It was Saturday, December 28th, 2019 and, having nothing other than work to do, I took various modes of mass transportation to JFK International to check out the renovated TWA Flight Center. I had recently attended a lecture at the Japan Society by a former professor of mine, the architect Toshiko Mori. the premise of whose presentation was that it is the work you are exposed to in your childhood that more than anything else informs your adult design sense. This is unquestionably true. Her father brought her to see several of the works of Kenzo Tange, and these were the expressive buildings, combining as they did regional cultural cues with a modernist aesthetic, that stayed with her. Similarly, my father was an architect, and beginning in the early 1960’s I would accompany him to job sites. At the time he was working in the office of Morris Lapidus, the iconoclastic designer known for his “lavish” (shall we say) hotels in Miami Beach and elsewhere. Lapidus, perhaps by way of his Puerto Rico connections, was also commissioned to design the modest Caribbean Pavilion (1) at the 1964 NY World’s Fair. My dad was the project manager, and on one occasion he brought me along on a site visit. This was before the fair opened, and I got to see the finishing touches being put on a number of the most iconic pavilions (1).
More to the point, as a project manager for Lapidus, dad regularly flew to Miami and San Juan, usually via TWA, and since the whole family went to see him off or await his return, I spent much of my childhood marveling at both the airport in general and Eero Saarinen’s TWA Flight Center in particular. And so it was, with the memory of Mori’s lecture, and my own history with the building, that I set out to explore the building for the first time in about fifty years, albeit in its latest incarnation as the lobby of the JFK Hotel, and in my latest incarnation as a world-renowned architect. Hey, you can say whatever you want in a blog, right?
When the AirTrain crosses the Belt Parkway it abruptly enters the semi-sovereign city-state that is John F. Kennedy International. The closely-packed houses of Queens give way to a vast savanna upon which everything is super-sized and generously spaced, and, from the height of the monorail, the curvature of the earth is almost if not quite perceptible. Indeed, JFK is so immense that, if driving, one travels nearly two miles from the airport’s perimeter before reaching the terminal core. [One of my favorite childhood experiences was to be riding on the JFK section of the Van Wyck Expressway before it dipped below a wide runway overpass, just as a huge and gleaming jet was taxiing across, and frankly this still thrills me. I would even insist to whomever was driving that they either speed up or slow down to get the timing right; whomever was driving would willingly oblige.]
Originally built in the late 1950’s as New York International, but commonly (and poetically) known as “Idlewild”(3) for the windswept expanse upon which it was sited, the airport, along with many other things, was renamed for the fallen president soon after his assassination. Although (as was well known at the time) I was opposed to this rush to commemorate, in the case of Idlewild, as with the re-naming of Cape Canaveral, the gesture was apt, for the airport that emerged in the early 1960’s seemed very much an expression of Kennedy’s “New Frontier” ideals. The signage fonts, the cocktail-napkin-sketch-massing of the International Arrivals Building, and most of all the curvilinear lampposts (which are still doing their thing), all were original and futuristic in 1962 and, even after much demolition and multiple makeovers (eventually devolving JFK into what NY Times architecture critic Herbert Muschamp called “a theme park of life in modern Albania”), enough remains of the original vision to remind our cynical age of a comparatively optimistic era.
Ironically, as good as it looked on paper, Idlewild was functionally obsolete virtually the day that it opened. Akin to a World’s Fair (have you noticed that nobody throws World’s Fairs anymore?), Idlewild was conceived as a destination in itself, with each of several major airlines independently commissioning its own “pavilion”, and with its inspirational centerpiece an array of three chapels seemingly floating on a large reflecting pool (4). [Consider by contrast Hongkong’s spectacular Chek Lap Kok, exemplar of the new airport model, which you never actually see except from within.]
