“Top of the world, Ma,” Jimmy Cagney crowed just before being blown to smithereens atop an exploding gas storage tank in the 1949 gangster film “White Heat.” He might have been any one of a number of architects and developers-not to mention prospective tenants-whose imaginations lean toward what Shakespeare once called “the cloud-capped towers, the gorgeous palaces.”
That people have always sought a higher vantage point is nothing new. During the late 1980s, Mark Segal, a photographer whose studio occupies the top floor of the Carbide and Carbon Building, remembers that he organized a club whose members met every Wednesday for lunch on the roof of a different downtown skyscraper.
Segal recalls the club’s lunch sites: “We did the Stone Container Building, Pure Oil, the Lincoln Tower-basically any building where we could scam our way onto the roof.”
And why? “For the fun of it,” he says. “For the view and the adventure.”
Last summer, we did part one of this article, where we looked at what was at the top of six downtown buildings-Britannica Center, the Wrigley Building, First United Methodist Church, 35 East Wacker Drive (the Jewelers Building), Two Prudential Plaza and the Chicago Title and Trust Center. This summer, we wrap it up with five new entries and then wait for the next downtown building boom.
What have we learned? Well, in general, the extravagant post-modern creations that went up in the ’80s tend to be less than scintillating inside. The tops of these buildings invariably are occupied by water tanks and elevator systems. But if you want individuality and quirkiness, the buildings from the 1920s and earlier are the ones to look at. And here they are:
CARBIDE AND CARBON
230 NORTH MICHIGAN AVENUE
Is it or isn’t it? A champagne bottle, that is. Numerous articles about the Carbide and Carbon Building make the point that the top resembles an exploding bottle of bubbly. Is this intentional? No one seems to know.
The building, which was completed in 1929, is flawless art deco-a green terra cotta facade that over the years has turned a sooty black, and a top that appears to have been dipped in liquid gold. It’s dramatic, all right. The top also includes a 50-foot campanile topped with a beacon that has been dark for many years. Lawrence Hearn of the Hearn Company, the manager of the building, says there has been talk of rewiring the beacon, but that so far the costs outweigh the perceived benefits.
The building is 39 stories tall, with the top floor occupied by elevator machinery. The 38th is rented out to commercial photographer Mark Segal. Segal took over the space earlier this year after waiting half a dozen years for the previous tenant-an architect-to move out.
Segal shoots cityscapes for commercial clients-including the opening skyline shots for a number of local news broadcasts-and says the building gives him a competitive advantage. “I’ve shot from the windows and from the roof and no one else has that vantage point,” he says.
311 SOUTH WACKER DRIVE
Like it or hate it-and there are strong opinions on both sides of the aisle-311 is probably the most distinctive addition to the skyline since the Sears Tower. The late Paul Gapp, while he was architecture critic for the Tribune, called the top “overdone to the point of boorishness.” Ouch. Why not just say that the building, which was completed in 1991, represents the high-water mark of postmodern exuberance in Chicago?
What are those cylinders up there and where did they come from? According to William Pedersen of Kohn Pedersen Fox, the New York architect who designed the building, “The inspiration comes from the geometry of the building itself. The top summarizes the intentions of the building as a whole.”
Which, translated, I think means that he doesn’t know where the idea came from.
The building is 70 stories tall and is the fourth tallest in the city. The highest occupied floor is 65, and “anything above 68 is just for looks,” says Mick Brady, the building’s engineer.
The four smaller cylinders are on 66 and sit atop enormous water cooling tanks and fan systems.
The main cylinder is 70 feet tall, and with a diameter of 62 feet. What’s in there? There are four floors, all made of unfinished concrete, and all are pretty much empty. The exception is 69, which has a basketball hoop; once in a while the building’s maintenance staff plays an occasional pickup game up there. But only occasionally-the cylinder has neither heat nor air conditioning and thus is unusable for a good part of the year.
What the cylinder does have, however, are lights. Lots of them. Lining the frosted glass walls are more than 1,500 fluorescent tubes. And, as anyone arriving in Chicago at night knows, the glow can be overwhelming. The lights, which are activated by a single computer-controlled switch, are usually on until midnight, but during bird migration seasons, they go off at 10 p.m. to avoid mass avian carnage.
HOTEL INTER-CONTINENTAL
505 NORTH MICHIGAN AVENUE
The Inter-Continental, which began in the 1920s as the Medinah Athletic Club, was postmodern a good half century before the term was invented. According to a description in a Masonic magazine of the period, “The architect has combined that which represents the oriental and occidental into a structure so unusual and beautiful that it is no small wonder that students of architecture come here to study. . . .”
And to giggle. The Inter-Continental may not be great architecture, but it’s perfect kitsch, from the Moorish columns in the lobby to the gilded onion dome at the summit.
And what is that odd chimney-like structure next to the dome? Evidently it was once a minaret and may also have been Chicago’s only docking facility for dirigibles. In its files, the hotel has an amazing photo dating from the 1930s of a blimp tying up at the dome.
The Inter-Continental, completed in 1929, is 42 stories tall, not including the dome. The dome, which looks so fragile from the street, is actually made of concrete and is open at the top. Inside is a glass cupola that resembles the top of a lighthouse, and a small outdoor observation deck.
Just below the dome is a small room that obviously was once a hallway and an elevator landing, but has been transformed into a charming hotel room complete with balconies facing east and west. The door to the dome-as in a fairy tale-is located at the back of the clothes close.
Don’t ask if you can stay there, however.
For a number of reasons-insurance being the most important-the only people who get to use it are hotel executives.
TRIBUNE TOWER
435 NORTH MICHIGAN AVENUE
In 1995, when the first part of this series appeared, the number one comment was: “Why didn’t you do the Tribune Tower?” Good question. There was plenty of speculation about what was up there.
The most intriguing rumor was that the tower was occupied by longtime publisher Col. Robert R. McCormick’s office, and that Tribune management had left it untouched since his death more than 40 years ago.
The truth isn’t half that romantic. The Tower, completed in 1925, is 36 stories tall. At the very top are an old copper cupola and an observation deck. The cupola is covered with old tourist graffiti. (Note to Bob and Marianne: Your note from Aug. 25, 1949, is still there.) There are also some old loudspeakers that give the cupola the appearance of an approaching tug boat. The speakers are the remnants of an electronic bell carillon disconnected several years ago.
The deck was a major tourist attraction until the 1960s. Today, the only people allowed up are technicians, who install and maintain antennas and satellite dishes atop the cupola.
The floors below the deck-33 and 34-are occupied by a winding staircase. Below them, 32 is the highest occupied floor; it’s rented to an architect. The most dramatic floor, 25, is surrounded by an open-air terrace and five-story flying buttresses.The floor is being renovated for use as general office space.
Col. McCormick’s former 24th floor office had a working fireplace. The Tribune is turning the floor into a conference room-complete with that fireplace.
