A number of the old photos I’ve been picking at here in the last few weeks have been construction shots, taken at intervals to show progress of the work. Today’s trio doesn’t break any new ground, but is a good example of what you can pick up from them. Above, 530 West 86th Street as it appeared when first completed in 1928. The “530” tells us the building is east of Avenue A (logically, Zeroth Avenue, one block east of First, and this portion was renamed that same year to York Avenue), which was at that time relatively new ground for a high-rise high-end apartment house. This is one of the famous “pre-wars,” generally considered to be the best apartments in the city, when it was new. Note that the buildings adjacent to it are legally Old-Law tenements but somewhat better designed than average for type.
Based solely on the age and the fact that it’s fifteen stories, I know this is a steel-frame building, but there are always people who like proof. Here’s a shot somewhat earlier, looking at the reverse angle:
The sidewalk bridge looks almost modern, and has a sign telling us that the George Fuller Company was the general contractor. Fuller was a leading builder at the time, and the Flatiron Building was officially the Fuller Building, as it had been built as the corporate headquarters. The sign that really caught my eye is on the tenement next door: “ADJOINING THIS SITE VINCENT ASTOR IS BUILDING A 15-STORY APARTMENT HOUSE.” I guess celebrity sells real estate.
The top four levels of steel are bare, which might be a sign of scheduling difficulty or, more likely, is simply a physical manifestation of how much faster you can erect steel than build wood formwork to cast concrete floors. In modern steel buildings, we use metal deck as both form and primary reinforcing for the slabs and we use spray-on fireproofing; in 1928, carpenters had to build formwork around each beam for encasement and below each panel of slab, then lathers added the wire-mesh reinforcement. The steel was probably erected at a speed of something like a floor every couple of days, and there’s no way the carpenters could match that. Finally, a picture taken between the two previous ones:
If this was a modern site, I’d assume that those wood-and-canvas-enclosed towers were personnel or materials lifts, but I can’t imagine that’s what they were in 1928. Most likely, they’re designated stair towers for the laborers, to keep them clear of the interior stairs as they were built. But it’s a mystery.
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