"It's as if nature has come back into the city" was how Daniel Libeskind described his idea for a residential tower grafted onto New York's Credit Suisse headquarters. Nine hundred feet high -- 300 feet taller than the Met Life clock tower -- its living spaces were to have been complimented with an extensive sky garden, with sections open to the elements via cutaways. The spiraling structure sacrificed living space for urban greening and impressed key figures in the city. However when the subprime mortgage crisis of 2007 landed, it hit financier Credit Suisse, and once pictures of the secret design leaked, the embryonic project died an early death when faced with harsh economic realities.
New York Tower at Madison Avenue, Daniel Libeskind (2007) —
"It's as if nature has come back into the city" was how Daniel Libeskind described his idea for a residential tower grafted onto New York's Credit Suisse headquarters. Nine hundred feet high -- 300 feet taller than the Met Life clock tower -- its living spaces were to have been complimented with an extensive sky garden, with sections open to the elements via cutaways. The spiraling structure sacrificed living space for urban greening and impressed key figures in the city. However when the subprime mortgage crisis of 2007 landed, it hit financier Credit Suisse, and once pictures of the secret design leaked, the embryonic project died an early death when faced with harsh economic realities.
courtesy Metropolis Books
Frank Gehry's Guggenheim Bilbao could have had an East River sibling, with four times the exhibition space as Frank Lloyd Wright's Fifth Avenue landmark. <br /><br />With land pledged by then New York mayor Rudolph Giuliani and capital to bring the $678-million project to fruition, everything looked set. Then 9/11 happened. The global economy stuttered, and Gehry's vision of twisted steel was now imbued with harrowing connotations. In December 2002, the museum released a statement explaining that the design was being shelved and projects "on a more modest level" would be considered. And that was the end of that.
Guggenheim Museum, Frank Gehry (2000) —
Frank Gehry's Guggenheim Bilbao could have had an East River sibling, with four times the exhibition space as Frank Lloyd Wright's Fifth Avenue landmark.

With land pledged by then New York mayor Rudolph Giuliani and capital to bring the $678-million project to fruition, everything looked set. Then 9/11 happened. The global economy stuttered, and Gehry's vision of twisted steel was now imbued with harrowing connotations. In December 2002, the museum released a statement explaining that the design was being shelved and projects "on a more modest level" would be considered. And that was the end of that.
courtesy Metropolis Books
We all know what New York's skyline looks like. But there are countless other versions that never left the architect's drawing board. The new book "<a href="index.php?page=&url=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.artbook.com%2F9781938922756.html" target="_blank" target="_blank">Never Built New York</a>" brings together these flights of fancy to paint an alternative reality of the US' defining city.<br /><br /><strong>Pictured: Rooftop Airport, William Zeckendorf (1945) -- </strong>The US had only just seen the back of World War II when realtor William Zeckendorf's ambitious design was mooted in December 1945. You could argue it wasn't the best climate to introduce a plan for a $3-billion elevated airport off Manhattan. The 144-sqaure-block, 200-foot expanse would have stretched from 24th to 71st street along the Hudson River, and would've had the same transport capacity as LaGuardia. <br /><br />Among its futuristic touches, airplanes would ascend to the runway by elevator, and beneath would be a self-contained city, including factories, commercial spaces and apartments -- as well as docks, railroads and steamship terminals. <br />Alas, Zeckendorf's prediction that park commissioner Robert Moses and the City Planning Commission would denounce the project proved true. Looking over the plans Moses branded it "ridiculous," and the realtor's grand design went no further.
We all know what New York's skyline looks like. But there are countless other versions that never left the architect's drawing board. The new book "Never Built New York" brings together these flights of fancy to paint an alternative reality of the US' defining city.

Pictured: Rooftop Airport, William Zeckendorf (1945) -- The US had only just seen the back of World War II when realtor William Zeckendorf's ambitious design was mooted in December 1945. You could argue it wasn't the best climate to introduce a plan for a $3-billion elevated airport off Manhattan. The 144-sqaure-block, 200-foot expanse would have stretched from 24th to 71st street along the Hudson River, and would've had the same transport capacity as LaGuardia.

