We live a couple of blocks from Straus Park, a large traffic triangle, dominated by a lovely fountain dedicated to the memory of Isidor and Ida Strauss who died on the Titanic. In the spirit of the revitalization of public spaces in the 90’s, a neighborhoods group took over the programming and maintenance of the horticulture of the park – and they do a lovely job. This little space is a terrific neighborhood amenity.
Six months before the onset of the pandemic we got a dog, and part of my regular dog walking route was through the park. As a result, I came to appreciate the parks virtues all the more. I enjoyed the sparrows splashing in the park’s fountain. In the spring, the bulbs planted the prior fall are a colorful pleasure. The vibe from people reading, eating and just relaxing on the many benches speaks to the virtues of urban life, bringing together people from many backgrounds to enjoy sharing a public space.
When I first started my dog walking routine in 2019, I noticed that the park had several “BigBelly” trash cans. There are large rectangular structures of utilitarian design, which are advertised to compact trash using solar power, enabling pickups from them to be less frequent. One of the cans in Straus Park was not functioning and was conspicuously wrapped in black plastic bags. It is worth noting, but not worth dwelling upon, that I have long found BigBellies to be the pirates of street furniture and was dismayed that the Parks Department thought it appropriate to deploy them (in large part because the emptying of trash bins is something to be encouraged, as it provides activity in otherwise dormant public spaces, creates “eyes on the street,” as well as the low skill, entry level employment so much needed in New York). But, jeez, if DPR is going to use them, they ought to at least be maintained.
Every day, sometimes several times a day I would walk by this piece of junk, and it would annoy me. It came to a point where my wife demanded I stop talking about it. The pandemic came and mostly went, and four years later the damn thing was still there. This was important because non-working features of a public space are an indication of disorder – suggesting to users that anti-social behavior is tolerated. That i) leads others who are so included to engage in anti-social behavior and ii) gives other the idea that anti-social behavior is possible/likely in that space – leading to a perception of lack of safety there. In Straus Park there were lots of other ques that the park was being well maintained and that there was an understanding among park users about certain standards of behavior: the horticulture was highly and visibly tended, the fountain worked, trashed was routinely picked up. All kinds of people used the park – and clearly subscribed to the social contract regarding conventions of acceptable behavior. The broken BigBelly itself wasn’t a tremendous problem – but it could have been the first incline on a slippery slope to neglect.
In the fall of 2022, I finally decided to try to get it fixed. I took pictures of it. I emailed a request that it be repaired and removed to 311 on October 27th with the photo. I got back a service request confirmation from 311 and then nothing happened. On December 28th, I a sent a copy of the service request confirmation to our local City Council Member, the Riverside Park Conservancy (which in the past has taken some responsibility for Straus Park), the Parks Department general email box and the Parks Commissioner (I guessed at her email address). The email to the Parks Commissioner bounced back. I contacted former Parks Commissioner, Adrian Benepe, our neighbor, who pointed me in the right direction and gave me an attaboy for trying. The Commissioner, who I don’t know personally (unlike most of her recent predecessors) I have only heard referred to a Sue Donoghue, uses Susan in the Parks protocol email address.
I also called the BigBelly corporate office in Boston and tried to persuade them to fix or remove the thing. They told me to buzz off, as the can belonged to Parks and they weren’t responsible for it.
I then left for a month in Hawai’i.
Three weeks later, while in Waikiki, given the magic of mobile phone technology, I got a call from a Parks Department employee (at 5AM local time). I later returned the call. The Parks employee acknowledged receipt of my request to the Commissioner’s office (not the original 311 request) and told me removing the BigBelly from Strauss Park was now on his “to do” list as the district manager for the park, and it would likely be removed in the next few months. I zealously advocated with this nice person that DPR should be embarrassed that this broken piece of equipment had been open and notoriously existing in Straus Park for at least four years without repair or removal. Given my knowledge of DPR operations, I suggested to him several ways of getting the resources (like a Riverside Park pick-up truck) required to get rid of the can. We ended the call amicably and he said he would see what he could do.
Upon our return from the Mid-Pacific, I made a beeline to Straus Park to see what was up – and the can was at last gone. I felt a smug sense of accomplishment and returning home, sent around a thank you email to all concerned. I doubt anyone else noticed. And it certainly wasn’t a big deal. But it does tell us two important things. First, that the Parks Department does not have sufficient resources to do basic park maintenance, which has been obvious for some time (as evidenced by routine overflowing trash baskets and un-mowed turf in Riverside Park).
311
But more importantly it is an object lesson in the failure of the City’s 311 system – which has become a data collection program, and not a way to improve delivery of services. In my time at DoITT, I was excoriated for not routinely closing out cable complaints as had been done by my predecessors. We closed out complaints only when issues had been resolved to a customer’s satisfaction, or when we had made a determination that the customer’s issue wasn’t susceptible to satisfactory resolution. My team was rebuked for not meeting our SLR (service level requirements). In my experience, 311 requests do not result in effective and appropriate city action. Requests get routinely closed out by the bureaucracy because its internal standards for resolution have been met – which has nothing to do with actually solving the problem. 311, with all of its elaborate software and hundreds of employees taking calls, appears to be a Potemkin Village. While the Annual Mayor’s Management Report may record and report the number of type of requests, it does not reflect the actual resolution of problems in the real world outside the bureaucracy. It is virtually useless as a management tool, as far as I can tell.
My original service request said that I would receive a response within thirty days. I’m still waiting. [Note to spouse: sorry about this post. It’s now out of my system. You won’t hear about it again.]
The Adams Administration recently announced the appointment of a “Director of the Public Realm,” a newly created position. The idea for this post was advanced in recent years through the advocacy of civic groups concerned about public design, like the Municipal Art Society and the Design Trust for Public Space. The creation of the office became something of a (quiet) rallying cry during the last Mayoral election. The Mayor has appointed Ya-Ting Liu to the job, who, while not someone I know (not that it matters), seems well qualified for the role, with degrees from Berkely and MIT, and time spent at Transportation Alternatives and City Hall. Presumably, in the eyes of the public design and placemaking communities this is a professional who is both for the right things and is knowledgeable about the workings of city government, reporting directly to a Deputy Mayor. As someone who has worked on improving public spaces, streets and sidewalks in New York City for 30 years, including as the long-time chair of the Streets and Sidewalks Committee of the MAS, I can only wish her well.
Unfortunately, though, having a Director of the Public Realm probably isn’t a particularly good idea. It’s unlikely to contribute much to making public spaces better. It does give the civic groups (which during the Bloomberg Administration became quiescent) someone they can talk to in City Hall, and who would presumably be receptive to their ideas. However, based on my experience in City government, the office has a low probability having much impact, and over time will add to the bureaucratic dysfunction of city government as senior officials in City Hall lose interest in the initiative and/or are replaced by people who don’t see it as the priority Mayor Adams and Deputy Mayor Joshi presumably do.
The news rack designed by Ignacio Ciocchini for Grand Central Partnership. Ciocchini has designed most of New York City’s best street furniture
I experienced this firsthand in my time at the Department of Information Technology and Telecommunications (DoITT, now Office of Technology Innovation, OTI). DoITT was a relatively new City agency, established as a home for the once important city cable franchises (after the elimination of the discredited Bureau of Franchises as a result of a charter change) and the new and growing in importance technological support functions for other City agencies. It grew into a sizable bureaucracy that included the City’s 311 service, its procurement of hardware, software and telecommunications services, with its own capacity to code software to meet the City’s routine needs and with the capacity to house and support redundant servicer capacity for data and software.
A parallel Office of the Chief Technology Officer was created during the Bloomberg Administration. A key strategy of Mayor Bloomberg in accomplishing his administration’s goals appeared to be working around existing bureaucracies, by setting up offices in City Hall focused on the Mayor’s policy priorities, like sustainability and technology innovation. I speculate that Bloomberg and his staff decided that working through the existing agencies would frustrate their initiatives, and that life was too short to attempt to reform the deep dysfunction in City operations, particularly with respect to procurement and human resources.
While the CTO might have had some viability when it was first established in driving new ideas in municipal technology, it became just another bureaucratic power center. After Bloomberg, in the De Blasio Administration, it was staffed by smart, committed advocates dedicated to closing the digital divide (I have previously written here about my skepticism as to whether there actually is a digital divide https://www.theplacemaster.com/2022/07/31/expanding-the-reach-of-the-internet-in-new-york-city/). The Bloomberg priorities became orphans. The De Blasio CTO announced lots of grand plans that never came to much. But more significantly, the CTO spent much of its time sparring with DoITT over turf, credit for accomplishment and the Mayor’s attention. All three of the Commissioners whom I served made clear that the CTO was an adversary and encouraged ignoring them and engaging in parallel projects. There was much energy wasted in sniping at each other. Personally, I tried to leverage the resources available at the CTO, swiping my best staff member from them and trying to improve the CTO’s work product when and where I could (including spending two weeks editing and rewriting the Internet Master Plan, which when it came to me was drafted by a consulting firm the City had hired in a language that only remotely resembled English). Recently, that Master Plan, a signal achievement of De Blasio CTO’s office was abandoned by the Adams Administration (in my view no great loss, despite, or maybe even because, of my contribution).
Ciocchini’s proposed design for the telecommunications kiosk. Far superior to the design approved by the design commission
In my experience, there is simply no substitute for hiring talented, dedicated, well-trained, right-thinking officials in the relevant agencies and empowering them to take risks and make decisions in order to enable the bureaucracies to “get stuff done.” Setting up offices in City Hall to coordinate policy and spearhead thoughtful new initiatives isn’t a thing that actually functions in the real world. It just doesn’t work, and over time because of the fighting over turf, makes the bureaucracy worse. Over time, the managerial vectors have moved in the wrong direction, with decision making power drifting up and being centralized in the Mayor. The order of the day in the agencies has become avoiding making mistakes and waiting for direction from City Hall.
