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| In 1992 nearly a century of black grime was removed from the building, exposing Hardenbergh's warm palette of brick and stone. photo by Ajay Suresh |
Although
it was inventor and actor Isaac Merritt Singer who founded the Singer Sewing
Machine Company; it was Edward Cabot Clark who made it a success. Clark
had been Singer's attorney since 1848 and the two became business
partners. A marketing genius, Clark's innovative ideas--like accepting
trade-ins for newer models--made the Singer Company an enormous success and the
partners millionaires.
Edward
Clark diversified into real estate development and quickly turned his attention to the rocky,
mostly undeveloped Upper West Side. He was outspoken in his intentions to
make the West Side as affluent as the East. He encouraged landowners to
work together, mutually investing in property, and issuing restrictive
covenants on construction.
In 1880 Clark embarked on an ambitious project—the erection of a
first-class apartment building that would engulf the blockfront of Eighth
Avenue (later Central Park West) between 72nd and 73rd
Streets. His speculation was both
aggressive and risky. Years later The New York Times would
remind its readers that the area "was in the heart of a squatter's shanty
district, where goats and pigs were more frequently encountered than carriages
in the muddy streets."
Architect Henry Janeway Hardenbergh’s plans, filed on October 1,
1880, called for an eight-story “Dorchester stone and brick Family Hotel” with
an estimated cost of $1 million (more than 24 times that much in today’s
dollars). Clark christened his projected
building The Dakota. Manhattan lore is
fond of saying that Clark’s friends chided him that it was so far away from the
established city that it could be in the Dakota Territory. But in fact, the name was almost assuredly
merely a product of Clark’s fascination with the West.
Clark was faced with the challenge of attracting moneyed residents
to an apartment building at a time when multifamily living was considered
middle-class at best. And so, his
apartments would offer everything found in an upscale private home. The
ceiling heights ranged from 15.5 feet on the first floor to 12 feet at the topmost. No two of the scores of fireplaces were
identical, and imposing scale was emphasized throughout the building. Some drawing rooms were 20 by 40 feet, and the
parlors, libraries and dining rooms were sumptuous. Floors were inlaid with cherry, oak and
mahogany. The Manufacturer and
Builder reported that the apartments would have “from five to twenty rooms
in each; some are supplied with kitchens, and others have only
dining-rooms. On the main floor, at the
Eighth avenue and Seventy-second street corner, is to be a large restaurant,
including a dining hall and café, with private dining-rooms connected.”
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| Entrances are located on the four corners of the courtyard. At the southeast corner were the restaurant, private dining rooms and cafe. from the collection of the Library of Congress |
The most lavish apartment was intended for Clark and his
family. Its drawing room was the size of
a ballroom—24 by 49 feet—with two massive crystal chandeliers and fireplaces at
either end. It contained a total of 17
rooms and 17 fireplaces. The expensive
details included silver-plated doorknobs and hinges.
Clark would never see his apartment completed. On October 14, 1882, Edward C. Clark died of
malarial fever, two years before the end of construction. But his project forged ahead without him.
To maximize floor space in the apartments, Clark and Hardenbergh
had eliminated most of the servants’ rooms and relocated them to the top two
floors, which they shared with the laundry and trunk storage rooms. The second floor held apartments for out-of-town
guests so the need for guest bedrooms in the apartments was unnecessary, as
well.
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Cast iron staircases with marble treads were deemed fireproof. photo by Fred R. Conrad, The New York Times
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In its May 1882 issue The Manufacturer and Builder reported
on the progress. “There will be seven
hydraulic elevators, and the same number of stairways in iron and marble. The woodwork will be elaborately
carved.” Hardenbergh assured residents
their privacy by placing the entrances within a gated courtyard. The main carriage gate--a 20-foot high arched
entrance--opened onto 72nd Street.
On the opposite end of the courtyard was a smaller “tradesmen’s gate”
where delivery wagons entered, trash and ashes were removed, and through which
the servants came and went. (In the 20th
century the tradesmen’s gate received the romantic name “The Undertaker’s
Gate,” despite that it was most likely never used for that purpose.)
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| The courtyard allowed residents to get in and out of their carriages in privacy. The Daily Graphic, September 10, 1884 (copyright expired) |
On October 21, 1882 The Record & Guide described the
style as being “in the main, a reminiscence of French Renaissance.” Architectural critics have argued the point
for more than a century. It has been
described as German Renaissance, Chateauesque, Brewery Brick, and even “Victorian
Kremlin.” In fact, it is a melding of
historic styles--Hardenbergh’s own hybrid.
The Dakota, which the Record & Guide said was “the very
earliest attempt on a large scale to attract fashion to the west side of the
park,” was completed in 1884. By then
the cost had risen to “between $1,500,000 and $2,000,000,” according to the
journal, which added on February 7, 1885, “the rents range from $1,000 to
$5,600.”
For that, however, residents enjoyed upscale amenities. Maids arrived every day, as did porters who
removed the ashes, and replaced coal and firewood for the stoves and
fireplaces. Laundry was taken away and
returned freshly cleaned and ironed. The
main floor restaurant was in the style of an English baronial hall; but for
those tenants who preferred to eat in, meals would be delivered and served by
the restaurant staff. On the roof was a
promenade with gazebos and pergolas and canopied sunshades. And for the more athletically inclined the
adjoining lot to the side held private tennis courts for residents’ use.
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| from The Sanitary Engineer, 1885 (copyright expired) |
On October 27, 1884 the Daily Graphic entitled an article
“A Description of One of the Most Perfect Apartment Houses in the World” and
called The Dakota “the largest, most substantial, and most conveniently
arranged apartment house of the sort in this country.”
