The Tallest Waste of Money in America

The only differences between the tallest, most expensive penthouse in America and the average new-build is the view and price.

Two days ago, YouTube suggested to me the announcement video for Central Park Tower’s penthouse. Currently, the condominium is listed for sale at $250 million by Ryan Serhant, who gave a tour of the ‘luxurious’ home. This penthouse is the highest home ever listed for sale in the United States and one of the most expensive listings ever. The penthouse stretches over 17,545 square feet, with 7 bedrooms, 8 bathrooms, 3 powder rooms, 2 kitchens, a private ballroom, and a private terrace. Yet, for its price tag, it really isn’t much at all. Its design is blank; its layout is mediocre; and its furnishings are no different from any other listing. The only thing that sets it apart from the average American newly built home is its view.

When the video started, I rather quickly noted the smooth grey walls, as inoffensive as they are common. The baseboards are so simple that they seem to be little more than a painted 1x4. The windows, though massive, appear trashy, since the hardware interrupts the view at odd moments. Elsewhere in the house, the window cranks appear to be made of white plastic, with little different from the apartments my friends rented in college. The oppressively-dark library’s shelving is not flush and has visible seams that are slightly off-center of the room and its large desk.

The “grand” ballroom is perhaps the most disappointing. I cannot help but think that it resembles a church’s multi-purpose room or a convention center hall. The room is chopped in half by a purposeless overhang. Perhaps if there was an interior balcony looking down on half the ballroom it could be justified, but as is, it’s simply hideous.

Serhant claims the grand staircase can be seen from space multiple states when it is lit up. I had to rewind the video four times to be able to see it in a drone shot… granted, it was not lit up, but I was not impressed with its size when I finally found it. Frankly, I doubt the claim.

The entire penthouse, taken together, leaves me with a profound sense that everything was selected to be as bland and noncommittal as possible. There are so few risks taken that I am inclined to believe an insurance actuary drew it up.

The bathrooms, kitchen, and master bedroom were alone in having anything that suggests effort, but even these are more a sign of sloth than genius. The master bedroom’s wallpaper is reminiscent of a sandy beach, which is completely inappropriate for a Manhattan penthouse. The kitchen cabinets, though of a highly-polished wood, lack depth and make the already small kitchen feel like a box. The island makes the kitchen U-shaped, impeding any flow. There is very little counter space to work on. The master bathroom’s blocky black and white stone is simply lazy.

Only the Steinway piano really stood out to me as beautiful. The enamel-like black paint so smoothly gracing the elegant curve is always a statement of supreme craftsmanship and taste. It was also completely out of place in the penthouse, an island of refinement among a storm of harsh lines and overwhelming views.

Ultimately, overwhelming seems to be the purpose of the house. Nothing inside complements the views or really lends anything to the comfort of the owners. Every single room, however, will dazzle visitors with the staggering wealth (and stupidity) of the resident.

More broadly, the layout of the penthouse is of an inferior quality. I was struck how every room seemed to be either too big, too small, or too narrow. In the age of the “open concept,” there is nothing open at all. This is partially because everything must be built around the central elevator shafts and superstructure. Six elevator shafts pass through all three levels, per the floor plans. Some math based on the floor plans shows that just under 1,980 square feet is consumed by the ballroom. Another 2,730 square feet are dedicated to sittings rooms. At least 1,000 square feet more is taken up by hallways. That leaves about 11,850 square feet for 7 bedrooms, 11 bathrooms, 2 studies, 2 full kitchens, 5 walk-in closets, a private gym, a large dining room, and two storage closets. That leaves an average of 423 square feet per room. Since every room is cut off from every other room, this starts to feel cramped really fast.

The monthly taxes and COA fees add up to about $68,000 a month or $820,000 a year. Though that is nothing compared to the overall estimated monthly cost of $1,385,500.

So why does it cost so damn much?

I didn’t want to be too hard on Serhant. So I took a look at some other videos on his channel. I found that many homes, for quite a lot less, featured much greater marks of quality, even if they were modernist monstrosities. This newly-built Hamptons mansion, for $150 million, features high-end specialized refrigerators, very well laid tile and stone, luxurious and carefully thought-out lighting, highly-polished steel and wood. What’s more, the walls and doors are painted and designed to create a cohesive feel to different parts of the house. I would not buy this house either, but if you put a gun to my head and made me pick between the two, I’d pick the Hamptons house, hands down.

So how is so much more luxury packed into a house that’s $100 million less? The answer, I believe, comes at the very end: the Hamptons house is 8,000 square feet smaller. It also is 1,400 feet closer to the ground. If the builders had split the penthouse in two, they likely could have put more effort into two units that would have sold for much more than $125 million. Instead, the desire to create the largest, best penthouse in the country has left it hollow and without character.

It tries to be a modern palace yet comes off more as a succession of boxes and observation decks. It is an incarnation of all the sins of modernist art: minimalism, a lack of curvature, a disdain for proportion, apathy towards humans, and an obsession with “boldness.” All told, it is a palace fit only for a king of Schizopolis.

We shall see who claims the crown…

It is still listed for sale as of publication.