Needle in the Sky

In Manhattan, a 45-story office building would be lost in the crowd. In San Francisco it would not, especially if it were topped by a 220-ft. spire and had the overall shape of a very sharp pyramid. The building in question is the proposed $30 million head office of Transamerica Corporation. When erected, it will be the tallest building in the West, and the issues it raises go straight to the heart of one of the most vexing problems of urban planning: where should the line be drawn between private convenience and the public good, especially when the public good is as intangible as a beautiful view?

Blessed Rhythm. Transamerica is one of the country's fastest-growing conglomerates. Its holdings include such diverse companies as United Artists, Trans-International Airlines and Budget Rent-a-Car. It needs a new building where it can consolidate all its operations and provide room for anticipated expansion. The location chosen--just across the street from its beautifully restored turn-of-the-century headquarters building and right at the edge of San Francisco's financial district--is most convenient to the company's operations. But many San Franciscans, including city planners and just plain residents, strongly oppose the erection of the building, and the city has been split into pro-and anti-needlers.

The most cogent objection is to the building's location in the heart of San Francisco's "Portsmouth corridor," natural valley between Telegraph Hill and the clustered towers of lower Market Street. The valley is covered with low structures that climb up Telegraph Hill, hugging its contours and accentuating San Francisco's natural rhythm of hills and valleys. It is an area of narrow streets and small lots, and zoning authorities thought they had forestalled any skyscraper-high structure by stipulating that total floor space in new buildings could not exceed 14 times the area of the site. Transamerica outsmarted them by assembling seven parcels into a 47,000 sq.ft. lot, and Architect William Pereira devised a tapering pyramidal shape that will soar 840 ft. into the sky without violating the required standards for setbacks and floor space. Some critics do not object to the needle itself. But they fear it would set a precedent for high-rise construction in the valley that could, in time, draw a curtain of glass and steel across the face of Telegraph Hill, obliterating one of San Francisco's loveliest views and destroying the city's overall contour.

Ironically, one of the needle's chief critics is San Francisco's Planning Director Allan B. Jacobs (whose powers, however, are strictly advisory). "This is unmistakably a 'look-at-me' building that does not complement the buildings near it," he says. Architecture Critic Wolf von Eckardt questions the function of the spire: "Is [it] to stamp a Transamerica Corporation trademark on one of the most breathtaking skylines in the world?" The Northern California Chapter of the American Institute of Architects argued that Transamerica could save the skyline and fulfill all its space requirements in a building only 300 to 400 ft. high.

Despite such criticism, there is little chance that the needle will not go up. Transamerica's building has the backing of Mayor Joseph Alioto ("a very welcome addition to the city's skyline"), the San Francisco Chronicle ("will become one of the best known structures in the world"), and leading businessmen who are worried about the recent flight of major firms to less congested sites on the other side of the Bay. Last week San Francisco's Board of Supervisors removed the last obstacle to construction when it granted Transamerica the right to close off and build upon a short stretch of Merchant Street. Now Transamerica has the ground footage it needs, and construction is scheduled to start late this fall.

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In Manhattan, the city's Landmarks Preservation Commission unanimously vetoed the Penn Central Company's second bid to build a $100 million office tower above Grand Central Terminal. To build it the company would either have to destroy Grand Central's facade (a superlative example of the ornate Beaux Arts style and a splendid climax to the long sweep of lower Park Avenue) or crowd it with a bland, impersonal slab set only 30 feet behind it. Either plan, the commission ruled, was unacceptable in a city already too poor in dramatic vistas. The commission's decision is legally binding, but Penn Central is expected to contest it in the State Supreme Court.

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