buildings-and-structures-in-new-york-city

"No matter the night or the performer, there’s a sense of occasion at Café Carlyle, the feeling that this is a big night out at the last great in New York. The room has barely changed since it opened in 1955, except that back then, there were often two or even three shows instead of one a night. The martinis are still considered the best in the city, and the soft light from the little table lamps, the most flattering. The lampshades were painted by the Hungarian-born French artist , as were the fanciful and droll murals on the walls, storybook-style illustrations of children in s painting and playing music, as well as dancing bears and ballerinas."

"With its storybook wall murals, nightly jazz trio, and painfully early last call, is an unlikely destination for Manhattan scenesters. But during the past week, the tiny, dowdy bar at the Upper East Side’s Carlyle Hotel has played hurricane host to droves of young downtown fashion types like, on Thursday, Man Repeller’s and designer . ... The hotel confirmed that it has seen “extra activity” due to ."

"At the start of “Always at the Carlyle,” a glossy documentary about the Carlyle Hotel, employees say that they will not reveal anything about this celebrated Upper East Side landmark that has housed superstars, royalty and presidents. … Discretion may be a virtue in the upscale hospitality business, but not in documentary film. If you are going to make a movie that hints at scandal and celebrity gossip and behind-the-scenes glamour, then it’s not too much to ask that some secrets be revealed and a glass or two of juice poured. Instead, the movie’s director, , collects an impressive amount of talent, including actors (, ), supermodels () and journalists (), who wax poetic about the hotel’s style, Old World ambience and white glove treatment favored by the rich and famous. Every once in a while, someone hints at a great story — like the time , and shared an elevator — but it’s all setup, no punch line."

"The Carlyle was the signature project of Moses Ginsberg, who was born in Poland in 1885 and came to the United States via London in 1896. Ginsberg started out in banking, but by the 1910's he also had shipping interests. One of his steamers was sunk by a German submarine in 1917. In the mid-1920's he was putting up small apartment buildings in . By 1929 he was in full swing, buying sites on the West and East Sides of Manhattan for large-scale apartment development. ... He had bought the east blockfront of Madison Avenue from 76th to 77th Streets, and in early 1929 he filed plans to build a hotel and an apartment tower. ... The earliest hotel tenants included , an investment banker and art collector who was later president of the . His collection of French 19th- and 20th-century paintings was one of the finest of the mid-20th century. Another tenant was Truman H. Talley, a director for who sometimes appeared in and narrated the newsreels."

"The 70-year-old hotel at 35 East has long been a palace of secrets, well before it became the New York White House for President , who made it a fulcrum of world, and possibly other, affairs. It is the grand residence where , discreetly stayed whenever she visited New York, and it is the establishment where last ate breakfast before his plane crashed. … In the annals of urbanity, the opulent Carlyle is perhaps best known to non-10021ers for the presence of , the high-end saloon singer who has served up and at the Cafe Carlyle since 1968."

"Stanley Bard, a of innkeepers who nurtured talented writers and artists and tolerated assorted deadbeats as the manager and part-owner of the Chelsea Hotel in Manhattan for more than 40 years, died on Tuesday in Boca Raton, Fla. He was 82. ... While Mr. Bard presided over it, the Chelsea was also home to , the film star; the artists , (Christo wrapped Jeanne-Claude, his wife, there); the singer-songwriters and (who wrote a song about it, “Chelsea Hotel #2”); and the punk rock musician (who caricatured Mr. Bard in a horror novel he wrote). The Chelsea was where worked on “,” where wrote “,” where wrote “” and where wrote “.” Mr. Bard lent long-term tenants money and tolerated their overdue bills; he embraced their eccentricities and encouraged their cultural ambitions."

"Built in 1883 as one of the first cooperative buildings in New York City and briefly among its tallest buildings, the Chelsea was under the ownership of David Bard, Joseph Gross, and Julius Krauss from 1942 and was managed by Bard. Combining both residences and hotel rooms,it was already a storied have for artists and writers by the time David Bard left the day-to-day management to his son Stanley in the early 1960s."

