On September 11, 2001, two planes helmed by hijackers affiliated with the terrorist group al-Qaeda struck the Twin Towers of the World Trade Center Complex, killing almost 3,000 people and completely devastating the towers themselves and all the buildings surrounding them. Following the attacks, the city and country were determined to rebuild and use the leveled space for a highly purposeful use, cognizant of the pain that New Yorkers experienced from the terrorist attacks, as well as the prerogative and drive these same New Yorkers — and Americans collectively — had to steadfastly move forward. But were these prerogatives ever accomplished? Since 9/11, peace of mind for the American public and the American government has never been fully restored, and the security and logistical changes made to the original design for One World Trade Center surreptitiously reflect this. As we analyze the historical progression of the project, we can determine whether it is fear, or pragmatic implementations for commercial and security-based interests driving these changes.
By the time of its completion, the original World Trade Center was successful in fulfilling the needs of both public and private interests. David Rockefeller, President of Chase Manhattan Bank and member of the Rockefeller family, was the driving force for business interests at the original World Trade Center. Rockefeller sought to make New York City the nucleus of the world’s financial market via a physical trade center. New York City also sought to have this trade center be a cultural stay in the city, while also being a viable competitor in the “skyscraper race” that was occurring between cities across the globe. Lead architect Minoru Yamasaki took charge of merging and satisfying the symbolic, public, and private interests of the project. Yamasaki decided that in order to balance the commercial and indicatory requests for the project, a physical symmetry — two buildings standing side by side, with an open plaza in between so that the sheer immensity could be admired, was needed. Thus, the concept of a twin tower project was born. And for 28 years, the Twin Towers were both a beacon of American patriotism and American financial prosperity.
After the 9/11 attacks, the Lower Manhattan Development Corporation extended an invitation to the most innovative architects and planners around the world to participate in an LMDC design study regarding the future of the World Trade Center site and surrounding areas Established by then-Governor Pataki, the Corporation’s guidelines for a winning entry were to include a distinctive skyline, a preference for recognition of the Tower Footprints, commercial and retail space, grand Promenade on West Street, a new street grid, a central transit center, residential housing, cultural elements, and a sequence of public open spaces of different sizes.
In December 2002, the Corporation selected architect Daniel Libeskind’s “Memory Foundations” site plan as the winning design and plan for the site reconstruction. In Libeskind’s original design, a symbolically measured 1,776-foot skyscraper called the Vertical World Gardens, named for an almost freestanding spire filled with trees and plants at the tip, would stand as the main attraction, with offices reaching the 64th floor and a restaurant above this point. But by Fall 2003, Libeskind’s design was already being altered by WTC authorities such as Larry Silverstein.
Through 2003-2005, Libeskind’s proposal was completely changed in design and function. The new tower eliminated all of the previously publicly-accessible features like a restaurant and performance arts center, leaving a mere observation deck at the very top. The only aspect of Libeskind’s original proposal was the idea to not build the new tower on the footsteps where the original Twin Towers once stood. Under Silverstein and Childs’ partnership, the 1.2 million square feet of symbolic office space Vertical World Garden tower became the 2.6 million square feet of commercial office space Freedom Tower, vacant of any emblematic features that many of the loved ones of 9/11’s fallen had envisioned.
In the June 2005 New York Times “Letters to the Editor” section, the following comment is a preview of how much scorn 1 World Trade Center’s design would soon be barraged with:
The new plan for the Freedom Tower, if built, would represent a monument to the victory of terror and fear over human freedom. Isolated from the city grid, perched on a fortress-like pedestal, hostile to strangers and closed to the outside, it is everything a free society and especially a free city is not.
Once upon a time, cities proudly proclaimed that ”city air makes free.” Now, we propose to build a cage and lock ourselves in it.
Flash-forward to November 3, 2014, when 1 World Trade Center, the tallest skyscraper in the Western Hemisphere, marked its completion by hosting its grand opening—or “ungrand opening” as one architecture journalist framed it, with a sparsely-attended ceremony. After years of tolerating the conflicting reports and news updates between commercial developers, architects, and city officials involved, New Yorkers were reasonably frustrated and disinterested with what they believed to be an underwhelming final result of a skyscraper meant to stand for courage and progress. Ultimately, the final reviews of the building were comparable in glumness to the cloudy winter day on which the ceremony took place.
Chicago Tribune architecture critic Blair Kamin stated that even the captivating distant view of 1 WTC cannot conceal such faults as a mediocre mast that fails to hold up its end of the skyline conversation with the great art deco spires of the Empire State and Chrysler buildings. At closer range, the skyscraper’s glass-sheathed base, while not the fortress it initially threatened to be, exhibits a defensive crouch on the site of the 9/11. These remarks show that not only did the new skyscraper fail to meet aesthetic wishes of architects, but it was also more successful in representing the fears and trepidation that New Yorkers were so desperately trying to move away from.
The mural displayed in the lobby of the One World Trade building “ONE: Union of the Senses”, stands as a symbol of diversity. “It was very important to me that this painting would reflect a massive respect to the situation and event and the families, and a massive respect for the site,” says the Brooklyn artist José Parlá. But does this building really accomplish that? Though it has had a rough start with public favor, one can only hope that it will soon move past its controversies to truly be a beacon of rehabilitation for those who still grieve the events of 9/11, a point of pride for New Yorkers and Americans alike, and a symbol of the economic and social prosperity for the city of New York.