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A glimpse of the rooftop promenade and a pergola can be seen in this 1965 photograph by the Historic American Buildings Survey. from the collection of the Library of Congress
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Among the early residents were the family of Theodor Steinway, of
Steinway & Sons; music publisher Gustav Shirmer and his wife; John
Browning, the founder of the Upper West Side’s exclusive Browning School for
boys; and Edward Bascomb Harper, president and founder of the Mutual Reserve
Fund Life Insurance Company. Others
included John D. Adams of the chewing gum firm; and engineer John B. McDonald
who built the first subway.
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The completed building was surrounded by unpaved streets and vacant lots. from the collection of the Library of Congress
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The New York Sun found the extravagance of some residents inexcusable. In an article in May 1890 it complained “A
tenant with a five years’ lease in the Dakota flats has spent $5,000 in
decorating the walls of his apartment.”
(It was a large amount, equal to nearly $150,000 today.) But those who lived in The Dakota could well
afford it.
It was no coincidence that Frederick G. Bourne, president of the
Singer Sewing Machine Company, had an apartment here. He nearly lost his life on February 23, 1897
when he went for a ride in Central Park.
His relaxing jaunt turned terrifying when his saddle horse was spooked
and began galloping down the Park Driveway.
Bourne was thrown to the pavement, breaking his arm. The Tribune reported “he was taken to
his home in the Dakota flats…in a carriage.”
After the turn of the century the laundry was moved from the top
floor to a large boiler room under the tennis courts. On the afternoon of April 18, 1910 several
employees were at work there, including 52-year old Ellen Cleary, who was
working on a steam wringer. Suddenly the
massive boiler exploded. The Evening
Telegram reported “A huge piece of iron struck her in the leg and she fell
to the floor unconscious.” All the other
employees ran from the room in panic; but when the danger seemed to have
subsided, they rushed back.
“James Williams, an employee of the place, saw the woman was badly
injured and made a tourniquet of a sheet, which he placed above the wound to
stop the flow of blood.” An ambulance
arrived to find that “the Cleary woman’s leg had been almost torn off and was
hanging by shreds of flesh. He
immediately amputated the limb.” The
force of the explosion had broken out several of the lower floor windows.
The tradition of the heads of the Singer Sewing Machine Company
residing in The Dakota continued with Sir Douglas Alexander and his wife, the
former Helen Hamilton Gillespie.
Alexander was the sixth president of the firm which he had joined as a
clerk in his native Canada in 1891.
Upon his appointment to the Board of Directors in 1896 the couple moved
to New York. He was created a baronet of
Edgehill, near Stamford, Connecticut, on July 2, 1921 by King George V. Lady Alexander died in their Dakota apartment
on March 19, 1923.
By 1959 the tenant list, while still highly affluent, had somewhat changed. Nan Robertson, writing in The New York Times on September 7, 1959, grouped the residents into three categories: "the diplomatic corps, upper-echelon show business and publishing." Included in the diplomatic contingent were the ambassadors to the United States of the Netherlands, Portugal, Finland and the former Ambassador from the Soviet Union. "Theatrical tenants, to name a few," said the article, "are Boris Karloff, Eric Portman, Judy Holliday, Jose Ferrer and his wife, Rosemary Clooney, Zachary Scott and his wife, Ruth Ford, Jo Mielziner, the set designer, and Sidney Kingsley, the playwright." C. D. Jackson, a top executive of Time, Inc. occupied the 17-room Edward C. Clark apartment on the sixth floor.
The Dakota still maintained a staff of 52, described by Robertson as "like wondrous fossils from the Age of Gracious Living." And it was still owned by the Clark family. One resident said "You never saw a building so superbly maintained. The bronze is petted, the mahogany oiled, the brass rubbed, the floors waxed." By now the former warren of servants' rooms on the eight and ninth floors were rented "to a chosen few tenants for $25 and $30 a month."
With motion picture stars inside, The Dakota became a film celebrity in its own right in 1968 with it served as the location of Roman Polanski's psychological horror film Rosemary's Baby.
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photo by Half Sigma
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In 1973 singer John Lennon and his wife, Yoko Ono, moved into an apartment, adding their names to those of other famous residents like Leonard Bernstein, Roberta Flack and Lauren Bacall. Two years later, on January 26, 1975 a catty journalist suggested that the two had split up, writing in a Twin Falls, Idaho newspaper "Yoko still lives in their expensive New York City Dakota Apartment and drives around town in the Lennon limo. John is hanging out with a swinging black dancer on Manhattan's West Side."
Seven years later the couple had acquired five apartments consisting of 26 rooms, plus a ground-floor office. On the night of December 8, 1980, the Lennons left the building headed to a recording session. A fan, Mark Chapman, approached John and asked him to autograph a copy of "Double Fantasy," Lennon's latest album. He did so, writing "John Lennon, 1980." Several hours later the Lennons returned home. John stepped back through the gate to the crowd of fans to sign autographs. Chapman was still there and he emptied his .38-calibre pistol into Lennon's back and left arm. The former Beatle was pronounced dead upon arrival at the hospital.
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| Many of the 1884 interior details remain throughout. photo via Brown Harris Stevens |
Today The Dakota is regarded as America's second most famous address--the first being 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. While almost ever other Victorian apartment house fell from fashion or, more often, was demolished, The Dakota never lost its upscale reputation. And, also unlike most, its interiors are for the most part secured. Residents who wish to modernize their apartments are required to store any architectural elements--like mantels or woodwork--so they can be reinstalled later.