"It is true that lived at the Chelsea, and . did in fact "service" there on an unmade bed. It's true that the acting legend , in her penthouse apartment at the Chelsea, slept nights in her custom-made coffin beneath her custom-made pyramid. On the tenth floor, did argue with over the screenplay for '. The list of Chelsea luminaries goes on and on. Writers , , , , , and others just as famous, wrote books there."

"For the past decade, the residence hotel on West 23rd Street, a New York character unto itself, has been suspended in a dreary state of endless construction, with a rotating cast of developers struggling to spin this oddity into an upscale boutique hotel. Even as the pandemic decimates the city’s economy, closing scores of hotels, restaurants and stores, and leaving tens of thousands of New Yorkers unable to pay their rent, the 12-story Chelsea continues to exist in a world unto itself, one that seems to host a seemingly endless cage match where the building’s roughly 50 remaining tenants spar with one another or with the landlord who, in turn, battles with the city. ... The latest plot twist came in January, when the city dropped a lengthy investigation of tenant harassment that had halted construction for two and a half years. With that obstacle removed, the Chelsea’s owners, , Richard Born and Sean MacPherson, known for their trendy s like the Ludlow, the and the , resumed work. They plan to open the Chelsea to guests by the end of the year."

"... At the hotel on Twenty-third Street, famously rundown and louche—the Last Bohemia for the Final Beatniks, our own Chateau Marmont, where drank and wrote “” and wore (or didn’t; people argue) his famous blue raincoat, and killed (or didn’t; they argue that, too) —the renovators and gentrifiers have arrived. ... But, unusually, in this case the new owners have a sense of what they own, and of its past, and so the Chelsea Hotel’s passage is being celebrated rather than hushed up: this week, a group of young players is reviving the play “,” by and , which tells the story of their love affair in the hotel, with the play put on by a group called Young Artists at The Chelsea right there in the building itself. Even more unusually, the senior citizens of the place are mostly safe. Owing to some decent social activism within the hotel’s community, the long-time residents have been allowed to stay on past the reopening—paying the rents they paid, and remaining the institutional memory of an eccentric but essential institution."

"The interior designer Travis Grimm had two legacies he wanted to evoke in his Manhattan apartment: The folklore of his family, and the glamour of the storied Carlyle hotel. … He also leaned heavily on three items in his possession: a faded, burgundy first edition of ', that his husband found at auction, and a silver pocket watch and slim , both of which had belonged to the brothers and were passed down from Mr. Grimm’s father. In addition to the three bedrooms, the apartment has four and a half baths, a gym, office and library. … The unit is, in many ways, also an art gallery: A piece by hangs in the foyer. In the living room, there is a piece by and another by . In the gallery, greeting guests as they enter, is a massive dark-blue work by that Mr. Grimm said reminds him of his many years in Los Angeles."

"Originally built in 1907 and added to in 1921, the Plaza Hotel has long been one of the most famous hotels in the city. The 20-floor building rises 280 high. With its addition, it has 1,098 guest rooms and 12 elevators. ... the Plaza is located on between Fifty-eighth and s at the , adjacent to the southeast corner of . It was designed by , who also created the famous on where lived. The Plaza Hotel has been seen in numerous movies and is the setting of the famous Eloise series of children's books. It was recently renovated and turned into a combination hotel/residential space."

"The Waldorf Astoria hotel in Manhattan is known for its grand public spaces, like its two-tiered ballroom and vast lobby. But upstairs, in a windowless corner of the hotel's administrative offices, Deidre Dinnigan toils in a cramped room not much larger than a closet. Ms. Dinnigan, the hotel's archivist, is responsible for cataloging and researching more than 4,000 objects, from filigreed brass room numbers to yellowing advertisements from the 1950s. ,,, The 123-year-old Waldorf Astoria is one of the few hotels with an extensive archive, and possibly the only one to have its own archivist. But the future of Ms. Dinnigan's position, and the collection that she oversees, is uncertain. The hotel, which was bought by a Chinese insurance company two years ago for a record $1.95 billion, is to close in the spring to undergo a conversion. Most of the 1,413-room premises will be turned into luxury condominiums, with a much smaller hotel component."

