The fund, which is aimed at helping members of the theater community impacted by the COVID-19 pandemic, has already surpassed $2 million in donations thanks to a previous match pledged by producers including Scott Rudin, Jeffrey Seller and David Stone. She's busy, mom.A new group of producers has stepped up to match $1 million in donations to Broadway Cares/Equity Fights AIDS’ COVID-19 Emergency Assistance Fund. Next week the commission will designate a swathe of Harlem. Raab added modern icons like the Ford Foundation and CBS's headquarters at 51 West 52nd Street. Along with pet projects like Bridgemarket beneath the Queensboro Bridge, Ms. This year the commission has registered 22 sites and has 7,000 more applications to check. Raab, who lives in a 1929 stucco house in Riverdale, the Bronx, with her husband and 7-year-old daughter. ''She pointed out that the Empire State Building was already a landmark, and Grand Central, so what was there left to do,'' says Ms. Raab's mother expressed some alarm at the appointment: how would her go-getter daughter, the first family member to graduate from college, first female associate at Cravath, Swaine & Moore to wear pants to the office, keep busy? Macklowe) but also make converts of the preservation-wary.
Raab had the tools to not only stave off the wolves at the door (developers like Mr. With a litigator's gift of glib and spin, Ms. Giuliani suggested she might make a perfect chairwoman for Landmarks: a preservationist with a pulse. In 1994, again ignoring party politics, Mr. Giuliani, who struck her as John Lindsay-ish in his eagerness to play white knight to the city. Koch, of whom she had tired, to be the Democratic nominee.) She stayed the course with Mr. Not even when she found herself backing Mr. Raab, an upwardly mobile product of working-class Washington Heights, a confirmed city girl who was 35 when she learned to drive and wore heels every day of her undergraduate exile upstate at Cornell - ''No down parkas for me!'' - never worried about defying odds. Raab is a workaholic who got around before and since picking up her Harvard law degree: the South Bronx Development Organization, the City Planning Department, two law firms, Manhattan's Community Board 5, Joseph Rose's Senate campaign. ''It's the only job I can think of where I never minded Monday mornings,'' she says. She loves her job, loves the psychic charge - not to mention the ego boost - from making decisions that will impact ''the built city'' forever. ''Grand Central would either be gone or have a tower on top of it, and do you think Greenwich Village would all be rows of charming brownstones? I don't think so.'' New York without a Landmarks Commission? She shudders to think, then does: ''They tore down Penn Station it's gone forever,'' she says. To those who complain that the commission, particularly its 44-year-old chairwoman, guards landmarks with the bark and bite of junkyard dogs, well, bow wow. Raab, whose agency keeps the 2 percent of city property under its jurisdiction pristine. ''People who say the preservationists are going to stop the growth of this city are dead wrong,'' insists Ms. Raab is a lawyer, so builder beware: her client - be it a brownstone, a bridge, a water tower, a geriatric tree - is always innocent. When he wondered if he could gild the roof, she set him straight on that, too. She has Donald Trump's ear: when he bought 40 Wall Street (buildings over 30 years old can be registered), she nixed the garish marble he sought for renovations and steered him toward an appropriate gray granite with the sympathetic savvy of a woman helping a color-blind spouse select a suit.
On Tuesday the house joined the 22,000 sites on the landmarks list. She has Harry Macklowe by the short hairs because the final piece of the puzzle at his blockbuster on Second Avenue and 53rd Street happened to be a tiny tinderbox relic built in 1866: ''I appealed to his conscience - and his sense of public relations,'' she says, chuckling about her strategy. When Citibank tried to erect a 16-story bully on the corner of 91st and Madison, she pulled the plug on the project until the developers shrink it into harmony with its surroundings.
She has Woody Allen in her debt because her sepia-toned vision of the historic Carnegie Hill street where he lives - cue the clarinets - is right in step with his. Neighborhood character, architectural integrity: tamper with them and you answer to her honor them and she's a friend forever.
Raab cuts skyscrapers, and even arrogant moguls of the real estate rat race, down to size. AS chairwoman of the New York City Landmarks Preservation Commission, Jennifer J.
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