The Richard Morris Hunt Memorial -- 5th Avenue at 71st Street

photo by Alice Lum

As William K. Vanderbilt’s massive chateau on Fifth Avenue was nearing completion, architect Richard Morris Hunt discovered a scheme being carried out by his workmen.  “In the great banquet hall, where much of the work was being done,” explained The New York Times, “there appeared a little cloth-enclosed booth.  Mr. Hunt, preoccupied, paid little heed to it.  He did notice after a time, however, that there was frequent talking and laughing there, and at last he grew impatient.”

What Hunt discovered in the booth, was a sculptor working feverishly on a statue of the architect himself.  Hunts plans included a figural sculpture to top the highest turret of the mansion—however he had not specified the design of the statue.  So the workmen took things into their own hands.  As a tribute to the great architect the stone contractors hired a sculptor to create Hunt’s image dressed as a workman.

“The sculptor had worked cozily and busily away in his little nook, catching glimpses of Mr. Hunt as he came and went through a peep hole cut in the cloth.”

William K. Vanderbilt approved of the figure and Richard Morris Hunt, depicted in stone, fittingly stood above the highest point of the completed mansion.  The tribute was an example of the high regard Hunt received from the loftiest levels of society to the lowest construction workers.  Not only had Hunt designed some of the most magnificent structures in the city and the nation; he was the moving force in American architecture.

The first American to attend the Ecole des Beaux-Arts in Paris, he came to New York in 1855 where he established the Tenth Street Studio Building.  It was the first time a structure had been created specifically as working studios and living space for artists.  He co-founded the American Institute of Architects, and he was instrumental in ensuring that architects were treated as white-collar professionals, like attorneys and physicians. 

As his influence and fame increased, his earthy demeanor and sense of humor were unchanged.  His list of monumental commissions led some to call him the builder of New York City—he designed the new Metropolitan Museum of Art, the pedestal for the Statue of Liberty, the New York Tribune Building, and a long list of the palatial mansions of Manhattan and Newport.

When Hunt, deemed the dean of American architecture, died on July 31, 1895 a movement to erect a monument to him was swift.  Started by the Municipal Art Society of New York (of which Hunt was its first president), the project was quickly joined by the National Academy of Design, the National Sculpture Society, and Society of American Artists, the Architectural League, the American Institute of Architects, the Metropolitan Museum of Art, and the Century Association.  Hunt’s millionaire clients, including the Vanderbilt family, joined in the fund raising.  By September 1897 half of the $20,000 estimated cost had been secured.

In June architect Bruce Price submitted the application for the location of the Richard Morris Hunt Memorial.  Price was at the time President of the Municipal Art Society and the group proposed placing the monument along the Central Park wall facing Fifth Avenue between 70^th and 71^st Streets.  “It seems expecially fitting it should stand fronting one of Mr. Hunt’s principal works, the Lenox Library,” noted The New York Times.

The memorial would face Hunt's grand Lenox Library -- photograph by H. N. Tiemann & Co. from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York http://collections.mcny.org/C.aspx?VP3=SearchResult_VPage&VBID=24UAYWEFQFQF&SMLS=1&RW=1280&RH=915

Indeed that was the point.  And the monument would, appropriately, be as much architecture as sculpture.  The Sun, on September 26, 1897, described the design for its readers.  “The memorial is a semi-ellipse, rising three steps above the sidewalk, with tessellated floor and a seat.  The wall of the exedra is pierced with three openings on each side of the centre carried out in a Greek Ionic order, with columns of green Maine granite  In the centre, on a pedestal, is a bust of Mr. Hunt, and against the piers at the ends, on lesser pedestals, are the caryatides, one representing sculpture and painting and the other architecture.”

If the Municipal Art Society got its way, the over-sized bronze bust of Hunt would look forever across the avenue at the magnificent Lenox Library, built in 1870.  There was little chance that the site would not be approved and the same day that the application was filed The Sun noted “In the matter of the memorial to Richard Morris Hunt, both the site and the monument were approved.”

Bruce Price had received the honor of designing the monument and the esteemed sculptor Daniel Chester French set to work on the bust and flanking figures.  Although only half of the necessary funds had been collected, work was commenced in the fall of 1897.  The New-York Tribune reported on September 26 that “the funds in hand are sufficient for the erection of the exedra bust.  This part of the work will be finished by spring, and the caryatides will be set up next summer.”  The newspaper noted that workers desired to play a part in memorializing Hunt.  “There is a strong desire on the part of the artisan artists and metal workers, who owed so much to Mr. Hunt, to have a share in the erection of the monument, and the caryatides may be paid for by them.”

