Blueprints

Swanky Restaurants, Luxury Hotels, & Radical Theater: A Review of the Immigrant Communities of New York

Beginning in 2018, For the Record posted articles about the Municipal Archives ongoing project to preserve and inventory the Manhattan Building Plan collection. In the most recent post last year, Project Archivist Amy Stecher provided a Building Plan Update. This week, conservator Elsie Karlak contributes a narrative of her three months on the project:

Everybody gets confused sometimes. REC0074_0418_043: Front elevation, 293 Broome Street. Manhattan Building Plans Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

I was lucky enough to join colleagues as we continued to process plans for buildings located in the Lower East Side of Manhattan. The first home for many immigrants to the United States, this neighborhood experienced rapid growth during the late 19th and early 20th centuries as evidenced by the large volume of “new building” (NB) applications submitted to the Department of Buildings to construct multi-family dwellings, usually described as tenements. Likewise, requests for permits to add plumbing, fire escapes, and other alterations illustrated the ongoing work necessary to make tenements safer for their residents.

I also discovered plans for many other aspects of city life such as entertainment venues, community service organizations, schools, and places of worship. The plans chart the ebb and flow of the neighborhood, as immigrant communities moved out and others moved in, and as city officials created parks and public housing.

Here are some highlights of what I discovered along the way. 


Entertainment:

Block 416, Lot 20

This plan shows a swanky restaurant called Jack Silverman’s Old Romanian with space for 500 diners, dancing, and an orchestra. The Crystal Lounge wound around the curved bar.

REC0074_0416_020: Jack Silverman’s Old Romanian, 169-171-173 Allen Street. First floor plan. Manhattan Building Plans Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

169-171-173 Allen Street, ca. 1939. 1940s Tax Photograph collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Block 416, Lot 8

A short-lived radical theater, the plan depicts a classic black box theater, with seating around a central stage. The “People’s Drama” appears to be most famous for a run of a play, Nat Turner a highly fictionalized dramatization of the uprising led by the enslaved Nat Turner in 1831.

REC0074_0416_008: The People’s Drama, 210 Eldridge Street. Manhattan Building Plans Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

210 Eldridge Street, ca. 1939. 1940s Tax Photograph collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

 Block 427, Lot 27

This theater was one of many ventures by the Minsky brothers, famous for staging burlesque shows. Designed by theatre architect Thomas Lamb, it became the home for Yiddish productions and burlesque shows. The NB plans show the orchestra seating area and the curtain line that would hide backstage.

REC0074_0427_027_01: Minsky Theatre, Houston and Chrystie Streets. Manhattan Building Plans Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

111-117 East Houston Street, ca. 1939. 1940s Tax Photograph collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Block 420, Lot 39

A luxury hotel in the heart of the Lower East Side? I was confused when I came across plans for a twelve-story building, seemingly out of place amongst the walk-up tenements I had been cataloging. The Libby Hotel and Baths, built in 1924 for a staggering $1.3 million, was the passion project of Max Bernstein. Unfortunately, the venture was short-lived. The property was foreclosed and the hotel was demolished in 1934. The City took the property via eminent domain, along with seven blocks along Houston and Canal Streets to build the Sara D. Roosevelt Park.

REC0074_0420_039_01: The Libby Hotel and Baths, 12 Story Hotel and Baths to be erected at the NE corner of Delancey and Chrystie Street, Chrystie Street Elevation. Manhattan Building Plans Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

REC0074_0420_039_02: Plan of Sub-Cellar, The Libby Hotel and Baths. This plan show the maze of electricity that powered the Russian and Turkish baths. Manhattan Building Plans Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.


Community Spaces:

Blocks 418 Lot 1

Sara D. Roosevelt Park is named after President Franklin D. Roosevelt’s mother, the first Presidential mother to be alive for her son’s inauguration since George Washington took office in 1789. One of the first projects completed by Robert Moses after his appointment as Parks Commissioner by Mayor Fiorello LaGuardia in 1934, the plans include wading pools, playgrounds, “comfort stations” (bathrooms), and landscaping. My favorite plans show a diagrammatic view of the park benches, and the textures used for different stones in the paving and landscaping.

