A skyscraper that fragments the clouds above Tribeca stands at 56 Leonard Street and is nicknamed the Jenga tower. The neighborhood's tallest building, it rises in a seemingly unsteady manner to a height of 821 feet, or 57 stories total. The nickname “Jenga” makes clear how it is perceived by the casual observer, with a certain level of uncertainty. As in the game by the same name, block shapes are stacked atop one another in an offset manner creating the appearance of instability. 56 Leonard, apropos to our time, is a building full of ironies.

Designed by world-renowned Pritzker Prize winning architectural firm Herzog & de Meuron (HDM), directed by Jacques Herzog and Pierre de Meuron, it was completed in 2017. In order to understand the building and its significance, it helps to place it within the context of some of the firm’s other works, and within their philosophical approach to design. 

HDM’s approach reflects some of the core threads of modern architectural thinking hearkening back to artists such as Adolf Loos and Le Corbusier. But as one might expect of 21st Century architects, they have built upon and expanded this thinking to accommodate our contemporary struggles.

Like Loos, HDM rejects frivolous ornamentality, but they would argue with his pretentious statement that “To seek beauty only in form and not in ornament is the goal to which all humanity is striving.” [1] Rather than elevate one above the other, or obliterate one with the other, HDM seeks a melding of the two whereby the form becomes the ornament and vice versa. In their view, ornament and form materialize from an idea; the two function together seamlessly to create an intended experience. Herzog says: “I am not particularly interested in either structure or ornament or space as such. Things start to get interesting when you bring all these elements together in a single thing, and if you can experience it, by moving through the building, by using it.” [2] 

HDM eschews rules and categories choosing instead to focus on purpose. While they may agree with Corbusier’s sentiments on the power of a purposeful arrangement of forms: “by forms and shapes [the architect] affects our senses to an acute degree…” [3], they would dismiss his five principle points as limiting and inapplicable to contemporary culture. 

Despite the intellectual heft of their approach, HDMs architectural methodology is largely practical, given shape primarily by basic concerns like context/location, intended use, and available resources. These concerns have propelled a vast array of building types and structures all over the world, utilizing both modern and traditional materials—and very often a mix. In Herzog’s own words: “All that we have ever designed comes from observation and description… This is why our buildings are each so different from one another. Because we turn our heads in different directions, the buildings arise from changing perceptions.” [4]

The plan for 56 Leonard grew out of a desire to make a skyscraper that avoided the repetitive and often impersonal compartmental spaces that arise from typical vertical building designs, of which New York has many. “Typical residential towers, while successful in aggregating the living unit, often fail to improve upon the living environment. The multiplication of units within simple extruded shapes produces repetitive and anonymous structures with no extra benefits or architectural qualities despite the incredible densities they achieve.” [5] 

Serving an exclusive clientele of those who can consider apartment prices starting at roughly five to upwards of fifty million, HDM realized that the residents would want to feel distinguished. By stacking blocks of different volumes at different relations to one another, what HDM calls “the strategy of pixelating,” they were able to create unique living spaces with a variety of views. According to the architects, only 5 out of the total 145 apartments are repetitions. Each floor plane is entirely unique. 

The careful calculation in the situation of living spaces relative to each other has produced a skyscraper that distinguishes itself from the inside out. The residents enjoy uniquely planned living experiences while the city at large enjoys a skyscraper that pushes the boundaries of its archetype and adds interest to the skyline. 

Utilizing readily available materials common to construction in and around New York City in provocative ways, with asymmetrical structural elements and balconies cantilevering in all directions, the architects admit that their structure stands “at the very edge of what is structurally possible.” [6] This technical prowess sets the Jenga building apart in a potentially subversive manner and is perhaps why the game-inspired name has stuck. 

Regardless of the architects’ feelings about the label "Jenga," they are surely aware that their work produces a certain level of uncertainty, even potentially, unease. Comparisons have been made to the MahaNakhon building in Bangkok, another skyscraper with a pixilated appearance. Both works recall ideas such as fragmentation, disintegration, and collapse.

This is an inherent irony of 56 Leonard: a distinguished structure for an über-elite population that draws attention to vulnerability. It is notable that the degree of structural offset, and therefore of vulnerability, is at its maximum with the highest and most expensive units. Knowing this, it is difficult to avoid reflecting on the implications of the extreme economic inequalities of our time.  

The way HDM has chosen to describe their building in information-age rhetoric as a system of “pixelation” is also revealing. A pixel is a unit of measurement, and by definition the same size as any other pixel in a given display. The “pixel” units in the Jenga tower however are a variety of different sizes, which suggests disruption and disorganization.

A digital image retains its integrity and coherence by the exact relationship of the same-sized pixels to each other. When one pixel goes renegade, the image is interrupted. When many defect, the image becomes confusing and indecipherable. By erecting a pixelated “system” of different dimensions, the architects conjure a paradox and prompt us to think about the nature of digital images as a ruse: this alludes to the uncertainty of technology, even of reality. The reflective nature of the glass façade underscores this questioning of reality as it reflects the outside world in a fragmented state.