In the design and public space realm in City government there have been agency staff who have had a positive impact on in making good design in public space a priority from both the top and middle management of agencies, some over and some under the radar. As Design and Construction Commissioner, David Burney created a Design Excellence Program, which has become partially embedded in the agency’s DNA – employing a wider range of architects and engineers, some of whom have established high design credentials. At the MTA, Wendy Feuer and now Sandra Bloodworth have made its Arts in Transit program a huge success. They created a gold standard selection process for artists that has produced outstanding results – most recently in the Times Square/Sixth Avenue subway connection and in the new Grand Central Madison. Wendy took her design sensibility to the City’s Department of Transportation’s Urban Design group, and, working with Commissioner Polly Trottenberg, successfully inserted design and public space management interests into DOT’s day to day work.
In my time at DoITT I sought out others in City government concerned about quality design in public projects and on the streets and sidewalks and tried to create an informal network of like-minded bureaucrats. At the same time, I attempted to imbue our DoITT team with a sensitivity to design issues and the impact of telecommunications infrastructure on public space. The first two commissioners for whom I worked were technologists who didn’t have design top of mind, and I was able to work under the radar. Later, we rammed through a number of utilitarian objects of streetscape, the implications of which are only now being realized (and resisted) and my ability to influence policy went to nil. Newly installed larger mobile telecom 5G transmitter enclosures on light and signal poles and very tall, utilitarian LinkNYC 5G structures (about which I have previously written) are now beginning to appear on the City’s streetscape.
A decrepit dining shed removed by the City
Best case, Ms. Liu seeks out those with design sensibility and expertise in public space programming in the agencies and provides support for their efforts, works to encourage the agencies to create centers of good design (and I can’t think of any agency that doesn’t have an impact on structures and streetscapes) and creates programs encouraging the incorporation of design and placemaking sensibilities in all of the City’s endeavors in public spaces and City facilities. To advance my own hobby horse, creating a striking, distinctive purpose-built telecommunications structure to replace the eyesores now going up all over town, would be a lay-up and great place to start. I’d also suggests securing resources to program DOT’s Open Streets initiative. The Administration’s excellent New New York Action Plan would be a good place to start to find worthwhile ideas for revitalizing commercial corridors and improving public spaces.
Ms. Liu’s initial assignment will probably to come up with rules institutionalizing the tremendously successful Open Restaurant and Open Streets programs created during COVID. As is typical with New York open space issues, there are loud voices seeking to shut those programs down, and to heavily regulate commercial activity on streets and sidewalks. Those forces need to be boldly resisted. My suggestion is to get rid of the dining sheds in the roadbeds, which have outlived their COVID pandemic usefulness, some of which have become derelict. Putting chairs and tables on sidewalks should be made as streamlined as possible – with the City getting a license fee per square feet occupied – calibrated by borough and neighborhood. Economic actors who use public space to generate revenue should pay for the privilege (that includes you, broadband providers!).
The downtowns in Schenectady and Troy are both success stories. They are similar-sized small cities, with commercial centers that developed in very different ways, likely because of the different periods that proved to be their hay-days. Both have populations substantially below their peaks (Schenectady, now 70,000, peaked at 95,000 in 1930; Troy, now 50,000, peaked at 76,000 in 1910). Both have anchor institutions of higher education. Union College, founded in Schenectady in 1795, and now with 2,200 students. Rensselaer Polytechnic Institution was founded in 1824 and has 8,000 students in Troy. Neither particularly has the feel of a college town, though. They are certainly archetypes of what the downtown of a post-industrial Mohawk Valley city can be—even despite a one-third decline in population from their largest. What signifies that these places are successful? They are busy and lively, they have few empty storefronts, their buildings are architecturally interesting and well maintained, and they have an interesting mix of ground floor uses.
What is particularly impressive about Schenectady is the harmony between old and new buildings along State Street, its main commercial corridor. All down State Street the street wall is continuous, the building heights are consistent and the facades of the new developments, several of them mixed-use retail/residential and others retail/commercial, are respectful of their context. None of these new developments draw attention to themselves, and all are knitted into the urban fabric, while clearly marking themselves as someplace interesting and new. It appears that several of these structures were designed by a local firm. State Street has to be one of the best main streets in the country, by most measures. For example, it feels more substantial and more modern (less like a stage set), than Corning’s famous downtown.
A new, mixed-use structure that fits right in
Schenectady was the corporate home of General Electric (before it veered away from manufacturing to become a brutally managed ponzi scheme of financial services), which retains a small presence in the town – but is nowhere near what it once was. GE had both corporate offices and manufacturing facilities in the town. A large historic factory structure continues to bear a gigantic sign for the company. A fun fact is that because of GE’s presence, it had the country’s second commercial radio station. Railroading was also a major factor in Schenectady’s economy. The New York Central stopped in town, and it continues to have Amtrak service. But, at least equally important, it was the manufacturing home of the American Locomotive Company, a major American builder of steam, and then diesel, engines for trains. That company no longer exists.
Jay Street Mall
The city mostly has the feel of a leafy suburb with an attractive downtown and a self-contained, traditional college campus. One of the features of the commercial district is a very good looking and interestingly tenanted pedestrianized alley that leads from State Street to the near the train station, called the Jay Street Pedestrian Mall. It is clearly well managed and maintained. State Street also features a 1926 Proctor’s Theater that remains active and in use. The beautiful homes lining the residential streets are very much the result of the cadre of well-compensated GE executives who once made their homes in Schenectady and a community planned by the company to attract them.
It seems pretty clear from walking around that Schenectady’s is a planned, managed success. Civic leaders focused their efforts on State and Jay Streets and created and enforced smart zoning and design standards. No doubt it was just as devastated by the GE’s downsizing and ALC’s demise, as Amsterdam was with the collapse of the local carpet manufacturing business. But use was made of its in-place social infrastructure to produce what is likely a very, very nice place to live, work or shop.
A taste of Troy’s charm
Troy is different. It has more of a downtown area than a main street. Troy was a major commercial center very early in the history of the country. Located on the Hudson River at the point where it ceases to be navigable, it was already a locus for transportation before the construction of the Erie Canal, which met the Hudson near Troy and super-charged the local economy. The railroads, similarly, used Troy as a center, where the Hudson could be bridged to connect them to the West. If you were traveling west from New York City, you either had to take a ferry across the Hudson to Hoboken or Jersey City, or a train which turned to the west at Troy. This was true, and mostly remains true, for both passengers and freight. The Amtrak station in Rensselaer, just south of downtown, serves the city of Albany and is a major link between the state’s capital and its largest city.
Troy Savings Bank Music Hall
With its access to coal and iron via waterways, canals and ultimately railroads, Troy was also an important, early steel manufacturing center. As a commercial center beginning around 1800, it is interesting to note that Troy’s population peaked before then that of other Mohawk Valley cities, but began to decline at around the same time.
Today you can get a sense of Troy’s history by watching “The Gilded Age,” Julian Fellowes American version of Downtown Abbey, where some of exteriors are filmed, and are easily distinguished from the scenes with absolutely dreadful computer-generated backgrounds (the CGI exteriors being the worst part of an otherwise enjoyable entertainment). The downtown retains its early 19th century character and charm. Troy is also known for the concert venue in a (now former) downtown bank, with renowned acoustics often used for recordings during the gold age of the LP. Troy’s historic downtown is made up of many full blocks. It is more of a neighborhood than a commercial strip, I would imagine this reflects its early 19th century origins and development patterns from that period. It has the kind of vibe that you find in New York City’s Greenwich Village or Brooklyn Heights, developed at around the same time, and now are among New York’s most desirable and visited places. While Troy had a number of major 19th Century fires, the blocks of the downtown remain remarkably well preserved. Venerating these blocks isn’t simply historic preservation idolatry or some kind of return to a romantic ideal, but a recognition of the importance of human scale and the centrality of a mixture of uses to creating the kind of places where people want to be. There certainly are people who spent millions of dollars to live on high floors in Hudson Yards, but I would venture to say that those are people who have values that are in the very skinny end of a bell curve in terms of their distribution.
Troy is a little different, in having a commercial area, rather than a commercial corridor. That makes it less of a model for many other small cities. But like Over-the-Rhine in Cincinnati, a vibrant commercial district can be an ever more powerful driver of urban vitality, and is certainly a place worth looking at for examples of success.
One of the many retail blocks in Troy
The Mohawk and Hudson valleys are places that continue to stop human beings in their tracks with their beauty. The construction of the Erie Canal was a critical milestone in every aspect of the growth and development of the United States. The area has an abundance of natural and social assets, including a large number of important educational and cultural institutions. It also has access to water (not a given in many places today) and a climate that, for better or worse more globally, has grown more temperate as the climate changes. Some of the cities whose growth was fostered by the canal have not yet recovered from the post-World War II deindustrialization. While others, like Schenectady and Troy are thriving. They are models for what is possible. What places like Syracuse and Amsterdam (as well as Utica) need are most importantly a desire to change and a willingness to accept new people, new ideas and new forms of economic and social activity. We know how to do downtown restoration, and we have the cities that demonstrate that. Where an old guard clings to the remnants of the dregs of former expansive wealth and power, desolation remains.
Why do the prospects for downtown Syracuse seem so much bleaker than those for Rochester? Syracuse has a current population of about 150,000 (from a peak of 220,000 in 1950), while Rochester’s population is 210,000 (peak of 330,000 in 1950). Those seem like about the same orders of magnitude, and in fact, the depopulation of Rochester over the decades has been more severe. Syracuse has a very important anchor institution in the Upstate Medical University, with over 10,000 employees and a budget of almost $2 billion. It also has Syracuse University, with 4,500 employees and 21,000 students. The University, unlike any of those in Rochester, has a noted sports program, with a high-profile basketball team. The Syracuse metro has a population of about 670,000.
