The 1907 Camera Building -- 122-124 East 25th Street

 

On April 27, 1907, the Brunswick Realty Co. acquired the two vintage, three-story houses at 122 and 124 East 25th Street and hired architect Frederick C. Zobel to design a loft-and-store building on the site.  Completed at a cost of $100,000 (the equivalent of $3.44 million in 2025), Zobel's seven-story design was highly influenced by the current Arts & Crafts movement.  Steel frame construction made possible vast show windows at the first and second floors.  Both levels were framed in white terra cotta architraves.  Metal infill with paneled spandrels created three stacks of paired windows in the four-story midsection.  Drip moldings at the sixth and seventh floors recalled the domestic architecture in the neighborhood half a century earlier.  The top floor sat upon a dentiled intermediate cornice and an understated terminal cornice capped the whole. 

Gothic Revival drip moldings like those on the vintage brownstone next door (right) inspired the top floors of the Camera Building.  photo by Wurts Bros. from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York.

Despite being named the Camera Building, 122-124 East 25th Street attracted a variety of businesses.  Among the first tenants was the architectural firm of Pell & Corbett, whose School for Applied Design for Women on Lexington Avenue was just being completed.  The firm was composed of Francis Livingston Pell and Harvey Wiley Corbett. 

The New York Times, October 18, 1908 (copyright expired)

Other initial tenants were the Willow Brook Company, an art gallery; the Woodhull Press; the Magnesia-Asbestos Company; and the Arden Press.

The Willow Brook Company staged exhibitions in its space.  In December 1910, for instance, the New York Evening Post reported, "A collection of water colors by Mrs. W. J. Stillman, better known, perhaps, as Marie Stillman, who became a pre-Raphaelite under the guidance of Rosetti, is being exhibited at the rooms of the Willow Brook Company, Nos. 122-124 East Twenty-fifth Street."

An unusual tenant was the Waterman Institute, here as early as 1911.  The facility produced and prescribed medications that promised to cure a variety of disorders.  An article in the Atlanta, Georgia newspaper The Constitution said in part:

It is estimated that within a comparatively short time nearly three thousand persons addicted to the use of opium or morphine in some form, have taken advantage of the offer of the Waterman Institute, 124 East 25th street...to send a free trial supply of a truly remarkable home remedy.

And an article in The Springport Signal on April 6, 1911 said, "Advices from every direction fully confirm previous reports that the remarkable treatment for epilepsy being administered by the consulting physicians of the Dr. Waterman Institute is achieving wonderful results."

Perhaps the first dry goods businesses in the building came in 1915 when Silverberg, Kraft & Co., ribbon manufacturers; and Hawkeye Embroidery Company signed leases.  But the Camera Building continued to house a wide variety of tenants.  Others included the State Specialty Co., which marketed inexpensive novelties; the Foreign Tool & Machinery Company; and the Price Trade Publishing Company.

The Billboard, May 3, 1913 (copyright expired)

Government contracts during World War I were highly profitable.  Henry T. Price, head of the Price Trade Publishing Company, was also a member of the American Defense Society and in 1917 charged representatives of the Quartermaster Corps of the United States Army of graft.  He notified U.S. Senator James W. Wadsworth Jr. that companies were being forced to pay kickbacks before being awarded a contract.

On December 25, 1917, the New York Herald reported that Price produced a shoemaker, Peter Sebald, who was approached by a sergeant regarding repairing 700 pairs of Army footwear.  Sebald told him that he usually charged $1.50 per pair, but for that quantity he would lower the price to $1.00.

"You don't want to charge $1," the sergeant said, "You want to charge $1.25."  Sebald was told, "When you get your check, you give me $175."  

In 1919, the Big Sisters, Inc. leased space.  The group would remain for several years and on December 24, 1922, The New York Times reported, "The Protestant Big Sisters had a celebration for 200 children at 122 East Twenty-fifth Street yesterday, and forty baskets of food were distributed to families in need."

The offices of the National Association of Employing Lithographers were here as early as 1922.  It acted as a union employment agency.  An interesting tenant was James Chittick, who ran a textile school.  His 20-session courses cost $50--paid in advance.  (The tuition was a substantial $875 in today's money.)

New-York Tribune, September 20, 1921 (copyright expired)

The Vocational Service for Juniors moved in around 1923.  Founded in 1910, the organization awarded scholarships to needy high school students who otherwise would have to drop out of school to help support their families.  A letter to the editor of The New York Times on March 8, 1923 explained, "Five dollars keeps a child in school a week, $125 keeps a child in school a term, $250 keeps a child in school a session.  Even then, a child must often work after school and on Saturdays to make both ends meet."