Among its futuristic touches, airplanes would ascend to the runway by elevator, and beneath would be a self-contained city, including factories, commercial spaces and apartments -- as well as docks, railroads and steamship terminals.
Alas, Zeckendorf's prediction that park commissioner Robert Moses and the City Planning Commission would denounce the project proved true. Looking over the plans Moses branded it "ridiculous," and the realtor's grand design went no further.
courtesy Metropolis Books
In an alternative universe, this would have been boat-bound immigrants' first taste of New York, not Lady Liberty. Featuring a 129 feet high figure on a 50-foot plinth, the National American Indian Memorial was at one stage described as "veritably the Eighth Wonder of the World" in a pamphlet at the time. <br /><br />In the end, the monument, drawn up by Thomas Hastings, resembled the New York Public Library (which Hastings also designed). The monument had congressional approval and high-profile backers in Theodore Roosevelt and J.P. Morgan -- President William Howard Taft even broke ground in 1913 alongside Native American chiefs. But primary backer John Wanamaker soured relations with the indigenous communities soon after with an ill-conceived attempt to formally bring them into allegiance with the United States. Wanamaker, a heir not without his hobbies, lost interest and pursued his passion for flying boats, and when World War I came knocking, no one was in the mood to pick up the project once more.
National American Indian Memorial, Thomas Hasting and Daniel Chester French (1909) —
In an alternative universe, this would have been boat-bound immigrants' first taste of New York, not Lady Liberty. Featuring a 129 feet high figure on a 50-foot plinth, the National American Indian Memorial was at one stage described as "veritably the Eighth Wonder of the World" in a pamphlet at the time.

In the end, the monument, drawn up by Thomas Hastings, resembled the New York Public Library (which Hastings also designed). The monument had congressional approval and high-profile backers in Theodore Roosevelt and J.P. Morgan -- President William Howard Taft even broke ground in 1913 alongside Native American chiefs. But primary backer John Wanamaker soured relations with the indigenous communities soon after with an ill-conceived attempt to formally bring them into allegiance with the United States. Wanamaker, a heir not without his hobbies, lost interest and pursued his passion for flying boats, and when World War I came knocking, no one was in the mood to pick up the project once more.
courtesy Metropolis Books
Stadiums with roofs might be commonplace in the US in our day and age, but Geddes and Fuller's radical proposal in the mid '50s would have been a game changer. <br /><br />Dodgers owner Walter O'Malley enlisted Fuller's skills in geodesic domes to create what would have been a 750 feet wide and 300 feet high fiberglass lid for the baseball team's new hi-tech stadium in Atlantic Yards, downtown Brooklyn. The roof would have retracted, with the whole structure containing channels to maintain air flow. On the ground would have been "a synthetic substance to replace grass on the entire field and (could) be painted any color" -- essentially AstroTurf, 18 years before it was invented. <br /><br />Dodgers fans don't need to be told that their team eventually ended up in sunnier climbs: O'Malley took the club to Los Angeles, with questions over financing and delays making the Brooklyn project unworkable.
Dodger Dome, Norman Bel Geddes and R. Buckminster Fuller (1955) —
Stadiums with roofs might be commonplace in the US in our day and age, but Geddes and Fuller's radical proposal in the mid '50s would have been a game changer.

Dodgers owner Walter O'Malley enlisted Fuller's skills in geodesic domes to create what would have been a 750 feet wide and 300 feet high fiberglass lid for the baseball team's new hi-tech stadium in Atlantic Yards, downtown Brooklyn. The roof would have retracted, with the whole structure containing channels to maintain air flow. On the ground would have been "a synthetic substance to replace grass on the entire field and (could) be painted any color" -- essentially AstroTurf, 18 years before it was invented.

Dodgers fans don't need to be told that their team eventually ended up in sunnier climbs: O'Malley took the club to Los Angeles, with questions over financing and delays making the Brooklyn project unworkable.
courtesy Metropolis Books
Fuller's attempt to shield a portion of Manhattan from the elements originated in July 1950 with an idea for a half-mile wide geodesic dome he called "Noah's Ark #2." Fuller thought that among the benefits of these would be the need to clear snow and ice from roadways and regulating extreme temperatures within. <br /><br />"Future cities may have all housed activity -- dwelling, commercial and administrative -- within the dome shell, reserving whole interior of dome for a tropically gardened public park and community building area," wrote Fuller, who anticipated ascending roadways and high-speed vertical transport links to boot. Smaller scale versions proved structurally feasible, but 50 years on Manhattan has yet to greenlight the idea.
Dome over Mahattan, R. Buckminster Fuller (1961) —
Fuller's attempt to shield a portion of Manhattan from the elements originated in July 1950 with an idea for a half-mile wide geodesic dome he called "Noah's Ark #2." Fuller thought that among the benefits of these would be the need to clear snow and ice from roadways and regulating extreme temperatures within.

