary Grant there in the opening scene of North by Northwest, it’s highly unlikely you will be abducted by foreign agents.

In 2010, condominiums at the new Plaza were offered at $1,150 million for a studio to $42,4 million for a 6-bedroom apartment; a far cry from $2.50 per night.

Central Park's Sheepfold -- The Tavern on the Green

Among their many Central Park structures, in 1871 Calvert Vaux and Jacob Wrey Mould designed the Sheepfold to be erected on the western edge of the park.  Comprised of red brick and contrasting limestone, its arched openings, peaked gables and multi-colored slate roof created an eccentric and charming Victorian Gothic complex--what The New York Times referred to as “the distinctive Central Park order of architecture.”

The Sheepfold was a near afterthought in the design of the park.  Original to the plan was a 15-acre open area intended as a parade ground.  Once the broad space was cleared and filled with topsoil–the most expensive project in the construction of Central Park–Olmstead and Vaux convinced the Park Commissioners that a sheep meadow would be more appropriate and romantic.  Two-hundred Southdown sheep were introduced to the meadow in 1864.  The Sheepfold became necessary to house them.

Once a year, the flock was thinned at auction which, along with the sale of wool, provided revenue to the city. On June 30, 1892, The  New York Times reported that 600 pounds of wool had been auctioned off for $104.  “It was of fair two-inch staple, and not very greasy or seedy,” said the article.

On the same day, "two rams, eleven ewe lambs, one common bull, and one year-old" were sold, overseen by “Long Tom” Conway, the Central Park shepherd.  Prices ranged from $14 for one of the rams to $2 for a lamb.  The buyers were disinterested in the yearling bull.  “He was black, with no distinct points or markings, and the only interesting thing in his history was the fact that he was born in Central Park.  The buyers were an unromantic crowd, and the yearling only fetched $6, which he ought to be worth for beef,” said The Times.

In 1912, Parks Commissioner John D. Crimmins proposed that the Sheepfold be demolished, the flock removed to Bronx Park, and the Lenox Library building (now obsolete with the construction of the New York Public Library) be moved to the site.  While the editor of The New York Times agreed that the Sheepfold should be destroyed, he wanted no additional buildings in the Park.

“We are indebted to Mr. John D. Crimmins for the assurance that the unsightly old sheepfold which disfigures the west side of Central Park, near Sixty-fifth Street, is no longer needed,” the editorial said.

Despite the push, the Sheepfold remained.

In 1921, Police Commissioner Richard Edward Enright requested an appropriation from the Board of Estimate for $10,062.75 to build a garage “for the storage of its police wagons” at the Sheepfold.  Fortunately, the Deputy Controller, Henry H. Smith, was a former Parks Commissioner.  Smith had long felt it was a “mistake” to allow the Metropolitan Museum of Art into the Park and refused to admit any further invasion.

Parks Commissioner Robert Moses ousted the sheep in 1934 as he developed plans to convert the charming Gothic building to a restaurant.  “To make room for Park Commissioner Moses's proposed popular-price tavern in what was once the old sheepfold in Central Park,..the herd of forty-nine pure-bred Dorsets that was formerly quartered there was sent across the East River to join their hornless brothers, the Southdowns in Prospect Park,” The New York Times reported on May 18.

Despite protests from the neighboring Central Park West and Columbus Avenue Association, Moses put CWA workers on a 24-hour-a-day schedule remodeling the structure.  Although the moderately-priced restaurant was a success, the building was taken over by the Civilian Patrol Corps a few years later as its headquarters, remaining until 1943.

At that point the operators of the Claremont Inn, on Riverside Drive, renovated the structure into a year-round restaurant, called Tavern on the Green.  

Two views of the newly-opened Tavern on the Green in 1944.  from the collection of the Library of Congress.

With its eclectic and whimsical décor, the Tavern on the Green became a must-see for tourists.  In 1956, designer Raymond Loewy was commissioned to execute a $400,000 renovation that included the addition of the Elm Room, constructed around a live tree.

By 1976, the restaurant was again in need of a make-over. The Tavern on the Green was closed for a $2.5 million reconstruction during which plaster ceilings were removed to expose the original vaulted ceilings.  Owner Warner LeRoy said of the project, “A restaurant is a fantasy, a kind of living theater in which diners are the most important members of the cast.”

That sense of theater was obvious when “Bands, balloons, bikinied models and other assorted ballyhoo were served up in Central Park yesterday as the newly refurbished Tavern-on-the-Green opened for business,” as reported by The New York Times on September 1, 1976.  The dripping crystal chandeliers, the millions of tiny lights outlining the eaves, and the venerable architecture lent a quirky ambience to the Tavern.

Throughout the decades the Tavern-on-the-Green was patronized by movie stars and politicians, musicians and writers, and appeared in over a dozen movies and television shows.  It appeared in several motion pictures, like the 1984 Ghostbusters and the 1987 Wall Street.  But despite its rich history and international association with New York City, the Parks Department did not renew the restaurant’s license on August 28, 2009.  On New Years Eve a farewell party was held for 1700 guests and then the lights went out, presumably forever.

Two weeks later, the furnishings and decorations were auctioned off.  The Times of London wrote, “The Tavern on the Green, a landmark New York restaurant and watering hole of the rich and famous, is being sold off piece by piece, right down to its topiary giraffe.”

Included in the sale were an emerald-colored chandelier made in Austria for the Maharajah of Udaipur, footmen’s dress uniforms, disco balls, 34 brass samovars, two life-sized wooden elks and a Tiffany-glass ceiling that brought $180,000.

In October of 2010, the Tavern-on-the-Green, once the largest restaurant in America and New York’s highest-grossing restaurant, was transformed into a Visitor’s Center, gift shop and restrooms.  Where celebrities and the wealthy once sipped champagne, tourists now shopped for mugs, sweatshirts, posters and t-shirts.

The city-run venture was short-lived.  In February 2012 the city offered the building for lease, and on April 24, 2014 the Tavern on the Green restaurant reopened.