A letter to the editor of the New York Evening Post from Mrs. Edward C. Henderson, president of the Board of Managers of the Vocational Service for Juniors, on January 26, 1927 followed up on some of its 700 scholarship graduates.  "Some are out in the world following trades and professions; some are working their way through college."

A less reputable tenant was the Knickerbocker Merchandising Company, Inc.  On October 6, 1925, The New York Times reported that the firm and its executives, Maurice Innerfield and Emanuel Seaman, had been indicted "with having used the mails to defraud retail grocers out of nearly $130,000."  The company's "high-powered" salesmen pressured more than 5,000 merchants to join the "Permanent Associate Buying Service Membership" to obtain groceries at low prices.  It was all a scam.

A renovation completed in 1939 resulted in offices and salesrooms throughout the building.  It was likely at this time that a zig-zagging iron fire escape was installed that necessitated the notching of the cornice.

The original second floor window configuration survived in 1941.  via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

A two-year renovation of the building was begun in 1969 for the Optometric Center of New York.  Founded in 1956, it provided an eye care clinic and continued optometric education following the closing of Columbia University's optometry program.  The center's research was reflected in 1969 when a survey of 500 patients discovered that "Nearly 18 per cent of Medicaid patients received 'unsatisfactory care' on eye problems," as reported by The New York Times on October 2.

On October 23, 1971, the N.Y. Amsterdam News reported, "The New York State Optometric Association has made funds available to the Optometric Center, earmarked for students for minority groups...The new college will be located at 122 East 25th Street, the present site of the Optometric Center, and will occupy about half of the center."  The college would eventually become the SUNY College of Optometry.

The Optometric Center remained until 1983 when the building was converted to offices.  Then, in 2003, the upper floors were renovated to residential use--one apartment each on the second through sixth floors, and a duplex on the seventh and penthouse levels (the later unseen from the street).  The renovation including restoring the notched cornice.

photographs by the author

Frederick C. Zobel's 1905 13 and 15 West 24th Street

 

At the turn of the last century, the former occupants of the refined brownstones that lined the block of 24th Street between Broadway and Sixth Avenues had mostly moved northward.  In their place came commercial buildings.  On May 19, 1905, Andrew J. Kerwin, Jr. purchased the "two four-story dwellings" at 13 and 15 West 24th Street, as reported by The New York Times.  The combined plot was 52-feet-wide.

Kerwin commissioned Frederick C. Zobel to design the 11-story replacement on the site.  Completed in the spring of 1906, its vast, arched entrance (offset to accommodate a storefront) sat within a portico with polished blue granite columns.  Recessed within a limestone frame, a trio of tripartite windows at the second floor were separated by cast iron columns.  The stone bandcourse directly above was sumptuously carved as a sheaf of fruits.

The brick-faced midsection was introduced by three sets of modified Palladian windows, their center arches replaced with Renaissance pediments.  The two-story top section finished the design with three triple arcades.

With the building completed, Andrew J. Kerwin, Jr. quickly turned his focus to erecting another.  On July 19, 1906, the New-York Tribune reported that he had sold 13-15 West 24th Street and, "will begin the erection on May 1, 1907, of an eleven story loft building" at 27 through 35 West 24th Street.

The block overlapped with the apparel and the pottery-and-glass districts, the latter centered on West 23rd Street.  The handsome loft-and-store building at 13-15 West 24th Street attracted tenants from both industries.

Among the first to move in was Lynch & Notman, which made decorative housewares.  In its August 1907 issue, Glass and Pottery World remarked, "A glimpse into the showroom of Lynch & Notman...quickly shows the visitor that here are goods which would undoubtedly attract the attention of particular people," and cooed, "This firm is turning out some of the most exclusive and finest work possible to produce."  Among the items listed in the article were, "colonial and Russian brass candlesticks, hand-hammered and spun jardinieres and fern pans, electric portables, sconses [sic], etc., in bronze, and carved wood in antique gold finish."

On the apparel side, occupying space in 1912, for instance, were Hynard & Meehan, makers of waists and dresses.  Also in the building were Rappaport & Gottlieb, coat makers; and men's silk neckwear firm Bachrach Co.

The mix continued in the post-World War I years.  Hynard & Meehan was still here, boasting in an advertisement in 1920 that "our factory is turning out 600 to 750 charmeuse, crepe meteor and tricotine dresses made up in the latest models."  

That year, Frank M. Katz & Co. signed a lease.  On September 30, 1920, The Pottery, Glass & Brass Salesman reported that its 6,000-square-foot space "will permit of an unusually fine display of merchandise," that included, "lamps, toilet articles, baskets, etc."