The presumption that TWA, PanAm (5), Eastern (reportedly making a comeback), National, et. al., would be with us for all time was an understandable one, just as we take it for granted that GM, Ford & Chrysler/Stellantis, all “too big to fail,” remain with us, but this presumption did not anticipate the singular manner in which the business would attract flyboys (e.g., Howard Hughes, Apollo 8 commander Frank Borman, Marty Shugrue — that’s right, Marty Shugrue (6)), wildcatters, consolidators, egotists, self-promotors (e.g., Donald Trump), speculators and corporate raiders, (e.g., Carl Icahn), all of them drawn to the illusory glamour, and all of them convinced that they would succeed where their predecessors had failed. Hughes, Icahn, Trump, Borman, Marty Shugrue — that’s right, Marty Shugrue — and others less flamboyant or charismatic, but no less hubristic — all ultimately failed as airline executives. [Richard Branson, a combination of all of the above, would appear to be the exception that proves the rule.] Just think of the many regional, national and international carriers that have come and gone, or been swallowed and scrapped by larger entities, in addition to those listed above: Braniff, AirWest, Piedmont, Northeast (famous for its “yellowbird”), Southern, Continental, MGM, Northwest Orient, TRUMP, BOAC, People Express, USAir, ValuJet, Sabena, Bonanza, Outback, Appleby’s, Rolling Rock, TJ Maxx, Oprah … Okay, some of those I made up, but you get the idea. In any case, that was how I was occupying my mind, listing every defunct airline I could think of, until the AirTrain mercifully deposited me at Terminal 5.
As I mentioned way back there, the original concept for New York International allowed for privately-commissioned “flight centers” for PanAm, TWA, American and Eastern, with an “International Arrivals Building” serving as a plug-and-play for Avianca, Viasa, VARIG and Aerolineas Argentinas, to name but four of the numerous international carriers who were each allotted a measly two or three check-in counters within the IAB’s vast concourse. Of the three major flight centers — TWA, PanAm, and American — only the TWA remains. The Pam Am “Worldport”, as it was known then, was unceremoniously demolished in 2014, despite the protests of over-zealous preservationists. You had to wonder what they were thinking, since anyone who had ever attempted to navigate that terminal, especially after Delta got its grubby hands on it, knows that implosion was too good for that misbegotten, multi-leveled labyrinth. The American Airlines terminal was demolished in 2007, along with the stained-glass-mosaic-mural-facade for which it was chiefly known (7). All this is to say that, had JFK been fully remade as a truly modern and functional airport, the TWA Flight Center would have been demolished along with the rest of the original structures. It is only because it appealed to critics and preservationists, and is understandable to and beloved by the public, that is has endured. And as a consequence New York is left with an airport that is quirky, despised, tolerated and very much emblematic of the city it ostensibly serves.
By now you are probably wondering if I will ever get to the point, which is, how were the cocktails in the sunken lounge?, and I do apologize for rhapsodizing over an airport which, despite its myriad flaws, remains the only one I have ever truly loved. I shall now proceed to that point. It is not a long walk from the AirTrain stop to the TWA Hotel, but one which allows you to drink in the landmark in its totality. I am exaggerating only slightly when I say that this must be what it is like to approach the Taj Mahal or the Great Sphinx or the Parthenon or Fallingwater (which I have done) or any of civilization’s indisputable architectural masterpieces on foot.
Upon entering, I immediately succumbed to nostalgia and wandered aimlessly, intent upon examining every square inch of the interior, whose only flat surfaces are the floors and the glazing. The wonders of the TWA building are how its complex curvatures could have been resolved so elegantly — both structurally and aesthetically — in the architect’s mind and without the aid of a computer program — and then that the whole was actually brought to stunning materiality.
The renovation which created the hotel’s lobby and lounges is thoughtful and immaculate (the hotel itself is a new structure embracing the rear of the building) . There is a gift shop with merchandise that one might actually be interested in purchasing (I bought my wife a plush bath towel with the TWA monogram - stitched, not embossed, by the way) and a splendid exhibit on the evolution of the flight attendant uniform, which proves conclusively, if you still needed convincing, that the 1970’s represented a low point in the history of fashion. Further back, there are reconstructions of Saarinen’s work space (featuring many of his architectural drawings, which you can leaf through) and for whatever reason a typical suburban den of the era (which I can tell you really nails it — right down to the JO-HAN car models, period board games, wood paneling, and mid-century modern furniture, known at the time as “furniture”).
