One of my favorite campuses (campii?) in the world is the Royal Hospital at Greenwhich. The site was originally home to the Palace of Placentia, a royal palace built by Humphrey, Duke of Gloucester in 1428. Placentia was the primary royal residence for two centuries up unto the Civil War, after which it fell into ruin. In 1694, the Royal Naval Hospital for Seamen was established as a home for old sailors, and grandiose architecture was required to show the monarchic splendor of a royal foundation. (more…)

I received such complaints regarding my opinion of the University Club that I offer up these images as a peace offering. Above, an elevation of the 54th St façade.

A view from Fifth Avenue.

The oft-praised library.

The NYPL digital gallery has provided me with yet another photo to add to my Dewey Arch collection.

One bit of would-be classical New York I can’t seem to find much information on is the 1904 plan by Thomas J. George for a beaux-arts civic center to be built upon what we now call Roosevelt Island (previous Bramwell’s then Welfare Island), an image of which you can see below. I inquired with the Roosevelt Island Historical Society, and all they could really tell me was the date, designer, and that it merits a mention in the book ‘Skyscraper Rivals’. I’m rather fond of it. Certainly better than what they’ve got on Roosevelt Island now.

One of my favorite buildings in Midtown is the Board of Directors office of the U.S. Trust, at 9-11 West 54th Street. This fairly reserved wide neo-Georgian townhouse was designed by McKim Mead & White as a residence for Mr. James J. Goodwin when the West 50’s was full of beautiful townhouses instead of mediocre office buildings. (more…)

One of the best illustrators alive is Elliott Banfield. I have seen his work a few times in the New York Sun, but only managed to finally investigate him on the web this evening (thanks to the Irish Elk), and his website offers a plethora of wonderful retro illustrations that prove his skill and his worth. Why, if I ran a newspaper – one with a real budget I mean – I’d have this guy be the in-house illustrator and might be tempted to ditch photographs altogether.

Mr. Banfield even gives us a wonderful impression of his proposal for a September 11 monument, inspired by critic Henry Reed. I love it. It oozes Gotham and reeks of Manhattan. I especially enjoy the use of New York’s civic arms on the base of the pillar, supported, appropriately, by a policeman and a fireman, rather than the official settler and native. The heraldic achievement of our city is, I’ll admit, somewhat provincial with its windmills and beavers, but all the more endearing for it, if you ask me.

Huzzah for Elliott Banfield!

Here’s a window from the Goodhue-designed Christ Church Bronxville, with a close-up of one panel below.

The Classical Values blog had a post back in October ’03 entitled A Classical Arch in New York, which makes mention of the triumphal arch built to comemmorate Admiral Dewey’s victory over the Spanish in the eponymous war between our two nations round the turn of the century.

The Dewey Arch was only a temporary structure built of a plaster-like material, and thus did not survive. A previous temporary wood-and-plaster triumphal arch was built to commemorate General Washington in Washington Square, and proved so popular that it was decided to replace it with a permanent stone version. Unfortunately, the more attractive beaux-arts Dewey Arch, which also featured a colonnade, was not made permanent as its location in Madison Square would have obstructed the flow of vehicles and required a rethinking of the traffic flow.

The only existing reminder of the Arch near the site is a bar and restaurant called Dewey’s Flatiron.

Nonetheless, here are a few photos of the lost arch.

A view of the Dewey Arch, colonnade, and Madison Square, with Stanford White’s towered Madison Square Garden in the background. Broadway and its trolley line cross the colonnade’s axis. (more…)

I have but one thing to say about the late Susan Sontag: Nearly every obituary of the intellectual reminds us that “she often described herself as a ‘zealot of seriousness'”. That someone would, in all seriousness, put themselves forth as a ‘zealot of seriousness’ makes it bordering on impossible for me to take her seriously.

Nonetheless, may she rest in peace.

Gothamist picks up the idea of the City of New York seceding from either the State or the Country. Normally I’m in favor of anything seceding from anything else. However, the City and State have to stick together. I wouldn’t mind the State of New York regaining complete sovereignty, but I think we’d want to take Connecticut and northern New Jersey with us for the sake of geographic integrity.

New York currency illustrations from an article on secession in New York magazine.

I AM BACK HOME in New York after having completed my Martinmas term examinations. This morning, my mother, sister, brother-in-law, and I went out for breakfast to celebrate my “triumphant return from another term at university.” (I suggested it might be wiser to wait until the casualty reports are released before we declare it a triumph).

Nonetheless, I now have three weeks of time almost entirely free from obligations to do whatever I please. It is perhaps how a man spends his free time that defines him, as free time is the foundation of civilization itself. Roger Kimball reflects on this in a recent Armavirumque posting, mentioning Josef Pieper and Leisure: The Basis of Culture, a book I was first introduced to by Robert O’Brien whilst still half-asleep at 7:30 in the morning waiting for a train at Leuchars station so we could attend the Tridentine mass in Edinburgh.

