The Original Penn Station: the giant that had to fall to start a movement.
Undoubtedly one of the greatest loses and biggest mistakes in the historic preservation realm, as well as the architectural world, were the demolition of the epic Pennsylvania Train Station in Ney York City. The project broke ground on May 1, 1904 and the doors opened to the public on November 24, 1910 and cost approximately 144 million dollars- roughly the equivalent of 2.5 billion dollars today. The train station was the largest monument built in the name of transportation and considered to be the largest indoor space in New York and one of the largest public spaces in the world, being compared to in scale to Saint Peter’s nave in Rome, the building was truly a temple of transportation.
Penn Station was designed in the Beaux-Arts style which was characterized by its flat roof, arched windows and doors, as well as its classic architectural details, designed to resemble the Brandenburg Gates in Berlin as well as the Baths of Caracalla in Rome. Coming in from the street, whether it be from the central entry vestibule or one of the two twin carriage ways that flanked the building, passengers passed through a dignified façade of 84 Doric columns, which performed dual functions by circulating the flow of people and goods. Through the entry way, commuters were lead down a long light-drenched barrel arched arcade, lined with small shops as well as a formal dining room and a less-formal lunch room, which lead towards the breath-taking large waiting room. Down a grand set of marble stairs and eventually an escalator, the groin vaulted travertine ceiling of the waiting room soared an inconceivable 15 stories in the air and featured massive Corinthian columns. This area housed the ticket booths as well as the information desk and was completely unobstructed by chairs or benches.
Beyond the waiting area was the concourse, and train platforms, enclosed in by a starkly beautiful glass and steel arched ceilings. The extravagantly curved and intertwining arched greenhouse roof brought in natural light to the concourse and the platform sitting 45 feet below the ground and hinted at the state-of-the-art machinery that lay below foot. Built almost entirely of 500,000 cubic feet of pink granite, the glass and steel concourse was a welcome and lightened break from the heavy feeling of the rest of the space.
Other than the sheer size, the station was also recognizable by its use of sculptures in the design and architecture of the building. Along with the hundreds of epic Doric and Corinthian columns, caryatids lined the walls. These were huge stone angel female figures whose bodies took the place of pillars with the entablature resting on their heads. Also, 22 stone eagles, representing immortality and weight 5,700 pounds apiece, crowned the coves throughout the building, watching over passengers as they entered the station or waited for their trains. The Pennsylvania Train Station was truly a marvel to innovation as well as a tribute to transportation.
Penn Station saw, undoubtedly, its heaviest usage during eras of war. In the 1910’s during World War I and yet again the station saw an increase in traffic during World War II in the 1940’s. However, in the 1950’s, not only Penn Station, but most of the train stations in the country were seeing a massive decline in use due to the introduction of the jet age and the Interstate Highway System; people just weren’t traveling by train anymore. Mistreatment during the Great Depression as well as war eras had led the building to decline physically, as well as being surpassed by the times. Modernism has gained popularity in the country and the massive romantic style building was looking more and more out of place in the ever evolving New York City. Eventually designers tried to help Penn Station evolve with a new futuristic ticket booth, as well as modern vendors and neon signs, but inside of this classic granite castle, these modern advances just looked comically out of place. Soon, a layer of soot had diminished the gleam of the polished marble floors and railroad officials knew that something had to be done.
In 1960 it was announced that a new Madison Square Garden, a name synonymous with arenas in New York City since the 1870’s, was to be built on top the tracks of Penn Station. In exchange for the development of the new sports and entertainment arena, Penn Station was promised a new train station, one that was smaller, air conditioned, and below ground, as well as a 25% stake in Madison Square Garden’s profits. This also meant that the monumental current train station had to be demolished. Originally, the colonnade of Doric columns lining the exterior façade of the building and the long arcade were to be preserved and somehow integrated into the design of Madison Square Garden until all of the aboveground components were ordered to be demolished.
Many felt as though the razing of Penn Station was justified and was progressive in the era of railroad decline. Along with this, the fad of Modernism was sweeping the country, characterized by the simplification of form and the subtraction of the ornamental, everything that Penn station was not. However, most people were outraged. The threat of demolition brought about a firestorm of protests from architects, artists, writers, as well as ordinary citizens. The thought of bulldozing this (massive monument) seemed so absurd to most that the New York Times published an editorial that stated:
Until the first blow fell, no one was convinced that Pennsylvania Station really would be demolished, or that New York would permit this monumental act of vandalism against one of the largest and finest landmarks of its age of romantic elegance.
The demolition left a deep and lasting wound as well as a resounding feeling of guilt that rippled throughout the city. People felt as though something irreplaceable had been lost and because of this, an erosion in the belief of Modernism and Urban Renewal came about.
Even before the crews began demolishing the old Penn Station, preservationists, museums, and private collectors scrambled to get their hands on whatever they could to preserve the station's memory. The sculpted clock surround that sat directly above the entry vestibule now sits as part of the Eagle Scout Memorial Fountain in Kansas City. A caryatid stands in the sculpture garden at the Brooklyn Museum. 14 of the 22 stone eagle statues were rescued and have been distributed all around the east coast. Two sit at the entrance of Madison Square Garden, three are in long island (two at the U.S. Merchant Marine Academy and one at the long Island Railroad Station), four sit in Philadelphia, and one sits in the National Zoo in Washington D.C. Although Penn Station has been demolished, it can never be forgotten.
If anything positive came out of the destruction of the Pennsylvania Train Station, it would be the signing of the New York Landmarks Preservation Law into commission in 1965. This law allows a committee to declare a building or site as a historic landmark, and once it has been declared as such, it can forever be protected from demolition and has influenced several states to sign similar laws into effect. Since the signing of this law, over a million structures have been saved, thousand in New York alone, so there is a serious question posed by this: had Pennsylvania Station not been razed, would the city and the country seen the error in their ways and tried harder to protect historic buildings. More importantly, did we need to lose Penn Station to save the rest?
