The 1929 Master Building - 310-312 Riverside Drive

photo by Deansfa

In 1920 Nicholas Roerich and his wife, Helena, arrived in New York City.  The Russian-born mystic and artist promoted himself as a master in the theosophist belief in ancients who could transmit messages and knowledge to believers.  He mesmerized wealthy Americans who formed a near-cult.  (Reportedly, the spiritualist urged follower Henry Wallace, Secretary of Agriculture under Franklin Roosevelt, to persuade the Treasury Department to add the mystic pyramid of the Great Seal to the dollar bill—a changed that was enacted in 1935.)

Among his ardent followers were Louis L. Horch, a specialist in international finance, and his wife, Nettie.  The couple were major financial backers of Roerich's Master Institute of United Arts and the Roerich Museum, founded in 1923.  Louis Horch was president of the museum and the couple owned hundreds of the artist's paintings.  

The Horches had established the museum in an apartment building they owned at No. 310 Riverside Drive.  They took their dedication a step further in 1928 by purchasing the abutting properties at Nos. 311 and 312 and securing a bond to fund construction of a skyscraper on the site.

On August 2, 1928 the Ballston Spa Daily Journal announced "A 24-story 'skyscraper museum' to cost in excess of $2,ooo,ooo is to be erected in Riverside Drive to house the Roerich Museum and two other art organizations.  It will supplant the residential building at 310 Riverside Drive, at present occupied by the Roerich Museum, which is devoted to 750 paintings by Nicholas Roerich."  The article explained that the along with space for other organizations to be housed in the lower floors, a "number of small apartments, an auditorium, conference rooms and lecture halls, are embraced in the plans to be drawn by Helmle, Corbett & Harrison, and Sugarman and Berger."

Harvey Wiley Corbett, a specialist in skyscraper design, took the reins in designing what would be called the Master Building--named after Roerich's "Invisible Teacher, Master Morya."  His Art Deco design recalled his One Fifth Avenue, completed a year earlier, in its overall massing and series of setbacks.  He used color to emphasize the verticality of the structure--the brick morphing from dark purple at the base to light gray at the top.  He told a reporter from The New York Times his purpose in doing so was "to create the effect of a growing thing."  The wrap-around corner windows were the first in New York.  

Completed in 1929, the Master Building was described by The New York Times as "A formidable venture in combining living space and culture."  The lower three floors held the Roerich Museum, the Master Institute of United Arts, Corona Mundi Art Center, Urusvati Institute and other related institutions.  The upper floors held 344 apartments--from one to three rooms in size--for artists.  Because it was an apartment hotel, tenants had minimal kitchen facilities (called pantries), and ate for the most part in a large common restaurant.

Roerich reportedly was very pleased with the stepped black cornerstone with the Master's logo.  photo by Deansfa

On May 10, 1929 The Highland Democrat reported that the Master Institute of United Arts was "soon to move into new quarters in its twenty-four story Master Building."  The article explained that the institute "is organized in harmony with the teachings of its founder, Nicholas Roerich, the internationally renowned artist and philosopher, who believes that art in all its branches should be made easily accessible to all people.  In accordance with this believe the Master Institute unites under one roof classes in music, painting, sculpture, architecture, opera, ballet and drama."

The Roerich Museum opened five months later, on October 17, with Nicholas Roerich as guest of honor.  The exhibition consisted of about 1,000 of Roerich's paintings.  The Horschs continued to be deeply involved.  Nellie later told a reporter "We worked hard, day and night, but that was no sacrifice, it was our pleasure.  We had no self-interest--we simply wanted to help artists and derived great satisfaction from their creative endeavors."

The Depression years caused financial problems; but it was private tension between Roerich and Horsch (The New York Times described the problem saying "the two men had a falling out").  Court battles ensued over who had control of the building.  Louis Horsch was awarded control by the courts in 1932, and the Roerich Museum was evicted in 1938.  

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

On June 4 that year The New York Sun reported on the opening of the "recently organized Riverside Museum."  The article said "The Roerich paintings which once clogged the walls, have been taken down and store elsewhere in the building, leaving seven spacious galleries on the second floor for the display of works of more varied and general interest."  The opening exhibition featured works of 60 American painters and 22 sculptures.  Over the coming decades, according to The New York Times later, the museum would show works by "American and international artists, including Rockwell, Kent, Alfred Maurer, John Sloan, Jean Liberte, Stuart Davis, Franklin Watkins and Aaron Goodleman."