Clinton Square on a Friday afternoon.
But something about downtown Syracuse gives it a feeling of desolation and lack of activity. Its public spaces are empty and poorly maintained. It has acres of surface parking lots (presumably where abandoned buildings were demolished), while Rochester has an extensive network of structured parking. Syracuse’s nods to current trends in urbanism, like shared scooters, fixed public seating, Victor Stanley trash baskets, and expensive newly installed hardscape like distinctive pavers and traffic calming bump-outs (traffic calming, where there is no traffic?) feel like afterthoughts. This is probably because they are so static – with almost no pedestrian activity. Of course, at one point in the 80’s built pedestrian skybridges were built, to get office workers off the “unsafe” streets and out of the winter weather – a move that has proven disastrous for most places. There also appears to be a small amount of residential development downtown, following the trend (including adaptive reuse of commercial structures) – but I would imagine downtown life in Syracuse to be a hard sell.
One observation I drew from the Rochester/Syracuse comparison is that in terms of a perception of safety and activity downtown, parking structures do way less damage than open lots. This isn’t something I had previously noticed. Garages continue the street wall and give at least some sense of activity – although they generally, unless they are well designed, present blank walls to the street and create pedestrian dead zones. But walking around Syracuse leads one to conclude that flat parking conveys a much stronger feeling of a lack of activity and dereliction. Continuous street walls, even ones without ground floor retail activity, are important to a sense of urbanity. Lots full of cars lead to a feeling of abandonment, particularly if the lots are mostly empty.
New multi-family housing in downtown Syracuse.
It is highly worth noting that I walked to dinner through the dark, bleak downtown, past the city’s main public space, Clinton Square, which looks abandoned and ominous, to Dinosaur Bar-B-Que. I was told that there was a half hour wait for a table. The place next door, Apizza Regionale, was also hopping. So, people were coming downtown on a Friday night for dining and drinking – even though there appeared to be no one on the street.
My internet search for a distinctive place to stay yielded only chains along highways, with almost no acceptable options downtown (the Trip Advisor reviews of the non-chain places downtown were hair raising) – so we stayed at a bleak Quality Inn, with small (clean) rooms, no closets, outdoor corridors, and a plexiglass window with a slot where customers once slid their credit cards through for payment. The motel was located right next to the elevated IH 81, which slices through the middle of town, and is charged with much of the city’s ills. Planning is underway to tear down the highway as a vehicle for revitalizing the downtown.
The lobby of the Hotel Syracuse.
Oddly enough, Syracuse has a great, historic hotel. The Hotel Syracuse, built in 1924, is beautifully maintained with spectacular public rooms. It is both a Marriott and a member of Historic Hotels of America. Why I didn’t find in in my internet search is a mystery to me (and no one recommend it to me as I was planning the trip). The property also doesn’t come up on Google Maps until you have magnified the image to the maximum. The hotel is a major civic asset, and I was glad I eventually found it during my walking around. It is likely the grandest hotel in Upstate New York. The dark, cramped Quality Inn, at $285 per night, was the most expensive place we stayed on our bi-state odyssey. I have to think this whole business a detriment as to the way Syracuse presents itself to the world, even if I am an embarrassed, incompetent internet searcher.
Buildings facing Clinton Square
Clinton Square is truly awful. It has some important neo-gothic buildings around it, and those two restaurants are adjacent to it. It is organized around an impressive City Beautiful era Civil War monument completed in 1910. The monument was erected adjacent to the Erie Canal, which in time was covered over and became Erie Boulevard. The square also has seen some recent rebuilding of adjoining sidewalks and curbs. There is ice skating on the square in the winter and it appeared that the infrastructure for the ice rink is just left lying around during the off season. The square looks unused and neglected, with a few scattered desultory benches and picnic tables cemented to the ground. The extensive hardscaping is windswept and empty.
A historical map of the downtown, showing where the canal used to run
South Salina Street was once the main shopping district of Syracuse and today has many empty stores. One bright spot on Salina is the recently opened Parthenon Books, a large bight store, with a carefully curated inventory. There are a half a dozen midcentury modern office towers nearby. The city has quite a few older architecturally interesting commercial and civic buildings, but they are spread out around the downtown and don’t create any sense of urban synergy. It would be hard to say what the 100% corner of Syracuse is. The downtown doesn’t have a center. Given that, I’m not sure what good tearing down the highway is going to do towards revitalizing Syracuse, particularly if it is replaced with a multi-lane boulevard. The theory is that removing that highway will “reknit” the city. Under present circumstances, there isn’t actually enough downtown activity to be connected. A better focus for Syracuse’s boosters would be to pick a corner (near the book store?) and focus on creating a constant stream of activity at that place – through incentivizing food and drink (with outdoor dining and drinking) and other distinctive retail uses; as well as in activating nearby public spaces with activity. The billions of dollars that will be expended on bringing highway traffic to ground level might be better spent on filling in the gaps in pedestrian activity created by the flat parking.
The downtown skyline
The University is a good long walk from the downtown and seems to be off by itself. This is most likely by design, to separate the campus in its marketing to prospective students from a drab urban setting. The University certainly needs to be encouraged to be more aggressive about attaching itself to the downtown, by moving high visibility, street level uses there. Also, two and half miles from downtown Syracuse is Destiny USA, built in 1990 and formerly know as Carousel Center. It is a 2.4 million square foot project (the country’s 8th largest), featuring over 250 stores. The mall markets itself as a travel destination. That probably explains a lot about the absence of pedestrian life downtown.
This about says it all
It is telling that while the Rochester Philharmonic is a first-class organization, the Syracuse Symphony, conducted at one time by Christopher Keene, was allowed to fold in 1991. It may well be that civic leaders of Syracuse don’t much care about how the downtown works. It certainly looks that way. Likely for the corporate leaders who drive in to Syracuse in the morning and leave for the suburbs in the evening, the situation is good enough. The political structure, no doubt, fears that economic or demographic change will threaten its grip on the reins of power, the otherwise comfortable lives they lead outside the downtown and the contracts they let and control.
There is positive energy to be harnessed in downtown Syracuse as the two busy restaurants and magnificent hotel demonstrate. Again, as with Amsterdam, there is a lot of stranded social infrastructure in downtown Syracuse, at a time when pundits have declared a national housing “crisis” and tens of thousands of people are eager to move their lives to the United States from the many places across the world in turmoil and economic decline or stagnation. It just doesn’t make any sense not to use and leverage Syracuse’s still substantial resources to address those problems. It will take small scale risk taking and large-scale civic leadership, particularly by private sector anchor institutions to make the downtown once again a great place.
Why are these seats here? Who is going to sit on them? Why would they?
The Standard Approach to Economic Deevelopment in New York State
Amsterdam is an object lesson in how downtown revitalization and economic development strategy might be better implemented in New York State. Replacing a project-centered and economic sector strategy with a place-centered approach to improving conditions in Amsterdam would likely make a substantial difference in outcomes. A number of expensive, major initiatives implemented in Amsterdam to revive its economy over the past half-century have been failures.
This small city, located on the Mohawk River between Rochester and Albany, was for decades a major center for the manufacturing of carpets. In addition to access to the transportation advantages of the Erie Canal, the Chuctanunda Creek, running through the middle of the city drops three hundred feet during its last three miles, provided the power that drove the many mills that became central to Amsterdam’s development. With the carpet and other mills running at full production, by 1930 the city’s population grew to 34,000. With the transfer of mill operations away from the unionized north to the lower cost south beginning in the 1960’s, the population has dropped to just over half that. The mill buildings have now either been demolished, abandoned or are lightly tenanted. Nothing approaching the economic vitality of the high value-added textile business has replaced them.
The New York State Thruway, the major transportation corridor across the state, runs by and has an exit hundreds of yards from the city’s center. This has been less than a blessing for Amsterdam, as the street though the downtown that became the access road to the bridge over the Mohawk leading to the Thruway (built in the 50’s), Route 30, appears to have been widened to increase its capacity, while bifurcating, and effectively obliterating the downtown.
The Amsterdam RiverFront Center facing Route 30.
Inside The Riverfront Center
Two major traditional economic development projects in Amsterdam illustrate clearly the problems with traditional capital intensive, large scale, “silver bullet” redevelopment thinking. Adjacent to Route 30, just as you drive over the bridge is the RiverFront Center (formerly, the Riverfront Mall). It is a 250,000 two-story, grim structure that appears to sit directly in the middle of what used to be Amsterdam’s main street. The Center has a rather small presentation to the street but stretches way back. It is about half leased, poorly lit and poorly maintained (including non-operating escalators). Most of the tenants are government agencies, social service organizations or health care providers. This project had to have cost tens of millions of dollars and is a net negative for the city, not only because of its utilitarian design, but also because of the sense of failure about it.
