This week’s post is dedicated to a person who had an astounding impact on my life, Mrs. Annmarie Todes.
Mrs. Todes was my 6th grade humanities teacher. She was a person of the most devoted, humble, and loving nature. 6th grade was a huge transition for me: I started middle school relatively far from my home in a new school where I knew almost no one else and where the academic rigor challenged me. Mrs. Todes helped me through that.
Looking back, I think that she saw something in me that I did not and could not see in myself. My grades were poor in 6th grade and I did not feel as if I was living up to expectations. But Mrs. Todes treated me no differently than the other kids in my grade. Though she didn’t work one-on-one with me often, in the moments she could she did her best to help me understand what I was doing and why it mattered. She cultivated in me, though I did not sense it at the time, an affinity for writing, for history, and for art. Without her guidance, in 6th grade and beyond, I don’t think I would have found my passion, or many of the successes I’ve achieved. For that I am forever grateful.
Mrs. Todes passed away last week. Just a week earlier, when I found out she was in hospice, I sent her an email asking her what her favorite building and/or public place in New York City was. Her two answers surprised me at first: the Metropolitan Museum of Art and the New York Public Library (NYPL) Main Branch at 42nd St.
I expected her to tell me a little known place in NYC that she frequented, someplace she found solace in. Perhaps it was home to some obscure knowledge that she loved to enlighten other people with. But after sitting with her response for a few hours, I realized that it made perfect sense.
Where else in NYC can you find such generous reserves detailing the history of humankind in all of its splendor? Where else in NYC might a person with the utmost curiosity in the human experience, its grandeur and its grief, and the passion for sharing it with others, spend her time learning? The Met I am saving for another post; here, I’d like to take a look at the NYPL Main Branch, one of the finest examples of Beaux-Arts architecture, through Mrs. Todes’ eyes.
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Beaux-Arts architecture works because it inspires. Eclecticism reigns: the beaux arts combines the grandiosity of Ancient Greece and Rome with the humanism of the Renaissance and the theatricality of the Baroque. At the NYPL, Carrére and Hastings brought Dr. John Shaw Billings’ scrap paper vision into breathtaking reality.
Austere and commanding, the lions Patience and Fortitude sit outside. They welcome researchers, tourists, students, families, explorers… anyone really, the library is proud to be a public institution, into the over 100 miles of written knowledge found inside.
As Vincent Scully might have felt, you enter the building like royalty. Astor Hall fills you with a belief that anything is possible by sheer virtue of its bright, beautiful Vermont marble. You have two options, continue forward through the majestic archways, or give in to the gravity of the grand staircases on either side- like I always am.
Ascending these stairs, and those beyond, is an act of wonder and anticipation. The intricate bronze-work of the chandeliers, the delicate stone moulding, and the stature of the strong marble blocks finds no match in almost any other building in the country.
Waiting for you at the end of it all is the McGraw Rotunda and the Rose Main Reading Room. These burst alive with panels and corinthian pilasters of dark, walnut wood. Stunning paintings depict the virtuous history of the written word and the pure revelation of a blue sky infused with dazzling light and wispy clouds. How could one not feel the urge to learn as much as they could about the world?
The Main Branch, and other successful Beaux-Arts buildings, embody a striking duality: they are filled and adorned with opulence, yet they are humble, and strong. Mrs. Todes did more than just peruse the building and garner intelligence from its books, she became the living embodiment of the Main Branch and its doctrines. Resilient and strong-willed, she also gave as much as herself to other people as she could. Mrs. Todes opened her heart to others like the library, with thrall, offers its liveliness and wisdom to the citizens of New York.
The 20th-Century International Style rejected the Beaux-Arts and its frivolity. But in the best examples of Beaux-Arts architecture, in which care and consideration for design and materials are upheld, frivolity vanishes. Grandeur takes its place, which lends itself to inspiration and transformative experiences. I think that Mrs. Todes recognized this. I can imagine her walking through the halls and stairways of the Main Branch in exhilaration, forever leaving her touch on the building- and then on all that she encountered.
For that, I and so many others are forever grateful.
Gaudeamus igitur
Iuvenes dum sumus.
Post iucundam iuventutem
Post molestam senectutem
Nos habebit humus.
New York at its Best 