"Architect returned to design the bigger, grander Astoria, a task he fulfilled with considerable aplomb. Rising to a height of 18 stories and stretching 350 along West Thirty-fourth Street, it reduced the neighboring Waldorf to the status of poor relation. A mammoth cliff of dark red brick topped by a three-story , the new Astoria dominated the view for blocks up and down , its sheer magnitude setting a new standard for grand hotels of the coming century."

"The hotel — an masterpiece by on in — always had a residential component: It was home to everyone from Cole Porter, Marilyn Monroe, Frank Sinatra and the and to Presidents Herbert Hoover, Harry S. Truman and Dwight D. Eisenhower. The building’s exterior was designated a landmark by the in 1993 and parts of its interior were designated by the same body in 2017. ... The hotel was sold for $1.95 billion in 2014 by , its previous owner, to , a Chinese company that closed the building in 2017 to restore and renew it, aiming to reopen it in four years. But the Chinese government seized control of Anbang in 2018, sending its chairman to prison for fraud, and created the Daija Insurance Group in 2019 to assume control over Anbang’s assets. Daija now owns the hotel and residences."

"... In the record three-week-long on-site auction that followed the closing, souvenir collectors, sentimentalist, antiquarians, and dealers bid on more than twenty thousand lots of hotel property. ... The world-famous name "Waldorf-Astoria," which encapsulated the history of both an era and a dynasty, went for a token $1 to the builders of a new and otherwise unrelated hotel going up on Park Avenue. By February 1930 's great building, one of the architectural wonders of Manhattan, had been leveled."

"The hyphenated Waldorf-Astoria was actually two interconnected Astor family hotels. Both were the work of New York architect, , who designed them in the German Renaissance style. The twelve-story Waldorf was built in 1893 by . It was soon dwarfed and enfolded by the adjacent L-shaped sixteen-story Astoria, built by William's cousin, the former . The hotels were joined in 1897. A nasty, long-running fight between Caroline and William led her to instruct Hardenbergh to design the Astoria so that it could be sealed off from the Waldorf at each floor."

"... one of the most marvelous, I think, features of the Waldorf-Astoria is the use of nickeled throughout."

"The Peacock Alley Restaurant is an extension of the Waldorf's plush lobby, and it is lovely: filled with art deco treasures, ceilings etched with glass panels, patterned parquet floors, and murals of white peacocks. The walls are covered with French walnut burl s inlaid with ebony. The pillars are Moroccan marble, and the ceiling and cornices are covered in gold and silver leaf. ... Peacock Alley was the name given to a 300-foot-long corridor with amber marble and mirrored walls that connected two hotel buildings owned by 's great-grandsons, the feuding Astor cousins, and . It was a place to see and be seen. On weekends, up to 36,000 men and women walked the alley, admiring themselves and one another in the mirrors, prompting the name "Peacock Alley" as a description of the strutting to and fro. The Peacock Alley Restaurant was named for that famous corridor."

"How could one tell the story of the without evoking the Waldorf-Astoria? This seems almost impossible, as both edifices shared a site, at the corner of and Thirty-Fourth Street. This site, originally occupied by a small farm when it was bought by in 1827, has played a major role in the evolution of New York ... in the 1850s, had her mansion built on half the site, and she would organize lavish balls for the city's wealthy families, known as the . In 1893, her nephew, , erected on the other half of the site the , to which Caroline Astor replied in 1895 with the demolition of her own house, and the erection of her hotel, the . In 1897, the two hotels merged to become the prestigious Waldorf-Astoria. Thirty years later, the hotel aging and the price of land soaring, the Astors agreed to sell the whole site to real estate developers and decided to build a new Waldorf-Astoria uptown."

"The oft-married American actress , who became a household name in the 1890s for her delightful performances at “Lady Teazle” and other musical comedies of the day, was frequently a luncheon guest of at the Plaza. But she didn't come alone. She wheeled up to the hotel's steps on her diamond-studded bicycle which a few years earlier had helps her shed nearly 30 pounds of her ample girth. She usually left her bejeweled bicycle with the doorman, who put it behind lock and key in a luggage room to the right of the entrance."