The Mohawk Valley Gateway Overlook crossing the river
By contrast, the Mohawk Valley Gateway Overlook, is beautifully designed and well maintained. The Overlook, completed in 2016, is a pedestrian bridge over the Mohawk leading to a well-landscaped riverbank park, principally designed for occasional outdoor performances. However, access to the bridge and park are very difficult to obtain – making any positive contribution the project might make to Amsterdam’s vitality clearly minimal. The bridge can be accessed from a parking lot across the river from downtown, a few hundred yards from Route 30. We had a difficult time finding it. The greenspace is on the same side of the river as the downtown but is cut off from downtown by the former New York Central Railroad tracks (now used by Amtrak). I saw a bridge over the tracks from the RiverFront Center to the park, but a rather thorough investigation of the Center yielded no access to the bridge – which leads to a very substantial stair structure (with a non-working elevator). As a result, in order to get to the park, one has to drive across the river, find the parking lot, and then walk back across the river on the pedestrian bridge. In addition, in my experience, having a few outdoor concerts during the season provides little economic benefit to the vitality of a downtown. In order for cultural programming to generate the kind of activity that makes a difference, it has to be on a daily, or near daily, schedule. There was no one else visiting the park or the bridge on the day I was there. It’s a shame, because walking across the Mohawk on the pedestrian bridge is a lovely experience, and the riverbank park also provides attractive views of the river and its surroundings. The location between the tracks and the river provides a sense of the richness and importance of the location in the state’s commercial history (even if it is an obstacle to access). There is also an unusual view of the Chuctanunda pouring through an arched viaduct into the Mohawk from the Overlook – providing a tangible idea of the energy of the water that powered the mills.
The bridge over the railroad tracks and stair tower at the Overlook park
No doubt both of these projects provided local elected officials and civic leaders with a sense of pride and a great opportunity for media attention when they were completed. But then what? Downtowns are rarely revitalized by “projects.” And it is obvious that these two aren’t contributing. Big projects often involve extensive planning and large capital outlays, and if they have problems are difficult to improve or correct. The same is true about industrial parks and multi-million-dollar industrial plant subsidies, often the go to strategy for local economic development. At their best, those kinds of traditional economic development projects are viable for only as long as government hands them money. They rarely become self-sustaining. For example, projects like the RiverFront Center (and, for example, the former NYC World Trade Center) usually rely on government tenants to fill them up, when the market demonstrates its lack of enthusiasm for a development that isn’t market driven.
What’s left of Main Street, Amsterdam
Much better is the iterative process of making incremental changes and providing continuous programming, which has worked in successful downtowns (like Corning, Schenectady and Troy). The placemaking approach takes time (and patience) and rarely provides for photo ops, but they generally involve much less money. I did notice one interesting center of activity in a former mill in Amsterdam, a company called “Sticker Mule,” which does internet printing and claims to have an international customer base, seemed to have a full parking lot. I’d certainly want to know a lot more about how they ended up in Amsterdam, what they see as it’s benefits and try to build on that.
I also wonder whether the kinetic energy of the Chuctanunda continues to have commercial value? Would it be economically possible to install micro-turbines to generate electricity in the old mills built on the banks of the creek? Those mills were designed to use its power to turn the spindles driving the mills, and so might be relatively straightforward to retrofit. Are there other efficient uses of that sustainable source of energy? Gravity has been pulling water down that 300 foot drop of the Chuctanunda for centuries, and will continue to do so without further investment.
The Castle hotel in Amsterdam — ready for Halloween!
I should also note that while in Amsterdam we stayed in a former National Guard armory that had been converted into a hotel and event space called The Castle. The armory was built in a neo-Gothic style and has all the external attributes of a castle perched on a hill overlooking the river, on the opposite bank from the downtown. The drill hall has been turned into a feasting hall, with suits of armor, heraldic banners and period paintings covering the walls. It’s a total trip. And the rooms are modern and comfortable. It was close to the parking for the Overlook, and equally out of the way, but a find. It is an usual resource that has been turned into a civic asset. The kind of creativity that went into buying and restoring it is what Amsterdam needs more of. It was an obsolete government-owned structure, that rather than being demolished and redeveloped using subsidies, was repurposed into a viable business.
I note, with a considerable sense of irony, that the Member of the U.S. Congress for Amsterdam is Mega-MAGA Elise Stefanic. It is not a sense of victimhood, nationalism or xenophobia that will improve the quality of life of the people of Amsterdam. It will take some risk taking, creativity and hard work. New York State’s economic development agency ought to make Amsterdam into a laboratory for exploring a range of placemaking initiatives through its underfunded Main Street program. In addition, given that it is half the size it once was, it is another place that might benefit from an infusion of energetic refugees and other immigrants. Clearly, what has been done in Amsterdam over the last century hasn’t worked. It needs new people and new ideas.
The cities that flourished as a result of the construction of the Erie Canal during the first half of the 19th Century are great places, blessed with abundant natural beauty around them. I took a recent driving trip to Rochester, Syracuse, Amsterdam, Schenectady and Troy (with visits to Auburn, Seneca Falls and Corning in the Finger Lakes region as well). Rochester, the state’s fourth largest city by population has a tremendous depth of anchor institutions, and a downtown with great potential for a mixed-use 24 hour downtown. Schenectady and Troy have beautiful, active downtowns. Syracuse and Amsterdam have serious, but solvable, problems. Over the next several weeks I hope to share my thoughts about these visits – my first to all of these places – a trip which I have long wanted to make. This week I will focus Rochester and the Rochester Philharmonic Orchestra.
Over the distance of almost two hundred years, it is difficult to appreciate the historical significance of the Erie Canal to New York City, New York State, and, in fact to the country as a whole. The Mohawk River Valley, which more or less encompasses the geography between Lake Erie and the Hudson River, is the only flat body of water that crosses what is otherwise the transportation obstacle of the Appalachian Mountain range. The Appalachians, running from Maine to Georgia, served as a barrier to commerce and communications between the eastern and western portions of the early United States (before railroads and the telegraph). When completed, the canal enabled the shipping of commodities from the all over the Midwest to the East, utilizing the Great Lakes, the Ohio River and the Mississippi as feeder routes. At the same time, it permitted manufactured goods to be shipped from the industrial states of the North and the cotton growing states of the South to the growing Western states. At the fulcrum of this commerce was New York City, and its deep and sheltered harbor at the end of the trade route at the mouth of the Hudson River; between east and west, and between the US and Europe as well. It is hard to imagine today, but the rise of the New York City as the financial and commercial center of an empire was nearly entirely originally based on commerce supported by the canal.
The canal was built over about seven years beginning in 1825, in an effort led by Governor DeWitt Clinton. While it used the water and geography of the Mohawk River, much of the canal had to be dug by hand parallel to the shallow, non-navigable river. The canal was a truly amazing accomplishment of human effort – and of engineering. While the canal was used for almost a century, the development of railroad infrastructure came hard on the heels of its completion, with the final leg of what became the New York Central Railroad across New York State finished in 1839. The “Age of the Erie Canal” was short but world shaking.
The canal required 83 locks along its 350-mile route to move freight vertically along its route, in many places enabling the circumnavigation of waterfalls. The vertical drop between the Lake Erie and the Hudson was only about 700 feet. But even more impressive were the 18 aqueducts that were built to cross over other rivers. The idea of building a structure over a river to carry freight loaded barges on water over other bodies of water is hard for the modern imagination to conceive. The longest of these aqueducts went through what became the city of Rochester over the Genesee River.
Innovation Square Building
Over the next 150 years Rochester became the silicon valley of the 19th and early 20th Centuries. Kodak, Bausch & Lomb and Xerox all got their start in Rochester. The huge Gannett newspaper chain was based in Rochester until recently. Rochester, and the region, also played a large role in the abolitionist and women’s suffrage movement. For a large part of his adult life, Frederick Douglass lived in Rochester with his family and published his newspaper “The North Star” there. The level of political and intellectual activity in Rochester and the nearby small Finger Lake towns was truly remarkable (and the number of 19th century-founded institutions of higher education in the region is reflective of that).
The civic and business leadership of Rochester over the many decades took establishing a major metropolis seriously. They created the University of Rochester, Rochester Institute of Technology, and more recently the George Eastman International Museum of Photography and Film. Rochester became an essential part of the US’ art music ecology as the home of the Eastman School of Music (one of the country’s two or three best) and the Rochester Philharmonic.
The RPO is in the second tier of American orchestras by budget size as designated by the League of American Orchestras. Led music director Andreas Delft, however, it plays at a level that matches those of our largest ensembles (his predecessors in that role included Eugene Goosens, Erich Leinsdorf and David Zinman). It plays in Kodak Hall of the Eastman Theater at the Eastman School of Music. Originally built with 3,500 seats, it is a very, very large, high-ceilinged room – although the seating was reduced by 1,200 in 2009. When I stepped into the tremendous mass of space that is Kodak Hall, sitting about halfway back, I was concerned about the sound possibly being hollow and swallowed up. The orchestra, dressed in the now decreasingly used white tie, filled the space with a rich, clear, accomplished sound. I heard a program that included Strauss’ “Till Eulenspiegels lustige Streiche, Op. 28,” Saint-Saen’s “Carnival of the Animals, with duo pianists Christina and Michelle Naughton and Stravinsky’s “Petrushka.” The program was billed as “Orchestral Showpieces,” and that provided a first-time listener a good idea of the group’s musical capacity.
The performances were simply excellent with a warm string resonance and glitch free solos – no small achievement in the Strauss’s exposed wind and horn parts. The Strauss was played in technicolor, with the piece’s humor and theatricality highlighted. The color coordinated and brightly dressed Naughton twins attacked their pianos aggressively, with precise coordination in the “Carnival of the Animals”. So much of this music has worked its way into the heart of the culture and is very familiar, none more so than The Swan movement, beautifully played by principal cellist Ahrim Kim. The soloists’ moments in all three pieces were played with great musicality and skill, but without showy virtuosity. This is an orchestra that clearly enjoys playing together with its music director as an organic ensemble. It was particularly evident in the “Petrushka,” another colorful work with comic moments. “Petrushka” is rhythmically complicated and spare, with much of the exposed orchestral scoring that is so characteristic of Stravinsky’s early music (the piece premiered in 1911). The orchestra made a tight, delightful show of its contrasts of both dark and light moments. I walked out after the concert into downtown Rochester musically contented.
