Originally the
Racket Court Club which was landmarked and then de-landmarked by Mayor
David Dinkins -- unique arhcitectural details that appear on no other
building in New York City.
by Leonard Jacobs
Guest Reporter
The Landmark Loophole: How Protected
Structures Can Still Face Demolition
(March '01)
The
New York City Landmarks Preservation Commission, created by Mayor
Robert F. Wagner in 1965 following the demolition of the old Pennsylvania
Station, has been widely acclaimed as a pioneer in preservation work.
Nearly every Broadway theater, for instance, has been granted landmark
status, whether for the exterior of the theatre, the interior, or
(frequently) both.
The work of the 11-member Commission mainly
involves the regulation and protection of over 20,000 buildings (some
interior, some exterior, some both), plus various "historic
districts" and "scenic landmarks" in each of the five
boroughs. Under a broad statute in which a tree may even be designated a
"landmark," how exactly do you define a landmark? According to
Barbaralee Diamonstein's book, "The Landmarks of New York," a
landmark is "a structure at least thirty years old . . . that has a
special character or special historical or aesthetic interest or value as
part of the development, heritage or cultural characteristics of the city,
state or nation."
In recent years, under the leadership of
Commissioner Jennifer J. Raab, a Giuliani appointee (who is leaving to
become the president of Hunter College), the Commission has also developed
a reputation as the benevolent referee between preservationists and
property owners and developers, their eyes all keenly attuned to the
economy.
To be sure, New York City's "landmark
law" is a largely rigorous and pro-preservationist one; every mayor
since Wagner, including Mayor Giuliani, has supported the Commission's
work. Whether reviewing applications to alter landmarked structures
(subject to public review) or reviewing the thousands of new requests for
designation, the work of the Commission has much good will from city
planners, businesspeople, and historians alike.
That a structure granted "landmark
status" is protected from wanton destruction is well-known. What is
not well-known, however -- and what the Commission would prefer to keep
little-known -- is the fact that some circumstances do legally allow a
so-called protected structure to be demolished.
All an owner need do is prove that the
landmark is an economic hardship for him.
Under such circumstances, most landmarks
are vulnerable. It was in 1982, the year Wall Street's bull market first
began fueling a remarkable period of development, that three historic
Broadway theaters -- the Helen Hayes, the Bijou, and the Morosco -- were
demolished to make room for the Marriott Marquis Hotel. A coalition of
artists and politicians quickly formed, seeking a mass "landmarking
of Broadway" that would protect the remaining theaters into
perpetuity. Broadway theater owners adamantly opposed the move at the
time, fearing they would be unable to continue profiting from these
structures, but the Commission did designate most of them as landmarks.
No one then could have foreseen the
dramatic economic revival of Times Square. The boom was helped along by
changes in the zoning resolution to allow theater owners to sell the
"development rights" above low-rise theaters. It is a long-shot,
but it is possible that one day, Broadway's three main theatre owners --
the Shubert Organization, the Nederlander Organization, and the Jujamcyn
Organization -- may plead economic hardship in order to raze Broadway
playhouses once again.
Obtaining permission to demolish a landmark
is a long and torturous process, but it can happen under several
circumstances.
Demolition is meant to be a last resort,
especially in cases of economic hardship. First there must be an official
finding of hardship; nobody is going to take the owner's word for it.
"The burden of proof is on the
owner," says Alex Herrera, director of technical services for the New
York Landmarks Conservancy, which provides grants, low-interest loans,
hands-on consulting services, workshops, and publications in order to help
owners of historic properties preserve what they have.
Then, if the Landmarks Preservation
Commission determines that an owner cannot earn a reasonable return on
their investment (currently six percent), the Commission can seek tax
breaks for the owner, or even obtain an "appropriate protective
interest," a euphemism for a new owner.
The Commission has a limited amount of time
to remedy the situation,. It is only after every available alternative has
been exhausted that the Commission may allow the property owner to
demolish the structure.
"It's a testimonial that New York is
in such good condition and that landmarks are really a very positive thing
that the provision has hardly been used," Herrera says.
But it has been used. The owners of the
Coogan Building, a former racquet club at West 26th Street and the Avenue
of the Americas, of a group of row houses on Central Park West, and of the
former Mt. Neboh Temple, all claimed economic hardship. The Commission
explored all alternatives, to no avail. All these landmarks have been
demolished.
The Mt. Neboh case is of particular
interest to preservationists and developers alike. "When you are
dealing with a religious institution," Herrera says, "there's a
much more fungible definition of what hardship is." Some
congregations, for instance, have determined that their house of worship
is "no longer suitable for its intended purpose," so instead of
a six percent rule determining economic hardship, the demolishing of a
religious property may be requested in order to accommodate the needs of
the congregation.
This does not mean that houses of worship
have free reign. In 1984, St. Bartholomew's Church, on Park Avenue and
East 50th Street, proposed to demolish its landmarked Community House and
replace it with an office tower, the first few floors of which would
provide the Church with much-needed space. The Landmarks Preservation
Commission denied the request. Subsequent appeals went all the way to the
Supreme Court, which ruled in favor of the Commission. The Court cited,
however, the "safety valve" embedded in the law - the right of
owners to demolish their landmarks under certain circumstances.
Of course, there are other ways to destroy
houses of worship and Broadway theaters besides demolishing them. The
Nederlander Organization closed the Mark Hellinger Theater, a landmark, by
selling to a religious organization, which made it into the Times Square
Church. The end of this theater - and the beginning of this church -
needed approval by the City Planning Commission. But since the sale did
not materially affect the physical structure, the Landmarks Preservation
Commission had nothing to say about this theatrical "demolition"
(or spiritual "development.") |