"... Growing up in New York, with s at the Plaza from a very early age, my appreciation of the past and even my feeling for New York is undoubtedly conditioned by associations with that solid structure. I did not learn until years after those teas that the architect was and the date of its construction 1907, and that it was a high point of , inside and out. ... Although it is an official New York City landmark, the has jurisdiction only over what happens to its exterior. What is going on inside, where the interiors were of a piece, or to be more elegant, de l'epoque, is a kind of creeping, crawling bad taste in which even the authentic is being made to look fake. Through atrociously ill‐advised remodeling, touted as the hotel's entry into the 1970's, the Plaza is being adulterated to look and feel like any number of other older big city hotels of residual grandeur, cheapened with tricksy restaurants full of familiar and rather loathesome design gimmicks and arch menus and publicity to match."

"In its eighty-plus years, the Plaza has had seven owners. The United States Realty and Improvement Company, whose construction subsidiary built it, owned it until 1943. then ran it until 1953. The Boston industrialist owned it up to 1958; then , a New York lawyer and realty investor, had it fleetingly before Sonnabend repurchased it. The ... took over the hotel in 1975 ... A partnership made of the of , and the bought it in January 1988 for about $300 million but barely had time to take a get-acquainted tour of the place before agreeing to sell it for a quick and handsome profit to the casino operator and real estate wheeler-dealer , who paid a rather exorbitant $390 million."

"This new 18-story Plaza was indeed a skyscraper. Like the new 42-story when in was built at and in 1931. The Plaza offered unobstructed views of both the and s. From the top of its you had a wonderful view on clear moonlit nights of the torch of the far to the South in ."

"Work on the original Plaza Hotel began in 1883 using plans drawn up by architect George W. DeCunha. The builders ran out of money prior to completion. In 1888, foreclosed and brought in to redesign the interior. The eight story, 400 room Plaza opened in the fall of 1890 ... The demise of the "old" Plaza was decreed at the one afternoon over lunch. ... The old hotel had too few rooms to generate sufficient cash flow. ... New York architect, , was retained to design the "new" Plaza Hotel. He opted for the new steel skeleton technology that had been used earlier by , the hotel's co-owner, when he built the . The eighteen-story brick and marble French Renaissance-style Plaza Hotel cost over $12.5 million. The hotel had eight hundred rooms and five hundred baths when it opened in the fall of 1907. It had centrally controlled electric clocks and telephones in every room. The public area had crystal chandeliers, marble fireplaces and staircases, and no end of elegant appointments."

"There were few finer views in New York at mid-century than the panorama from 's second-floor corner suite at the Plaza Hotel. Beyond its tall arched windows facing and , the city's premier green space, , stretched north in one unbroken 843-acre swath. Along the east side of the park stood prestigious residences and great cultural institutions, including the , the , and "," once home to a procession of opulent turn-of-the-century mansions built by some of New York's wealthiest families. To the south, fashionable department stores, and chic shops marched toward midtown. Thirty blocks to the north on Fifth Avenue, between East Eighty-Eighth and East s, stood the site upon which the would soon begin to rise. Stunning views aside, the Plaza was an ideal location for Wright's Manhattan home base. The hotel's peerless address and tradition of excellence were well suited his rarified personal tastes and exacting standards. Above all, the Plaza was regarded by many as the finest hotel in a city of splendid hotels, and Wright had great affection for the building."

"For nearly fifty years after it was completed the Brooklyn Bridge reigned supreme as the most magnificent, if not technically the largest, on earth. In its initial days as a public thoroughfare it was commonly referred to as "The Eighth Wonder of the World" as it was even greater sensation than anyone had expected. On its first full day, May 25, 1883, a total of 150,300 people crossed on foot and 1,800 vehicles went over carrying an unknown number of others."