The former headquarters of Gannett Newspapers
Downtown Rochester suffered from the degradations of the now mostly discredited ideas of mid-twentieth century urbanism and design. Its peak population was in the 1950’s, and only in the last decade has the population stopped declining. The downtown is filled with structured parking (and very few parking lots) and has a good number of daunting, tower in the park-like office buildings. The lack of lot parking gives the downtown a feeling of continuity. The city, though, has superficially followed a number of the latest urban trends, with some restored public spaces, scooters and bike lanes (without many people using any of them). Most distressing to me was the empty complex of buildings once occupied by Gannett newspapers in the center of town, before it decamped to a suburban Washington, D.C. office park in 1984 and moved the production of the local paper to another Rochester location in 2016. These are massive art deco and Albert Kahn designed buildings created around now obsolete technologies like the printing press and the typewriter. I am an optimist and have thought that the market will find uses for the post-pandemic half filled, midtown Manhattan, midcentury modern office towers. But walking around the Gannett complex gives one pause about the destructive capacity of modern capitalism and the difficulty of recycling gargantuan 20th century edifices.
Across the street from the Gannett complex, at the foot of what was the aqueduct across the Genesee, is an 80,000 square foot, mixed-use – loft, office, retail – adaptive reuse development in a former mill that may demonstrate what the future of Downtown Rochester could be like. However, in order to get there, Rochester needs to veer away from both obsolete planning doctrine and the superficial trappings of up-to-date urbanism – a bench here, a planter there, public sculpture somewhere else, and dig deep into placemaking practice in order to become a mixed-use, 24 hour downtown. I even saw a sign opposing the formation of a business improvement district – a thirty-year-old concept, the best days of which have passed, particularly in cities of fewer than one million people.
An unused bike lane on the Aqueduct Bridge over the Genesee. The bridge also has nice, unused benches and planters.
Right now, downtown Rochester is a place designed to accommodate people who drive to work in an office building, and drive home to adjacent neighborhoods and suburbs at night. There is a mindset in Rochester that needs to change to make the most of its substantial social infrastructure. The blank walls and lifeless plazas around the downtown’s major office buildings are a challenge. I even saw a sign on steps leading to what appears to be the city’s leading office building prohibiting sitting on the steps up to its plaza! That is exactly WRONG. Property management ought to be encouraging step sitting and working to animate the baren plazas. The city needs to select a promising central location and build a critical mass of activity around that place. Scattered residential loft buildings throughout the downtown aren’t going to build that critical mass of activity. Especially given the lifelessness around the major office towers. The downtown needs sidewalk activity in the form of restaurants with outdoor seating and public spaces programmed with activity like Bryant and Dilworth Parks. The deep cultural resources of the community, like Eastman School and the excellent RPO, can be leveraged to bring vibrancy downtown, particularly at night.
Steps to the plaza of the Metropolitan office tower
Sign next to the steps
The tower
With 100,000 fewer residents than at its peak, Rochester is excellent evidence that we don’t have a housing crisis in the United States and in New York State, but rather we have a lack of great places (and a failure to provide adequate mental health services to our most disadvantaged neighbors). Rochester and its neighbors have capacity. Tens of thousands of people, most recently from Venezuela, want desperately to be in the US. Upstate New York needs those people and their expertise and energy. We need policies that move them from the Southern border to our postindustrial cities. The Erie Canal corridor is a place of great beauty and opportunity. Utica, for example, has been recharged by an influx of Bosnian immigrants. The legacy of the Erie Canal could be more great places across one of New York State’s most naturally stunning locations. More on that when we move on to other Mohawk Valley cities.
The New York City cable television companies at one time paid the City almost $200 million a year. That number is now less than $125 million and rapidly declining as a result of the trend of “wire-cutting,” that is consumers cancelling their cable TV subscriptions and obtaining their programming over the internet. Significantly, that internet programming is delivered over the same fiber optic or coaxial cable as the cable signal, but the City receives no revenue from the provision of broadband service by cable companies to consumers.
I remember when cable television came to my hometown, West Orange, New Jersey in the 1960’s. As we lived on the side of the first hill to the west of New York City, with line-of-site to New York City’s broadcast stations antennae on the Empire State Building and in the New Jersey Meadowlands, we got pretty good reception. But, Suburban Cablevision promised the residents of West Orange better picture quality, franchise fee payments to the town for the use of its right-of-way for the stringing of the cables on utility poles in town and a much ballyhooed public access television channel for broadcasting town council meetings, educational programming and other local amazements.
Cable TV initially came to New York City at about the same time and came into its own in the late 1980’s when Time Warner was created as the successor to early market entrants. As in West Orange, TWC (Time Warner Cable) agreed to pay the City a franchise fee, to provide universal service to Manhattan, brownstone Brooklyn, Staten Island and Queens and to create public access channels for each of those three boroughs. Later, the City obtained from TWC free access for to cable infrastructure for its own telecommunications and internet access needs.
From its inception, TWC was led by Richard Aurelio, a former Deputy Mayor in the Lindsey Administration, who saw the company’s cable franchise as a public trust and created NY1 News, as a provider as 24/7 local news coverage – much like the then-recently established and highly successful Cable News Network from Ted Turner’s Turner Networks (later also acquired by Time Warner). Therefore, the negotiations between the City and TWC, while spirited and arms-length, were something of a friendly arrangement. The City’s cable franchise negotiations were led from the creation of the franchise by Bruce Regal, a college friend of mine. As a result of this experience, Bruce was for decades the City’s telecommunications expert – and a nationally recognized authority on the municipal regulation of telecommunications.
Cable television regulations is a hybrid of Federal, state and local regulation, with the Federal Government’s role, under the Cable Communications Policy Act of 1984 (47 U.S.C. ch. 5, subch. V-A), predominant. The Cable Act sets as a maximum franchise fee from a cable provider to the local municipal government 5% of gross revenues from cable television services. The Cable Act also requires cable companies to capitalize and support public access channels for municipalities, and to provide such other services as are mutually agreed to between the provider and the city. Operating support for the public access channels is based on a per subscriber payment negotiated between the cable company and the municipality.
Later, Cablevision, the Long Island cable provider (a predecessor of which was an early cable provider in Manhattan), and an owner of a number of significant content providers, successfully sought a franchise for the Bronx and Brooklyn. Cable TV service was seen as a natural monopoly because the large capital investment involved – and therefore only one cable company could be profitable in any geographic area. Cable companies were given an exclusive franchise in consideration for providing universal service (as well as the other statutory benefits). Under the Cable Act, interestingly, states and municipalities were not given the authority to regulate cable prices, unlike the decades long regulation of telephone pricing by the states of the American Telephone and Telephone Company and its Bell System affiliates (like, in New York City, New York Telephone, later Bell Atlantic, then NYNEX, and ultimately Verizon). It was the City’s position that breaking up service among two providers, with exclusive geographic service would create a certain kind of competition and provide the City with multiple options, in the event of the failure or monopolistic behavior by one of the franchisees.
As I discussed in my last post, in the 2000’s Verizon sought and received a franchise for the entire city, providing another degree of competition in service (although a recent study by students at Columbia University concluded not significant price competition).
It is worth noting that when I was the City’s telecommunications franchise administrator, we approached Comcast, one of the country’s largest cable providers (as well as the owner of NBC Universal) about entering the New York City market in order to provide an additional market participant. A senior Comcast executive told me that while Comcast was interested in purchasing TWC, at the time it was sold to Charter Communications, it was not interested in being a fourth player in New York City under any set of regulatory or technological circumstances (for example sharing existing fiber optic cable, so as to drastically reduce the required capital investment) however favorable.
It should also be noted that Charter’s (the successor to TWC) business model, while highly favorable to its investors, is probably not in the best interest of New York City cable customers. Charter is in the business of generating a maximum amount of revenue with the minimum amount of expense from its New York City franchise, and is very good at it. It is not significantly upgrading its infrastructure to fiber to the home, instead relying on its legacy coaxial cable-based system. It has broken the union representing its field employees by hiring non-union contractors to maintain its infrastructure and in-home customer service. At the same time, it controls Spectrum NY1, which has become an essential source of local coverage, where it has also alleged to be an abusive employer by older, female on-air staff. Charter could turn out the lights at NY1 on a whim.
Each borough of New York City has a public access cable programming provider, set up as an independent not-for-profit corporation, the board of directors of which is appointed by each borough president. As result, channels have become creatures of the borough presidents, who have become among their most prominent supporters. As of 2021, the combined budgets of the public access channels were over $30 million, paid for by the cable companies. Each of the channels, except, perhaps, for BRIC, the Brooklyn channels, has become something a sinecure for its executives, for a service that very few New Yorkers watch or know about.
At one time, the public access channels, particularly Manhattan Neighborhood Networks, were seen as quirky vehicles of free speech, allowing just about anyone access to the “airwaves.” MNN had its own star in Robin Byrd who as I recall from my youth, who had a talk show where she interviewed guests in a crocheted string bikini. The public access channels claim that they train New Yorkers in video production, provide an alternative news and programming outlet, as well as video coverage of borough events – particularly those sponsored by the borough presidents. Unfortunately, none of the channels has data about how many people watch them – and likely very few people do. In addition, given today’s technology, public access television is at least equally accessible via the internet, and the use of the still valuable cable channels for their programming is not very important or useful, particularly given the lack of viewership data.
The channels have become minor fiefdoms. MNN has a wonderful, state-of-the-art, but underused facility on East 104thStreet in a former firehouse. The Bronx channels have been aggressive in advocating for an upgrade of all of its signals to High-Definition quality. BRIC, also has an excellent facility in downtown Brooklyn. However, BRIC’s studios, unlike those in the other boroughs, are a beehive of activity, as BRIC has used the payments it receives from the cable companies to broaden its reach to being a community-based arts organization with youth programs and visual and performing arts presentations.
