Exploring New York: Shadows of the Original Trial of the Century

The man whose architecture ushered in the American Renaissance would ultimately come to symbolize decadence.

When I mention "the Trial of the Century" people generally assume I'm talking about the OJ Simpson trial, and the name Stanford White doesn't usually mean very much to them. It should though (and if it doesn't anything to you either, I encourage you to read "The Girl on the Velvet Swing"). You see, long before a back Ford Bronco made its famous dash for the border and into our shared consciousness, there was another "Trial of the Century." On the surface these two trials have a lot in common, both featuring the fall of prominent public figures, jealousy, murder and subsequent media frenzies. But scratching the surface reveals very different stories.

Stanford White seems to have had two passions. The first, for architecture, is the one that brought him wealth and fame. The second, for sexual deviance with an emphasis on corrupting young women, is the one that got him murdered - shot three times at point blank range during a play at the old Madison Square Gardens by Harry Thaw, who claimed that White had ruined his wife, model and actress Evelyn Nesbit. Spectators at first applauded, thinking it was one of White's pranks, but after a few moments, once they realized what they had just witnessed, panic erupted.

I'll leave off there, as the purpose of my post isn't to rehash the sordid story, which you are more than welcome to explore elsewhere. Rather, I wanted to see what remnants of White's rise and fall I could find in and around Midtown Manhattan.

I started off by walking to 160 Fifth Avenue, the old offices of McKim, Mead and White. J.P. Morgan, the Astors and the Vanderbilts were just a few of the many prominent clients served by the firm. Other projects included the triumphal arch at Washington Square, the Cable Building, the Bowery Savings Bank, the Judson Memorial Church, the Gould Memorial Library and the same Second Madison Square Garden where White met his end. One can imagine in the days following White's murder, his partners rummaging through his desk full of drafts and documents, seeking out any incriminating evidence that could damage the reputation of the firm and their own careers. Today though, you won't find any traces of the once great firm at what used to be their offices - just a Club Monaco on the first floor.

From there I took a short walk to 22 West 24th Street, which was the site of White's sex crimes. What Nesbit once described as a lavish love nest with heavy re velvet curtains as well as the infamous swing with red velvet ropes and ivy-styled green similax, is today just a gap between buildings.

Not finding any remnants of the seedier side of the story, I turned my attention instead to the higher qualities of White's legacy, with a visit to Washington Square Arch in Greenwich Village. Modeled after the Arc de Triomphe to commemorate the centennial of George Washington's presidential inauguration, it is the structure for which White should be most remembered for, according to his great-grandson.

There's one other physical trace of White's story, which I plan to see in an upcoming visit, not to New York but to the Philadelphia Museum of Art, to see the Golden Gal of Old Madison Square Garden. Once marking the highest point in the city, the nude statue of Diana with her bow drawn, is all that remains of the Beaux Arts masterpiece that White brought to life - and the very same building in which his own life ended violently.