REC0074_0418_001_01: Chrystie - Forsythe Park Plots [Sara D. Roosevelt Park], Detail of Foot Bath, Plot Plan of Building C, Park Benches, Curb Enclosures for Vines. Manhattan Building Plans Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

REC0074_0418_001_02: Chrystie - Forsythe Park Plots [Sara D. Roosevelt Park], Canal to Houston Street, construction plan of plot between Grand and Broome Streets, Block 5, building C. Manhattan Building Plans Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

REC0074_0418_001_03: Chrystie Forsythe Park Plots [Sara D. Roosevelt Park], Construction details of Foot Bath, Ramp Steps & Scum Gutter of Wading Pools. Manhattan Building Plans Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Block 415, Lot 18

The University Settlement House was the first settlement house in the U.S. Created by reformers during the Progressive Era of the early 1900s, settlement houses served poor immigrant communities. The plans show the organization’s library, lecture hall, and nursery.

REC0074_0415_018_01: University Settlement House, Plan of 2nd Floor. Manhattan Building Plans Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

REC0074_0415_018_02: University Settlement House, 3rd Floor Plan. Manhattan Building Plans Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Block 415, Lot 20

Designed by McKim, Mead and White, the Rivington Street branch of the New York Public Library branch was built in 1904 with funding from philanthropist Andrew Carnegie. The plans show both a custodian apartment and roof garden on the top floor which must have been a nice place to get fresh air and relax while reading. Together with the University Settlement House next door, this block became a hub for community services. The building survived only a few decades before becoming home to a church. It was later converted to condos. 

REC0074_0415_020_03: Front Elevation, Rivington Street Branch of New York Public Library. Manhattan Building Plans Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

REC0074_0415_020_06: First Floor Plan, Rivington Street Branch of New York Public Library. Manhattan Building Plans Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

REC0074_0415_020_02: Janitors Floor Plan, Alternate Scheme with Roof Garden, Rivington Street Branch of New York Public Library. Manhattan Building Plans Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

REC0074_0415_020_01: Alternate Scheme Showing Roof Garden, Rivington Street Branch of New York Public Library. Manhattan Building Plans Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

New York Public Library, 61 Rivington Street, ca. 1939. 1940s Tax Photograph collection, NYC Municipal Archives.


Synagogues:

Block 414, Lot 27

One of many synagogues of the Lower East Side, Kehila Kedosha Janinae is unique as the only Romaniote rite synagogue in the Western Hemisphere. Romaniote refers to a specific tradition of Greek-speaking Judaism. The plans show front facade details, including a Star of David in stained glass, as well as the main floor space, with pews for men, and a mezzanine level for women. The building is a New York City Landmark and on the National Register of Historic Places.

REC0074_0414_027_01: Front elevation of 280 Broome Street (Kehila Kedosha Janinae). Manhattan Building Plans Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

REC0074_0414_027_02: Plan of 1st Floor of 280 Broome Street (Kehila Kedosha Janinae). Manhattan Building Plans Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

REC0074_0414_027_03: Plan of mezzanine balcony, 280 Broome Street (Kehila Kedosha Janinae). Manhattan Building Plans Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

280 Broome Street, ca. 1939. 1940s Tax Photograph collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Block 419, Lot 49

Designed by J. Cleaveland Cady this synagogue is located at the corner of Delancey and Forsyth Streets. Cady also designed the American Museum of Natural History. The plans, dated 1889, show alterations to convert the building into a synagogue for a group of Jewish immigrants from the same town in Lithuania. The plans show the beautiful building facade, including large stained-glass windows and a dome, and the intricate Torah ark at the front of the congregation.