The other spaces in the lower floors became home to the groups like State Federation of Women's and the Irish Foundation headquarters.  

While the drama had played out below, the many of the apartments continued to house tenants involved in the arts.  Violinist Miriam Solovieff lived here with her mother, Elizabeth, and younger sister, Vivienne, in 1939.  She was described by the Albany newspaper The Times-Union, as an "18-year old genius."  Their "richly furnished apartment" was the scene of unspeakable tragedy on December 29 that year.

Miriam's parents were estranged, her father, Cantor Aaron Solovieff, having had lived in San Francisco for five years.  He showed up at the apartment that day, pleading with Elizabeth, to take him back.  While they argued, Miriam continued practicing on her Stradivarius violin.

The newspaper recounted "The cantor's final plea was to Miriam...When she refused, her father produced [a] gun and fired twice at his unusually-talented daughter.  The bullets went wide and, still clutching her priceless instrument, she ran to a neighbor's apartment."  Miriam had been struck in the neck, but not seriously wounded.  

When police arrived they found a gruesome scene.  Solovieff first shot his wife, then his 12-year old daughter who was in bed with a cold.  "Then, returning to his unconscious wife's sprawling figure, he sat in a chair and raising the revolver to his temple, pulled the trigger."

Not all of the residents, of course, were artists or musicians.  Ella de Winter, a refugee from Germany, lived here at the time.  The Master Building provided safe deposit boxes for residents' valuables, one of which was used by Ella for her jewelry and cash.

In August 1940 the management hired a new night clerk, 26-year old James H. Smith.  Only two months later, on Friday night, October 25, he used a master key to access Ella de Winter's safe deposit box.  He and a friend, unemployed hotel clerk Raymond Hyde, divided the $10,540 in cash (about $192,000 in today's money), pocketed the $11,000 worth of jewelry, and fled.  Following their arrest, police said "the men bought an automobile for $150 and toured night clubs in various parts of the city."

Beginning around 1942 the Manhattan Camera Club held its exhibitions in the Riverside Museum.  The annual show in 1946 was deemed by journalist Norris Harkness of The New York Sun "unusual, if not unique."  As always, the show included the best work of the year, but much of this exhibition "is given over to a pictorial history of the growth of the club."

A most peculiar and horrific incident occurred on November 8, 1964.  Alice Miller, who lived in Huntington, Long Island, was visiting her aunt here.  During the night she either jumped or fell from the 18th floor window.  The Times Record of Troy, New York reported "The body, in night clothes, was found on a third-floor balcony."

On March 17, 1952 The New York Times reported "A spectacular fire broke out last night in an eleventh-floor apartment of the Master Hotel."  The fire had started in the apartment of Elizabeth Clark, who was not at home.  The article said "for a time flames flashed from the windows."

Elizabeth Clark's elderly neighbor, Isaac Rosenstrater, was confined to his bed with a heart condition.  He was carried to the lobby by Fire Lieutenant Sanford Tice and removed to a hospital.  Also hospitalized were Albert Levy and his wife Erma.  They suffered from burns and smoke inhalation.  The blaze was luckily confined to the 11th floor and was extinguished within an hour. 

By 1971 the Horches were living in Florida.  Their son, Frank, took over management of the apartments and their daughter, Oriole Farb, became the museum's director.  On June 17 that year The New York Times announced "The Riverside Museum...is leaving the city in defeat at the end of the month to merge into Brandeis University at Waltham, Mass."  The changing demographics of the neighborhood made it impossible to support the staff of 30 required to maintain the museum.

In 1975, according to one account, "many of the building's 344 apartments are still occupied by artists."  Frank Horch lived on the 17th floor of the building, by now known as the Master Apartments, with his photographer wife, Nancy, and their two young sons.  At around 6:00 on the morning of February 21, 1975, Horch was found dead in the basement of the building.  The New York Times reported "Mr. Horch, 45 years old, was shot three times."  His wallet was missing, causing detectives to say that robbery was not ruled out as a motive.

The 274-seat theater had been home to the Equity Library Theater since 1961.  Eric Pace of The New York Times described it as "where ambitious, unpaid actors display their talents in revivals."  In November 1978 it was looking for a new home.  Pace wrote "The nonprofit theater's management still hopes the landlords, Louis and Netti Horch, will change their minds, and it has asked audiences to sign a petition for that."

The Horches (whom the theater's managing director said were "quite lovely people") were concerned about the building's security and the safety of the residents should fire break out in the theater.  As it turned out, the "quite lovely people" agreed to allow the Equity Library Theater to remain for another 12 years.  It closed because of financial problems during the 1989-90 season.

