Cool Architecture: The Woolworth Building

 Originally written on 10 June 2026

When I first brought “Billions” into my far-too-long rotation of TV series, I expected a character-focused dramedy at the intersection of politics and finance. That's also exactly what it turned out to be. But that wasn’t all that it was, because the b-roll shots of New York City interspersed throughout each episode also unexpectedly provided just the right amount of metaphorical nurturing water to sprout a long-dormant interest in architecture. 

With my adult life spent living in cities and countries where a simple walk around the neighborhood reveals awe-inspiring beauty and craftsmanship, architecture was something I appreciated but never thought about. I knew if I found a building’s style impressive or beautiful but wouldn’t be able to say why (nor would I have been interested in trying). 

So when the quick b-roll scenes repeatedly flashed the city skyline across the screen, my attention was increasingly grabbed away from the Wall Street crime storyline and instead focused on the buildings themselves. This was especially the case with those that look like they could be out of an 19th century science fiction novel. The ornate spires soaring upwards, the sharply pointed arches, or the intricate stonework framing the innumerable windows (which I later learned is referred to as tracery); it was these features that gave a slightly haunting yet aesthetically pleasing combination of the cathedrals of Europe and the skyscrapers that characterize the skyline of almost every single large American city. 

My curiosity piqued, I began a virtual exploration of New York’s remarkable buildings. One of the first to stand out for me was the Woolworth Building. Named after its financier, the building opened in Lower Manhattan the spring of 1913 after less than three years of construction. Already, these fun facts evoked an ironic bitterness in me: “if it doesn’t even take three years with early 20th century technology to build something this grand and beautiful, why do all modern buildings feel like soulless steel rectangles?”

As if preparing myself for a future policy debate where I explain why all new buildings should be required to look like this one, I learned this striking style falls into the category known as Gothic Revival or Neo-Gothic. Emerging in the late 1600s, it reached its apogee of popularity in the early 1800s, finally beginning to fade from fashion by the end of the 20th century. If one dives down the Wikipedia rabbit hole of the style, they’ll notice its prevalence primarily in Western Europe, typical of churches, cathedrals, and parliament buildings, though with a healthy number of tasteful exceptions to this generalization. 

For the Woolworth Building, beauty is certainly not only skin deep. Beyond its illustrious exterior, which earned it the nickname “the Cathedral of Commerce”, the interior contains countless gems. These range from the aesthetic touches integrated into the building’s functions, such as the elevator doors designed by Tiffany Studios, to historical anecdotes that deepen its character, like how Nikola Tesla was an early tenant but was evicted for unpaid rent. The glass mosaics or beautifully carved figures (apparently called grotesques in the architecture world), the building demonstrates a respect for detail and aesthetics that feels cast aside when exposed to modern structures of the late 20th and 21st centuries. 

                    

An elevator in the Woolworth Building and a modern elevator built and designed with cutting-edge 21st century technology, for comparison.  

Fortunately, I’m of the belief that nothing lasts forever, which includes societies’ architectural preferences. I will therefore find comfort in personally nurturing my seedling of optimism for a time when architects, city planners, financiers, and whoever else are once again inspired by things more profound than function and cost-efficiency. In the meantime, the uniqueness of the Woolworth Building and its Gothic Revival building family make it all the more special against a backdrop of flat glass rectangles and bleached minimalist interiors. But comparisons aside, the work and attention to detail shown not only by its architects, but also by the ordinary men who spent three years bringing the 57-story building from blueprints to the skyline, reveal what marvels and beauty mankind is capable of creating. And it never hurts to get reminders like that. 

Very much the "Cathedral of Commerce" in more ways than one