In the 1860s, the block of East 71st
Street between Third and Second Avenues saw the rise of speculative
brownstone-fronted homes. Three bays
wide and sporting elaborately-carved entrances, the Italianate-style homes were intended for
respectable middle- to upper-middle-class families. At the time, the neighborhood was marginal—sitting only a few blocks from the gritty district near the East River
that one newspaper deemed “a colony of laborers.” The homes, while comfortable and attractive,
were little different than hundreds of brownstone dwellings being thrown up
throughout the expanding city. It would
be a full century before 251 East 71st Street could be termed “remarkable.”
But before that day would come, the residence was home to a
string of equally unremarkable owners who spent their lives modestly and
quietly. The Rev. William G. French was
the first owner. In 1865 he was a member
of the New York Protestant Episcopal City Mission Society and worked as a
missionary on Blackwell’s Island. His would
have been an unglamorous position.
Blackwell’s Island was the site of the Small Pox Hospital
and the Workhouse and the Charity Hospital.
French would have worked with the most indigent, criminal and diseased
elements of New York society—few of whom, one may imagine, were eager to receive
his religious outreach. (By 1880 he would
obtain the position of Chaplain of the Workhouse.)
image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.
The next occupants were the unmarried Ellen L. Chapman, who taught in the Girls' Department of Grammar School No. 7 far downtown at 60 Chrystie Street, and her widowed mother. Ellen would continue teaching for years.
John and Wilhelmina Miller purchased 251 East 71st Street in 1875. Born around 1845, John married Wilhelmina Scheig on June 11, 1873. The couple would have six children.
John Miller died on May 7, 1889. Following Clara Louise's marriage to William Eccles Schastey on October 21, 1905, the couple moved in with Wilhelmina.
Schastey was in the building business “in which he
was prominently known,” according to The New York Times. But it was his military record for which
Schastey was best known and respected.
For years he was a member of the elite Seventh Regiment, popularly known
as the “Silk Stocking Regiment” because it attracted the sons of New York’s
millionaires in the mid-1800s. He was
first lieutenant when the Spanish-American War erupted; and was captain of
Company G of the 201st New York Volunteer Infantry when the regiment
was mustered out of service in 1899.
On Wednesday September 29, 1909 William E. Schastey was in
Norfolk, Virginia when he was stricken with “acute indigestion.” The 39-year-old contractor died within
hours. His body was brought back to New
York and the funeral was held in the house on 71st Street the
following Saturday morning.
By the 1920s and ‘30s it appears the vintage house was
being operated as a rather upscale rooming house. Josephine Lucille Zrust lived here in 1922
while she did graduate work at Columbia University’s department of
sociology. The Department of Buildings
apparently caught up with the owners in 1937 when the building received a “multiple
dwelling violation.”
In 1961 the house was formally converted to apartments—one per
floor. But it would be a short-lived
renovation. In 1969 the old brownstone
was razed to be replaced by an ultra-modern townhouse that epitomized the
60s. Designed by architect Maurice
Medcalfe of the architectural firm Hills & Medcalfe at 36 East 57th
Street, it captured the Space Age in mortar and glass. Completed the same year that the astronauts
walked on the moon, its minimal design relied on a stark flat surface broken by
regimented rows of bulging oval glass windows.
It was Barbarella Meets the Upper
East Side.
The vicious contrast between what was quickly termed the “Bubble
House” and the staid architecture of the rest of the block resulted in
immediate and unbridled opinion. The New York Times diplomatically called
the swelling portholes, “An interesting variation of the bay window.” The AIA
Guide to New York City accused the house of being an excellent argument for
the extension of historic districts.
For many years the Donna Schneier Fine Arts gallery was
located in the lowest floor of the building.
Nearly half a century after its construction, the structure’s period
design continues to shock the casual passerby.
And the address which for a century was unremarkable is quite remarkable
today.
photographs taken by the author

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Very unusual!
ReplyDeleteRemarkable? Maybe remarkably ugly. A conceptual idea that should have remained on paper
ReplyDeleteNot everyone's taste, but like the Chainmail Building, unique and intellectually interesting. The 60's where a different time...
ReplyDeletehttp://www.scoutingny.com/the-mystery-of-the-weird-building-on-47th-street/
I myself find this incredibly ugly. But then, I don't like 1960's nor modern design. Even if you love this house, you have to admit it looks ridiculous between the brownstones.
ReplyDeleteThe 1960's were not all bad in NYC, consider the crazy space age 1964 New York State Pavillion in Flushing Meadow Park, not only unique and interesting but a spectacular design and jaw droppingly awesome. This however is a visual travesty stuck between a row of pleasant brownstones
ReplyDeleteI'll say one thing for this house, every time I see it, it makes me laugh.
ReplyDelete***
I've always loved this house. Wouldn't want to live in it, necessarily, but seeing the contrast between this house and its neighbors makes me smile.
ReplyDeleteIt so little resembles a house at all somehow removes it from criticism as "architecture" Inhabiting the realm of absurdity as it does, I like it ....
ReplyDeleteHow would your mother open the window and holler for you to come up for dinner or how would she throw down a nickle for you to go buy a treat.
ReplyDelete