Are you a multi-millionaire real estate developer looking for a large mixed-use property that is chic yet gritty, gritty yet stylish, stylish yet authentic, authentic yet upscale, upscale yet downtown, downtown yet as expensive as anything uptown, as expensive as anything uptown yet appealingly sketchy-looking? I’ve got just the building for you.
By about 5:30 p.m. on Saturday, throngs of eager New Yorkers were assembled outside 190 Bowery, hoping for access to a just-announced art show inside the 150-year-old former bank building. First Show / Last Show was celebrated as a chance for the public to see inside 190—which has been mostly inaccessible for decades—before the arrival of its new tenants. Not many people got in.
One ninety Bowery, a grimy old New York City building that sits literally at the intersection of Bowery and Spring Street, has found a chief tenant: a consortium of “luxury and fashion image-making” companies that, according to its CEO, sits “literally at the intersection of chic and gritty.” Literally a perfect match.
For decades the hulking former bank building at 190 Bowery in downtown Manhattan was stuck stubbornly sometime in the mid-1970s, covered in graffiti and oblivious to the remodeling happening around it. Recently, it was sold to a real-estate developer for $55 million, and soon it will become condos or some shit. Here's your last look inside.
Jay Maisel is suddenly a very rich man. In what the New York Daily News is calling "one of the greatest returns on investment in the history of New York City real estate," the photographer who owns and inhabits the hulking 72-room building offloaded his home to developer Aby Rosen last year. Now, the selling-price is public: $55 million—539 times more than what Maisel paid when he bought it for $102,000 in 1966. Shed a tear for old New York and read more about the graffiti-covered landmark below.
The photographer Jay Maisel has owned the enormous property at 190 Bowery since 1966, and in the years since then—as the Bowery transformed from a grimy haven for the downtrodden to a still-kinda-grimy strip of museums and boutique hotels—it stood stoic, a graffiti-covered monument to The Way it Used to Be. Now, it's finally catching up to the neighborhood.