New York Architecture Images-Williamsburg Bridge

An XXXcellent Bridge
by Greg Ayres

New York has its mutated mountain range of buildings and landmarks, but more than just the visible structures, there are layers upon layers of phantom architecture in the form of past occupancies,aborted projects and popular \fantasies that provide completely different images to the New York that exists now.

Like Willie Wonka's infamous jaw-breaker, NYC is made up of layer upon layer of distinctly different flavors, stacked snugly one on top of the other. Rem Koolhaas says that New York is fated to a "Cyclic restatement of a single theme: creation and destruction irrevocably interlocked, endlessly reenacted. Barbarism giving way to refinement." So if it's worth sucking away at some of the layers, then we might as well eat our way to the very historical core, when Mother Nature's wild children roamed the lush hills, valleys and marshlands of New York. It was 1609 when the Mohican tribes lost the land that was originally their birthright to Henry Hudson and the parade of "civilized", white culture which closely followed. The old world (Europe and Eastern civilization) was becoming over crowded and people were looking to the west - towards the promised land. Millions of Christians were ready to cross their arresting geographical barrier into the unknown, new world of America. "North American barbarism insidiously giving way to European refinement." Sometime in the mid 1620's, New Amsterdam (the original name for New York) was colonized and the whole aboriginal race was plucked by the stem and uprooted. FAST FORWARD: ABOUT TWO HUNDRED YEARS It's the early 1800's and humans have congregated in unprecedented densities in Manhattan. Richard Woodhill begins to offer a ferry service departing from Corlear's Hook in Manhattan. The destination: his recently purchased 13 acre parcel of land - which he named Jonathan Williams. The ferry docks at the foot of what is now N.2nd Street in Brooklyn. He was hoping to develop a domestic refuge for the masses working in the city; alas, Woodhill's plans never came to fruition. Then, in 1818, David Dunham succeeded where Woodhill had not, becoming the father of Williamsburgh. In 1852, with the population just brimming at 31 thousand, Williamsburgh incorporated as a city, consolidated with Brooklyn, and dropped the "h" to become Williamsburg. The community, which was agriculturally based, rapidly became what might be called North America's first suburb. Skirting the world's greatest industrial carnival, it was inevitable that people would seek cover from life's laborious storm, in the waiting arms of Williamsburg. Sanctuary was just a boat ride across the East River.

Then in 1883, Brooklyn officially consummated its relationship to Manhattan, with the completion of the Brooklyn Bridge. The Culture of Congestion. New York architecture is a model for the exploitation of congestion. Between 1890 and 1940 a new culture selected manhattan as a laboratory - where the invention and testing of a metropolitan lifestyle and its attendant architecture could be pursued as a collective experiment in which the entire city became a factory of man made experience. Here, the splendor and misery of the metropolitan condition combine to formulate hyper density. The recipe alchemizes innovation with absurdity, and a strange brew bubbles over. Peoples' attitudes were on the cusp of daring adventure. It is the turn of the century - the gay nineties. There is an air of the fantastic surrounding everything and anything is possible. MAKING NUMBER TWO By 1900, the population of Williamsburg had escalated to 105 thousand. Under pressure from Senator Patrick McCarren, the powers that be in Albany, grudgingly appropriated funds for the building of the Williamsburg Bridge. The building committee commissioned Lefert L. Buck to design what was provisionally called, "No. 2". It was the beginning of a new age - that of the machine - brightly lit by the industrial dawning of steel. Buck put himself at the epicenter of this innovation by erecting two steel towers - looming 325 feet over the East River. The bridge was criticized from the moment the plan was unveiled, for its graceless form and bald utility. Built as an alternative to the overcrowded Brooklyn Bridge, it was the longest and heaviest suspension bridge in the world. Buck reinforced his behemoth creation with steel lattice work, called stiffening trusses. The structures which extend between the anchorages, (and give the bridge great strength) were not aesthetically favored by citizens at large. The design could have been a response to Alexendre Gustav Eiffel, who had become famous for his tower - built in 1889. It's even possible that the two prodigious architects could have met previously when they were both building railways in South America, circa late 1870's. But there was something Buck was doing that Eiffel had not; he was using steel. Favored or not, Buck was clearly at the forefront of this particular architectural revolution. Consistent with its cycle of destroying the old to make way for the new, the city went about auctioning off homes that stood in the unfortunate way of progress.