The cable franchise paradigm, which provided cable programming to New Yorkers for several decades, is breaking down,as a result of wire-cutting, and the migration of cable customers to the internet. Most significantly, the Cable Act does not allow municipalities to charge franchise fees against cable companies’ broadband businesses, so as dollars from consumers switch from cable to internet, the City’s franchise fees decline. That $200 million has been reduced to about $120 million and is declining rapidly. Similarly, funds for the public access channels, levied on a per-subscriber basis, are also being reduced with the decline in subscriber numbers. Worse yet for the municipal coffers, during the Trump Administration, the Federal Communications Commission, which implements the Cable Act, led at the time by the former chief lobbyist for Verizon, used its rulemaking as wish fulfillment for the telecommunications industry under the banner of incentivizing increased private investment in telecommunications infrastructure. The FCC adopted a rule that made the value of the operating income provided by cable companies to the public access channels, as well as the dollar value of all non-cash benefits provided by the cable companies to municipalities as a credit against the 5% franchise fee cap with very few exceptions – potentially further reducing franchise fee income. This ruling has been upheld by the courts, but in New York City, the cable companies have not yet moved to implement it.
All of New York City’s cable franchise agreements with Charter and Altice (the successor to Cablevision) expired in 2020 and are now operating by automatic annual extensions, and Verizon’s agreement expires in 2023. There is little doubt that if and when those agreements are renegotiated, the already declining benefits from the cable companies to the City, in the absence of aggressive changes by the FCC, will be slashed. The City’s capacity in any negotiation has been seriously compromised by Bruce Regal’s untimely passing in 2016 and the retirement of one of its other senior telecommunications attorneys. The most recent two General Counsels at the recently renamed Office of Technology and Innovation are the first ones in the agency’s history without significant prior telecommunications expertise.
Where does that leave the City? Not in a very good place with respect to the regulation of cable television and the provision of internet service. Certainly, it should be a high priority of the City’s Washington, D.C. lobbying office, to lobby the FCC to reverse out of the rule-making favorable to industry adopted during the Trump Administration, and to go further to the maximum extent permitted under the Cable Act to impose franchise fees on internet service providers.
One of the challenges in the area of technology regulation – as we have seen with Facebook and Google – is the inability of Congress to adopt legislation that keeps up with technological changes. This is a problem as much for the telecommunications industry as it is for states, municipalities and consumers. While this regulatory lag is true under the best of circumstances, with a factious, divided Congress and a newly ascendent Supreme Court working to limit the power of administrative agencies, it has made the situation for all practical purposes impossible. The Cable Act has not been substantially revised since 1984 and is seriously antiquated and difficult to apply to current technologies. This is all equally true with respect to municipal regulation of mobile telecommunications (cell phone service), which I hope to write about shortly. But New York City should be in the forefront of looking for opportunities to revise and update the Federal telecommunications regulatory framework.
In the absence of changes at the Federal level, the City will have to be incredibly aggressive and smart in order to maximize what little leverage it has with the cable companies. While the City has an excellent two person staff to “audit” the cable companies, it should engage outside auditors to review cable company payments for as far back as the regulatory scheme and franchise agreements allowed. Audit firms are prepared to provide these services, in exchange for a percentage of any amounts they might recover from the cable providers. This is a no risk, high return proposition for the City, that is likely to reap tens of millions of dollars in cash, while sending a signal to the providers that there is a new sheriff in town that means business. But at the same time, the City is smart not to begin negotiations with the cable companies to enter into new franchise agreements, because under current circumstances any new agreements can only be on terms inferior to those of the expired agreements which are now being operated under by extension.
The issue of the public access channels will also need to be seriously addressed. They continue to advocate for increased resources, in a declining revenue environment. Any such increase in resources will have to come from the City budget, particularly given the current situation with FCC rules. With the exception of BRIC, any such increase would be hard to justify without hard evidence of a significant number of viewers that the public access channels might be reaching, and a thorough examination of the governance of the channel operators ([MNN was recent the subject of a Supreme Court decision regarding the first amendment rights of public access programming producers that arose out of the chaotic situation arising out of a fist fight between a disgruntled producer and MNN leadership at an MNN public meeting some years ago (Manhattan Community Access Corp. V. Halleck, 882 F. 3d 300 (2019).)].
In an ideal world, the City would be deriving increased resources from the utilization of its rights of way by the cable company/internet service providers for their cables; it should be able to encourage new entrants into the cable/ISP market utilizing the city’s extensively overbuilt fiber optic network in order to drive down prices; work to make sure that all ISP customers are obtaining the highest quality service from fiber to the home networks; and that all of the city’s low income customers take advantage of the Federal subsidies available to buy down cable and broadband prices to $15 per month.
If you want to learn about best practices in downtown revitalization, you couldn’t do better than to just walk around Cincinnati. They seem to do most things right there. I hadn’t intended to write again about the Queen City, as my most recent trip was a quick overnight one, but the continued marked apparent improvement in economic conditions there merits notice. Both the downtown commercial center and the adjacent Over-the-Rhine neighborhood continue to expand their blocks of economic vitality. More blocks seem to have new stores, new adaptative reuses of structures with high quality vernacular architecture and new residential construction and conversion.
Residential new construction on Vine Street
Cincinnati and Des Moines are actually comparatively sized cities. Cincinnati has a population of about 300,000. But its metro is substantially larger, at 2.5 million, the 30th in the country. Interestingly, while Des Moines is about at its peak population, Cincinnati is considerably smaller than its population of 500,000 in 1960. Cincinnati is 42% Black. While the Black population is only 12% of the metro.
The strength of Cincinnati Center City Development Corporation (3CDC) sets Cincinnati apart. 3CDC strikes me as the most aggressive and effective organization of its kind in country. Up until recently, 3CDC kept a low profile – but on this recent trip their brand was all over its many properties – on parking lots it operates, on empty storefronts it leases and on parcels it is seeking to develop. The thing that differentiates 3CDC from its peers is its balance sheet. Based on 2019 data, it has gross assets of over $400 million, debt of a little less than $400 million and an annual operating budget of about $20 million. That is a scale of operations and a leveraging of resources that is unmatched. 3CDC purchases property using debt financing. It repositions those properties though adaptive reuse and it carefully curates their occupants. Vine Street in Over-the-Rhine is the most dramatic and fastest commercial corridor revitalization case study of which I am aware. Vine Street and Main Street in Over-the-Rhine are now lined with interesting looking shops, bars and restaurants. A key component of their capital stack is an internally operated low-interest revolving loan fund.
Downtown Cincinnati shows similar attributes of growth. We stayed in the 21CMuseum Hotel – part of a Kentucky-based chain (https://www.21cmuseumhotels.com). The facility was the reuse of an office structure into over 300 rooms (beautifully designed by Yale architecture dean, Deborah Berke). The hotel displays an extensive art collection, focused on Black artists. As you walk into the lobby, your experience is flooded by the image of Morpheus by Kahinde Wiley from 2008 at 108 by 180 inches (https://www.21cmuseumhotels.com/cincinnati/blog/2020/morpheus-by-kehinde-wiley/), which is behind the front desk. This is not art by the yard. Our stay was very impressive. Downtown Cincinnati has more street level retail, bars and restaurants than most other mid-western cities (although the retail on many block is far from continuous). There are very few totally blank block fronts. Downtown is connected to Over-the-Rhine by a tram, which is free and runs every ten minutes or so (not quite enough, but close to it). Unlike many other such projects, it appears to be well-used.
(I also note that we had breakfasts in both St. Louis and Cincinnati in First Watch restaurants, a chain that has almost 500 locations, with which I was previously unfamiliar. The quality of food and service in both places was superb. Quite remarkable for such a large chain.)
Too many economic development entities are ineffective because their boards are averse to property ownership, operation and debt financing. Those organizations are resigning themselves to unsuccessfulness – particularly in today’s real estate environment where downtowns need more than “clean and safe.” Downtown revitalization requires risk taking and rolling up your sleeves and getting your hands dirty in real estate brokerage and construction. Downtown economic development organizations need to be in the business of revenue generation (through parking, if nothing else) and leading the real estate market with high quality repositioning of derelict property. Nothing else works as well. The 3CDC financial statement is a lesson in itself in how to do this.
I know nothing of the politics of 3CDC, or how it is viewed in the community. I also don’t know anything about its community engagement practices. While those things are important, the results speak for themselves. Cincinnati’s quality of life is better as a result of 3CDC’s work. I would like to see an income distribution chart for Black families in the city and metro for 2000 and 2020. If 3CDC’s efforts are not bringing substantial benefit to the city’s least well off, then that’s a problem. I noticed a considerable amount of residential new construction in Over-the-Rhine. 3CDC has developed 416 affordable units, with 70% of them designated as affordable. Given where Cincinnati now is, and 3CDC’s financial strength and expertise, if they were to ask me (which they haven’t), I would advise that they focus their efforts on mixed income (with no more than 30% of residents below 50% of AMI), mixed-use projects as a means to improve the circumstances of the worst well off and improve the quality of the local public schools.
The view up Vine Street
***
Our trip to Cincinnati was to see the world premiere of “Castor and Patience,” at the Cincinnati Opera, with music by Gregory Spears and libretto by Tracy K. Smith. Spears is the composer of the highly successful “Fellow Travelers,” also premiered in Cincinnati, and Smith is a Princeton professor, former poet laureate of the United States and a Pulitzer Prize winner. It is my practice not to discuss the musical or dramatic aspects of the operas I hear, since that’s not my department (“Once the rockets are up, who cares where they come down? That’s not my department!” says Wernher von Braun”. Heidi’s review will be found here: andymanshel.nyc), the theme of the opera was of particular interest to me.