"Between the completion of the bridge on paper and the inauguration of construction, a distressing event took place. This was the death of , in 1869. It was difficult to believe that the loss would not prove irreparable, and yet in fact had preserved him to be the real builder of the bridge, although not a hammer had been lifted when he died. His son, , who was already associated with the work, enjoyed the confidence and shared the ability of his father. The board of trustees appointed him chief engineer—the position he has held during the entire progress of construction."

"When, in 1865, Mr. first took fairly hold of this enterprise, and had plans and estimates made by competent men, almost the same line was recommended as the Bridge actually now occupies. This line extends from a point in Brooklyn near the junction of and s about 38½ above , to , near the , about 61½ feet above high-water mark. When afterwards permission was obtained from the United States Government to put a suspension-bridge across the river, that permission stipulated that the channel of the river should not be interfered with in any way, and that the highest part of the Bridge should be at least one hundred and thirty-five feet above high-water mark."

"... In 1921, the bridge was a cornerstone image in and 's cinematic hymn to New York, '. Subsequently, the bridge has appeared in countless films, from 's ' (1928) and 's ' (1933) to such recent blockbusters as ' (1998), (1998), (1999), and ' (2001)."

"The Brooklyn Bridge, like that of , is carried on four main cables. The supports are two huge towers, rising 272 feet above high water. At the river level they measure 140 feet broad by 50 deep, which dimensions decrease to 120×40 feet at the summit. ... The most interesting feature of the bridge is the cable work. Each of the four cables, anchored at either end to massive 13-ton plates, embedded in huge masses of masonry, each representing more than 44,000 tons, contains 5296 galvanised steel wires, which were carried separately from tower to tower, and bound up together in a parallel formation into a cylinder 15¾ inches in diameter."

"For those who do not care to prowl about for the scattered bits of interest or who prefer what would call "a magnificent panorama," there are plenty of good points of vantage from which to see whole sections at once, such as the or the tops of high buildings, or, obviously, Brooklyn Bridge, which is so very obvious that many Manhattanese would never make use of this opportunity were it not for an occasional out-of-town visitor on their hands. No one ought to be allowed to live in —he ought to be made to live in —who does not go out there and look back at his town once a year. He could look at it every day and get new effects of light and color. Even in sky-line he could find something new almost every week or two."

"The opening of the "Eighth Wonder of the World, on May 24, 1883, was the biggest celebration New York had seen since the opening of the nearly sixty years before. Some of the Irish were unhappy because the day chosen for the ceremony happened also to be 's birthday, but almost everybody else had a splendid time."

"In May of 1884, , "in the interest of the dear public," took a herd of twenty-one elephants, including the famous "," over the bridge to Brooklyn and thereupon declared that he, too, was now perfectly satisfied as to the solidity of the masterpiece."

"It has felt like 5:30 P.M. in the lobby of the Algonquin Hotel for nearly 90 years now. While the city changes around it, the Algonquin just goes on and on in chronic, romantic twilight, haunted by some lost souls who ate es at a certain a long time ago. But even the Algonquin changes hands every 40 years or so. In 1987, the , a Tokyo-based hotel group that also owns , bought the Algonquin for $30 million. The sale prompted relatively little of the usual xenophobic hand-wringing. What little there was seemed to occur in the Algonquin lobby. ... Each room is stocked with recent issues of '."

"was a group of literary figures, mostly writers and press agents, who met regularly for lunch at the Algonquin Hotel in New York City during the 1920s. The members became a cultural institution, famous mostly for being famous, enjoying humorous conversation and games, and furthering each other’s careers and reputations. ... Besides , some of the other regular Algonquinites over the years were Woollcott’s assistant, ; of the ' and a playwright; Arthur Samuels, editor of '; , a staff writer at '; , editor of Vanity Fair, later a drama critic for ', and a sometime actor; and , short story writer, poet, and Vanity Fair drama critic. As the group grew in reputation and social connections, it drew in new members, such as the well-known actor , and the cost of annual membership was raised to $1,000, further strengthening the group’s exclusivity. ... by the early 1930s, the Algonquin Round Table had officially disbanded."