"Future cities may have all housed activity -- dwelling, commercial and administrative -- within the dome shell, reserving whole interior of dome for a tropically gardened public park and community building area," wrote Fuller, who anticipated ascending roadways and high-speed vertical transport links to boot. Smaller scale versions proved structurally feasible, but 50 years on Manhattan has yet to greenlight the idea.
courtesy Metropolis Books
When Major League Soccer (MLS) commissioned SHoP for a stadium design in Flushing Meadows Park, they can't have realized the furore it would create. The 25,000-seat, $300-million stadium featured a wall-less structure with perforations in the facade, which would shield fans from the elements while offering views of the World's Fair Unisphere, located just to the west. <br /><br />It was intended as the home of future MLS franchise New York City Football Club, but the design fell afoul of park advocates, who argued it rode roughshod over the area. The press picked up on negativity, but it was the New York Yankees (part owners of the franchise) who really buried the design, when they called for the soccer field to be built near Yankee Stadium in the Bronx. That plan was vetoed by Mayor Bill de Blasio, meaning the soccer team is currently playing in the football ground, and Flushing Stadium remains on the drawing board.
Flushing Stadium, ShoP (2013) —
When Major League Soccer (MLS) commissioned SHoP for a stadium design in Flushing Meadows Park, they can't have realized the furore it would create. The 25,000-seat, $300-million stadium featured a wall-less structure with perforations in the facade, which would shield fans from the elements while offering views of the World's Fair Unisphere, located just to the west.

It was intended as the home of future MLS franchise New York City Football Club, but the design fell afoul of park advocates, who argued it rode roughshod over the area. The press picked up on negativity, but it was the New York Yankees (part owners of the franchise) who really buried the design, when they called for the soccer field to be built near Yankee Stadium in the Bronx. That plan was vetoed by Mayor Bill de Blasio, meaning the soccer team is currently playing in the football ground, and Flushing Stadium remains on the drawing board.
courtesy Metropolis Books
Previously known as Blackwell's Island, and today known as Roosevelt Island, the 147-acre strip between Manhattan and Queens was once dubbed Welfare Island. Largely unheralded, it contained hospitals, a few tenements and abandoned buildings. <br /><br />Gruen had other plans: namely a $450-million megaproject involving eight- to 50-story apartment towers with room for 70,000 people. All of this was to be built on a 22-foot platform containing schools, shops and recreational space. Residents would be able to get around via moving sidewalks, but the project came to a halt when concerns were raised about transport links to the rest of New York City. Gruen had factored in ferries and helicopters to move his middle income inhabitants around the city, but that wasn't enough for new mayor John Lindsay, who called for fewer residences and larger green spaces. <br /><br />In the end authorities approved a different plan including low-profile housing for 16,000 people and none of the social hubs (or pizazz) Gruen envisaged.
Welfare Island, Victor Gruen (1961) —
Previously known as Blackwell's Island, and today known as Roosevelt Island, the 147-acre strip between Manhattan and Queens was once dubbed Welfare Island. Largely unheralded, it contained hospitals, a few tenements and abandoned buildings.

Gruen had other plans: namely a $450-million megaproject involving eight- to 50-story apartment towers with room for 70,000 people. All of this was to be built on a 22-foot platform containing schools, shops and recreational space. Residents would be able to get around via moving sidewalks, but the project came to a halt when concerns were raised about transport links to the rest of New York City. Gruen had factored in ferries and helicopters to move his middle income inhabitants around the city, but that wasn't enough for new mayor John Lindsay, who called for fewer residences and larger green spaces.

In the end authorities approved a different plan including low-profile housing for 16,000 people and none of the social hubs (or pizazz) Gruen envisaged.
courtesy Metropolis Books
In October 2012 it was announced that Foster + Partners had won a star-studded competition with their design for 425 Park Avenue, New York City. But that commission only tells part of the story. Zaha Hadid's concept for the space never got past the illustration phase, existing in a state Daniel Libeskind describes as "oblivious to time." It's light, open design wasn't dissimilar to Foster + Partner's winning design, though Hadid's comes with her signature curves and extruded forms.
425 Park Avenue, Zaha Hadid (2012) —
In October 2012 it was announced that Foster + Partners had won a star-studded competition with their design for 425 Park Avenue, New York City. But that commission only tells part of the story. Zaha Hadid's concept for the space never got past the illustration phase, existing in a state Daniel Libeskind describes as "oblivious to time." It's light, open design wasn't dissimilar to Foster + Partner's winning design, though Hadid's comes with her signature curves and extruded forms.
courtesy Metropolis Books
OMA also lost out to the British architecture firm. Its concertinaed monolith may not be physically built, but Libeskind suggests works like it may have untold influence over the future of architecture.
425 Park Avenue, OMA (2012) —
OMA also lost out to the British architecture firm. Its concertinaed monolith may not be physically built, but Libeskind suggests works like it may have untold influence over the future of architecture.
courtesy Metropolis Books