The model unit's dining room.

It does not number among the most gracious edifices that line Park Avenue, but now that its conversion to luxury condos is almost complete 530 Park Avenue is trying to command the same lofty prices as its more elegant neighbors.

A three-bedroom, four-bath duplex, No. 15B, has made its market debut asking $9.85 million. (A four-bedroom on a lower floor was listed for the same price in late October.) From the listing description—all baths are marble, there's a library, a formal dining room and Park Avenue views—it seems to be doing a pretty good job of aping its more elite neighbors. Although the building's new deep-pocketed residents will have to share their common space with the remaining renters protected by rent-stabilization laws.

Prestigious, but it's no 740 Park.

As of this summer, 36 renter-occupied units remained in the 116-unit building. Bianca Jagger, who recently lost her years-long battle to retain her rent controlled unit (and was ordered to pay $708, 600 in back rent and legal fees), is no longer among them. On the bright side, buyers need's placate a fussy co-op board in order to enjoy herringbone wood floors or the building's billiard table-endowed library.

No. 15B has 2,700 square feet loaded with fancy gadgets and finishes: a Subzero refrigerator, Bertazzoni oven, Wolf microwave and oven, Bosch dishwasher, Italian porcelain, crema marfil walls and "views onto Park Avenue from every window" which sounds alluring at first, but probably means that there is only one exposure. We have yet to hear back from the building's sales director Kuyomi Yamada.

We expect more units to hit the market in the coming days; according to the building's website the cheapest unit is an alcove studio just over 600 square feet that is trying to get $1.6 million and the most expensive is a sprawling spread on the third floor (it looks to be the building's largest at 3,405 square-feet) asking $11.7 million. No units are yet in contract, according to Streeteasy.com. White brick is not as looked down upon as it once was, or at least, it has good company if, as Paul Goldberger says, glass is the new white brick. Nearby Manhattan House is also counting on the construction material's renaissance.

kvelsey@observer.com

Manhattan House, that white brick behemoth on East 66th Street, is only too happy to oblige. The landmarked building, inching along in its conversion to luxury condos, has developed five new spacious layouts.

"People like space, people want space and if they can afford it, why not?" said Loretta Shanahan Bradbury, director of sales at Manhattan House. "It's not necessarily the number of people living in the apartment. It's just what they want, and if it's what they can afford, that's what they're buying."

Ms. Bradbury said that nearly 40 percent of buyers at Manhattan house were in the market for at least three-bedroom homes.

Boom times are back! People need more space for all the stuff they're busy accumulating once again. (Unless you're a renter, in which case you'll be paying much much more than ever before for a painfully small space).

"The original search for three-bedroom homes has further expanded into a desire for four-plus bedroom residences, with more space throughout the entire home," wrote Brian Fallon, president of Manhattan House.

So what are these floor plans like? They're three- and four-bedrooms ranging from 2,500 to 3,500 square feet with what has been described as expansive entertaining areas. Baths come in the threes and fours, soaking tubs are separate from the shower stalls, walk-in closets are windowed and rooms are "balconied."

Whereas some buildings the size of the multi-towered Manhattan House might have up to 15 apartments on a single floor, making them feel big and anonymous, Ms. Bradbury explained, such space-hogging layouts keep the number down to around six.

"You start to feel the privacy of your home when you get in the elevator and get off on your floor," she said.

More than 200 units of the 500+ building have been sold and renovations, meeting the ever-changing demands of the marketplace, continue apace, she told The Observer. 

We asked Ms. Bradbury what she made of this recent taste for space.

"It could be that people are staying in the city, not moving to the suburbs," she ventured. "But they want what they can get in the suburbs."

kvelsey@observer.com

Ligne Roset provided the furnishings for the evening, with trademark ruche sofas  and chairs scattered throughout the garden.  The design company also provided a bed for the event, arranged strategically beneath a low hanging tree alight with ligne roset fixtures. Guests, including self-described “beauty doctor” Dr. Lewis Feder schmoozed in the whimsical cot throughout the evening.  Dr. Feder, master of all things glamorous, chatted with us about the state of the media. He praised the Wall Street Journal’s facelift in recent years, but disparaged the New York Times for “being a little too left. Its one step left of…. Karl Marx!” Dr. Feder exclaimed.

The Hamptons Preview also had an impressive showing from the luxury interior design set. A stately dressed Paul Chapman, president of ABC Carpets, told us he was enjoying the relaxed atmosphere. “As long as there’s no poison ivy, we’re fine,” Chapman added.

Before the night was through, two other guests warned The Observer about the insidious threat of poison ivy.  Evidently unaccustomed to nature, attendees feared the worst even in Manhattan House's pristine garden.  This reporter, a California native, found herself uninformed on the subject of the perilous plant. We asked  revelers how precicely one would identify the weed. "It has three leaves," responded one guest with a haughty look.  Befuddled as before, we carefully trotted over to the food, vigilantly counting leaves and avoiding all tripartite foliage. (We later determined that the panic was overblown; not a sprig of the stuff was found.)