REC0074_0419_049_01: Front Elevation, 126 and 128 Forsyth Street. Manhattan Building Plans Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

REC0074_0419_049_02: Cross section of Torah ark, 126 and 128 Forsyth Street. Manhattan Building Plans Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

REC0074_0419_049_03: Front Elevation on Delancey Street at Forsyth Street. Manhattan Building Plans Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

126 and 128 Forsyth Street, ca. 1939. 1940s Tax Photograph collection, NYC Municipal Archives.


Housing:

Block 426, Lot 6

The Bowery was known for its “flophouses,” or places where you could rent a small cubicle by the night. In just one block, the Sunshine Hotel, Bowery Mission, and Salvation Army Hotel all provided this kind of housing. Plans for the Salvation Army Hotel show small rooms packed together to maximize the number of available beds (64-67 per floor, with nine floors of rooms). This type of housing later became known as Single Room Occupancy.

REC0074_0426_006_02: Plan of 2nd to 7th Floors. Alteration to Premises 2231/2 to 225 Bowery for The Salvation Army, 120 West 14th Street. Manhattan Building Plans Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

REC0074_0426_006_03: Plan of Cellar and 1st Floor. Alteration to Premises 2231/2 to 225 Bowery for The Salvation Army, 120 West 14th Street. Manhattan Building Plans Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

225 Bowery, Salvation Army, ca. 1939. 1940s Tax Photograph collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Block 430, Lot 10

The First Houses take their name from the fact that they were the first public housing development built in New York (and the United States) by Mayor LaGuardia’s newly created New York City Housing Authority. The property was assembled through a combination of eminent domain and donations by prominent New Yorkers. To keep costs low, builders reused materials from the demolished tenements. While plain in appearance, the First Houses reflect the perceived benefits of open air and large courtyards. The plans show the squat rectangular buildings at elevation, a common floor plan showing four apartments, and the city run health center in one of the first-floor storefronts. Each apartment was spacious and full of amenities especially compared to the cramped tenements they replaced. Every room had a window, and each apartment had separate bathrooms and kitchens, fireproofing, electricity, and radio connectivity. More than 3,000 families applied for just 120 apartments, underscoring the enormous demand for public housing. 

REC0074_0430_010_01: First Houses, East Elevation, Revisions. Manhattan Building Plans Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

REC0074_0430_010_04: First Houses, Storefront for Department of Health. Manhattan Building Plans Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

REC0074_0430_010_05: First Houses, Typical Floor Plan. Manhattan Building Plans Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

 Blocks 430, 431, and 432, Lot 1

The Village View Houses, originally called the FDR Houses, had their groundbreaking ceremony in 1964, on the 25th anniversary of the First Houses, showing how far public housing had come, all while sharing the same block of New York. Built as co-op apartments under the State-sponsored Mitchell-Lama program there are seven buildings with 1,236 units. Plans include a font used on signs throughout the buildings, a common layout for a floor, with ten apartments, and a site plan showing the three blocks the buildings were spread across.

REC0074_0430,431,432_001_03: Franklin D. Roosevelt Houses, Layout for Lettering and Field Office. Manhattan Building Plans Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

REC0074_0430,431,432_001_05: Franklin D. Roosevelt Houses, General Site Plan. Manhattan Building Plans Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

REC0074_0430,431,432_001_02: Franklin D. Roosevelt Houses, Typical Floor Plan. Manhattan Building Plans Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

REC0074_0430,431,432_001_04: Franklin D. Roosevelt Houses, Letters & Numerals for Building Entrances. Manhattan Building Plans Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Building Histories, The Bellevue Psychopathic Hospital and the Rivington Street Bath

In last week’s blog, Amy Stecher adapted her “Lunch and Learn” presentation about the Manhattan Building Plan collection project. This week, co-presenter Alexandra Hilton highlights two architecturally significant buildings documented in the collection – the Bellevue Psychopathic Hospital and the Rivington Street Bath. Future blogs will feature the plans of other unique buildings that have been identified in the processing project.