"The Algonquin Hotel, located on West 44th Street in New York City, is a turn-of-the-century structure. Both the exterior and the interior of the building reflect this era. The physical appearance of the large lobby, elegant dining rooms, and the intimate private rooms provided the stimulus for this study. ... Sensual reds, browns, and golds enhance the dimly lit lobby. Every aspect of the decor, from the sculpted ivory ceiling to the dark wooden wall panels and pillars is appealing. Lighting fixtures with brass designs adorn the pillars with similar chandeliers hanging throughout, and antique lamps with painted bases spot the tables in the lobby. Much of the furniture is upholstered in brocade and velvet with interesting patterns and weaves. The glass on the entry doors and the dividing panel are incised with design. Large brass ashtrays, fresh flowers, and bells on the tables all ornament the lobby appropriately. The private rooms, even with their visual signs of aging, retain the charm of the lobby. They do not seem to have changed drastically since the 1920's. Instead of plastic or cheap veneer, all of the appointments are brass, solid wood and leather. The drapes, wall coverings and bathrooms are all preserved quite well. Rather than cardboard reproductions in plastic frames, only original s and prints dating from 1920-1940 adorn the walls."

""It spreads,'" the campaign-carried on by long-distance telephone, with "Saint Diogenes supreme commander." At the fifty-ninth minute of the eleventh hour, a rescuer makes room for Mr. Carnegie's music hall, which by degrees became (becomes) our music stronghold (accented on the "ne," as perhaps you don't have to be told). Paderewski's "palladian majesty" made it a fane; Tschaikovsky, of course, on the opening night, 1891; and Gilels, a master, playing. With Andrew C. and Mr. R.., "our spearhead, Mr. Star"- in music, Stern has grown forensic, and by civic piety has saved our city panic; rescuer of a music hall menaced by the "cannibal of real estate" - bulldozing potentate, land-grabber, the human crab left cowering like a neonate. As Venice "in defense of children" has forbidden for the citizen, by "a tradition of noble behavior, dress too strangely shaped or scant," posterity may impute error to our demolishers of glory. Jean Cocteau's "Preface to the Past" contains the phrase "When very young my dream was of pure glory." Must he say "was" of his "light dream," which confirms our glittering story?They need their old brown home. Cellist, violinist, pianist used to unmusical impenetralia's massive masonry-have found reasons to return. Fantasias of praise and rushings to the front dog the performer. We hunt you down, Saint Diogenes are thanking you for glittering, for rushing to the rescue as if you'd heard yourself performing."

"The Statue of Liberty is an extension of a tradition that seems to embody the contradictions in America's promise, and a reminder that its promises have not always been extended to us. As the narrator in James Baldwin's 1960 short story "This Morning, This Evening, So Soon" puts it, "I would never know what this statue meant to others, she had always been an ugly joke for me.""

"You have set up in New York Harbor a monstrous idol which you call Liberty. The only thing that remains to complete that monument is to put on its pedestal the inscription written by Dante on the gate of hell: "All hope abandon ye who enter here"."

"You know that our Statue of Liberty was a gift from France, and its sculptor, Auguste Bartholdi, was a son of France. I don't know if you've ever studied the face of the statue, but immigrants entering New York Harbor used to strain to see it, as if it would tell them something about their new world. It's a strong, kind face. It is the face of Bartholdi's mother, a woman of Alsace. And so, among the many things we Americans thank you for, we thank you for her. The Statue of Liberty—made in Europe, erected in America—helps remind us not only of past ties but present realities. It is to those realities we must look in order to dispel whatever doubts may exist about the course of history and the place of free men and women within it. We live in a complex, dangerous, divided world; yet a world which can provide all of the good things we require—spiritual and material—if we but have the confidence and courage to face history's challenge."

"Taking the form of a veiled peasant woman the statue was to stand 86 feet high, and its pedestal was to rise to a height of 48 feet."

"Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame, With conquering limbs astride from land to land; Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame. "Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!" cries she With silent lips. "Give me your tired, your poor, Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, The wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me, I lift my lamp beside the golden door!""