The Society’s projection that the initial phase of construction would be completed in spring was a bit optimistic.  On October 23, 1898 The New York Times reported that the still-unfinished monument would be unveiled on Monday, October 31; Richard Morris Hunt’s birthday.  “It is expected that the artists of New York, more especially the members of Mr. Hunt’s own profession, will be represented in large numbers at the exercises.”

At 4:00 that Monday afternoon, a procession of members of at least a dozen organizations like the Municipal Art Society, the American Water Color Society, the Art Artisans’ Fund and the Institute of American Architects marched from the Lenox Library to the monument.  Architect George B. Post headed the ceremonies and Hunt’s grandson, Richard Hunt III, removed the white silk banner and American flag that covered the bust.

photo by Alice Lum

The Hunt memorial stood unfinished for over two years awaiting the flanking bronze allegories of “Architecture” and “Painting and Sculpture.”  Unfortunately, the fund-raising that proceeded so rapidly at the onset of the project had significantly slowed.

For over two years the monument sat unfinished, awaiting the flanking statues -- photograph by George P. Hall, from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York http://collections.mcny.org/C.aspx?VP3=SearchResult_VPage&VBID=24UAYWLUKQ97&SMLS=1&RW=1280&RH=915

Daniel C. French completed the two figures in 1900 and they were placed on exhibition in the Academy of Design.  "Architecture" held a model of the Administration Building of the World’s Columbian Exposition, one of Hunt’s masterpieces; and "Painting and Sculpture" held an artist’s palette and a figure of “Theseus” from the pediment of the Parthenon.  The six-foot, three-inch bronze statues were cast by the Henry Bonnard Company.

The palette in the hand of "Painting and Sculpture" holds a figure of Theseus -- photo by Alice Lum

Finally, on May 22, 1901 John De Witt Warner announced to the Municipal Art Society that “through subscriptions to the amount of $1,400 from this society, and a substantial gift from the National Arts Club, the debt upon the Richard Morris Hunt Memorial had been paid,” reported the New-York Tribune.

With the two striking allegorical bronzes in place, Richard Morris Hunt’s unique memorial was completed.

An early 20th century postcard showed the completed memorial

Only nine years later, however, at least one New Yorker lamented the abuse and neglect of the monument—including the disgrace of graffiti.  Ames Hill wrote to The New York Times on July 11, 1910 saying “Is it not possible that the Richard Morris Hunt Memorial opposite the Lenox Library be kept clean enough so that one would willingly rest there?
 

“I have never seen it so; but always, as now, marked with chalk and pencil, strewn with waste papers, and defiled with dust.  A small amount of effort would keep Richard Hunt’s Memorial in a condition worthy of its design.”

Two years later, Hunt’s glorious Lenox Library across the avenue was razed, to be replaced with the Henry C. Frick mansion.  The purpose of the monument’s location was thereby lost.

A charming postcard captures a nanny with her charge in a pram resting at the memorial.

Nevertheless, the Richard Morris Hunt memorial is a striking monument on Fifth Avenue.  The ingenious blending of architecture and art is an apt tribute to the man responsible for how architect and art were perceived in America.

The 1909 Morris Schinasi Mansion - No. 351 Riverside Drive

photo by The New York Observer

America was the land of opportunity to Mussa Schinasi and his brother Solomon in 1891.  The young men hailed from Manisa in Asia Minor and conditions for the Sephardic Jews in Turkey had noticeably declined by the end of the 19^th Century.  New York City promised a new life.

The young men arrived in New York via Alexandria, Egypt with no jobs but extensive knowledge of tobacco processing.    They founded the Schinasi Brothers, Inc., a cigarette and cigar manufacturing company.  Using imported Turkish tobacco rather than the Virginia-grown leaves American smokers were accustomed to, they produced cigarettes under the brand name “Natural” and before long were highly successful.

Mussa quickly changed his name to Morris.   By 1907 both brothers both millionaires and Solomon purchased the red brick and white marble Isaac Rice mansion on Riverside Drive.  Morris, the same year, hired architect William Tuthill to design a new mansion at Riverside Drive and 107^th Street.  This one, like his brother’s, would be free-standing as were several other of the enormous Riverside Drive residences.

The January 1908 issue of the Building Trades Employers Association Bulletin announced that Charles T. Wills had been awarded the contract to construct the house.  “The structure will be of white marble in the style of the French Renaissance, and will cost about $180,000,” the article said.  “The roof will be of mansard terra cotta and tile, with steel girders and copper cornices.”

