The 1926 Warwick Hotel -- No. 65 West 54th Street

photo by Lyndon Jhackie

When the stage curtains opened and millionaire publisher William Randolph Hearst noticed a blonde, blue-eyed Ziegeld Follies chorus girl, his life would forever change.  It was the beginning of a long-standing love affair with Marion Davies that would alter the course of several well-known lives and the fabric of Midtown Manhattan.

Hearst was married with five sons.  Although his affair with the entertainer was public knowledge—she was his constant companion in the years to follow—his devoutly Catholic wife, Millicent, refused a divorce.

By 1926 Hearst’s publishing empire included 27 newspapers and nine major magazines like Cosmopolitan.   He now turned his attention to Midtown Manhattan real estate.    Among his first ventures was the construction of the 36-story Warwick apartment hotel at No. 65 West 54^th Street.  It was located slightly east of the Times Square theater district and Marion Davis played no small part in Heart’s inspiration.   The entire top floor would be her apartment.

Contractor George B. Post & Sons collaborated with architect Emery Roth to produce a soaring brick and stone structure with red-tiled Tuscan towers high above 6^th Avenue.   The completed hotel, costing $5 million, rose 370 feet and contained 512 apartments.  It was touted as one of the two tallest apartment hotels in the world at completion.

The Warick was designed as both a residential and transient hotel and immediately began attracting celebrities from the entertainment industry—a tradition that would last for decades.  On July 1, 1927 The New York Times noted that “Mr. and Mrs. Irving Berlin have closed their apartment at 29 West Forty-sixth Street and will make their headquarters in town at the Warwick during the Summer.”

On June 16 Hearst threw a gala party for the nation’s newest hero, Charles A. Lindbergh, here.  Among those in attendance were the mayor, James Walker, and Charlie Chaplin.

Hearst and his right-hand man Arthur Brisbane continued buying up property between 54^th and 56^th Streets.  With the 6^th Avenue elevated train soon to be torn down he recognized the desirability of the neighborhood without the noisy and dirty El.

He was well-acquainted with producer Florenz Ziegeld who was disgruntled with owner of the New Amsterdam Theatre, Abe Erlanger.   Hearst purchased the property on the corner diagonally-opposite corner the Warwick and bankrolled the new Ziegfeld Theatre.   Ziegfeld laid the cornerstone with much hoopla on December 9, 1926 and the curtain opened for the first time only two months later, on February 2.

The beautiful Marion Davies, seen here on a cigarette card, lived in the Warwick penthouse.--NYPL Collection

The venture was not merely about providing a good friend his own theater.  Hearst was aware that by establishing a major Broadway venue this close to the Warwick he would also attract hotel patrons. 

Millicent Hearst and her husband continued to have a "civilized" arrangement.  He supported her in a lavish lifestyle and she quietly let him lead his own life.    Even Millicent’s close friends recognized the agreement and were unafraid that by patronizing her husband’s hotel they would offend her.  The Times noted on September 24, 1929 that she had returned from California “accompanied by Mrs. John Guthrie Heywood.”  The article reported that Mrs. Hearst would go to “her country place Sands Point, Long Island.  Mrs. Heywood will be at the Hotel Warwick.”

In 1937 Hearst commissioned artist Dean Cornwell to paint murals on the walls of the main dining room of the hotel restaurant, The Raleigh Room.   For his $100,000 fee, Cornwell depicted Sir Walter Raleigh receiving the charter from Queen Elizabeth in 1584 as well as his landing at Roanoke Island.  When the artist and Hearst had a heated disagreement about his fee, Cornwell added images shocking to 1930s diners such as the naked buttocks of native Americans.

A promotional postcard highlighted the murals of the Raleigh Room.

That year Millicent Hearst herself used the Raleigh Room to host a large dinner for the benefit of the Musician’s Emergency Fund.   Among the guests were Mrs. Astor, Mr. and Mrs. Averell Harriman, Irving Berlin and his wife, Mr. and Mrs. Nelson Doubleday and actress Elsa Maxwell.

Although long-term residents of the Warwick were often entertainers, socialites and others lived here as well.  Hungarian-born portrait artist Artur L. Halmi was a resident until his death in 1939.  Among the prominent Americans he painted were Muriel and Consuelo Vanderbilt, Mrs. Oliver Harriman, President William Howard Taft and Millicent Hearst.

While the Hearst Corporation sold the hotel along with several of the Midtown properties in October 1944, it continued to be a favorite—either as a stop-over or residence—for Hollywood and Broadway stars.    Silver screen legends like James Dean, Judy Garland and Elizabeth Taylor stayed here and actress Linda Darnell leased a suite in 1950 as her New York home when not in Hollywood.

Darnell returned here in January 1951 to find her apartment ransacked.   Among the items stolen were jewelry and a mink stole valued at $3,000.

In the 1950s the Warwick was the New York base of the new sensation, Elvis Presley.   In a 1956 interview he conducted from the hotel he discounted the notion that rock and roll music contributed to juvenile delinquency.  “I don’t think that music would have anything to do with it at all,” he said.