Also operating here in 1920 were Max Zweigenthal, makers of "graduation dresses, georgettes, organdies, and also printed georgettes, taffetas and satin dresses," according to an ad in June; as well as furrier Abraham Keizer & Bro.; and milliner Adolph Wimpfheimer & Co.

The American Hatter, March 1922 (copyright expired)

Even after the Garment District moved to Midtown, apparel factories continued to rent space in 13-15 West 24th Street through the third quarter of the century.  By then, the Madison Square neighborhood was experiencing a renaissance.  In 1983, the upper floors were converted to sprawling residential spaces.

An advertisement for a 4,500-square-foot co-op in 2005 described it as having, "keyed elevator to private landing; dining area, renovated eat-in kitchen with center island, exposed-brick walls, marble baths, mahogany doors."  The price at the time was $3.5 million.

While the block has changed, outwardly Frederick C. Zobel's stately loft building, essentially, has not.

photographs by the author

Frederick C. Zobel's 1907 Gabay Building - 30-32 East 20th Street

 

In the 1840s, the block of East 20th Street between Broadway and Fourth Avenue (later Park Avenue South) was lined with elegant homes like those of brothers Robert and Theodore Roosevelt at 26 and 28 East 20th Street, respectively.  But as the century drew to a close, that had changed.  Wealthy families had moved northward, their homes altered for business use or razed.

In May 1906 the Gabay Construction Co. purchased the two altered dwellings at 30 and 32 East 20th Street.  The Real Estate Record & Builders' Guide noted on May 5 that the firm "will at once raze the present buildings and erect a modern fireproof office building."  The article noted the advantages of the site.  "This property adjoins the house in which President Roosevelt was born, and has been restricted by the Roosevelt Club as to height and depth, which gives the adjoining property exceptional advantages for light and air."

Within a week architect Frederick C. Zobel was working on plans for a seven-story office and studio building.  His tripartite Beaux Arts design included a two-story base--as much glass as masonry--within a sheaf-carved frame.  The classically inspired entrance announced Gabay Building.

The understated four-story midsection was faced in beige brick, every sixth row of which were recessed to create rustication.  The double-height brick piers between the openings of the top section were capped with cast metal capitals and a copper cornice completed the design.

The top floor of the building contained artists studios and the lower floors offices and loft space.  It drew a wide range of tenants.  Among the first were Weisman & Burger, dealers in furrier supplies; boat manufacturer Palmer Bros., whose factory was in Cos Cob, Connecticut; and the London-based Crown Perfumery Co.  In 1908 Crown Perfumery Co. introduced a new scent, Jeunesse Doree, while continuing to market well-known items Crown Lavender Salts and Crab Apple Blossom, touted as "favorites for forty years." 

Highlighting the variety of tenants was the Utility Import & Export Co., sellers of vacuum cleaners, here by 1908.  In searching for traveling salesmen that year, the company touted the Surprise Suction Sweeper as the "perfect vacuum household cleaner."  The ad promised, "It does the work of the most expensive vacuum cleaning plans; housewives snap it up and there's a big margin for salesmen."

The New York Times, April 10, 1910 (copyright expired)

Among the first tenants of the top floor studio spaces were architect E. G. W. Dietrich, and sculptor Victor David Brenner.  Also occupying space on the top floor was the Parsonian Art School, headed by C. L. Parsons.  An advertisement in 1908 offered, "Instruction in charcoal and crayon drawing, water color, oil, pastel and tapestry painting."

Victor David Brenner was born  Avigdor David Brenner in 1871 in Lithuania.  He anglicized his name upon arriving in America in 1890.  He took advantage of the free classes at Cooper Union to study art and English.  Among the first works he worked on in his East 20th Street studio was a bas relief plaque and matching medal of Abraham Lincoln in profile, completed in 1907.

Two years earlier, President Theodore Roosevelt had tasked Augustus Saint-Gaudens to redesign the United States coinage.  The same year that Brenner created his Lincoln profile, Saint-Gaudens died, leaving the Government's project unfinished.  In 1909 Roosevelt commissioned Brenner to redesign the plaque image for the United States one-cent piece, which at the time featured the image of a Native American.  Brenner's Lincoln Head penny, with minor variations, is still in circulation today.

image via PCGS CoinFacts

While working here Brenner's works were annually included in the esteemed Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts Exhibitions.  On December 6, 1913, the New York Herald reported, "Mr. Victor D. Benner, of No. 30 East Twentieth street, sculptor, who designed the Lincoln penny, was informed yesterday that his design had been accepted for the $50,000 work in granite and bronze to adorn the entrance to Schenley Park, Pittsburg, Pa."  And the following year Herringshaw's American Blue Book of Biography noted, "He has works in the Metropolitan museum of art and in [the] Luxembourg Museum...and many other places."  Brenner's studio was in the Gabay Building at least through 1916.

