The Great and the Good

New York City has the best of everything. Except buildings. Here, block by block and despite the antic charm of its skyline when seen from a great distance, New York punches pathetically below its weight, especially in comparison to its little neighbors Boston and Philadelphia, which give us Bullfinch, Sert, Cobb, Kahn, Pei, Gropius, Rudolph, Richardson, Sullivan, and the work of all their students and schools plus the extraordinary vernaculars that were spared conflagration or avaricious demolition—all in casual abundance. The greatest city in the world, on the other hand, is mostly tenements and Hudson Yards and Duane Reades.

Here, on the rare occasions when we do achieve skillful and hospitable architecture, especially in the public realm, it happens in one of two ways. First, there is the splendid but narrow way achieved by would-be-Vasaris seeking their Medicis, artful designers who by a vicious species of talent and courtiership are able to provide a building grand enough to flatter those clients but also good enough to serve the city and its people—Mies van de…