The bridge was certainly no respecter of private property. The process was ruthless; as dwellings, churches and theaters were rapidly destroyed to make room for the entranceways on either side of the River. In Manhattan and Brooklyn together, almost 20 thousand people were displaced. Homes and landmarks were not the only casualties of advancement - thirty-one men lost their lives while building the bridge. Construction, was in and of itself a perilous feat. Men seemingly hung in mid-air, perched on a "false bridge" (wooden scaffolding) or dangled from a precarious pulley system as they ran the incredibly heavy cables back and forth. One of the most treacherous jobs was digging the foundations which would hold the anchorages. The men who dug were called sand hogs, and once they got down to a depth of 70-90 feet they were paid an astounding $3.25 per hour. Lack of oxygen and exhaustion allowing only a few hours of work at a time for each man. Originally scheduled to take five years to build, construction was set back by a disastrous fire in 1902. A rivet stove near the very top of the false bridge was tipped over by a weary worker and the wooden framework went up like a match. Fire fighters arrived at the scene, only to watch helplessly as the flames blazed over three hundred feet above their heads. Miraculously, the damage was minimal and construction resumed at an even more furious pace. Finally, on a cold and hazy morning. a gray, yet luminous veil hung over the East River and blanketed the seven thousand, three hundred and twenty-five foot long passageway. It was December 19, 1903, the official opening day of the Williamsburg Bridge. It had taken seven years, 15 million dollars and thirty one lives to create what most people were calling a monstrous eyesore. Now as the sun rose and the fog lifted, the Williamsburg Bridge came into full visibility. The Mayor of New York City, Seth Low stood at the entrance-way to the Manhattan side of the bridge. J. Edward Swanstrom, president of the Borough of Brooklyn, stood at the opposite end. At 2:30 pm the two men walked onto the bridge and a few minutes later, just east of the exact center, shook hands. It was a gesture which represented the manifestation of a dream called The Greater New York Area - the greatest city in the world. The same year that the WB opened, Frederick Thompson opened Luna Park, an amusement pavilion to rival Coney Island.

He said, "It's marvelous what you can do in the way of arousing human emotions by the use you can make architecturally of simple lines." When the bridge opened officially to the public on December 20th, people had been waiting in the cold, winter darkness since midnight, to be among the first on the bridge. Potential record setters crowded at the entrance ways on both ends. The first man to make a round trip - Wally Owens, did so in a shiny, red, horseless carriage. Nearly mowing down several police officers, he made the trip in six minutes and fifty seconds. As the day wore on, many other records were set. The first couple to kiss; the first one-legged man to stump across. A bicyclist, rode backwards, with much difficulty. And at 6:20pm the first dog trotted across. The most noteworthy record was set by a nameless maverick - who brought a flask along - to be the first person to get drunk on the bridge. The Williamsburg Bridge was seen as a passageway to a new life by thousands of Jewish immigrants fleeing the slums of the Lower East Side. They and others flocked to the latest addition of Greater New York like over-worked Manhattan-ites escaping reality at the latest amusement park. In 1917 Williamsburg had the most densely populated blocks in the city and by 1920 the population was soaring at 260 thousand. The numbers continued to climb, as the thirties brought refugees evading the dark blanket of Nazism which was spreading at an alarming rate. Bessie Smith's A Tree Grows in Brooklyn (pub. 1943), tells the story of Francie, growing up in the neighborhood before WWI. Francie looks at the bridge from her roof and sees it as a means of escape from her dull domestic life. Later, when she finally crosses it, she is disillusioned by Manhattan. The Bridge still seems like a means for escape, but for escaping from Manhattan rather than to it. When enough people finally escape, then perhaps the cycle of destroying the old to make way for the new will begin again. Perhaps it¹s sad to think of another really cool layer of life getting covered up. But a neighborhood can't truly live if it's living in the past. So the culture of congestion will continue consuming history to make room for itself. The flavor keeps changing. And really isn't that what makes our city so great. So keep sucking on that gobstopper. Change is ultimately best when embraced lovingly. Why resist? The next thing you taste just might be the transformation of a lifetime.