Victor David Brenner, from the collection of the American Numismatic Association.

In the meantime, the lower floors continued to house myriad tenants.  In 1910 The Commercial Photo & Designing Co. was in the building, selling art reproductions; and the Excello Arc Lamp Co. made high-powered commercial lighting for venues like the New York Hippodrome and Steeplechase Park.

Excello Arc Lamp Company catalogue, 1908 (copyright expired)

In 1913 J. C. Scheff & Co., converters of silks and satins, signed a lease on the eastern store space; and six years later Lemcke & Buechner, book dealers, opened in the western store.  The bookstore, which would remain well into the 1920s, was the agent for the Columbia University Press.

The post-World War I years saw George E. Mallinson, a floor coverings and furniture importing company in the building.  In 1920 the Nemo Furriers' Supply Company signed a lease, as did the Riverdale Manufacturing Company.  During the Depression years the offices of Artist Fast Freight, a trucking company, moved in.  (Artist Fast Freight got its somewhat confusing name from its owner, Anthony Artist.)  

During most of the 20th century, workers were paid in cash.  A trusted employee, usually a bookkeeper or clerk, had the uncomfortable task of bringing the payroll from the bank each week, often accompanied by co-worker for protection.  Thieves were well aware of the practice and often monitored the movements of a particular company's messenger for weeks before pouncing.

In 1937 two "thugs" as described by The New York Times made careful note of Artist Fast Freight's schedule.  They were aware, reported the newspaper, that between noon and 1:00 "there is a payroll of about $350 in the office."  The amount would be equal to around $6,600 in 2023.  Unfortunately for them, on October 1 they miscalculated their hold-up by minutes.  Anthony Artist had just left the office with the cash in his pocket to pay his 14 truckers.

Before he left, Artist had paid his 20-year-old stenographer and bookkeeper, Regina Dudell, her $24 weekly salary.  She was in the office with a friend, Bessie Chipkin, who had dropped by to keep her company, when suddenly, "Two stylishly dressed hold-up men" burst into the office, as reported The New York Times.

"'Where's the payroll?' one of the intruders asked, brandishing a pistol.  Miss Dudell told him it was not in the office.

"'Come on, give me the money; I've got four kids,' the hold-up man said as his companion stood at door on guard," recounted The New York Times.

Regina insisted that her boss had already left with the money, but she offered, "Take my money if you want it," removing the $24 from her pocketbook.  The New York Times said the men "with a lot of pride but no cash put on the proverbial high hat yesterday afternoon and snubbed loot of at least $24 as mere chicken feed."  The gunman told Regina, "We don't want your dough; we want the firm's dough," and the pair rushed out, slamming the door behind them.

Although somewhat difficult to see, the metal capitals were still in place in 1941.  image via the NYC Dept of Records & Information Services.

The Artist Fast Freight remained in the building into the 1940s.  By 1941 the American Booksellers Association had its offices in the building, as did the publishers of Science and Society, established in 1936.  Science and Society was still here in 1947 when the Marxist journal drew the attention of the House of Representatives Committee of Un-American Activities.

The third quarter of the 20th century saw changes in the neighborhood as many loft buildings were converted to residential use and street-level shops became trendy restaurants or boutiques.  In 1976 Darts Unlimited occupied the store space of the Gabay Building.  Writing in The New York Times on May 19 that year, Lawrence Van Gelder said, "The point of just about everything in the tiny shop at 30 East 20th Street is darts.  In fact, as its name states, it is Darts Unlimited, which is, to these shores, what an emporium devoted to baseball equipment would be in London's Haymarket.

More recently a branch of the Paris restaurant Le Coq Rico was in the ground floor, where once customers shopped for silk fabrics and books.

photographs by the author

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Frederick Zobel's Nos. 147-149 West 22nd Street

Change had already come to the West 22^nd Street block between Sixth and Seventh Avenues by the last decade of the 19^th century.  Once exclusively residential and respectable, many of its homes were now being converted for business purposes. 

Edgar Valentine and his wife, May, lived in the four-story house at No. 147 West 22^nd Street.  An incident on Thursday, September 22, 1896, evidenced the changing tone of the neighborhood.  May walked down the block to the Adams & Co. Dry Goods store on Sixth Avenue.  The store was just one of the giant emporiums along the shopping thoroughfare known as the Ladies’ Mile.