Bellevue Psychopathic Hospital

Psychopathic Building, Bellevue and Allied Hospitals, architects’ rendering, 1927. Department of Public Charities and Hospitals Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

The Bellevue Psychopathic Hospital, as it was called at the time, was built in 1931 by Charles B. Meyers in the Italian Renaissance style. The building is still standing alongside the East River on First Avenue between 29th and 30th Streets, occupying an entire city block. When constructed, it joined the growing Bellevue hospital complex, and was intended to match the existing buildings, which were designed by architects McKim, Mead & White – same color brick, embellished with granite base course, limestone and terra cotta trimmings. By then, McKim, Mead & White was barely active; Meyers had just designed the Tammany Hall building and was a favorite of then-Mayor Jimmy Walker.

Manhattan Block 958. Bromley Atlas, 1955. New York Public Library.

Prior to its construction, Bellevue’s mental-health facilities were part of the main hospital and included an 1879 “pavilion for the insane,” and an alcoholic ward was added in 1892. Dr. Menas Gregory, a well-known psychiatrist who spent his career working in Bellevue’s psychiatric division, is credited with the idea for a psychiatric building after a trip to inspect similar institutions in Europe – a “Temple of Mental Health,” as he called it. Wanting to create a very clean and stately environment for the new hospital was right on brand for Dr. Gregory. In his position, he had already changed the terminology – preferring “psychopathic” to the word “insane,” thinking this would help make the patients seem curable. He had also removed the iron bars from the old pavilion’s windows and had lessened the use of narcotics and physical restraints on the patients. Dr. Gregory was seen as a good guy in the field, at a time when most medical professionals were largely ignorant about mental illness.

Psychopathic Hospital, Department of Hospitals, Charles B. Meyers, elevation, 1929, blueprint. Manhattan Building Plan Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Before the hospital was built, The New York Times said it would be “one of the finest hospitals in the world for the treatment of mental disorders” and “thoroughly modern” at a cost of $3,000,000. (Unsurprisingly, by the time it was finished, the cost would be $4,300,000 ($66,000,000 today). It was designed as a single building with three separate units: 1) 10-stories to house administrative services, doctors’ offices, labs and a library; 2) 8-stories, for mild cases; 3) 8-stories, for more advanced cases. There were facilities for recreation and occupational therapy; physio-, electro- and hydro-therapy; an out-patient clinic; teaching facilities for medical students, and a special research clinic for the study and treatment of delinquency, crime and behavior problems, in collaboration with the Department of Correction, Criminal Courts and Probation Bureau.

Bellevue Hospital complex with new psychopathic building at right, October 31, 1934. Borough President Manhattan Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Rooms were designed to house either one, two or three patients at a time. In a Mental Hygiene Bulletin, it was written that “special consideration has been given in the plans to incorporate within the building the appearance and aspect of home or normal living conditions with simple decorations and color tones believed to have the most soothing effect upon the patient.” One hundred of the six hundred beds were dedicated for the study and treatment of children, under the supervision of the Department of Education. 

Completing the building was nothing short of dramatic and filled with accusations of corruption and mismanagement. Its lavish exterior juxtaposed against the great depression couldn’t have been more tone deaf to the city’s residents. When ground was broken on June 18, 1930, it was thought the building would be completed at the end of 1931. Almost a year later, in February 1931, the cornerstone was just being laid. Delays were plentiful. It reportedly took a year to choose the architect and another year to draw the plans, and then, according to the Acting Commissioner of Hospitals, “after the contractor had collected all the funds he could get, he left for Europe.” 