In the same interview he admitted he would rather act than sing, “if I were a good actor—of course I’m not a good singer but if I were a good actor—I think that I would like that a little better.”

In February 1965 Loew’s Hotels purchased The Warwick.  After four decades the hotel was showing its age.    Designer Ellen Lehman McCluskey was hired to spruce up the somewhat dowdy interiors.  A six-month renovation involved 100 workers, 4,256 gallons of paint, 11,312 rolls of wallpaper and 23,478 yards of new carpeting.

Like Elvis had done, the invading British bands took suites at the Warwick and held their press conferences from here.   In August 1966 The Beatles hosted a series of press conferences during which they answered questions regarding the Vietnam War (George said “War is wrong, and it’s obvious”), the “more popular than Jesus” controversy (John scoffed “a lot of it’s just a lot of rubbish”) and the group’s sagging popularity.  When John was asked how he felt about the seeming loss pf fans’ attention, he replied “very rich.”  A year later it would be The Monkees who sat in the ballroom of the Warwick holding their press conference.

A 1970s poster depicted The Beatles the Warwick Hotel.

In 1968 Faberge approached screen legend Cary Grant with a proposal to become the cosmetics firm’s “Good Will Ambassador.”  In return for occasional public appearances, the deal would give him a token salary of $15,000 with stock options, a seat on the board of directors and Marion Davies’ full-floor penthouse apartment.

Grant knew the hotel well—it is where he stayed early on in his career.  And it is possible that the offer of the apartment was the deciding factor.  Cary Grant accepted the deal.  He moved out of his apartment in the Plaza Hotel and into the Warwick.  He would stay in the remarkable space with its wrap-around terrace for twelve years.

When RCA flew a new rock singer to New York in 1971 to sign a contract, the record company wanted to impress him. It arranged a suite of rooms in the Warwick Hotel for the young David Bowie.   Reportedly Bowie looked out the windows of his apartment in the same building where Elvis Presley had once stayed and said “This is it, isn’t it?”  He knew that he had made it.

In 1980 the hotel was sold again and was renamed the Warwick New York Hotel.   During the several renovations since 1937 Dean Cornwell’s murals in the Raleigh Room had been painted over.  In 2004 they were carefully uncovered and restored.   In their honor the restaurant was renamed Murals on 54.

After nearly a century of serving the wealthy and celebrated, one famous resident was not so well-received by  New Yorkers.  In September 2011 Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad checked in.   The outspoken and outrageous president had been refused rooms in several Manhattan hotels; but the Warwick announced “We are ready to cater to the needs of UN delegates and other representatives in support of this official event.”

The hotel that had been used to throngs of paparazzi crowding 6^th Avenue to get a glimpse of movie and rock stars now found itself besieged with protestors.   Throughout the stay of the Iranian entourage groups protested and a nearby rooftop was lined with a NYPD SWAT team and snipers.

A year later, in September, the Iranian president and the accompanying upheaval would be back to attend the 2012 United National General Assembly.

By now the latest major renovation was completed.   A downstairs bar was now named Randolph’s, with a nod to the hotel’s creator.  Here the carpet is woven with stylized rosebuds—the pet name Hearst used for Marion Davies and the name of the sled in the movie “Citizen Kane” based on Hearst’s life.

Throughout the hallways black-and-white photographs of the screen stars and other celebrities who stayed here hand on the walls.  And not a few of them are of William Randolph Hearst’s true love, Marion Davies.

CUNY's 1907 Shepard Hall - Back from the Edge

photo courtesy Elemental

On December 20, 1906 J. W. Moulton wrote to the editor of The New York Times concerning the new building being erected for the City College of New York. “The architect of the new buildings,” he said, “has made in my judgment, not only a very appropriate selection of style for the same, but has given to the city a monument of architectural beauty which will stand for centuries…”

Mr. Moulton’s lofty prediction came close to falling apart within only eight decades.

In the mid 1980’s the magnificent Shepard Hall of the City College of New York was in trouble. The building designed by George Browne Post was, quite literally, falling down. Large chunks of terra cotta routinely dropped from the façade and the 165' main tower was on the verge of collapse.

Although Post -- most remembered for designing New York landmarks such as the Stock Exchange and Cornelius Vanderbilt’s gargantuan 5th Avenue mansion -- held a degree in engineering, the limited understanding of certain structural principles at the time would threaten his monumental structure within a century of its completion.

In 1900 the school, at the time called the College of the City of New York, had seriously outgrown its downtown facility at Lexington Avenue and 23rd Street. Land for a new campus was purchased that year at West 138th Street between Amsterdam Avenue and St. Nicholas Terrace.

The New York Times, commenting on the Lexington Avenue building, said that the “ancient building has been many times condemned as unsanitary and unsafe in case of fire. It is overcrowded, and the efforts to relieve the congestion by establishing annexes in hired buildings in the neighborhood have not been attended with great success.”