May Valentine chose a cloak, costing $22.50 and offered the clerk a check for $42.50 drawn on the 19^th Ward Bank.  The Sun later reported “The cashier was suspicious and he refused at first to accept the check.”

May explained she did not want all the change; but she did need some ready cash.  The reluctant clerk allowed her, finally, to take the cloak and gave her a two dollar bill.  May, he said, could come back for the balance when he was assured the check would clear.

A day later then check was returned to the store marked NG.  Police were sent to the Valentine residence to arrest May.  She protested that she was innocent and that she had been given the check by her husband.  The Sun advised “so he was also locked up.”

The home where the police arrested the Valentines would last only about a decade longer.  On June 6, 1907 the 22-foot wide house was sold along with the neighboring house at No. 149.    Real estate operator Max Solomon took his time in improving the lots.  It was not until November the following year that his choice of architects, Frederick C. Zobel, was announced.  The Real Estate Record & Builders’ Guide reported that he had been commissioned “to prepare plans and specifications for the improvement of the plot…with a 9-sty business building.”  The cost of the loft and store structure was estimated by Zobel at $175,000.

Exactly a year later the building was nearing completion.  On November 14, 1909 the New-York Tribune reported that garment manufacturer Oriental Gown Manufacturing Company and Goldston & Fiedebaum had each leased 5,000 square feet spaces.  “This completes the rental of the entire building,” the newspaper noted.

When the building was completed in March 1910 a 10^th floor had been added to the plans.  Construction costs had risen to $250,000 according to The New York Times; almost $6.5 million in 2015 dollars.  Zobel’s restrained design featured eight floors faced in buff-colored brick which sat on a two-story limestone base.  The minimal ornamentation of the upper floors was made up for by the exuberant deeply-overhanging cornice with its close rows of palm fronds covering its underside.

A handsome terra cotta frieze separated the first and second floors.   The classical, Adamesque design provided an upscale face for the retail space.  Zobel crowned the second story show windows with a hefty Greek key motif.

Max Solomon was in the business of building buildings, not running them.    A month after Nos. 147-149 West 22^nd Street opened, he sold it to Charles H. Roman.

The upper loft floors were filled with garment firms.  Among them were Simon Hirschfield Co., Inc, makers of “children’s dresses;” Potter & Schattman, which made coats and suits; suitmaker Sobel, Feldstein & Sahlein; L. Tweel Mfg, Co. which manufactured kimonos; and Lindner & Davidson, fabric “refinishers.”

Lindner & Davidson operated under the name Universal Sponging Works.   Alfred Lindner was a partner in the firm.  Around 1907 he had become estranged from his daughter, Ethel Helen Lindner, who chose the stage as her profession.   The 17-year old girl took the stage name Ethel Lorraine and found work in the Winter Garden.  Alfred would not hear about his daughter again until 1912.

Soon after starting her career, the teen-aged actress caught the eye of Raymond Belmont, son of the massively-wealthy August Belmont.  Millionaire-showgirl flirtations were common; marriages were not.  Yet five years later, on November 21, 1912, the couple was married at the home of retired clergyman Edmund F. Crowan, in Jersey City.

If his daughter's profession had angered Lindner; the surprise wedding infuriated August Belmont and the obedient bridegroom abandoned his bride.  On December 6, 1912 the New-York Tribune reported “Raymond Belmont’s lonely bride of two weeks and a day has retained a lawyer to look after her interests…and friends of the Belmonts are already prophesying that before the first anniversary of the marriage, Mrs. Raymond Belmont will again be Ethel Helen Lindner by virtue of a Reno divorce.”

The newspaper hinted that it was August Belmont who was behind the desertion when it wrote “The only ground on which August Belmont could sue for an annulment would be on the ground that his son was insane at the time of his marriage.”  The newspaper’s investigation had also led to Alfred Lindner, whom it called “a cloth sponger, with a prosperous plant at No. 147 West 22d street.”

Alfred Lindner and his family lived in the Dallas Court, “a well appointed apartment house,” at No 660 West 144^th Street.   When reporters arrived there, servants told them that Lindner was out of town.  Ethel’s stepsister offered, however, “None of our family has seen her in five years…I know nothing about the marriage.”

In the meantime, Raymond had returned to the Belmont mansion at No. 44 East 34^th Street and Ethel was living in the Gosford apartments at No. 236 West 55^th Street.  The well-publicized scandal made Ethel a potential box office draw and on December 5 William Hammerstein, manager of the Victoria Theatre, offered her a staggering $2,000 a week contract for a two-week engagement.