The article was right.  Tuthill. who had been trained for several years in the offices of Richard Morris Hunt, produced a French Renaissance palace of blinding white Vermont marble.   Two and a-half stories high, it boasted sophisticated stone balconies, a steep tiled roof and conspicuous projecting dormers, along with picturesque cresting and finials.  The house was completed in 1909, a year after construction began.

In decorating their home, Schinasi and his wife Laurette drew from both their familiar homeland as well as their adopted country.  Jewish historian Aviva Ben-Ur recalled a close friend of the family describing “a harmonious mélange of Middle Eastern elegance and American sophistication.”

The Schinasi Mansion in the 1930s -- photo NYPL Collection

In the large sitting room the acquaintance remembered “heavy ornately carved furniture and thick wall hangings.”  There was a deep oriental rug on the floor, a piano, and a jazz-playing Victrola.  The library was adorned with carved teak panels, imported from India by the Associated Artists; the decorating firm founded by Louis Comfort Tiffany and Lockwood de Forest, among others.  Ceilings were frescoed, walls were marble-paneled and staircases and other woodwork intricately carved.  In the basement, a tunnel led below ground to the Hudson River.

Interior details included intricate, marble trimmed mosaics -- photo by The New York Observer

 

While contemporary architecture critics praised the structure, Schinasi himself was apparently not so happy.  Although by 1911 the brothers would own two cigar factories and were multi-millionaires, Morris Schinasi refused to pay Tuthill for his architectural design work.

Tuthill sued his client for $5,655.65 for “work, labor, and services as an architect between the 1^st day of March, 1908, and the 1^st day of July, 1909…of which no part has been paid.”

Schinasi’s refusal to pay Tuthill is puzzling; he was highly generous with his fortune, giving large amounts to both Christian and Jewish charities.  And the magazine La America pointed out that the brothers routinely made “sacrifices for their workers.”

Morris Schinasi died on September 10, 1928 leaving an estate of about $8.5 million.  Among the charities in his will, he provided for the construction of the International Morris Schinasi Hospital in his homeland of Manisa.

Two years later the family sold the mansion to the Semple Realty Corporation for $200,000.  Mrs. Rosa Gunter Semple moved in and established the Semple School for Girls in the house; a finishing school for well-bred young ladies.   It was here in her rooms that Mrs. Semple died at the age of 93 on October 10, 1956.

The home became a day care center for Columbia University in 1960, “The Children’s Mansion.”   When the school decided to sell in 1979, Columbia law professor Hans Smit and his wife, Beverly, purchased it for a reported $325,000.

Smit initiated what would become a two-decade interior restoration.   The carved oak newels with their pineapple and tobacco leaf motifs, the mosaic wall details, and the parquet floors came back to their 1909 appearance.   That intriguing tunnel to the Hudson River, however, remained sealed.

Hand-painted ceiling panels were inset into Egyptian marble -- photo The New York Observer

In 2006 the couple offered the mansion for sale at $31 million; and after going on and off the market for several years, the last privately-owned free-standing mansion on Riverside Drive was relisted in 2011 for $24.9 million.

The house was designated a New York City landmark in 1974.

Daniel Chester French's Nearly-Lost "Manhattan" and "Brooklyn"

Daniel Chester French's "Brooklyn" and "Manhattan" in preparation for removal 1964 -- photo Brooklyn Museum

As the 19th Century turned into the 20th, the “City Beautiful” movement swept over New York. The movement, which maintained that surrounding citizens with “civilized” buildings would in turn foster civilized behavior, resulted in grand marble, limestone and granite edifices. (A century later the feasibility of that theory is highly debatable.)

Planners for the new Manhattan Bridge, just up river from the Brooklyn Bridge, had the movement vividly in mind. The approach to the bridge on the Manhattan side was to rival anything in Europe – a grand, open plaza with a monumental archway. Architects Carrere & Hastings, who had recently designed another City Beautiful show-stopper, the New York Public Library, were given the commission to design the plaza.

In 1912 over a thousand families lost their homes when a swath of land 400 by 750 feet was leveled. A great triumphal arch would serve as the entrance to the bridge. On either side curved colonnades, like those embracing St. Peter’s Square in Rome, would welcome the traveler onto the span. Around the plaza, park-like landscaping was designed with grass, flowers and shrubbery.