Psychopathic Hospital, Department of Hospitals, Charles B. Meyers, first floor plan, 1929, blueprint. Manhattan Building Plan Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Bellevue Psychopathic Hospital, Manhattan Block 958, Lot 1, 1940. Tax Photograph Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

The hospital partially opened in May 1933 with the 600-bed facility only ready for 375 patients. A formal dedication occurred later that year in November, where tribute was paid to Dr. Gregory for his vision. Dr. Gregory resigned from his post in 1934, amid an investigation of his division by the Commissioner of Hospitals, Dr. S. S. Goldwater. This formed a spectacular tit-for-tat-type relationship between Dr. Gregory and Dr. Goldwater, which The New York Times covered extensively. Dr. Gregory died in 1941.

Over the years, the building went from temple of health to a scary place you didn’t want to go, and was the subject of many films, novels and exposes. The hospital saw many celebrity patients. Norman Mailer was sent there after stabbing his wife in a drunken rage. William Burroughs after he chopped off his own finger to impress someone. Eugene O’Neill had several stays in the alcoholic ward. Sylvia Plath came after a nervous breakdown. And infamous criminals like George Metesky the “Mad Bomber,” and John Lennon’s assassin, Mark David Chapman, were briefly committed to the hospital. 

In 1984, the city began transitioning the building into a homeless shelter and intake center, but much of it was left empty. Around 2008, a proposal to turn the building into a hotel surfaced. To developers, the building was naturally suited to such a use, given the H-shaped layout with long hallways and small rooms.


Rivington Baths

The Rivington Street Bath House at 326 Rivington Street, later renamed the Baruch Bath House, was the first in the city to be built with public funds. The ground-breaking for the bathhouse took place in December 1897; it opened on March 23, 1901. 

Public Bath Building, Rivington Street, Cady, Berg & See, South Elevation, 1897, ink on linen. Manhattan Building Plan Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Architects Cady, Berg & See designed the large, neoclassical building. They had become the go-to designers for municipal bath houses after the success of the People’s Bath, a public bath that had been privately funded by the New York Association for Improving the Condition of the Poor (the AICP). The People’s Bath opened in 1891 at 9 Centre Market Place, near Broome Street, on the block where the old Police Headquarters building still stands. The architects and Dr. Simon Baruch, regarded as the “father of the public bath movement in the United States,” were keen on German design and their widespread use of showers – which, at the time, were referred to as rain baths or ring showers because of the circular shower head, designed to keep hair dry. The Germans were using showers for mass bathing situations, such as in military barracks. Showers were cheaper to build, easier to keep clean, used less water and could get people in and out faster, and became the staple of bathhouses.

Dr. Simon Baruch, who the Rivington Street Bathhouse was eventually named after, emigrated from Germany to South Carolina when he was a teenager. He studied medicine and joined the Civil War as a surgeon on the confederate side. Captured at the Battle of Gettysburg, he was held as a prisoner of war for the duration of the conflict. He made his way to New York City in 1881, served as a physician on the Lower East Side, and achieved prominence in the New York medical field.

Manhattan Block 324, 1891, Bromley Atlas, New York Public Library

Dr. Baruch began advocating for public bathhouses in 1889. He was big on hydrotherapy, at the time a new concept in the United States, and this guided many of his endeavors. Municipal officials weren’t as sold on this concept that poor sanitation would equal poor physical health, but Baruch was tireless in promoting the utility of water and importance of a public bath system. For some reason, he was in the minority – even though in 1894, only 306 out of 255,000 tenements in New York City had bathtubs. “The people won’t bathe,” said then-Mayor Hugh Grant. But by 1895, Baruch finally convinced the State Legislature to pass a law that mandated cities with a population greater than 50,000 to establish and maintain free bath facilities.

Logistics around the new bath law and facilitation of public bathhouses caused some lag. One of the hiccups concerned their locations. Tompkins Square Park on the Lower East Side, then a predominantly German and Irish neighborhood, had been chosen as the location for the first bath. The residents couldn’t have been less thrilled by this prospect.  They did not want to be living in the community thought to be so poor that they needed a public bath. Essentially, they said it should go to the newer Jewish and Italian immigrant communities, located further south. And they did not want the bathhouse to take away from their already too-little park space. Their opposition was heard; Tompkins Square was no longer a contender. There was also a question of whether public baths even had to be located in parks; the mayor and his committee on public baths thought it did; Baruch said they did not. Somehow, they came over to Baruch’s side and the spot on Rivington Street, already owned by the city, was chosen.

