Manhattan at its best may be seen at that level of scale – the very small, the small and the submedium – that modern architecture eliminates almost entirely from its works. That’s why modernism is impressive only from a distance, because only then do its medium-sized features seem small and its small features offer some offset to blankness. (But it does not really fool any eye, practiced or unpracticed.) Nikos Salingaros writes of how architecture to be good must indulge every level of scale – our biological imperatives demand it – the ones that have promoted our instinct for survival through the intuitive analysis of detail, the footprint of the tiger, say, for eons. That’s why we love New York’s old buildings, with details high and low, ornate and mundane. So here are some loving shots of those lovable details that we perceive with an interest that slices to our core being:
Architecture Here and There 