The monumental approach on the Manhattan side -- postcard from author's collection

Carrere & Hastings lavished the monumental structure with sculpture by selected artists. Carl Rumsey executed the frieze of American Indians and buffalo, C. A. Heber did the large groupings on either side of the opening. Construction began in 1901 and the bridge opened in 1909.

The very non-monumental approach on the Brooklyn Side -- photo Brooklyn1.com

Meanwhile, on the Brooklyn side things were less monumental. The entrance plaza here consisted of two immense granite pylons – no arch, no colonnade, no landscaped park. Perhaps because of civic guilt, plans were put forward to add statues to the pylons two years later. Subsequently Daniel Chester French was hired to create two huge allegorical sculptures of Brooklyn and Manhattan.

Although French was responsible for numerous civic sculptures, he would become most remembered for his gigantic rendering of Abraham Lincoln in the Lincoln Monument in Washington DC. For the bridge entrance, he sculpted two seated figures in matching granite using, most likely, model Audrey Munson as his model. (Munson would appear in sculpture throughout the city, such as Civic Pride atop City Hall and the Pomona Fountain in front of the Plaza Hotel.) French attempted to capture the essence of the boroughs in stone.

"Manhattan" -- photo by Douglas Yeo

Manhattan sits haughtily with her head held high, her hand turned under on her knee. She holds a winged globe and wears a tiara. French represented Manhattan’s wealth of museums with a ruined Greek torso, its banking industry with the money chest under her foot, and its shipping industry with the bows of three ships. A peacock stands regally beside her.

"Brooklyn" -- photo Douglas Yeo

A more maternal Brooklyn has a small boy reading a book at her feet. Next to her is a church – representative of the borough of churches. She wears a laurel wreath as opposed to a tiara and at her side is a lyre.

French was able not only to capture various civic aspects of the two boroughs; but he also reflected their public impressions – Manhattan being regal and dignified, Brooklyn being homey and unpretentious.

On April 11, 1915 The New York Times reported that the statues were nearly ready for installation. Calling them “of heroic size,” the newspaper said “They are to be placed on pylons built of Victoria white granite and ornamented, so as to produce an impression of strength and dignity. The pedestals for the statues are fifteen feet high and represent a cost of $9,000 each.”

Bridge Commissioner Kracke commented that “The design of the approach and of the plaza is highly ornamental and yet is not lacking in either simplicity or dignity. In designing the approach the idea was kept in mind that the Flatbush Avenue extension would be a wide and beautiful boulevard into Brooklyn, and the approach in consequence was laid out so as not to suggest the idea of a terminal, but of an open driveway.”

“Brooklyn” and “Manhattan” sat quietly surrounded by traffic for half a century until, in 1961, Parks Commissioner Robert Moses decided that the plaza needed to be expanded to accommodate increased traffic. On June 1 he applied to the Art Commission of the City of New York to demolish the statues, calling them “ornamental and architectural masonry” that “must yield to make way for reconstruction.” A month later the Commission “grudgingly approved” the removal of the statues. At the 11th hour, the two artworks were given a reprieve and the 20-ton maidens were relocated to either side of the main entrance to the Brooklyn Museum in April 1964.

In 2003 the statues were restored by Conservation Solutions, Inc. who removed and disassembled each one into its component stones, cleaned them, filled damaged areas and re-assembled on new bases flanking the new entrance to the Museum.

The US Customs House -- 1 Bowling Green

photo NYPL Collection

At the near-tip of Manhattan on the site where the Dutch West India Company built Fort Amsterdam to defend themselves against Native Americans sits one of the most monumental of New York structures.

The greatest source of revenue for the United States Government before the creation of income tax in 1916 was the collection of customs duties.  As the 19th century came to a close there was a need for a substantial new U. S. Customs house in New York City.

In 1899 once-elegant row houses, since converted to office space, lined the site of the old Fort Amsterdam.  The Federal Government took ownership and the Department of the Treasury sponsored a competition for the design of the new Customs House -- and sparked a controversy that would last for years.  The Customs House was the first major competition under the 1893 Tarnsey Act that allowed architects to compete for the design of civic structures.  The competition ended in a tie between Cass Gilbert, from Minnesota, and the New York City firm of Carrere & Hastings.

While the jury requested the finalists to submit further developments to their designs, Carrere & Hastings suggested to Gilbert that they join forces in the project and that they request the jury be enlarged.  Gilbert, who wanted this plum commission for himself, refused on both counts.  After resubmitted designs, much deliberation and Gilbert's paying his lawyer $5000 in legal fees, Cass Gilbert won the commission.