56 Leonard is a "Gesamtkunstwerk," or total work of art. As with the structure and facade, HDM has imbued the building's interior with meaning. They have designed every detail with purposefulness, making them “functional” and effectively merging ornament with form. On the inside, large concrete pillars in the common areas convey a sense of stability and control. A hallway with a spiral staircase and a massive column that spans two levels recalls the corridors of Corbusier’s Centrosoyuz, the government building in Moscow, with an almost punitive irony. (The two buildings also share a distinct focus on glass and concrete.) 

Contrasted with the austere nature of the concrete surfaces are more fanciful elements that echo the pixelated nature of the facade, but in a less disruptive way. In the pool area for example, the walls glitter with thousands of small, like-size metallic tiles—a reflective, fragmented surface arranged in an organized manner. Perhaps they are intended to nudge occupants toward self-reflection; the irony being that their images are returned to them in a broken format. 

The theater is another deft execution of artistic irony and purposeful design. As one would expect, it is an appropriately dark room with rows of seats facing a screen; except the screen, when retracted, is a window with a clear view of the outside world. The outside world is reality, but not reality; it is effectively alluded to as fantasy and so the bubble of luxury remains secure. 

Despite the practical concerns that characterize all aspects of 56 Leonard, the essential outcome is an artistic expression that fulfills the artists’ general purpose “to break down the lethargy with which architecture is usually perceived.” [7] A forthcoming “Cloud Gate” sculpture from artistic collaborator Anish Kapoor designated for placement near the main entrance, fit for residents and passersby alike to contemplate, will soon address similar ideas of disruption, perspective, and reality.

The name “Jenga” is a testament to the building’s ability to be disruptive—to be not just noticed, but also contemplated. 56 Leonard is filled with tension, paradox, and irony from inside out. As such, it is a fitting addition to the multifaceted complexity of New York City. It will act as a haven of denial for some, while winking at the other 99% with a helpful reminder: Those on the inside may or may not have the best view.

Sources:

[1] Curtis, Modern Architecture Since 1900, Third Edition, p. 70

[2] Jacques Herzog, Jean-François Chevrier: Ornament, Structure, Space. A Conversation with Jacques Herzog. https://www.herzogdemeuron.com/index/projects/writings.html

[3] Curtis, p. 168

[4] Lecture held by Jacques Herzog at the Anyway Conference in Barcelona, 1993. https://www.herzogdemeuron.com/index/projects/writings.html

[5] https://www.herzogdemeuron.com/index/projects/complete-works/301-325/305-56-leonard-street.html

[6] Ibid.

[7] Ornament, Structure, Space. A Conversation with Jacques Herzog. 

A skyscraper that fragments the clouds above Tribeca stands at 56 Leonard Street and is nicknamed the Jenga tower. The neighborhood's tallest building, it rises in a seemingly unsteady manner to a height of 821 feet, or 57 stories total. The nickname “Jenga” makes clear how it is perceived by the casual observer, with a certain level of uncertainty. As in the game by the same name, block shapes are stacked atop one another in an offset manner creating the appearance of instability. 56 Leonard, apropos to our time, is a building full of ironies.

Designed by world-renowned Pritzker Prize winning architectural firm Herzog & de Meuron (HDM), directed by Jacques Herzog and Pierre de Meuron, it was completed in 2017. In order to understand the building and its significance, it helps to place it within the context of some of the firm’s other works, and within their philosophical approach to design. 

HDM’s approach reflects some of the core threads of modern architectural thinking hearkening back to artists such as Adolf Loos and Le Corbusier. But as one might expect of 21st Century architects, they have built upon and expanded this thinking to accommodate our contemporary struggles.

Like Loos, HDM rejects frivolous ornamentality, but they would argue with his pretentious statement that “To seek beauty only in form and not in ornament is the goal to which all humanity is striving.” [1] Rather than elevate one above the other, or obliterate one with the other, HDM seeks a melding of the two whereby the form becomes the ornament and vice versa. In their view, ornament and form materialize from an idea; the two function together seamlessly to create an intended experience. Herzog says: “I am not particularly interested in either structure or ornament or space as such. Things start to get interesting when you bring all these elements together in a single thing, and if you can experience it, by moving through the building, by using it.” [2] 

HDM eschews rules and categories choosing instead to focus on purpose. While they may agree with Corbusier’s sentiments on the power of a purposeful arrangement of forms: “by forms and shapes [the architect] affects our senses to an acute degree…” [3], they would dismiss his five principle points as limiting and inapplicable to contemporary culture. 

Despite the intellectual heft of their approach, HDMs architectural methodology is largely practical, given shape primarily by basic concerns like context/location, intended use, and available resources. These concerns have propelled a vast array of building types and structures all over the world, utilizing both modern and traditional materials—and very often a mix. In Herzog’s own words: “All that we have ever designed comes from observation and description… This is why our buildings are each so different from one another. Because we turn our heads in different directions, the buildings arise from changing perceptions.” [4]

The plan for 56 Leonard grew out of a desire to make a skyscraper that avoided the repetitive and often impersonal compartmental spaces that arise from typical vertical building designs, of which New York has many. “Typical residential towers, while successful in aggregating the living unit, often fail to improve upon the living environment. The multiplication of units within simple extruded shapes produces repetitive and anonymous structures with no extra benefits or architectural qualities despite the incredible densities they achieve.” [5] 

Serving an exclusive clientele of those who can consider apartment prices starting at roughly five to upwards of fifty million, HDM realized that the residents would want to feel distinguished. By stacking blocks of different volumes at different relations to one another, what HDM calls “the strategy of pixelating,” they were able to create unique living spaces with a variety of views. According to the architects, only 5 out of the total 145 apartments are repetitions. Each floor plane is entirely unique. 