Ethel recognized financial potential in the marriage as well.  She told reporters “I am Mr. Raymond Belmont’s wife, and I have no intention of doing anything but remaining so.”

No doubt Alfred Lindner was uncomfortable with his name and his firm being repeatedly publicized in reports of the messy affair.  Ethel, on the other hand, forged on with plans to benefit from the situation.

On February 2, 1913, less than two months after the wedding, she sued for separation, “alleging desertion and non-support.”  When the Belmonts offered a settlement, she refused, preferring to litigate.  She canceled a planned trip to Europe in May.  The Sun explained on May 23, “Mrs. Belmont said last night that she will go abroad just as soon as she can settle her suit for separation and support…It will be fought out in court early next month.”

Alfred Lindner’s string of bad luck that year included being repeatedly targeted by pickpockets.  The situation became so chronic that The Evening World reported that “Sheriff Harburger appointed him a deputy in a vain effort to protect him from thieves.”

When Alfred was, yet again, the victim of a pickpocket in October that year, newspapers still dragged up the Ethel-Belmont scandal.  As he and his wife boarded a subway on the night of October 28, two undercover detectives saw a pickpocket grab his wallet. 

In reporting on the incident, The Evening World began its article saying “Young Raymond Belmont’s father-in-law, Alfred Lindner, owner of a cloth sponging business, was pulled away from the side of his wife in a subway train in Grand Central station last night by Detectives Mugge and Gaynor”

Lindner, understandably, struggled with the unknown men until they could identify themselves as law enforcement officers.  In the meantime, the train pulled away with Mrs. Lindner aboard.  The 18-year old thief, Louise Webster, found himself under arrest for a disappointing haul.  Lindner’s pocketbook contained only three cents.  Webster was held on $3,500 bail.

The Evening World ended its report by turning back to the Belmont affair.   Ethel’s suit for separation had advanced, by now, to one of divorce.  “His daughter, whose stage name is Ethel Lorraine, is suing Raymond Belmont for divorce with the approval of the young man’s family.”

When the United States entered World War I Lindner and his partner, Louis Davidson, received a lucrative contract to finish the fabric for Army uniforms.  But, once again, bad press would follow Alfred Lindner.

On February 22, 1918 The Sun reported a shocking story.  “Not content with the generous legitimate profit allowed them, some and possibly many manufactures of olive drab uniforms for the United States soldiers have been robbing the Government hand over fist.”  Investigators estimated that the fraud could reach as high as $5 million.  “Robbery as practiced by men to whom cloth was entrusted under contract for the making of uniforms is pictured by the prosecutors as brazen,” said the newspaper.

The scam involved receiving Government-owned cloth, then selling it to retailers.  Among the men indicted was Louis Davidson, Alfred Lindner’s partner.

By mid-century the garment district had moved north of 34^th Street and Nos. 147-149 West 22^nd Street became home tenants like the Peerless Engraving Company and the Northern Radio Company.

Northern Radio Company manufactured communication equipment, like its multi-channel telegraph systems, and would remain in the building for decades.   The firm’s bookkeeper, Edith Cohen, was terrified on April 26, 1955 when she returned to the building with the $6,900 payroll.  She was suddenly confronted by a gunman who grabbed the bag of cash and made off in an automobile.

The aging loft building saw change in the 1970s as it was converted to living space above the second floor.  Thirteen apartments, some of them designated as “joint living work quarters for artists,” replaced the old factory spaces in 1979.  The ground floor continued to house Greenland Studios, a stained glass restoration and repairing firm run by Mel Greenland.  But that space, too, too, became residential in 2001.

Today the old loft buildings of the West 22^nd Street block have been converted to high-end residences or razed for new apartment buildings.  Frederick Zobel’s Nos. 147-149 is happily little changed and a coat of Wedgewood blue on the former shop front draws attention to the lovely frieze above.

photographs by the author

Frederick Zobel's 1913 Colony Arcade Building

At the turn of the last century the block of West 38^th Street between Fifth and Sixth Avenues was lined with brownstone rowhouses.  By now the millinery district would reached this far north, engulfing the once fashionable neighborhood.  As the homeowners fled, the businesses moved in.

That quickly changed, as well.  The old houses were quickly snapped up by developers who razed them for soaring loft and store buildings.  On March 25, 1911 The Sun made note of the changes.  “Before the development of the section began most of the structures in the district were of the old fashioned brownstone front type, with here and there a small business building.   There were many milliners and dressmakers in the section, and these used their parlor floors and basements for show and workrooms.  Now, however they have fine quarters in these new light and airy structures and the old time building is rapidly a thing of the past.”