Public Bath Building, Rivington Street, Cady, Berg & See, First floor plan; showers and waiting area for men and women, 1897, ink on linen. Manhattan Building Plan Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Public Bath Building, Rivington Street, Cady, Berg & See, Longitudinal section, baths on upper floors, 1897, ink on linen.  Manhattan Building Plan Collection, NYC Municipal Archives. 

The style of the Rivington Street Bathhouse influenced the style of subsequently built baths in the city. William Paul Gerhard, author of Modern Baths and Bath Houses (1908), said that the exterior of a people’s bath – or public bath – should be easily recognizable so it would be easily found. But he also warned that it shouldn’t be so lavish that the poor wouldn’t want to come. The Rivington Street bath design wasn’t exactly modest and met criticism for its extravagance and cost—eventually totaling more than $95,000 ($2,995,000 in today’s dollars). Of course, after its immediate success, the AICP recommended that another 16 bathhouses be built to the same specifications, saying it was actually more economical to build (cost less per shower compartment) and to maintain for the long haul. They aimed for the ancient Roman public bath-look with classical pilasters, columns, arches and cornices, constructed with hefty materials like brick, terra cotta, stone marble and copper, and with ornamental iron work. Whatever its appearance, the bathing experience was pretty much the same throughout the city’s bathhouses. 

Public Bath Building, Rivington Street, Cady, Berg & See, Plumbing plan, 1897, ink on linen. Manhattan Building Plan Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Public Bath Building, Rivington Street, Cady, Berg & See, Longitudinal section, 1897, ink on linen. Manhattan Building Plan Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

At Rivington Street, the three-and-a-half story building was divided into two spaces for a dedicated men’s and women’s area, each with a waiting room. The men’s area was about 2/3 of the building with 45 rain baths, or, showers; the women had 22. A handful of bathtubs were on the upper floors. Each bath cubicle was divided into two parts – a dressing area and a shower, separated by a curtain. When a patron entered the bathhouse, they were given a number, and then they would wait for their number to be called for the next available cubicle. They usually had 20 minutes to undress, bathe and redress – Rivington had the capacity to accommodate 3,000 bathers per day on this timetable. Attendants controlled the water temperature, which ranged between 73 to 105 degrees F, and the duration of the shower – I’m sure it will come to no surprise to learn that the attendants soon began running a scheme, where patrons could sneak them five cents for a limitless bath time. Eventually they got caught and were fired. Pools were later added to the complex in 1917.

Rivington Street Bath, Manhattan Block 324, Lot 36, 1940 Tax Photograph Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

Rivington Street Bath, Manhattan Block 324, Lot 36, 1940 Tax Photograph Collection, NYC Municipal Archives.

In 1939, Bernard Baruch, Dr. Baruch’s son, donated the land around the bathhouse to the city, and jurisdiction of the building went to the Parks Department. They renovated the bathhouse as a recreation center and added Baruch Playground. In the 1950s, the New York City Housing Authority built Baruch Houses, Manhattan’s largest public housing complex adjacent to the bathhouse. By 1975, the city’s fiscal crisis forced the facility to close, and has pretty much sat unused

The Manhattan Building Plans Project, 1977-2018

On Monday, July 2, 2018, the Municipal Archives began working on a project first envisioned more than 40 years ago—inventorying and re-housing architectural plans for buildings in lower Manhattan. Digitizing selected plans, not envisioned 40 years ago, will be part of the new project. Saved from near destruction in the 1970s, and containing materials spanning more than one hundred years, City archivists are looking forward to discovering long-hidden treasures and preserving this significant historical and cultural collection.