Shepard Hall around 1915 -- NYPL Collection

Post submitted his plans for a new structure in October 1902 which incited the press to dub them “luxury for students.” The gymnasium, for instance, would include a swimming pool, four handball courts, wrestling, boxing and fencing rooms and on the main floor an 8000 square foot exercise room.

While The Times went into explicit detail regarding the various laboratories, recitation rooms and supply rooms, there was no mention of Post’s exterior architecture nor of the Great Hall, other than the hall would be “ornate in every detail” and would seat 2000 students, with 500 more in the galleries.

1903 view of Shepard Hall by H. M. Pettit from "King's Views of New York City"

In fact, the building would be both remarkable and elaborate. A monumental structure in the English Perpendicular Gothic style, it was built of the Manhattan schist removed from the foundation excavation and the tunnel construction of the subway system. Post used the Gothic cathedral plan as a model and lavished it with intricate white terra cotta ornamentation – including gargoyles, grotesques and florals – that stood out in stark contrast to the gray stone. The Architectural League, in 1906, exhibited examples of Post’s gargoyles in their 57th Street hall, noting that “some of these grotesques recall the Mayan figures on the columns and panels found by Stephens in deserted temples in Yucatan.”

A central tower was flanked by two wings curving off to the sides, while directly behind stood the splendid Great Hall, a cathedral-like space 185 feet long, 89 feet wide and soaring to 63 feet. Here a giant mural, "The Graduate," by Edwin Blashfield embellished the entire end wall. 

Mr. Moulton, in his letter to the editor, called it a “monument of architectural beauty…with walls of grey – purposely so selected without doubt – and its strong, massive tower, embrasured and beautiful in white terra cotta, together with the other buildings throughout, of exceptionally refined and well-studied detail, harmonize well, and most happily so.”

The facility was finally completed in 1907 and in May 1908 dedication ceremonies were held, attended by numerous dignitaries including Mark Twain, Mrs. Grover Cleveland and the mayor. The $6.5 million complex was said to be “second to none in the United States.”

The structures were enjoyed not only by the students but by the public at large – free recitals on the grand organ in the Great Hall were given every Sunday and Wednesday afternoon. Over the years Presidents Taft, Wilson and Franklin Roosevelt would speak here, as well as Eleanor Roosevelt and Albert Einstein.

However magnificent his design, George Post made engineering oversights. The terra cotta was treated structurally, like the schist, and there were no expansion joints to accommodate temperature shifts.  As early as the late 1920s the failure of the terra cotta was evident, causing the architects of the new Gothic Revival Compton-Goethals Hall to use cast stone rather than terra cotta to avoid a similar problem.   By 1986, when the Dormitory Authority of the State of New York called upon restoration architect Carl Stein to advise on the situation, the terra cotta had been breaking apart and large pieces falling loose for more than a decade.

photo courtesy Elemental

The condition of the façade was alarming at best. Only a third of the original terra cotta was in still in place. Grotesques and gargoyles were headless or missing; and voids were patched with bricks or stucco. Stein’s firm, The Stein Partnership (later to become Elemental), scrutinized thousands of elements. Of the more than 70,000 terra cotta pieces, more than half were either missing or unsalvageable.

In certain cases, in order to replicate the missing elements, vintage photographs were studied. Of the reproduced pieces, 3000 of the complex sculptures were unique. Rather than using replacement terra cotta, Stein opted instead for GRFC – a complex composite of concrete, fiber glass, additives and inorganic colarants.  In order to ensure visual authenticity, imperfections were included – tool marks, variations in color and other irregularities.

In addition, the energy saving properties of the material, it turned out, resulted in a savings equivalent to 7,500 barrels of oil.

While examining the main tower, the architects realized that due to water seepage the steel supports within the masonry had essentially corroded away to the point that they no longer existed. The tower was in danger of collapse.  It was essentially rebuilt, using a precast, post-tensioned concrete structure within the masonry cladding. 

Similar problems were found in the Great Hall where pieces of terra cotta tracery from the 40-foot stained glass windows were being found on the floor.  The clerestory area of the Hall was at risk of collapse and was added to the list Stein's growing list of projects.  Similarly, the upper 45 feet of the separate Bell Tower required a new structural armature both to carry the replacement ornamental cladding and to safely support the 7,000-pound bell.

photo courtesy Elemental

The massive $150 million restoration is now in its third decade and approximately 80% complete. According to Elemental principal Tom Abraham it is “by far the largest historic reconstruction of its kind in the world.”  The work, which was divided into ten phases, has a projected completion date of 2014.

Today Shepard Hall, what the AIA Guide to New York City calls a “towered, skewed, Gothic bulk encrusted with terra-cotta quoins, finials, voussoirs, and other details,” is returning to its 1907 appearance. It at last has a likelihood to meet J. W. Moulton’s 1906 prophecy as “a monument of architectural beauty which will stand for centuries…”