Developer William H. Wheeler seemed to be determined to transform the block of West 38^th Street alone.  At the time of The Sun’s article, he had replaced four brownstones at Nos. 8 through 14 with the Murray Hill Building; two at Nos. 28 and 30 for his Wheeler Building; and the day before had purchased Nos. 24 and 26 where he intended to build “a twelve story store and loft building.”

But Judson S. Todd would make his mark on the block as well.  Like Wheeler, Todd and his Holland Holding Co. were a major force in Manhattan real estate.  On January 21, 1912 The New York Times reported that Mrs. M. J. Parrott had sold Todd the two houses at Nos. 65 and 67 West 38^th Street, and that Dr. J. E. Serre sold him the house next door at No. 63.  The newspaper pointed out that Todd “last week purchased…the abutting property, 62 and 64 West Thirty-ninth Street.”

In 1911 brownstones like these at Nos. 60 and 62 still lined West 38th Street.  from the Collection of the New York Public Library

The developer now owned a large plot running through the block and he immediately put architect Frederick C. Zobel, to work on designs.  The choice of architect was no doubt influenced by the organization of the Colony Construction Company, of which Zobel’s brother, Robert P. Zobel, was president.

Two months later plans were filed for a “twelve-story store and light manufacturing building” with an anticipated cost of $400,000—about $9.3 million today.  “The façade will be of brick and terra cotta, and it will be fireproof through,” reported The Times. 

The building was completed in 1913.  Although the 38^th Street side was wider that the 39^th—62 feet as opposed to 46 feet—Zobel masterfully designed identical facades.  Within the past decade terra cotta had been used to create elaborate Gothic Revival commercial structures like the Woolworth and World’s Tower Buildings.  It now appeared on Zobel’s Colony Arcade.  The lower three floors were embellished with Gothic arches, heraldic shields, and quatrefoils.  Demanding the most attention, however, were the magnificently-executed pairs of spread-winged eagles that perched above the entrances.

The Colony Arcade Building quickly filled with tenants and, as expected, most were millinery firms.  Shortly after its doors opened it was home to The Crest Brand Bandeau Co “makers of bandeaux and hat linings.”  The Illustrated Milliner reported in June 1913 that “The offices and sample rooms are being tastefully fitted up and all the appurtenances of manufacturing this line of goods have been installed.”

Jos. Levin Co moved in during the building's first year of operation.  The Illustrated Milliner, June 1913 (copyright expired)

Simultaneously, Jos. Levin Co., Inc. was in the building, manufacturing tailored hats; as was Bonhotal Co.  Once settled in, Bonhotal Co. advertised that its “early Fall lines” were ready, including “tailored and fancy hats” and 150 styles of “black and mourning hats.”

Soon other ladies’ hat manufacturers were here, including Richard Sentner; Sternberger & Marks; and H. Goldfarb (advertising “Every new idea in shape, material and trimmings—clever models with ribbons, gold and silver ornaments, fancies, flowers, ostrich, etc.”).  A manufacturer not in the millinery industry was Harry Rothleder who leased space toward the end of 1913.  The firm manufactured and sold furs in the building.

Sentner's $36 price tag was for a dozen hats -- Dry Goods Economist, July 1914 (copyright expired)

Little by little over the years, as the Garment District crept into the area, the Colony Arcade Building would see more apparel firms.  In the meantime, however, the enormous ground floor space—a full 20,000 square feet—was leased by Winifred T. McDonald “for a term of years” in October 1914.  In reporting on the deal, The New York Times felt it was a reflection of the “growing importance of the Thirty-eighth Street block, between Fifth and Sixth Avenues, due to the Lord & Taylor store at Fifth Avenue and the new elevated station at Sixth Avenue.”

Cast metal spandrels carried on the Gothic motif.

McDonald shared the newspaper’s enthusiasm.  With the rapid rise of commercial buildings and the migration of department stores northward from the old Ladies’ Mile; the neighborhood was flooded with workers and shoppers.  All of them needed to be fed.  The perceived potential was enough to induce the female entrepreneur to sign the $400,000 aggregate lease.

The Times said “After extensive alterations the place will be opened as a restaurant and tearoom.”  Winifred McDonald hired architect Patrick Reynolds to do the $7,000 in alterations.  The tearoom and café was opened early in 1915.  To separate the working men from the female shoppers and shop girls, the tearoom and café were separate from the “men’s grill.” 