The careful calculation in the situation of living spaces relative to each other has produced a skyscraper that distinguishes itself from the inside out. The residents enjoy uniquely planned living experiences while the city at large enjoys a skyscraper that pushes the boundaries of its archetype and adds interest to the skyline. 

Utilizing readily available materials common to construction in and around New York City in provocative ways, with asymmetrical structural elements and balconies cantilevering in all directions, the architects admit that their structure stands “at the very edge of what is structurally possible.” [6] This technical prowess sets the Jenga building apart in a potentially subversive manner and is perhaps why the game-inspired name has stuck. 

Regardless of the architects’ feelings about the label "Jenga," they are surely aware that their work produces a certain level of uncertainty, even potentially, unease. Comparisons have been made to the MahaNakhon building in Bangkok, another skyscraper with a pixilated appearance. Both works recall ideas such as fragmentation, disintegration, and collapse.

This is an inherent irony of 56 Leonard: a distinguished structure for an über-elite population that draws attention to vulnerability. It is notable that the degree of structural offset, and therefore of vulnerability, is at its maximum with the highest and most expensive units. Knowing this, it is difficult to avoid reflecting on the implications of the extreme economic inequalities of our time.  

The way HDM has chosen to describe their building in information-age rhetoric as a system of “pixelation” is also revealing. A pixel is a unit of measurement, and by definition the same size as any other pixel in a given display. The “pixel” units in the Jenga tower however are a variety of different sizes, which suggests disruption and disorganization.

A digital image retains its integrity and coherence by the exact relationship of the same-sized pixels to each other. When one pixel goes renegade, the image is interrupted. When many defect, the image becomes confusing and indecipherable. By erecting a pixelated “system” of different dimensions, the architects conjure a paradox and prompt us to think about the nature of digital images as a ruse: this alludes to the uncertainty of technology, even of reality. The reflective nature of the glass façade underscores this questioning of reality as it reflects the outside world in a fragmented state.

56 Leonard is a "Gesamtkunstwerk," or total work of art. As with the structure and facade, HDM has imbued the building's interior with meaning. They have designed every detail with purposefulness, making them “functional” and effectively merging ornament with form. On the inside, large concrete pillars in the common areas convey a sense of stability and control. A hallway with a spiral staircase and a massive column that spans two levels recalls the corridors of Corbusier’s Centrosoyuz, the government building in Moscow, with an almost punitive irony. (The two buildings also share a distinct focus on glass and concrete.) 

Contrasted with the austere nature of the concrete surfaces are more fanciful elements that echo the pixelated nature of the facade, but in a less disruptive way. In the pool area for example, the walls glitter with thousands of small, like-size metallic tiles—a reflective, fragmented surface arranged in an organized manner. Perhaps they are intended to nudge occupants toward self-reflection; the irony being that their images are returned to them in a broken format. 

The theater is another deft execution of artistic irony and purposeful design. As one would expect, it is an appropriately dark room with rows of seats facing a screen; except the screen, when retracted, is a window with a clear view of the outside world. The outside world is reality, but not reality; it is effectively alluded to as fantasy and so the bubble of luxury remains secure. 

Despite the practical concerns that characterize all aspects of 56 Leonard, the essential outcome is an artistic expression that fulfills the artists’ general purpose “to break down the lethargy with which architecture is usually perceived.” [7] A forthcoming “Cloud Gate” sculpture from artistic collaborator Anish Kapoor designated for placement near the main entrance, fit for residents and passersby alike to contemplate, will soon address similar ideas of disruption, perspective, and reality.

The name “Jenga” is a testament to the building’s ability to be disruptive—to be not just noticed, but also contemplated. 56 Leonard is filled with tension, paradox, and irony from inside out. As such, it is a fitting addition to the multifaceted complexity of New York City. It will act as a haven of denial for some, while winking at the other 99% with a helpful reminder: Those on the inside may or may not have the best view.

Sources:

[1] Curtis, Modern Architecture Since 1900, Third Edition, p. 70

[2] Jacques Herzog, Jean-François Chevrier: Ornament, Structure, Space. A Conversation with Jacques Herzog. https://www.herzogdemeuron.com/index/projects/writings.html

[3] Curtis, p. 168

[4] Lecture held by Jacques Herzog at the Anyway Conference in Barcelona, 1993. https://www.herzogdemeuron.com/index/projects/writings.html

[5] https://www.herzogdemeuron.com/index/projects/complete-works/301-325/305-56-leonard-street.html

[6] Ibid.

[7] Ornament, Structure, Space. A Conversation with Jacques Herzog.