Peter Glebo, an artist, photographer, choreographer and director, was a resident in 2016.  The president of Tommy Tune, Inc., he devised a way to connect his neighbors that year.  James Barron, writing in The New York Times on May 8, 2016 described his scheme.  "He would photograph them and display the images in gallery space in the lobby." 

Tommy Tune stopped by when the exhibition opened in May.  He said "Peter wasn't content to just do pictures and put them up.  He said 'How can I make it site-specific?'"    Glebo photographed the residents within the building.  Tune called the concept "a genius idea."

phtograph by Deansfa

Harvey Wiley Corbett's Art Deco design was deemed an individual landmark on December 5, 1989.  

The School of Applied Design for Women -- 160 Lexington Ave.

As the 19^th century drew to a close, collectors had begun to take American art seriously.  Millionaires, who had for decades scoured Europe for paintings and sculptures to adorn their mansions, took a new pride in home-grown artists.  Another movement was taking hold as well.  The world of professional art had been one almost exclusively of men.  Now female artists sought equality.

On May 31, 1892, socialite, painter and philanthropist Ellen Dunlap Hopkins founded the New York School of Applied Design for Women.  Ellen came from the old and respected Pond family of Massachusetts.  Initially the school was only a step removed from a trade school, its goals were to afford “women instruction which may enable them to earn a livelihood by the employment of their taste and manual dexterity in the application of ornamental design to manufacture and the arts.”

The New York Times explained, “Mrs. Hopkins’s theory in starting the school…was that with the increasing demand for original and artistic designs for carpets, oil cloths, wall papers, silks, book covers, &c., there was a field for the employment of women of natural art taste and ability, could they obtain practical training at a low cost.”

At the school’s opening, Ellen Dunlap Hopkins described her initial 45 students as, “women who were determined to study in order to compete with men in the arts, and whose endeavor it was to make places for themselves in the branches of their choice, not by asking sympathy and not by taking less pay than men, but by the excellence of their work.”

Ellen Dunlap Hopkins rented several floors in a building at Seventh Avenue and 23^rd Street in what had become an artistic center.   The Artist-Artisan Institute Building sat nearby at Nos. 136-140 West 23^rd Street.  The building was shared with the School for Industrial Art and Technical Design for Women.  The Associated Artists was at No. 115 East 23^rd Street; and an artists’ studio building had opened at No. 44 West 22^nd Street.

Only three months after the school opened, it created waves across the nation.  The New-York Tribune reported that a collection of “designs of wallpaper, carpets, silks, rugs, book-covers, architectural plans and designs and water colors, all the work of the new students,” was exhibited in New York before being sent to the World’s Fair in Chicago.  “From there it was forwarded by request to the Midwinter Fair in San Francisco, and has already been spoken for by the Countess of Aberdeen, to be exhibited at the coming Canadian exhibition.”  The fledgling school earned four gold medals in Chicago and three in San Francisco.

An exhibition in the rented space in 1903 included these designs based on floral forms.  photograph by Byron Company from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

Students paid a $50 tuition fee per year.  After passing through the elementary department “where the student is taught the first steps,” according to the Tribune on September 30, 1894, she moved to the “advanced” class where “she is left to work out her own artistic salvation.”

The concept and success of the school was quickly noticed overseas.  Just two years after its founding, Ellen Dunlap Hopkins was invited by the British royal family to establish a branch school in London.  That school was opened under the patronage of “Princess Christian, the Princess of Wales, and other members of the English royal family and the nobility,” reported The New York Times. 

Meanwhile, the student body of 45 had grown to nearly 400 by then.  On September 30, 1894, the New-York Tribune noted that the school “is self-supporting, and the work of its students is so constantly in demand that the supply is inadequate.”  The rented space on West 23^rd Street could not accommodate the growing school for many more years.

On January 30, 1906, The New York Times reported, “The property at the northwest corner of Lexington Avenue and Thirtieth Street is to be made the site of a new six-story building, which will be occupied by an art school.”  The art school was, of course, the School for Applied Design for Women, and the two houses sat at 160 and 162 Lexington Avenue.

Plans for the new building were filed by the architectural firm of Pell & Corbett and construction did not begin until 1908.  It was partner Harvey Wiley Corbett who designed the building.  The choice of architects was doubtlessly influenced by Corbett’s position as an instructor at the school. 