"Let us never forget that the deep things that are American are the soul and the spirit. The Statue of Liberty is not tired, and not because it is made of bronze. It is because no matter what happens, here the individual is dignified because he is created in the image of his god. Let us not forget it."

"Thou warden of the western gate, above Manhattan Bay, The fogs of doubt that hid thy face are driven clean away: Thine eyes at last look far and clear, thou liftest high thy hand To spread the light of liberty world-wide for every land."

"The statue is of Libertas, the Roman goddess of liberty. She holds a plaque in her left hand inscribed with July 4, 1776, in Roman numerals, the date of the Declaration of Independence. Her feet are circled with a broken shackle and chain celebrating US abolition of slavery. France's original idea for the gift occurred at the end of the Civil War. But the idea of liberation of the formerly enslaved rang hollow to those under the boot of a restored Southern order of racist repression. As the editor of the Black-owned newspaper the Cleveland Gazette, put it: “‘Liberty enlightening the world,’ indeed! The expression makes us sick. This government is a howling farce. It cannot or rather does not protect its citizens within its own borders. Shove the Bartholdi statue, torch and all, into the ocean until the "liberty" of this country is such as to make it possible for an inoffensive and industrious colored man to earn a respectable living for himself and family, without being ku-kluxed, perhaps murdered, his daughter and wife outraged, and his property destroyed. The idea of the "liberty" of this country "enlightening the world," or even Patagonia, is ridiculous in the extreme." And it is certain that "liberty" was laughable to the captive Geronimo and his people, who at the time were being shipped in chains to a dungeon prison at Fort Marion, Florida, or to those Indigenous nations that had been incarcerated in reservations carved out of their former homelands, learning that Congress was set to divide the reservation lands into marketable allotments, which would end up privatizing three-fourths of the already shrunken Native land base. Or for that matter, those teeming masses of Lazarus's poem, huddled in the overcrowded slums of the Lower East Side in New York City, who were doubtfully even aware of the festivities celebrating liberty…The Statue of Liberty was a marker on the path to the twentieth-century myth of the American Dream."

"Since September 11, 2001, I have often thought that perhaps it was fortunate for the world that the attackers targeted the World Trade Center instead of the Statue of Liberty, for if they had destroyed our sacred symbol of democracy I fear we as Americans would have been unable to keep ourselves from indulging in paroxysms of revenge of a sort the world has never seen before. If that had happened, it would have befouled the meaning of the Statue of Liberty beyond any hope of subsequent redemption -- if there were any people left to care. I have learned from my students that this upsetting thought of mine is subject to several unfortunate misconstruals, so let me expand on it to ward them off. The killing of thousands of innocents in the World Trade Center was a heinous crime, much more evil than the destruction of the Statue of Liberty would have been. And, yes, the World Trade Center was a much more appropriate symbol of al Qaeda's wrath than the Statue of Liberty would have been, but for that very reason it didn't mean as much, as a symbol, to us. It was Mammon and Plutocrats and Globalization, not Lady Liberty."

"We aren't here today to bow before the representation of a fierce warlike god, filled with wrath and vengeance, but we joyously contemplate instead our own deity keeping watch and ward before the open gates of America and greater than all that have been celebrated in ancient song. Instead of grasping in her hand thunderbolts of terror and of death, she holds aloft the light which illumines the way to man's enfranchisement. We will not forget that Liberty has here made her home, nor shall her chosen altar be neglected. Willing votaries will constantly keep alive its fires and these shall gleam upon the shores of our sister Republic thence, and joined with answering rays a stream of light shall pierce the darkness of ignorance and man's oppression, until Liberty enlightens the world."

"The massive figure of a bronze woman is covered from head to foot with green oxide. The cold face looks blindly through the fog into the ocean wasteland, as though the bronze were waiting for the sun to come and bring its dead eyes to life."

"Bartholdi produced a series of drawings in which the proposed statue began as a gigantic female fellah, or Arab peasant, and gradually evolved into a colossal goddess that resembled the ones he had contemplated in the early and mid 1860's."