No decks, no problem
Spots to view San Francisco’s beauty abound despite lack of sky-high observation towers
San Francisco is many things. Here’s what it is not: a city with many perches where, for the cost of an elevator ride or an overpriced Chardonnay, mere mortals can look down on downtown.
I count only three remaining top-floor venues where you can buy a drink, at least in the districts east of Van Ness Avenue. And in an age where sky-high decks in Chicago and New York are hot tickets, we come up short. But the reason, I suspect, is as simple as this: People here have better things to do down on the ground.
“The things San Franciscans want to show me when I visit have nothing to do with tall buildings, except the pointed
one,” said Leo Jeffres, a professor emeritus at Cleveland State University and board member of the Urban Communication Foundation. “It’s not about height, it’s about cool.”
Jeffres was relaxing with several colleagues this month in one of the aeries that remain accessible, the View Lounge on the 39th floor of the Marriott Marquis at Fourth and Mission streets. They were at the hotel for the annual conference of the Association for Education in Journalism and Mass Communication, and I had suggested a drink up high because I’ve been wondering what San Francisco communicates by a lack of vantage points such as this.
Unimpressive outlook
It’s a question that popped up last month when several Chronicle subscribers and I visited the marketing center for the new Salesforce Tower. Next year, that building will start its climb next to the new Transbay Transit Center at First and Mission streets, and when it opens it will be a high-rising 1,070 feet — 218 feet taller than the Transamerica Pyramid (a.k.a. “the pointed one”). On hand was Bob Pester, regional manager of Boston Properties, which is developing the tower along with another developer, Hines. One subscriber asked Pester if there would be a public viewing platform at the crown, and the answer was a polite but succinct “no.”
From one perspective, this might seem unjust. The tower site is formerly state-owned land. It’s taking advantage of up-zoning done to generate money for Transbay 2.0. So why shouldn’t we all be allowed to take a peek?
The rebuttal would be, we’ve had the chance. And we weren’t impressed.
For instance, did you know there used to be an observation deck on the 27th floor of the Transamerica Pyramid? It was there from shortly after opening day in 1972 until 1993. The only sizable reference in The Chronicle is a 1976 article about a visit by an eighth-grade class: “It’s so commercial,” shrugged one. “So tacky. I’m a woods person myself.”
Can’t say I ever went myself; the high-rise hot spot I remember from college days was Equinox, the revolving restaurant atop the Hyatt Regency at the Embarcadero Center above Market Street. Food and drink were secondary to the 45-minute spin that revealed a 360degree panorama of the city. Reached via a glass elevator in a pyramidal atrium, no less!
Totally rad. Until it dawned on us that a snail’s pace merrygo-round ride wasn’t futuristic, it was ... hokey. The Equinox closed in 2007.
Other penthouse-level pubs have come and gone. The Westin St. Francis and the Grand Hyatt at Union Square turned their top floors into event space; so has the Hilton not far to the west. The Carnelian Room on the 52nd floor of 555 California St. turned off the lights in 2009; the space is now leased to a software firm.
This leaves us the Starlight Room at the Sir Francis Drake and Nob Hill’s Top of the Mark, part of the city’s cultural heritage since it was the last social stop for soldiers heading to the Pacific theater during World War II and the Korean War.
Back to observation decks, or lack thereof. We actually had an outdoor one at Embarcadero Center from 1996, two years before Boston Properties bought the multi-tower complex, until 2000. That’s when Pester pulled the plug: “It was losing $600,000, $700,000 a year.”
Despite this, Boston Properties looked hard at a Salesforce Tower public summit after buying into the project in 2012. If nothing else, the success of elaborate observation decks atop the Empire State Building in New York and Chicago’s Sears Tower (now Willis Tower) show that they can draw crowds.
Alas, the logistics were daunting.
“We actually hired a consultant, but couldn’t find a way to make it work” and make a profit, Pester recalled. “The tower was already designed. ... You’d want a separate elevator bank. You also need room on the ground where hundreds of people can stand in line.”
So much for public access. But consider: It costs $19.95 to ascend to the 103rd floor Skydeck in Chicago. The spaces atop the Empire State Building, or the new observatory at One World Trade Center, are ticketed attractions that start at $32.
In San Francisco, meanwhile, there’s no charge to scale the Filbert steps, taking in an evermore-revelatory view wrapped in the colors and fragrances of the surrounding gardens. Russian Hill’s Ina Coolbrith Park comes with benches and grass. The 360-degree show at Grand View Park above the Sunset lives up to its name.
Hit the ground walking
The west side of town also has the architectural aerie that locals have embraced: Hamon Observation Tower at the de Young Museum. It’s a 144-foothigh nest above the trees of Golden Gate Park, the city’s low grid unfurled beyond. There’s no admission charge and no security check-in. The elevators are off a shadowy concrete den adorned with ethereal wire sculptures by Ruth Asawa.
Most big cities make their own geography, hanging their visual images on architectural peaks that demand to be scaled. Here? Not so.
Sure, the view is terrific from the 39th floor lounge of the Marriott Marquis. But all it really does it whet your appetite to return downstairs and begin to explore the terrain on your own two feet.