The structure was completed late in 1908 and the school officially moved in on January 18, 1909.  The total cost was $215,000—approximately $5.75 million in 2015—paid for by private donations.  The New-York Tribune noted, “the largest contributors being J. Pierpont Morgan and Mrs. Collis P. Huntington, who gave $15,000 and $10,000 respectively.”

Vintage brownstone homes surround the completed structure.  photo by Wurts Bros. from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York

The costs were also offset by fund-raising events like the “large bridge tournament” at the Hotel Gotham ballroom on January 29, 1909.  Socialites played for prizes donated by some of the most recognized names in art and literature.  The New York Times listed “autograph sketches and books from artists and authors, including Ernest Thompson Seton, Arnest Peixotto, Alphonse Mucha, Brander Matthews, Richard Watson Gilder, and Mark Twain.”

Corbett had produced a seven-story structure of brick and stone with an impressive bas relief frieze above the second floor highly reminiscent of the Elgin Marbles.  Two-story polished gray engaged columns supported a cornice which somewhat playfully zig-zagged in and out following their contours.  Corbett included a good-humored single column on the Lexington Avenue elevation.

A lonely column on the Lexington Avenue elevation was a tongue-in-cheek touch.

The increased floor space included an exhibition room and even before the formal dedication, a permanent exhibition of work done by the advanced students was opened.  “This is something that the management has long desired to have, but in the old, limited quarters, in West 23d street, it was impossible,” reported the New-York Tribune on March 2, 1909.

Although Ellen Dunlap Hopkins lived in style in a mansion at 31 East 30^th Street, the new building included apartments for her.  They would prove effective for holding receptions, luncheons and other entertainments for the benefit of the school.

Among guests received here were the Countess of Aberdeen and Mrs. Andrew Carnegie, who visited on January 17, 1913 and “spent several hours there,” according to The New York Times the following day.  The newspaper noted, “The school, which is the only one of its kind in the country, has 560 students.”

A Roman inspired frieze wrapped the structure.

As the student body increased, so did the curriculum.  The exhibit of student work that occupied four full floors of the building on May 16, 1922 reflected the expanded courses.  The New-York Tribune said it “included work in illustration, fashion design, commercial art, composition work, textile design, historic ornament, flower painting, architecture and interior decoration, antique drawing and sketching.”

The socially powerful with whom Ellen Dunlap Hopkins rubbed shoulders was reflected in the guest list of a reception and musicale she held in her apartments here on January 15, 1928.  The guest of honor was around-the-world aviator Lt. Leigh Wade of the U.S. Navy.  In the room that night were Manhattan’s socially prominent, including Mrs. Stuyvesant Fish, Mr. and Mrs. George F. Baker, Jr., Mrs. Charles A. Van Rensselaer, Mrs. Andrew Carnegie, Mrs. Benjamin Harrison, Mrs. John Henry Hammond, Mrs. John W. Alexander, and Mr. and Mrs. Elihu Root among others.

The students enjoyed a social life as well.  On May 13, 1929 The New York Times noted, “The annual student dance of the New York School of Applied Design for Women…will be held on Friday evening in the library of the school.”

The indefatigable work of Ellen Dunlap Hopkins was recognized in December 1938 when she was conferred the decoration of Les Palmes d’Officier d’Academie by Minister of Education of the French Government.  The award had been established by Napoleon I in 1806.

Two months later, nearly half a century after she established the School of Applied Design for Women, Ellen Dunlap Hopkins died at the age of 81.  Her funeral was held in the school on February 6, 1939.  Among the distinguished mourners was the architect of the building, Harvey Wiley Corbett, who was now President of the school.  He would hold the position until his death in 1954.

The School of Applied Design for Women continued to respond to the changing professional needs of its students and the community.  On July 14, 1940, the school announced a new department for teaching costume design.

But the school’s most radical change came about in 1944, when it merged with Lauros M. Phoenix’s art institute.  The merger meant that men were now included in the student body.  In the early 1970’s, the New York-Phoenix School of Design added photography to the curriculum, an area that gained popularity and importance.

In 1974 the school merged again—this time with the Pratt Institute.  Renamed the Pratt-Phoenix School of Design it continued in the building still unaltered after seven decades.     The exterior of structure was given landmark status in 1977.

When Touro College took over the edifice, it initiated an interior renovation, completed in 1990.  The $750,000 renovation converted the interior spaces to modern classrooms.  But Touro’s ownership would not last especially long.  On May 29, 2007 the building was put on the market, the announcement saying, “The property is currently vacant awaiting the next user to enjoy its voluminous interior, high ceilings, abundant light and air and architectural grandeur.”