Yet for all the splendor of the terminal and its installations, it was the tubes, the umbilicals, the tunnels, the tentacles, the pipelines — whatever you want to call them — the two passageways that connected the terminal with the gates, that most captured my young imagination and gratified my adult one. These minimalist, hushed, diffusely-lit, entirely enclosed tubes were the most iconic expression of the jet age ever realized. It is a wonder that they have survived.
And the cocktails in the sunken lounge? I limited myself to one, the “CG Manhattan” (Woodford Reserve Bourbon, Carpano Antica Vermouth & Angostura Bitters), to which I gave a B+ for being a bit watery. Next time I visit, I’ll try the “Come Fly With Me” (Grey Goose Vodka, St. Germain, Prosecco & Fresh Lime Juice). And the prices were actually quite reasonable, considering that your only alternative for a libation in the general area would be at one of those sad concourse pubs.
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Architects are notorious for bad-mouthing the work of their peers, if not their peers themselves . I learned this in college, when my classmates and professors routinely trashed many of the architects and buildings I had naively thought to be above reproach. Since then I have heard everything from the Guggenheim to the Seagram’s Tower to the Eiffel Tower, and everyone from I.M. Pei to Philip Johnson (perhaps deservedly so) to Frank Gehry, subjected to merciless attack. This was kitsch, and that was a one-liner, and this was facile, or derivative, and so-and-so was bourgeois, or fascist, or both, but in all this time I have never heard a disparaging word about Saarinen or the TWA Flight Center. Saarinen might have gone on to create many such masterpieces, but he died of a brain tumor at age 51, just before the completion of this, his greatest work. Or perhaps his early death kept what would have been his later work from being repetitive, derivative, and facile. I rather doubt it, but of course as with many things, we shall never know. What we can be assured of is that the TWA Flight Center, with its New York City Landmark status, will outlive us all in some form or another. It’s a comforting thought, especially when mused upon in the sunken lounge, with a CG Manhattan firmly in one’s grip. Civilization, in all its forms, endures.
(1)The Caribbean pavilion consisted of a Tikki hut-styled restaurant and a bi-camerally symmetrical adobe-faced exhibition space. I wish I had had the presence of mind at the time to ask my dad why Lapidus thought that adobe, or, more likely, “faux-dobe”, made a suitably representative material for the islands (I would have gone with blocks of fossilized coral). Probably a budgetary thing. Regardless, one can see a hint of Saarinen influence in the winged massing. Just a hint, mind you.
(2) For me the most memorable was the otherwise forgettable Chrysler “Autofare”, because I was allowed to walk under its gigantic, grotesque caricature of a car (actually a stock ‘64 Imperial). Tacky though it was, I will never forget it. By contrast, the GM and Ford Pavilions were stand-outs. American Motors knew enough not to participate, in the event you were wondering. And what of the major airlines? Well, TWA, Pan American, and United Air Lines each hosted modest exhibits in the omnibus Transportation & Travel Pavilion. Eastern Air Lines offered a bus link to the Fair to and from both LaGuardia and JFK. But it was TWA that classed up and offered regular helicopter service between the Fair’s Port Authority Heliport (still with us as “Terrace on the Park”, a catering facility of all things) and its brand-new Eero Saarinen-designed Flight Center at JFK. And there is your missing link.
(3) The TV show “Car 54, Where Are You,” which aired only from 1962 to 1963, immortalized the name “Idlewild” in the lyrics of its opening song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S5MkCAwupe0 . One can speculate on whether the lyrics of the title tune would have been altered had the show dragged on for another season. If so, my vote would have gone to, “There’s a flasher on the B, Brezhnev’s due at Ken-a-deee!” Note also the “eyebrow” wings on the 1961 Cliff Voss-designed Plymouth black-and-white’s monstrous front end. [It was, however, the truly incredible tail end of the 1959 Chevrolet that beat both Saarinen and Voss to the punch, wing-wise].
