How long does it take a new building to settle into a city? Frank Gehry’s condominium tower at 8 Spruce Street, which is called, ridiculously, New York by Gehry, has been open for about a year and I believe it’s done just that. I was suspicious at first. It’s a starchitect-designed property with units that rent from 6K to 18K. It’s just a few blocks east of the World Trade Center site, where the first tower there is just now, sluggishly, taking shape. And at a time when austerity is the buzzword, in architecture and everything else, it’s dressed in gleaming, flame-shaped stainless steel panels.
But the tower looks smashing when seen from City Hall, where it’s a fine, assertive presence among low-lying blocks. And when seen from Brooklyn Heights it brightens the skyline, catching and throwing daylight surprisingly. It’s taller and slimmer than the glassy Wall Street towers behind it but doesn’t draw too much attention to itself. I’ve heard the building badmouthed by architects, architecture critics, and laymen, who all observe that only two of its sides are covered in the sculpted panels, and that it’s all a bit too much. In its unapologetic glamor and fine metal ornament, the tower reminds me of the Empire State Building. Gehry was able to adapt his very personal language of twisted, spinning shards into a system of mass construction, which is no mean feat, and to shape a building with a unique image. 88 Spruce is a much needed super-tall building downtown. Since 9/11 I’ve missed the Twin Towers badly; they were a continual, peripheral presence, marking the way downtown. Each time I pass a ten-for-a-dollar postcard rack I look for updated shots of the skyline. It’s not long before Gehry’s tower finds their way into them, and into the mythology of the city.