Coming amid the City Beautiful movement which stressed monumental, decorative buildings, Gilbert's design was exactly that.  Seven stories of Beaux Arts-style gray Maine granite covered three city blocks and contained 450,000 square feet of space.  Drawing his inspiration from the Paris Opera, his building would be as lavish as it would be massive.

Critical to the architecture was the sculpture.  Four colossal seated figures representing Africa, Asia, America and Europe would decorate the front facade.  So important were these allegories that each had a separate contract, the commissions all being awarded to Daniel Chester French.  Above the 12 three -story high columns are statues representing the sea powers of the world.  In dramatic contrast to the gray granite facade, the sculptures were executed in brilliant white Tennessee marble.

Masterpieces of symbolism, French's groupings deserve careful study: 

America rests her foot on Quetzelcoatl, the feathered South American serpent god.  A Native American watches over her shoulder.  Corn, wheat, cacti, a buffalo skull and a broken Native American pot symbolize the United States.  Next to her Labor rolls the wheel of progress.  Along the sides of America's throne are Mayan glyphs. 

The statue of Asia reflects the political views of the period.  Her feet rest on a stool supported by human skulls, symbolic of the many lives lost in Asian slavery.  In one hand she holds a poppy while a statue of Buddha sits in her lap.  Behind her a cross is emerging, denoting the rise of Christianity and missionary work at the time.  Three miserable figures, one curled on the ground with his face in the dirt and one with his hands tied behind his back represent, in French's words, "the hordes of India, and the hopelessness of the life of so many of the inhabitants."  A large tiger wraps behind the throne.

Europe sits on a throne decorated with fragments of the frieze of the Parthenon, her left hand grips the bow of a ship with a lion's head, representing Europe's many conquests during the Age of Discovery.  Her right hand, in a fist, rests on a globe -- a symbol of her many colonial take-overs.  Behind her a shrouded figured depicting ancient history contemplates a human skull.

Finally Africa, referred to at the end of the 19th century as "the sleeping continent" slumbers in her throne accompanied by a sleeping lion.  To her left is the head of a sphinx, while behind an eerie shrouded figured represents the mystery of Africa.

No single artist was commissioned for the remaining sculptures of the facade; rather, some of the most noted sculptors of the day were employed:  Augustus St. Gaudens, Albert Jaegers and Vincenzo Alfano, for instance.

The construction began in 1902 and would continue for another five years.  On January 11 of 1902, Harper's Weekly wrote "Preliminary work on the new Custom-House, at the foot of Broadway, is well advanced, and portions of the steel frame-work are in place.  The edifice is to be of marble, and to cost approximately $3,000,000.  Directly in front is the Bowling Green, of historic memory, and great buildings tower to the sky in the immediate neighborhood."  E. J. Meeker's illustration of the proposed building may have been the first glimpse most New Yorkers would get of the grand design.

 The cost to erect the monumental structure would equal more than $90 million today)  illustration from Harper's Bazaar, January 11, 1902 (copyright expired)

The interior of the Custom House was as lavish as the exterior.  The rotunda remains one of the largest public spaces in New York.  Over the ornate room a 140-ton skylight was engineered with no visible means of support.

In 1936, during the Great Depression, the Works Projects Administration commissioned Reginald Marsh, as part of their Treasury Relief Art Project, to create murals for the rotunda area.  Eight large panels exhibit scenes of the Port of New York City.  One especially interesting panel includes motion picture actress Greta Garbo leaving a passenger ship and greeting the press. The smaller eight panels depict famous explorers -- painted in shades of brown and gray to simulate statuary.

The 1970's in New York was a dark period for landmark preservation.  The city's critical financial problems caused structures in Central Park and elsewhere to fall victim to neglect and vandalism.  So it was for the Custom House.  In 1973 the Customs Service abandoned the building which sat empty and ignored for nearly a decade until plans were finally initiated for its demolition.

In a last minute rescue, Senator Daniel Patrick Moynihan sponsored a bill appropriating nearly $30 million for the restoration of the old Customs House.  Because of the variety and quality of the artwork, preservation efforts involved a series of subcontracts.  Painstaking research was done on every piece after which individual curators recommended methods, tested those methods, and then conserved the art under the watchful eye of experts.  The Marsh murals, for instance, were unable to be cleaned; the sand-rich plaster on which they were painted being far too delicate.

Today the United State Customs House is the home of the George Gustav Heye Center -- National Museum of the American Indian, a branch of the Smithsonian Institution.