(4) The three chapels that formed the oddly-named “Tri-Faith Plaza” were for the Catholic, Protestant and Jewish denominations. The reflecting pool was soon drained, when it was realized that it attracted birds, which are the last creatures you want to see hanging around an airport, with the possible exception of touring musicians. The chapels were among my favorite sights, especially at night when illuminated by multi-colored floodlights. Of the three, the Protestant (at center in photos below) was the most striking architecturally; no surprise as it was designed by Edgar Tafel, perhaps Frank Lloyd Wright’s most adept acolyte and imitator. [The demolition of the three, in 1989, along with the drained reflecting pool, just to make way for more parking, was a tragedy, and not just for migrating waterfowl — it also left JFK without a proper place to pray that your plane wouldn’t be filled with screaming infants.]
(5) One of the few things that Stanley Kubrick got wrong in 2001: A Space Odyssey was to decal the space station shuttle “Orion” with PanAm livery (see photo below). But could he really have been expected to predict both the demise of PanAm and the advent of VirginAtlantic? One may also speculate that the iconic red-on-white TWA color scheme influenced the maroon-on-white set design of the space station interior. Lending weight to this theory is the fact that Kubrick resided in New York (specifically in the penthouse of 145 East 84th Street) while he and Arthur C. Clarke collaborated on the screenplay, and he must have passed through the terminal many times. (Although it must also be noted that the enigmatic Kubrick, a licensed pilot, suffered fear of flying, eventually motivating him to permanently settle and make his films exclusively in the U.K., even Full Metal Jacket and Eyes Wide Shut. ) [In that same space station sequence we also see the old familiar Bell System symbol, a Howard Johnson’s “Earthlight” restaurant, and a Hilton Hotel. At least those three are still going strong!]
(6) Shugrue, a more obscure figure, was a onetime Navy pilot and the court-appointed Trustee-in-Bankruptcy of Eastern Air Lines. His desperate attempts to boost morale (“We are running a very good airline here”) and keep the carrier aloft were pathetic to watch in their futility.
(7) The airline itself, however, remarkably endures, an astonishing feat of corporate survival considering how many more reliable carriers have inexplicably crashed and burned (you’ll pardon the expression). No other airline has fallen so far and so fast as American (again, you’ll pardon the expression). If you’ll allow me to illustrate by way of reminiscence, a flight I took from L.A. to New York, circa 1981: the 727 less than half-full; the attendants well-paid and relaxed; the pilot genuinely enthusiastic in announcing the view of the Grand Canyon; Woody Allen’s manager Jack Rollins one of the passengers; the boeuf bourguignon edible; my client paying for the trip — was the best flight I have ever taken domestically, and because of that one experience I was an AA booster for years afterward. Cut to a 2018 AA flight out of LaGuardia to Cleveland which was so utterly inept in every aspect as to make me swear off both the airline and the airport, if not the city of Cleveland, forever. But then we all have our air travel horror stories.
