Nic Stone

In the shadows of Manhattan on Roosevelt Island, a building lies in wait. Insatiable foliage has taken over its walls and surrounds, while inside timber offers support to slouching balconies and scaffolding props up neglected walls. Wind courses through the many holes and openings as the structure succumbs to the resignation of decay, while multi-million dollar apartments and office buildings peer mockingly across the East River at their neighbor.

But there is an elegance and attractiveness about the crumbling building that make it in some ways more beautiful, and in many ways more interesting, than the structures that stare across at it. It is in its abandonment and in its dilapidation that the Smallpox Hospital on Roosevelt Island has found a great and unique new role that seems to be emerging in many cities.

Opened in 1856, the hospital on the southern tip of the island was once one of many public institutions built to care for New York City’s unfortunate and destitute. It was designed by architect James Renwick Jr., who also designed St. Patrick’s Cathedral on Fifth Avenue. When it was used to house those suffering from smallpox, the lower floors of the hospital were used for charity cases and the paying inpatients would stay in private rooms on the upper floors. At its height in the late 19th Century, an annual number of 7,000 patients were treated, with an average of 450 deaths. But the patients left and so then did its purpose.

Now, the Smallpox Hospital provides its own interpretations of beauty from its purgatory that provides a welcome counterpoint to garish and grandiose new structures that grow around it.

This type of building, the urban ruin, is a critical new part of the cityscape and is developing a committed and large group of fans. Forgotten Detroit, Abandoned Berlin and Abandoned New York are all groups or people that run websites dedicated to the exploration of the forgotten and falling buildings in their cities. Photographer Ian Ference makes a living from selling photographs of abandoned buildings in New York. He also draws heavily from the work of Richard Nickel, who campaigned for the preservation of these types of buildings in the face of relentless urban renewal in Chicago.

The common reaction to crumbling buildings is to repair them, like a middle-aged person getting plastic surgery and wearing that old dress or tuxedo. But that never seems quite right. What happened to aging gracefully?

Too often these gems fall in to the hands of developers and moguls who would like nothing better than to turn them into apartments. Or better yet, apartments with walk in wardrobes. But the fact that the Smallpox Hospital has remained in limbo is a testament to its beauty and the power that this type of building can have.

The structure today is still is three-floors high, with a main central chamber and a North and South wing. Only the gray exterior and foundations remain; there is no roof, the inner walls have all crumbled and all the windows sit without panes. The building is falling in on itself and the formerly flawlessly carved stone exterior is now covered by small spray-painted jellyfish, yet it exudes peacefulness. It provides a welcome juxtaposition to the modernity around it. There is also a fantasy and mysticism about the hospital, which is best captured at night as yellow spotlights give it an eerie glow that piques your imagination. The evocative nature of these ruins is one of their most treasured characteristics.

As the building falls further into disrepair, it becomes increasingly interesting in a city that is renowned for its phallic pursuit of the sky and ravenous urban development. It stands in defiance and the city should be thankful. The abandoned Smallpox Hospital has taken on this role as a monument to times gone by. A place where the mind can wander and the gothic revival design can be appreciated.

It is not easy to be a friend of decay. Cities, it seems, are constantly looking to update and clean their wounds. The longer the cavernous skeleton of the building remains staring defiantly across the East River to Manhattan, the better. To explore these buildings is a treat.

Imagination, beauty and possibilities are the currency of their decay.