The opera is about an inter-racial family from Buffalo, New York, who, during the home mortgage debacle of 2008, are in danger of losing their house. They travel to an island off the coast of the Southeast where the family’s father (Castor) grew up, and where he and his cousin (Patience) (both Black) own thirty acres, which are valued in the story at over $20 million.) Patience sees her role as protecting the family’s legacy in the property – highlighting the importance and rarity of property ownership to Black folks. She is opposed to selling even one acre of the twenty – which would eliminate the father’s debt problems.
This story interested me because as a real estate lawyer I have always advised clients that the first rule of success in real estate is to never develop an emotional attachment to a parcel. Also, in the 00’s I joined the Queens County Bar Association’s Volunteer Lawyer’s Project representing families in foreclosure. The membership of the Queens County Bar pledged to represent, on a pro bono basis, any Queens family during conferences with the Court’s Special Master dealing with foreclosures in Queens. This project was so successful that ultimately families were represented by highly skilled, full-time staff from the project with extensive experience with foreclosure, rather than by the pro bono volunteers.
I represented more than a half dozen families over the course of five or six years – all of them were eager/desperate to remain in their homes despite the fact that the houses were worth less than their mortgages. My clients’ best economic move would certainly have been to walk away from their homes. While staying was not necessarily a canny business decision, ultimately all were able to remain in their homes with monthly payments well within their means. The actual facts of these cases were very different from the prevailing narrative regarding the “mortgage crisis” that began in 2008, and that narrative underlies the story line of “Castor and Patience.” Southeast Queens, New York, generally regarded as the Jamaica neighborhoods, is one of the largest communities of Black homeowners in the United States. I was told that in the 2010 census, Queens was the only county in the country where African American household income exceeded that of white households.
My clients ran the gamut from a family on public assistance to a barber to a laid off nursing assistant. All had refinanced their homes in order to generate cash – all of which they had spent or lost. In some cases, the refinancing produced upfront lower monthly payments which later either ballooned or reset to a high variable interest rate. All of their homes market values were substantially less than (generally 2/3) than the principal of the mortgage on them. In almost every case, a local mortgage broker – someone they knew from the community – had sold them on the refinancing. None of those mortgage brokers were anywhere to be found by the time the families came to me. In one case, I believe the mortgage broker stole most of the cash generated by the refinance – taking advantage of the borrower’s lack of financial sophistication.
The most obvious thing to me as an attorney representing these families was that the banks and mortgage servicers were in chaos. Their attorneys would show up in court with a list of properties on the docket for that day. Most were unprepared. None had the supporting documentation required to sustain their claims – much of which had been lost in the shuffling between the mortgage originators, the creators of the collateral debt obligations (CDO), the buyers of the CDO’s and the servicers which were on the front lines doing the administrative work for the holders of the CDO’s. Also, the Courts were loath to kick people out of their homes – and made every appropriate effort to protect homeowners’ rights. It was easy for me to throw sand in the gears of the process to keep people in their homes. It was much more difficult to actually work out payment arrangements which would be manageable by my clients.
A home in Southeast Queens — not one of my clients’. Just an example.
It is important to know that while these properties were in foreclosures, their owners continued to live in them and weren’t paying any occupancy costs – not mortgage, not insurance and not taxes. The CDO holders were on the hook for all of these and were adding them to the borrowers’ principal. My clients dealt with this situation in different ways. My lowest income clients took two trips to Disney with their grandchildren during my representation of them. Another of my clients took the opportunity of six years of essentially free housing to get a BA in nursing – and ultimately secured a near six figure entry level hospital job.
The Obama administration had set up a program called the Home Affordable Mortgage Program (HAMP), which, at the time, none of the mortgage servers knew much about accessing. This lack of knowledge (or interest) served to prolong the foreclosure process. It was in the mortgage servicers’ interest to keep the process going – as fees were generated by each Court appearance and each action taken by the servicer – charged to the holders of the CDOs. It was not in the financial interest of the servicer or the CDO holders to bring the matters to closure. An actual foreclosure or settlement would almost always result in the banks having to immediately book a loss, which was definitely not in their interest.
At one point, I got the quasi-governmental agency that has a guarantor’s interest in most home mortgages involved in order to bring my cases to settlement (they have the ultimate authority to approve mortgage restructurings). All of my clients stayed in their homes and got monthly payments they could live with. The downside for all of them was that the restructured payments, the defaulted amounts, deferred interest and penalties were all added to the value of the principal – which, in practical terms, meant the principal would never be paid down. When the owners passed away, the CDO holder would be left with an underwater property, which it would sell and then book the loss – hopefully many years in the future. This was the ultimate in kicking a can down the road. So, at the end of the day the holders of the CDOs were left holding the bag.
This wasn’t the story of “Castor and Patience,” and it would make a pretty terrible, long, complicated, boring theater piece. But it is what happened in my experience, and probably what happened with the majority of people caught up with homes with deflated values and defaulted, inflated mortgages. In the real world, if Castor has adequate legal counsel in Buffalo, he probably could have held on to his home. Better yet, Castor and Patience could have obtained a small debt consolidation loan (at very low interest rates during the turmoil in the markets), using the island property as security, to eliminate Castor’s financial problems. While that alternate story isn’t particularly important to the opera audience, it is important to how we understand home ownership and race in America.
We stayed at a hipsterish hotel in Des Moines, Iowa (The Surety) that had an excellent restaurant (The Mulberry Street Tavern). The hotel lobby had a pool table and the room mini-bar offered condoms. As we drove from the airport in Cedar Rapids to Des Moines (we missed our connections in both directions at Charlotte and had to scramble), we drove passed scores of wind turbines. We were there for Heidi to cover the opera (https://andymanshel.nyc/2022/07/13/review-arias-over-the-fields-at-des-moines-metro-opera/), which I don’t usually independently comment on, but which was excellent. The “Porgy and Bess” was the best of my experience, and the production values of each of the two shows I thought were higher than any of the other summer festivals (Santa Fe, Glimmerglass, Opera Theater of Saint Louis). Despite the conventional wisdom, there is a progressive, sophisticated national culture, which has reached deeply into the medium sized cities of the mid-West. This is a non-trivial change.
As a child in the sixties, I can recall our annual trips by car to French Lick, Indiana for a business conference that my father attended. We stayed in some pretty dismal motels along the way and ate some pretty awful food in local greasy spoons. The food at the fancy resort where the conference was held was of the mid-century modern American sort – a silver colored bucket with ice and raw vegetables on the table when we arrived and well-done roast beef as the signature menu item. We’ve come a long way from that. Food culture is everywhere. Social media spreads trends and fads like lightening. Almost anything can be delivered by UPS and Fed Ex – from bagels and pastrami to esoteric books and high design furniture. You don’t have to drive to the nearest university town to see art house movies – they’re on Netflix and Amazon Prime – or you can subscribe to what seem to be dozens of more specialized services like Sundance and BBC America to get even more exotic fare.
Des Moines is a city of about 200,000, in a metro of about 400,000. It has long been a center of the insurance industry and its largest private sector employers are Wells Fargo and Principal Financial. It has only a half dozen office towers of more than 20 floors, the tallest of which is the Principal HQ at 45 stories. Many of the downtown buildings are high quality art deco/city beautiful buildings of less than 20 storeys. The post war period, as in so many places, was not as architecturally kind to Des Moines as prior decades, but most of those buildings are mid-rise. The downtown streets and sidewalks are wide, and there isn’t much street level retail and there are many, many parking structures. There is a large, active farmers’ market in the downtown on Saturdays. The downtown’s scale feels more human than Kansas City, because there are fewer tall buildings and there are wider streets. There also seem to be more downtown restaurants. But there still isn’t much pedestrian activity (other than the farmers’ market). The main arteries leading into downtown are lined with the usual low to medium income retailers and fast food brands.
Des Moines is the Iowa state capital, with an impressive capital building that unusually has five domes. The capital sits on a hill overlooking the city that has a large collection of public sculpture, the most impressive of which is a civil war monument. In the chaos of today’s political order it is easy to forget Iowa’s important place in American history as a free state, with John Brown having used Iowa as a base for his anti-slavery campaign of 1856-1859. While Barak Obama won Iowa in 2012, Donald Trump took the state by 9% in both 2016 and 2020. Iowa’s current senators are Republicans Charles Grassley and Joni Ernst. Their predecessors were Democrats Tom Harkin and John Culver. Des Moines is 15% Black. The state is 4% Black. It is certainly interesting to contemplate Iowa’s place in the national culture. This is a place with a sophisticated history, including one of the country’s great state universities, particularly known on the coasts for its writing program. Retired, 40-year U.S. Navy veteran and former Rear Admiral Mike Franken is running against the 88-year-old Grassley this year as a Democrat and has turned up on my social media feeds. He seems impressive, and some polls have put him within striking distance. But Grassley is a formidable opponent with a very high profile. If Franken were to get any traction in the wake of the Supreme Court’s hard right turn, that would be a big deal.
The local airport is small, and most of the flights are to midwest hubs, Minneapolis, Chicago and Saint Louis. I also noticed a direct flight on a small airline to New York, and other flights to Phoenix (a Southwest hub) and Charlotte (an American hub). The airports in Cedar Rapids (even smaller) and Omaha are driving distance – providing more options. We found it difficult to get to from New York. I didn’t notice any flights to Los Angeles or San Francisco. But who needs the coasts, really?
I suspect Iowans know how good they have it. The state’s mean family income is about $80,000. I would conjecture that if a Phillips curve (demonstrating income distribution) were drawn for Iowa, it would be pretty flat. Des Moines seems to have adopted a lot of the best of the urban renaissance of the 90’s – with restaurants, a market and quite a few downtown loft conversions. The weather was pretty intensely hot while we were there. But life there seems excellent – with lots of amenities for a small city (this listing caught my eye: https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/10307-Grimes-St-Indianola-IA-50125/87084714_zpid/. $540,000 for 4 acres and a pool). I would go on to speculate that the most important vector moving Iowa’s political needle is Iowans wanting to preserve what they have – and isn’t that the very definition of conservatism.