Cocktails available at the sunken lounge:
GG MANHATTAN
Woodford Reserve Bourbon, Carpano Antica Vermouth & Angostura Bitters
OLD FASHIONED
Old Forester Bourbon, Regans’ Orange Bitters, Angostura Bitters & Demerara
PAPER PLANE
Maker’s Mark Bourbon, Aperol, Amaro Nonino & Fresh Lemon Juice
NEGRONI
Bombay Sapphire Gin, Campari & Dolin Rouge Vermouth
BLOODY MARY
Tito’s Vodka & House-Made Bloody Mary Mix
THE RUNWAY
Absolut Elyx Vodka, Dolin Dry Vermouth & Olives
Served With TWA Flight WingsWEATHER DELAY
Belvedere Vodka, Hot Chocolate & Marshmallows
IDLEWILD HOT TODDY
Sailor Jerry Spiced Rum, Hot Apple Cider & Cinnamon Stick
POWDER 8
Tito’s Vodka, St George Coffee Liqueur, Espresso & Demerara
COME FLY WITH ME
Grey Goose Vodka, St-Germain Elderflower Liqueur, Prosecco & Fresh Lime Juice
MARGARITA
Casamigos Blanco Tequila, Agave & Fresh Lime Juice
MOSCOW MULE
Absolut Vodka, Fresh Lime Juice & Q Ginger Beer
PHIL’S PREDICTION
Patron Silver, Dolin Blanc, Cucumber, Honey & Fresh Lime Juice
Getting There: By car: find your way to the Van Wyck Expressway, follow the signs to JFK, sit in traffic, miss your flight, and regret that you didn’t take the AirTrain, which you can’t help but notice gliding serenely past you on the elevated monorail to your left. [The one possible advantage to getting there by car, however, is that you might drive under a taxiway overpass just as a jumbo jet is crossing.] By train: the AirTrain runs frequently at all hours of the day and night to and from the transit nexus in Jamaica, Queens. That’s the easy part. Getting to Jamaica can be another story. I made the mistake of traveling from Greenpoint, Brooklyn, on a weekend when the E was running local service only, making fifteen stops between Court Square and the terminus at Sutphin-Archer [same for the ride back]. Check the MTA service advisories before you go. Better yet, enjoy the facility in full by spending the night at the hotel before an early departure.
Postscriptum: A few years later, I had an early JetBlue flight to L.A., so I decided to spend the night at the TWA JFK Hotel. The cocktail menu had been revamped and the Come Fly With Me was no longer available. Instead, I had the Eero Dynamics - Bourbon, Orange Bitters, Angostura Bitters & Demerara. Pertectly acceptable.
1959 CHEVROLET IMPALA
TWA Flight Center, 2019, with JFK hotel addition beyond. The Lampposts are also original.
Re-creation of Eero Saarinen’s studio.
TRI-FAITH PLAZA, JFK. DEMOLISHED 1989 (Edgar Tafel’s late-Wrightian Protestant chapel is at center).
1961 PLYWMOUTH
CARIBBEAN PAVILION, LOWER RIGHT, 1964-65 NY WORLD’S FAIR, AS SEEN FROM THE “SWISS SKY RIDE”. ARCHITECT: MORRIS LAPIDUS.
KAGAWA PREFECTURAL GYMNASIUM (KENZO TANGE, ARCHITECT) 1964.
Chrysler “Autofare,” 1964 New York World’s Fair.
SPACE STATION INTERIOR 2001: A SPACE ODYSSEY (DIRECTOR: STANLEY KUBRICK). NOTE THE “TULIP” TABLES. DESIGNER? EERO SAARINEN, OF COURSE. THE WALL-MOUNTED FLAT-SCREEN TV’S ARE ALSO UNCANNILY PRESCIENT.
AMERICAN AIRLINES TERMINAL (1960 - DEMOLISHED 1995)
Another view of “Tri-Faith Plaza”, which sounds like some sort of multi-denominational shopping center. Note the Manhattan skyline on the distant horizon. Passengers arriving in New York for the first time who expect to step off the plane and into Times Square must instead reckon with fifteen miles of low-rise urban sprawl separating JFK from the entertainment district.
Model of the “Orion” space station shuttle with PAN AM livery. Photo from “Stanley Kubrick’s 2001: A Space Odyssey” exhibit, Museum of the Moving Image.
WORLD’S FAIR HELIPORT. This was the most flattering image I could find. Some of my architect friends appreciate this hideous building as an expression of pure functionalism, and I suppose they have a point. That’s the GM Futurama pavilion in the background at lower right.
NEW YORK INTERNATIONAL IRPORT? Having the abstraction of the International Arrivals Building also serve as the “A” in AIRPORT was a bit of a stretch.
Farewell, PAN AM Worldport, you still owe me 3 hours of my life.