Anatomy of a Construction Site photo

A return to the glorious photos of the past, in which we try to provide some context by isolating certain subjects. The above picture was made on June 2, 1949. Let's take a closer look.    

    

Looking south from 47th Street, the newly named Franklin D. Roosevelt Drive offers two lanes each way. Off in the distance are the beams from the Con Edison power plant.

View of the construction site. At top left, the skeleton of The Secretariat building.

Another view, this time featuring some people walking.    

The new construction could not hide the one irritant, the row of smokestacks just south 0f the United Nations, the Con Edison plant. They would remain in place until it closed in 2005; in the meantime, they spewed soot.

And finally, the big three. In this photo, No. 25 and No. 45 take a beating with buildings along First Avenue torn down and replaced with stonework, the modernization of the 42nd Street Tunnel and 43rd Street staircase, and the construction of a tunnel beneath First Avenue. 

The good news is that all of these changes take place on the buildings' rear ends. 

NEW YORKER Ads, 1930

 A return to the pages of the New Yorker for a good dose of Tudor Cityana. These are advertisements which ran in the summer of 1930, rendered in a way that only the magazine's readership can appreciate.

June 21, 1930

LET BROOKLYN AND THE BRONX WEEP

Where man conquered is he destroyed. Glorious wheels, space-annihilating as the sandals of Mercury, have betrayed him. . . have delivered him into the hands of the Interborough Rapid Transit Company. . . Let the Boroughs lament. Let Brooklyn and the Bronx weep. Let Manhattan and Queens gnash their teeth. But let them not utterly despair. For there remains as a refuge from all the ills of subway traveling, the pleasant pastures of Tudor City.   

⸻⸻⸻⸻

July 5. 1930

SUBWAY FLOWERS

There is beauty everywhere. The little pot of flowers in the window of a filthy tenement. Sunlight reflected in a puddle. Surely in the subway this beauty is found in the wonderful resignation which dwells in the faces of nearly all subway travelers. Their time is wasted; their vitality is destroyed; they are hot, uncomfortable and crowded. Yet with what beautiful meekness they bear their lot. Only the rebels, the malcontents, the discontented, the disaffected ‒ call them what you will, we admit it ‒ come to Tudor City.

⸺⸺⸺⸺⸺⸺⸺

July 19. 1930

YOURS FOR FEWER FEET

Before cobblers went in for orthopedics and became big boot and shoe men, there used to be an affinity, often remarked, between cobbling and atheism. It was no coincidence. Humanity shows at its worst about the feet. Too many feet seen concurrently are destructive of faith in God and man alike ‒ another reason why subway traveling is so sapping to the morale. And have you noticed that in the subway for every head there are two feet ‒ and it's the feet they use? Come, oh come, to Tudor City where feet are fewer and walked with, not thought with.     

⸺⸺⸺⸺⸺⸺⸺

August 9, 1930

MIRACLES ‒ INTERBOROUGH AND OTHERWISE

The only kind of Rapid Transit known to our remote ancestors was operated by the hand of God. It took the form of direct ascent into heaven without the preliminary dying ‒ pleasant for the chosen and economical for the heirs. In these degenerate days Rapid Transit has fallen on evil times ‒ become merely Interborough. Subway travelers, however, can still savor the joy of a real miracle by rising out of the depths and coming heavenward, Tudor Cityward. But they must make the ascent on their own. For believe it or not, it is the hand of the photographer and not the Almighty uplifting the little group above.  

⸺⸺⸺⸺⸺⸺⸺

August 23, 1930

GENTLEMEN GOING TO BUSINESS

NEW YORK, 1930

With all due deference to Knox, Stetson, Truly Warner, et al, it's not the hat that matters but what's under it. And we put it to you plainly and straightforwardly: exactly what is under the hat of a man who, when he could live peacefully in Tudor City, prefers to throw himself twice a day into the greatest crush since the invention of the sardine. Ten seconds impartial thought, please. . . No, five are enough!   

For more about the New Yorker and Tudor City, see here.

INSTAGRAMMABLE

Once again, it's time to say thank you to all of the talented Instagrammers for all their hard work.

Chrysler Building gargoyles set against a backdrop of The Manor ‒ with The Cloister in the shadows ‒ by gettinviggy

"Rolling the dice in Tudor City" by hecticful      

"RIP Tudor City Greens" by thewigmusic        

"Lost in nothingness" by perceptionshot                   

        

  Manhattanhenge madness by chief770                       

Illustrations from "The French Plan"

 

Today's post deals with illustrations found in the book, The French Plan, and we have chosen some pictures that are rarely seen. The first depicts the North Park ‒ through the branches can be seen The Manor.  

The Tenth Unit is Essex House (that's The Woodstock rising behind it).

Haddon Hall, Hardwicke Hall and Hatfield House, the 3Hs, aka the Eighth Unit.

The Hermitage assumes Sixth Unit status.

The Eleventh Unit was never built, but was still being talked about in 1929 as an option. See our earlier post here.

Showing The Manor, No. 45 and No. 25. 

For more about the French Plan, see here.

THE INQUIRING FOTOGRAPHER Returns Yet Again

Once again, it's time for a trip down memory lane via a tribute to the Inquiring Fotographer, a question/answer/photo column published every day in the Daily News. 

April 9, 1952

⸺⸺⸺⸺⸺⸺

November 28, 1969

⸺⸺⸺⸺⸺⸺

June 6, 1973 

Past collections of the Inquiring Fotographer can be found here and here and here.   

More MISCELLANY

Another serving of items from times past and present.

First, there is this picture of the Tudor City neighborhood. The smokestacks of the ConEd plant were painted red, white and blue, how festive! 

     

⸺⸺⸺⸺⸺⸺

Made in in 1920s, this photo depicts the intersection of 42nd Street and 1st Avenue. Going north are three titans of meatpacking industry: New York Veal & Mutton, United Dressed Beef Company, and Wilson & Company. As for the building with the billboards, the main one advertises a Brake Specialist, while the others are indecipherable.   

⸺⸺⸺⸺⸺⸺

From the New York Times, March 24, 1927 [six months before opening].

The Tudor City businessman may commute for two months and still not travel as far as the average commuter does in a single day. For his commuting to the great midtown business district consists of a five-minute walk.

Tudor City has the dignity and repose of Park Avenue, but a more convenient ‒ quieter ‒ and with materially lower rentals.

Tudor City will be under the single management of the FRED F. FRENCH Companies, the guarantee of a most efficient service. . .

⸺⸺⸺⸺⸺⸺

Another item has turned up for the elusive Woodstock Tower Restaurant, this postcard of its interior.

⸺⸺⸺⸺⸺⸺

Finally, we have Missy Peregrym, one of the leads in the TV series FBI, photographed with the owner of the Tudor City Steakhouse, Mirso Lekic. 

Prospect Tower's MILLION DOLLAR listing

It has taken Prospect Tower nearly a century, but again there is a glimmer of hope: a sale price of over $1,000,000. This three-bedroom, three-bathroom unit ‒ on and off the market since 2021 ‒ is now available for $1,695,ooo.

  

 The northern-facing living room is so large. . .

. . . that it requires two photographs to capture its length.

It has a kitchen that's semi-concealed behind glass doors.

The master bedroom.

The smallest bedroom comes complete with two modern Murphy beds, as shown above. 

The floor plan.

Here is its Streeteasy listing.