The first class of Urban Park Rangers, with Mayor Koch and Gordon Davis at the center. In the lower right, with the tie, is my friend, neighbor, collaborator and future Parks Commissioner Adrian Benepe.
“New York, New York, New York; Four Decades of Succuss, Excess, and Transformation” Thomas Dyja (Simon & Schuster, 2021)
The great goal of social science is to amass large amounts of data relating to a social phenomenon, and then organize and synthesize that data in order to explain how that phenomenon works – essentially separating the out the signal from the noise. In “New York, New York, New York; Four Decades of Succuss, Excess, and Transformation,” Thomas Dyja sets out for himself that extremely high bar. He pulls together an overwhelming amount of information about the governance and culture of New York City from 1978 to the present and attempts to tease out what actually happened. It is nearly impossible to believe that one author could accumulate and one mind could retain and come to an understanding such an avalanche of facts. In telling this story, he succeeds beyond any reasonable expectation.
I came to New York in 1978 and have lived here continuously ever since. I began working in the public sphere in 1991. So, in a very material sense, this is my (along with a great many other peoples’) story. I was in, or near, the room where some of the stuff he describes happened. I worked with or knew a significant double-digit percentage of the people he talks about. I generally come out where he does in his broadest conclusions, but as is absolutely inevitable in the blizzard of information Dyja has digested, some of the “facts” and figures he cites either are incorrect or can’t be right (There have never been 50,000 people sleeping on the streets of New York. There have been 50,000 people receiving services for the homeless from the City – mostly living in shelters, most of them families – and not the single adult men who most New Yorkers have in mind when they think of the homeless. While he cite’s Kaiser’s The Gay Metropolis, can it be true that 50% of gay baby boomers died of AIDs?). Dyja also accepts as true a number of the basic assumptions that constitute the conventional wisdom regarding public policy in the city over the last forty years, some of which are just aren’t true or are gross over simplifications (gentrification leads to displacement, homelessness is caused by lack of housing). But, certainly, Dyja’s heart is in the right place, and he is willing to call “bullshit” on a good many self-serving and false claims. I certainly can’t argue with his placing our work on the Bryant Park restoration, and the thinkers we relied on like Holly Whyte and George Kelling, at the dead center of his epic.
The book relies on press reports and interviews with high profile players for much of its factual foundation. Unfortunately, the New York press often gets the details of local coverage wrong (and more than occasionally gets the entire story wrong), taking the press releases of public officials at face value – and while newspaper reporting may be the first draft of history, it constitutes an unreliable basis on which to write its later versions when it comes to New York City government. It has also been my experience that folks in public life in New York tend to gild their lilies – they take credit for stuff they didn’t do and they seem to remember that positive results they stumbled into were things they planned. Relying on those sources without questioning them will lead to false positives. But when bringing together so many stories, checking them all out would be a lot to ask.
The book’s great accomplishment is to highlight the policies of the Koch administration that laid the groundwork for New York’s revitalization (particularly in housing and public space) that continues through today, and the cadre of smart, effective professionals that Koch attracted to government the like of which has not been seen since (unfortunately). My personal recollection of third term Ed Koch was of a bullying narcissist. As the New York Times recently reported on at length, Koch remained in the closest during the AIDs crisis and actively worked to cover his personal tracks. Koch also deployed racially inflammatory rhetoric, amping up the city’s most debilitating division. To put it mildly, he consciously failed to attempt to understand, and even dismissed, the concerns of New York City’s large Black community. But, at the end of the day that didn’t drive Koch Administration policy, which, using clever financing mechanisms, built tens of thousands of new affordable housing units (which over decades ultimately became hundreds of thousands), transforming the city’s most neglected, abandoned and disinvested neighborhoods into desirable places. And speaking of places, Parks Commissioner Gordon Davis thought up the idea of private non-profit entities to secure resources for and improve the management of parks – leading to the restoration of Central, Bryant (in which I was directly involved) and Prospect Parks. I am convinced that those two programs, in housing and parks, were the key elements that changed the perception of cities and sparked the return to urban centers across the country – a force so powerful that it has continued through 9/11, the financial turbulence of 2008, hurricane Sandy and the COVID-19 pandemic.
Dyja’s writing about 9/11 is particularly beautiful; capturing the moment perfectly. He avoids the solipsism and self pity that infects so many other attempts to describe that horrific day. It was a primary election day, on which I was working the polls for mayoral candidate Mark Green in the northeast Bronx. I ended up in a four hour walk to the Upper West Side, with a non-functional transit system, limited information and an inability to get through to home on the phone. All along the walk home I had a view of smoke rising from lower Manhattan as I moved south. When I got home and turned on the television, the video of the time between the planes’ flying into the buildings and their collapse was the worst thing I have experienced before or since. Dyja bravely and frankly identifies the forces that made the return to normal at the former World Trade Center site impossible and that have left us with a permanent, disheartening gash in New York’s side (which will never be remedied), and a collection of inhumanely scaled towers.
It was interesting to read of the yin and yang during the Bloomberg Administration of Amanda Burden and Dan Doctoroff, which I didn’t understand at the time, while I was toiling ten miles away from City Hall in the neighborhood development fields of Jamaica, Queens: Burden having worked for William H. (Holly) Whyte, the advocate for small scale urbanism and close observation, and Doctoroff being the purveyor of grand plans (like the failed New York Olympics) and big ideas (like the failed Hudson Yards). The bastard child of this dynamic is the hugely popular tourist attraction of the High Line, which isn’t really a successful public space (because it is mostly a place to walk through, rather than linger in) but has been a powerful engine for real estate development along its flanks, and a model for similar projects across the country.
There is a lot in the book about the commercial worlds of hip hop and the art market, which may be useful scene setting – but about which I, personally, don’t very much care and think aren’t particularly culturally important. The New York of the late 1970’s and early-to-mid 1980’s may have been one of urban decline, but it was also a uniquely yeasty and important era for high culture here – particularly in music and dance. To me, it would have been much better to use the work of people like Phillip Glass, Steve Reich, Trisha Brown and Twyla Tharp as the cultural yard stick against which to measure changes in the city over the period. The transformation of Carnegie Hall from an overheated place where paint chips fell from the ceiling on to your head during classical concerts to the glamourous outpost of European high culture fostered by Sandy Weill is a story worth telling. The book has no mention of other cultural innovators like Stephanie French. But, Dyja wrote his book, not mine.
On the homelessness front, Dyja only briefly quotes Rosanne Haggerty, my social entrepreneurial heroine, and instead relies on testimony from the crafty, sly fox of the unhoused, Bob Hayes. I would like to know more about the Haggerty’s departure from the path-breaking Common Ground and that organization’s transformation into Breaking Ground, now a central institution in what Haggerty calls the homeless/industrial complex. The current state of services for the homeless in New York is the result of bad data, misinformation and worse public policy, which Dyja doesn’t clearly explain.
Oddly, NY x 3, provides more detail and moves more slowly through the early Koch years and accelerates the narrative pace during DeBlasio Administration. It’s the opposite of how history is usually recounted – with the past receding and the present in the forefront. As a result, the beginning of the book is a rewarding slog, and the end of the book feels rushed and less detailed. There is a great deal about David Rockefeller (Chase) and Walter Wriston (Citi), but nothing about Jamie Dimon (Chase) and Dick Parsons (Citi) (another one of my heroes). That, notwithstanding, Dyja provides the most telling analysis of the eight years of DeBlasio’s mayoralty of which I am aware; which is impressive, given that we’re it is only months behind us. While I was a middling official in City government during DeBlasio’s last four years, I wasn’t sure of what was hitting me. I was a believer in DeBlasio’s attempts to improve the situation of the city’s worst well off, but was mystified by the chaos, lack of direction and just plain bad decision making that seemed to be trickling down from above. Dyja sympathetically explains DeBlasio’s lack of managerial skills, diffidence and indecisiveness.
Typical of the kind of small inaccuracies that creep into daily journalism, I was counsel to all three BIDs. Taken by the Times at a City Council hearing in 1996.
The book made me long for the New York of my youth. Not because the era was more fun or interesting, but because City government during the 80’s effectively implemented policies that made a difference – and the Mayor and Deputy Mayors (like Ken Lipper, Nat Leventhal and John Zuccotti) backing up risked taking innovative managers like Gordon Davis at Parks and Paul Crotty at Housing. What we are now left with is a sclerotic, risk averse local government that is strangled by its outdated, dysfunctional personnel, legal and contracting procedures. What we have inherited is ineffectual public administration by press release. I was privileged to be a part of the private sector effectiveness of New York’s largest business improvement districts, which Dyja also focuses on (although, in a small detail that perhaps only matters to me, he glancingly misses why Rudy Giuliani had Dan Biederman and me fired from Grand Central Partnership). So, I don’t really have much to complain about on that score.
The book’s epigraph is a quote from the wonderful and underappreciated Whyte, whom I also knew and tremendously admired. Whyte was the father or godfather of Bryant Park. Perhaps Dyja’s recognition of Holly, whom he cites through out the book, and Richard Rein’s revelatory recent biography, will give Holly his day. As Deja makes clear, Holly Whyte has given us the tools to create create great urban places. I, for one, will ever be grateful to Dyja for his superhuman research and telling this story with so much elan and passion. I’m assigning New York, New York, New York to my children, who take a safe and vibrant New York City for granted, so that they can get something of a feel for what Dad was doing while they were growing up.
