Garden of the Hesperides, color version by thesouthernroute

From the series "Manhattan by the bird", by Regis Boileau Golden Camera 2013 for best professional photographer in architecture Professional World photography Organisation award 2013 ____________________________________ Garden where immortality blossoms above men. Today in New york city, iron cliffs are our apple trees in which we pick our perpetuity. Let's leave Hera behind and fly above the bank of the East river of Manhattan, not far from the South Street seaport. Between a banker over there, looking at Brooklyn, and me with my boots, is the expresso I can't drink in the helicopter (and more Franklins in my pocket). The distinction with uptown Manhattan is the age of the urban planning: the streets below are damned narrow. But since there is a big rock below able to carry the extravaganzas of architects, you will find in these blocks some skyscrapers as high as in the surroundings of the Empire State Building. Now starts the class entitled "All buildings are not all the same". First, you see on the down right corner the Wedding Cake building on 120 Wall street (1930, Art Deco with setback style, by Ely Jacques Kahn ). I like it since it's a bit unusual and usually peps me up. It's a kind of ugly duckling abused by his post-modernist siblings. But hey, look, it's a beautiful facade! On the same row, the vertical white stripped tower is owned by Citygroup (1966, International Style, by Carson Lundin). Further is an awful box proudly called the 1 Financial Square. It's dated since it's dated back from a period so tough on all arts that it's pitiful (1987, Post-modernism, by the culprit Edward Durell Stone). Behind these strong fellows is a tiny but lovely, proud but crushed, white building with terraces nicknamed with imagination the 99 Wall street (1931, Art Deco, by Schwartz & Gross). Last but (not) least, the formless black "blob" (for film buff, and it's brown when in colors) at the top right corner: the Andaz Wall street hotel from a year you know by now I'm not a big fan (1987, Modern, by the culprit Welton Becket). via 500px http://j.mp/1oPf6Bd