Leisure, by which we mean doing something merely for its own sake, is entirely different from mere pleasure. Unfortunately for the English language, we oft mistake the two for synonyms. It is leisure in that latter sense, of idleness and cheap pleasure, which our good friend Prof. Richard Demarco resoundly condemned in a lecture he gave at St Andrews. This kind of leisure, he stated, was leading to the destruction of Scotland, of Europe, and of civilization. Art today, according to Richard, is a collection of usually talentless kitsch which seeks merely to create an arrangement that is pleasing or clever. Art, in Richard Demarco’s world, should not aim to be pleasing, or to be clever, but should have as its essence the very highest that man can achieve: the sanctification of souls. In pursuit of pleasure rather than leisure, tourism is taking over entire countries; a false economy which can enslave the entire population of a given area.

It is certainly rampant in St Andrews. There are many good reasons to visit St Andrews. The third-oldest university in the English-speaking world, for example, or perhaps to see ruins of one of the greatest shrines in Christendom, bearing witness to the visceral damage wrought by the Protestant Revolution (we should refuse to dignify that revulsion with the name of ‘reformation’; it destroyed and replaced, not reformed). Most, however, come for the golf.

While niches once full remain empty from the holocausts of five centuries ago, the Scottish Parliament would prefer to spend its millions (which, you must never forget, are the people’s millions) on encouraging this pointless and ineffective idleness, Demarco pointed out. More recently, South Street, where I live, will soon be shorn of its beautiful trees, those which make it one of the most inviting and comely thoroughfares in the Royal Burgh. This must be done, we are told, to increase the number of parking spaces, the paucity of which might be driving away potential tourists. Perish the thought! Heaven forbid a town be run for the benefit of its inhabitants, for the benefit of itself (but surely by now they have already forbidden Heaven).

As Mr. Kimball points out, the opposite of the former leisure, the leisure which Pieper posits is the basis of culture, is busyness. Perhaps we can extend this to business, for it is the dollar, the pound, and the euro which enslave St Andrews to transient tourists. Without tourism, some say, St Andrews, or Oxford or Venice or wherever, would not survive. But at what price survival? And who defines this survival? That these places are still on the map and are inhabited is for sure. But in some sense have not these places, while encouraging tourism as a mode of survival, been so changed and transformed that in fact they have not survived. Decrepit and rundown, they may have been, but at least they had authenticity; at least they were themselves. Now most of the goods sold in St Andrews – saltires, fake kilts, tam o’shanters, and Scotland t-shirts – are in fact things that can be purchased in half the towns in Scotland, and now with the advent of the internet, you can purchase them while you remain at home. Their cheapness is only accompanied by the sentiment of being a souvenir in the original French sense of the word: to remember. But they are remembrances for short memories, and likely will be thrown out within a year, because we, and it all comes back to this, do not have the time for longer memories.

Thus one of the chief values of an education must be free time. St Andrews affords this, I am glad to say; especially if you are an arts student and are not aiming for a first. All too often friends of mine at universities in the States or at Oxbridge are busy. They are either busy with busywork, (assignments for school which must be done to stay in the university but have little graded value or academic merit) or else busy with social activity and other amusements which vary greatly as to whether one’s in a big city or not (most often the case with NYU students I find).

When I finally start my university, we must make sure that students have enough free time then, perhaps the greatest argument for not locating it in an overactive urban metropolis. Though of course a good part of education is that which transmits information and ideas and, more importantly, inculcates moral values, much must be left up to the student. There is an inherent value in reading not what is required but what is desired.

And so I will get on with my post-exam break, reading the Pickwick Papers, the Everlasting Man, and This Side of Paradise, hopefully with some time to browse through Haldane’s Faithful Reason: Essays Catholic and philosophical (which, on a typographical note, makes ample use of the Gill Sans font).

Whilst rummaging through my room at home in New York last week, I came across this article which I had cut out of the ill-fated European in 1998 written by none other than Mr. Gerald Warner, KM. I was fourteen years old in 1998 and the European folded about a year later. Click here to read in jpg form. (A large file, some browsers may require resizing to view the text at a readable size).

Dr. Robert O’Hara (who runs one of my favorite website) recently took it upon himself to visit the University of Durham and provided a few snapshots. Of most interest to me is University College Durham, situated in ancient Durham Castle. I think perhaps when I start my university our very first college might be partly modelled on this. (more…)

Newsdesigner.com has an interesting post enlightening us to the history of the ‘dingbat’, the vignette which can be found atop the International Herald Tribune.

