Everybody knows Hudson Yards. Nobody knows Dan Doctoroff named it. Anybody doesn’t know Dan Doctoroff?
When he was Mayor Bloomberg’s No. 2, he and I assessed Olympic possibilities. We didn’t get the Olympics, but he got an idea. Today, as chairman of Hudson Yards’ $475 million building the Shed, he gave me a tour and said:
“Being at the Hudson and the old railroad yards begat the name. Fully done, Hudson Yards will have taken us 30 years. It’ll take another eight to finish before becoming NYC’s premier cultural institution.
“To start we raised $530 million. Bloomberg gave $75 mil, Tisch $27.5 mil then companies like Time Warner, Coach, Google, BlackRock came in. Constant worry, perpetually terrifying, was raising money. Five years of me losing sleep. I constantly worried we’d run out of money. People came through at critical moments.
“Owned by the MTA, this piece of land — the city’s only area of parking lots, warehouses, rail yards where tax revenues have actually gone down — was our last frontier. NYC’s whole downtown district is the size of Minneapolis, and nobody’s known what to do with it for 100 years. In 1921, the Yankees considered it for their site. In 1996, I walked it when planning for the Olympics.
“To define what this leading cultural exhibition, the Shed, should be like, we held international competitions. Our idea was flexibility. And in 2008, designer David Rockwell and architect Liz Diller shaped the building. On giant wheels, depending on an outdoor or indoor attraction and weather, it’s actually movable.
“America’s Cup sail-makers created 150-foot-long shades that can withstand 108 decibels of sound. Guggenheim helped design our spaces. BAM helped on managing the spaces. MoMA helped find our artistic director Alex Poots.
“Inside was a balcony, which, to make more futuristic and functionable, we had to redesign for another $28 million.”
Cities either grow or die. Outside, a Pekingese peed in newly planted purple flowers, an old fat guy tossed a cigar stub near a dude in Gucci-style loafers and no socks. Blocks away were leftover crappy old buildings, and a sidewalk away from the Shed stood a halal outdoor food truck. From a window you can see the whole crazy quilt that’s New York.
Doctoroff took me into the empty cavernous space, where Björk is now presenting “Cornucopia,” eight concerts with digital visuals. Barring our entry, a young guard requested ID. Said Doctoroff quietly: “I’m the chairman.” He let us in.
Settle down, Jerry
Nagging Nadler: Why you battling for unneeded evidence? The House isn’t impeaching. Enforcement, which will stretch past the next election, would embolden DJT’s martyrdom. Even a dope like me knows that if a court decides against Trump, future presidents get screwed on asserting executive privilege. Once that’s asserted, the government’s House and Senate — equal powers and checks and balances — are on a collision course, and Constitutional confrontation between branches need be avoided. Neither prefers executive privilege defined by a court. Both support it when their party’s in control of the presidency.
Why more hearings? Shut up. Voters can voice their opinions on Election Day.
The whole world loves “Beetlejuice.”
At the Winter Garden, applauding Tony nominee Alex Brightman, a couple in that day from Pittsburgh. Why they in New York? “To see ‘Beetlejuice,’ ” they said. “We fly home tomorrow.”
“Fat? You’re kidding. She put on so much weight she even had to take out her appendix scar.”
Muttered a block from me — and only in New York, kids, only in New York.
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