Touro College sold the building to Lexington Landmark Properties for $8.2 million.  In 2012 Dover Street Market, a luxury retail fashion store, signed a 15-year lease on the entire building.  Despite the ongoing lease, in March 2015 real estate firm Walter & Samuels purchased the building for $24.5 million.

Because of its landmark designation, the exterior of the astonishingly-unaltered School of Applied Design for Women building looks exactly today as it did in January 1909 when it opened.

thanks to Paul Stumpf for requesting this post.
photographs by the author 

The Fanciful Artists' Row at Nos. 4 to 26 East 8th Street

photo by Alice Lum

In the mid-1830s East 8^th Street north of Washington Square was lined with comfortable brick and brownstone residences of the upper-middle classes built on land owned by Sailors’ Snug Harbor.  Here well-to-do bankers and merchants lived on what was sometimes referred to as “The Row.”   Designed in the ubiquitous Federal and newly-popular Greek Revival styles, they were dignified and proper; like the families within.

By 1916 the quiet residential character of the street had changed.  The Washington Square neighborhood was rapidly becoming Manhattan’s Bohemian section as artists, poets and writers sought the picturesque atmosphere of Greenwich Village. 

That year Sailors’ Snug Harbor trust commissioned 43-year old Harvey Wiley Corbett to renovate The Row in order to make the long line of outdated houses profitable properties again.  Corbett, a Beaux Arts trained architect, was changing his approach as the 20^th century dawned.  He would go on to design large Art Deco buildings, but for now he would settle for quaint.

The old houses from No. 4 to 26 East 8^th Street were not razed; they were remodeled into apartments intended to lure the artistic new residents of Greenwich Village.   Inside, the opulent, spacious parlors and the wide staircases were gutted.  In their place studios and spartan apartments were installed.

Iron balconies, inset tile and a variegated roof line created a quaint Don Quixote-type stage set -- photo by Alice Lum

But on the outside, Corbett transformed the twelve houses into a Mediterranean fantasy.  The stoops were removed and the brick and brownstone stuccoed over.  No trace of the venerable structures were discernible as arched windows, red tiled overhanging roofs, whimsical iron pseudo-balconies and inset tile work created a street scene more expected in Padua than Manhattan.

Part of the row shortly after completion.

The apartments did, indeed, attract writers and artists—Max Eastman who edited The Masses lived in No. 12 in 1917 and popular writer E. B. White who wrote for The New Yorker and was author of Charlotte’s Web had a duplex at No. 16 for five years starting in 1935.    In 1921, The Nation writer Harold deWolf Fuller, who wrote the scholarly work “Romeo and Juliette” lived at No. 8. 

In 1917 editor Max Eastman lived at No. 12, marked by Arts-and-Crafts hued tiles -- photo by Alice Lum

There were other, mainstream, tenants as well, of course.  Harmon Bushnell Craig was one of the first residents of No. 24.  A Harvard graduate, he joined the American Ambulance Corps during World War I.  On July 17, 1917 he was killed by a shell at Dombasle, Verdun.

Not all the tenants were working class, either.  The affluent Mrs. Gilman Robinson, widow of Dr. Robinson lived in No. 6 in 1922, the same year her daughter Barbara Paul was married in Brookline, Massachusetts.  And in No. 24 lived another wealthy widow, Mrs. Robert Hutsel whose daughter Hilda Emily married William Harold Bokum in a fashionable Grace Church wedding on October 23, 1937.

photo by Alice Lum

Of the artists who rented on The Row, perhaps the longest-lasting was abstract painter Manfred Schwartz.  The artist leased the top floor of No. 22 as his artist studio in 1948 (he lived at 555 Park Avenue).    In August 1968 Schwartz’s studio burned, destroying approximately six years of his paintings and causing what he termed “incalculable” damage.  

A row of colorful inset tiles contrasts with the white stucco -- photo by Alice Lum

Two years later, with his studio still at No. 22 after over two decades, the esteemed painter and lithographer died of cancer at University Hospital at the age of 60.

Artist and inventor Walter Houmere added to the list of celebrated tenants, living at No. 10 until his death at 82 years of age in 1977.

photo by Alice Lum

The amazing stretch of stuccoed buildings that the AIA Guide to New York City calls “a stage set” is remarkably intact nearly a century after the 1916 remodeling.  And buried deep inside are the walls of fashionable houses built nearly a century earlier.

Many thanks to reader Connie Allen for requesting this post.