The design first originated in the nameplate (also called, varyingly, the ‘masthead’, ‘banner’, or ‘flag’) of the New-York Tribune. The Tribune became the New York Herald Tribune, which my Aunt Naomi informs me was a very good newspaper while it lasted. The NYHT died in 1966, being merged into the ill-fated New York World Journal Tribune (aka the Widget) which only produced a few numbers before labor troubles killed it too.

The Herald Tribune, however, has two remnants which still exist today: the Paris edition (now the IHT) which continued under the auspices of the New York Times and the Washington Post, now solely owned by the Times; and New York magazine, which started out as a weekly supplement to the Herald Tribune.

New York’s Wallabout Market was once the second-largest market in the world. From about 1884 onwards, vendors would gather in this district adjacent to Wallabout Bay in Brooklyn and sell their various wares. It was then that the market vendors had been banned from Fulton Street for making too much noise, and so took up their trades further down by the Wallabout Canal, next to the New York Naval Shipyard, more commonly known as the Brooklyn Navy Yard (founded 1801, decommissioned 1966).

The market featured permanent two-story brick structures designed in a nostalgic Dutch style, commemorating the Netherlandish origins of New York and Brooklyn, centered around an open plaza known as Farmers’ Square where stalls were erected. The centerpiece was a tall clock tower, seen at right and further below.

The market buzzed with activity from about midnight until just after dawn, by which time trading had died down. During the majority of the daylight hours the vast market stood empty. (more…)

One of the hidden gems of our county is St. Paul’s Church, Eastchester. The church has been within the City of Mt. Vernon since the late 19th century, but was the original town church for Eastchester, situated on the village green. The first church building on the site, a simple wooden structure, was built in 1692. The current structure was built in 1763, with numerous additions and subtractions since that date. (more…)

A comment of Mr. Hiss on Fr. Sibley’s blog mentioned the Church of St. Jean Baptiste on the Upper East Side. There are few churches in New York, let alone all America, which are as beautiful as St. Jean Baptiste (or “St. JB’s” as people ridiculously call it). A restoration only a few years ago brought the church back to its full splendour.

It used to be the national parish of the French Canadians in New York, hence the French name, and is now home to the National Shrine of St. Anne, formerly further downtown in what became St. Anne’s Armenian Catholic Cathedral (one of a few beautiful and very active church buildings being pawned off by the wretched bureaucrats who run the Archdiocese of New York).

The church is open most of the day and definitely worth stepping into even if you only have a few minutes. Their parish website (link above) has a somewhat detailed history of the parish and the architecture of the church.

The parish and girls’ high school are now staffed by priests of the Congregation of the Blessed Sacrament as well as sisters from the Congrégation de Notre-Dame, and the Body of Christ is adored all day long except during Mass.

I stumbled upon this rather drole piece from 1902 about the prophesized New-Yorkification of London in Harmsworth’s Magazine. “If London Were Like New York: A Peak At The Metropolis After The American Invasion” is accompanied by some amusing illustrations of the anonymous authors vision of the future.

Trafalgar Square is rededicated to George Washington, and decorated to celebrate his birthday.

An el is built right through the heart of the City.

There’s even a precursor of our famous American fast food. Perhaps the most prophetic of the author’s predictions!

For the architectaphiles in the audience, the designs for the complete do-over of les Halles (one of Paris’s urban eyesores) are out.

Le Figaro‘s take on it.
Images of the accepted design and rejected proposals from le Figaro.
The New York Times writes on it as well. (Registration might be required).

When one thinks New York and thinks libraries, the obvious place which comes to mind is the New York Public Library, one of the largest libraries in the world with one of the most beautiful homes in Bryant Park on 42nd St. The Public Library was formed in the mid-19th century by a merger of the private Astor, Lennox, and Linden libraries. The great metropolis, however, is home to a much older bibliotheca called the New York Society Library, founded in 1754.

In that year, six ‘civic-minded individuals’ formed the New York Society with the aim of founding a library which would be “very useful as well as ornamental to the city”. The ‘city library’ was given a room in the old City Hall (later, as Federal Hall, home to the United States Congress), and received a charter from H.M. King George III in 1772. Unfortunately the Library was looted during the Revolution, but survived and was restocked afterwards, receiving a second charter from the Assembly of the State of New York.

The Society Library is still, as it was then, a subscription library which operates almost like a private club, though open to all who will subscribe (and the Society Library’s membership fee is much more economical than a club). The N.Y.S.L. merged with the New York Athenaeum in 1840, and having been located a various locations around lower and mid Manhattan, in July 1937 moved its collection of one hundred and fifty thousand volumes into 53 East 79th Street (seen at top), where it continues today.

I’ve never been to the Library myself, though it seems a suitably comfortable and private location to read or research, and not expensive to boot. Perhaps I will strike up a subscription when I am next in New York as a full-time resident. They even have a Children’s Room which would be useful when progeny appear.

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