Skip to main content

From the Architectural Archives: Skyscraper Airship Docks

Maybe this will turn into a series - I can't tell yet.  Just pretend this is the first installment of a series of posts on historical architectural curiosities.

Justin asked me the other night if it was true that the Empire State Building was built with the intent of mooring zeppelins (German airships, which themselves have a fascinating history) to its mast.  I thought I had recalled hearing this tidbit myself, and had to investigate.  Turns out the answer is a somewhat qualified yes!  The New York Times describes some of the history of this architectural quirk, along with great photocollages of the intended result.  Apparently, the skyscraper's spire was given additional height during the construction process, which the building developers claimed was to give it the advantage of a landing platform for dirigible traffic.  The real goal seems to have been to achieve the extra height needed to surpass the Chrysler Building.  Evidently the whole dirigible-landing-platform idea wasn't given much engineering forethought, as no airship was ever able to dock there successfully, due to the high winds at the top of the building and lack of proper tethering locations.

But it does make one wonder - what if airships hadn't gone out of favor so quickly, and had been developed to be safer and use something other than hydrogen or helium?  Somehow I never realized that the Hindenburg explosion happened so close to New York, but it was just about an hour and a half south of the city, in Lakehurst, New Jersey.  In an alternate history, would a better landing system have been devised for Midtown Manhattan, making it an airship hub?  Would we then have had masses of airships hovering above New York, a quiet multitude casting shadows on the streets below, bringing aerial traffic in and out of the center of the city?  If airships had continued to be developed along the lines envisioned in the 1920s, perhaps we would even have had wealthy bankers commuting by airship from Westchester, docking at the tops of their skyscraper offices, and returning home through the sky, never having to touch the ground.  Frank Lloyd Wright would have been proud.

Then again, maybe it's all for the best.  These past years, our friends on Wall Street have needed some grounding even without getting to ride airships to work.

From Modern Mechanics, 1930, via

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Book Review: "Theory and Design in the First Machine Age"

Reyner Banham 's Theory and Design in the First Machine Age (1960) is an engaging overview of the important theoretical developments of the early 20th century leading up to the "International Style" of the 1930s-40s.  Banham does a fairly good job, in my opinion, of avoiding excessive editorializing, although he has a clear viewpoint on the Modern Movement and finishes with a strong conclusion.  In opposition to his teacher, Nikolaus Pevsner , whose own history of modernism came out in 1936, Banham dismantled the " form follows function " credo that became the stereotype of modernism, arguing instead that formalism (a preoccupation with style and aesthetics) was an important, if not overriding, concern of Modern architects.  Two sections of the book struck me in particular: his analysis of Le Corbusier's famous book Vers une architecture (Toward a [new] architecture) from 1923, and his Conclusion (chapter 22), where he breaks the link between functionali...

Vertical Bike Rack

The work of our hands! A little backstory:  We bought two bikes as soon as we could after moving here, so we could both bike to work.  After a few uneventful months of chaining up our bikes next to our car in the carport of our apartment building, Justin's bike was stolen.  (Mine was mysteriously left behind, together with Justin's pannier, which the thieves helpfully folded up and placed on top of my bike.  My only guess is that the chain holding my bike was harder to cut than the chain on Justin's.)  Since then, we've kept our bikes inside, hauling them up and down two flights of stairs to our third-floor apartment every time we take them out, which is usually a few times a week.  Ugh.  Better than buying a new bike every few months, though. We needed a rack that would keep the bikes off the floor, off the walls, and in as small a footprint as possible, without requiring us to drill into or otherwise damage the walls (or floor or ceiling). ...

Book Review: De Architectura (The Ten Books of Architecture)

Marcus Vitruvius Pollio , The Ten Books of Architecture (De architectura) , trans. Morris Hicky Morgan (1914) with 68 illustrations drawn from a variety of earlier translations of the text (page numbers from the Dover 1960 edition). For summer reading, I doubt this is high on anyone's list, but I found it interesting enough!  I picked up the ever-so-famous Ten Books when I started auditing Mark Wigley's lecture on architectural theory this past semester; Dean Wigley is the dean of GSAPP and a flamboyant and provocative speaker who can somehow make even architectural theory seem interesting and controversial.  Of course, the semester begins with Vitriuvius and De architectura , as this is the earliest (at least, earliest complete) treatise on architecture to have survived.  Wigley, in his inimitable fashion, waved the book around throughout his lecture, in which he instructed us all to read the preface, maybe the first chapter on the education of an architect, and nothi...