Winifred T. McDonald offered music to her patrons -- The Sun, May 23, 1915 (copyright expired)

Later that year the 39^th Street block was closed off for a 4^th of July block party thrown by workers in the area.  Hattie Meyer worked as a seamstress and the 35-year old participated in the Vacation Committee’s plans for the event.  When the day came, she left her house at No. 228 East 12^th Street dressed all in white with a red, white and blue badge, and excitedly headed off to the festivities.

“She had entered the block in West Thirty-ninth street between Sixth and Seventh avenues, where the celebration was taking place, when she became ill and started to fall,” reported The Sun on July 6.  People passing by saw her drop to the pavement and helped her into the hallway of the Colony Arcade.  “An ambulance was called from the New York Hospital, but before it arrived Miss Mayer died.”

The seamstress’s body was removed to the West 13^th Street police station.  The Sun said “The band kept on playing and none of the Fourth of July dancers knew of the fate of one of their committee members.”

Harry Silverstein was working for Freundlick & Sons in the building in 1916.  Around 1:00 on a Saturday in February that year he was walking along Fifth Avenue nearby at 45^th Street, when he noticed a necklace on the ground.  The honest worker took it to a lawyer, David Lewis, and the pair searched the lost and found ads in The World.  The newspaper reported on February 21 that “they noticed that a necklace answering the description of the one Silverstein found had been lost by Mrs. Emil Sperling, who lives at the St. Regis Hotel.”

The pearl necklace with a silver clasp had dropped from her neck while walking down Fifth Avenue.  The attorney took the necklace to Mr. Sperling who handed him a $600 reward for Silverstein.  “The necklace was valued at $12,000,” said The World.  The garment worker’s honesty earned him what would be essentially that same amount in today’s dollars.

The wonderfully detailed facade survives, even at street level.

The aggressive development of the district had an unexpected and undesired consequence.  The hundreds of factory and shop workers mobbed the sidewalks and spilled onto upscale Fifth Avenue.  Refined shoppers were loathe to battle the hoards of workmen and the fashionable tone of the avenue was threatened.  The Save New York Movement was born.

The Movement established a “restricted zone” and encouraged manufacturers to avoid it.  The mayor supported the program and initiated zoning restrictions for construction going forward from 32^nd Street to 59^th Street, from Third to Seventh Avenue.  J. H. Burton, Chairman of the Save New York Committee, explained to Buildings and Building Management magazine that the movement was designed “to preserve the character of our shopping, retail and residence sections.”

The Movement made itself known in the Colony Arcade Building in 1916 when one of its largest tenants moved out.  On November 14 that year The New York Times reported “Hollow & Perlow, one of the largest manufacturers of silk waists in the city, who moved uptown when the northward movement of trade began several years ago, have declared their allegiance to the ‘Save New York Movement,’ and will move out of the restricted zone.”  The firm, “which employs a large force” had decided to move south to 25^th Street.

Millinery and apparel workers cram the sidewalks of Fifth Avenue in 1917 -- Buildings and Building Management, February 1917 (copyright expired)

“We are in hearty sympathy with the ‘Save New York Movement,’ and believe that this wonderful business section of New York City should not be marred or depreciated by the manufacturing industry,” said D. Parlow.  “Success to the movement, which should be supported by every manufacturer who has the interest of the trade at heart, even if they do entail a sacrifice of choice location.”

In 1922 Robert P. Zobel sold the building to Brooklyn real estate operators Levy Brothers.  The $1.25 million all-cash deal drew understandable attention.  The New York Times noted that the building “is occupied almost exclusively by the millinery trade and shows a gross annual rent of about $150,000.” 

While the Colony Arcade Building continued to be occupied by hat manufacturers, a vastly different firm moved in within a few years.  The Radiovision Corporation was among the pioneering television firms.  On July 9, 1928 it conducted a public demonstration at the Hotel Mayflower of the Cooley “Rayfoto” system.  Invented by Austin G. Cooley, The New York Times reported that “The apparatus demonstrated transmitted and received four by five inch pictures in less than three minutes each.”

Later that year, in August, Radiovision Corporation announced the invention of “a new light cell, which…will greatly aid the realization of practical radio television.”  During a demonstration of the cell, the company’s vice president, Edgar H. Felix said “it can be utilized to perform such functions about the house as turning on the hot-water heater, starting the furnace or closing the windows at sunrise.”

That never happened.

The building continued to house hat firms through the last quarter of the 20^th century.  Most amazingly, however, the ground floors of the handsome structure were never destroyed by modernization.  The building was converted by in 2012 to a boutique hotel, the Refinery Hotel.  Zobel’s eye-catching terra cotta façade survives astoundingly intact on a block that was almost entirely transformed during the first decades of the 20^th century.

 photographs by the author