Mini-burgers and finger sandwiches proved a huge hit among the guests. Just as a waiter would replenish the ever disappearing supply, a hoard of hungry Hamptonites would swoop in and polish off the batch.

Guests willing to wait were treated to thirty minute massages by the Exhale spa. Mounting massage chairs situated in bowers throughout the garden, weary invitees had their backs rubbed by the Exhale professionals.

Representatives from local businesses were also in attendance, displaying their wares for all to see.  Perfumer Bond No.9 had a table featuring an arrangement of colorful New York scents. Indoor cycling company Flywheel had representatives on site with spirited demonstrations. A jazzy duo performed throughout the evening and added to the festive atmosphere.

After chatting and gossiping for a spell, guests sauntered through the palatial  lobby of Manhattan House and out onto Third Avenue.  We returned home and scrupulously checked for signs of poison ivy, finding none.  We intend to invest in a large bottle of Calamine as a precaution. You never know what sorts of things might be sprouting in the wilds of Manhattan's private gardens.

eknutsen@observer.com

He had lived in the 1900 landmark for more than a decade with his wife, the author Sarah Pomeroy, when the couple managed in 1984 to cobble together some air rights, a one-bedroom, two maids quarters and the cupola, which Mr. Pomeroy then fashioned into a home the likes of which are rare even in New York. While he would not say how much the couple paid to combine and construct the 4,000-square-foot property, Mr. Pomeroy allowed that, "You could have assembled a block on 42nd Street easier."

He also admitted it was not nearly as much as the $9.125 million the couple just sold the three-bedroom for, according to city records.

Describing the project on his Web site, Mr. Pomeroy writes "The image of Greek goddesses embedded in laminated glass doors is the focal point of this project in the historic St. Urban, one of New York City's grand old turn-of-the-century apartment buildings. A modern, light-filled, two-level penthouse has been inserted into the old mansard roof and a turreted dome." The cupola was turned into a two-story library that leads to a pocket-sized terrace. The architect, in the grand tradition of Central Park West, he said, added a light atop the turret. Two wings flow off the turret, and lead to a bronze and blonde wood kitchen. A double-height living room has huge skylights.

It has been a long saga for the home, which was first listed in April 2008 for $16.5 million before taking six prices cuts to $7.25 million in July the following year. Four days later, the price had been bumped up twice to $7.9 million before coming off the market altogether in November. Lisa Lippman and John McDermott of Brown Harris Stevens had the listing then, which never resurfaced, and Mr. McDermott told The Observer at the time, "I've been through this myself, because I renovated a townhouse downtown and it was my baby. It makes you want to have an elevated price, because it means so much to you! It started out, really, too high." Still, it looks like by holding out, the Pomeroys made out pretty well in the end.

And they still have a landmark to call home, albeit it one of a different sort. No sooner did the old penthouse close on Jan. 27 then the next day the deal was done on their new two-bedroom at the recently converted-to-condos Manhattan House. There they bought a 1,515-square-foot unit on the 11th floor of the East 66th Street complex for $2.19 million. Designed by SOM's Gordon Bunshaft, he of Lever House and 9 West 57th fame, Manhattan House is considered by many to be the first modernist apartment building in the city, still one of the finest and a prototype for generations of imitators--not unlike Lever House was to the American office building.

The Pomeroys' new home is less than half the size of their old one, and it may only have four rooms compared to nine before, but there is one thing it has: convenience. "Particularly, my wife wanted to live on the East Side, she wanted to live near her friends, clubs and particularly Hunter College, where she teaches part-time," Mr. Pomery told The Observer. "We're trying something new. It'll be different, but at least there is room for our piano and harpsichord, which are coming with us." Those will be going in the 400-square-foot great room, one imagines.

He also said the building's pedigree was appealing: "Manhattan House is an iconic structure and it's a different way to live on the East Side, than being in a townhouse or an old co-op."

Speaking of old Upper East Side co-ops, the buyer of the Pomeroys' old penthouse is A.W. Foley, who lists an address at 1 Gracie Square. His full-floor four-bedroom co-op located halfway up the 1929 building came on the market Feb. 2 with Corcoran's Deanna Kory and Christine Morgan for $4.6 million.

Read past Manhattan Transfers here. >>

mchaban [at] observer.com | @mc_nyo

"I'm also an economic man," Mr. O'Connor, in a nice blue suit and red tie, continued. "This building has had—New York has had—an up-and-down year." (Among other things, mega-broker Dolly Lenz was cut from the Manhattan House in January, when only a quarter of the building's 583 apartments had sold.) "Anybody watch Jim Cramer tonight? Jim said June 16 was the low point of the housing market! It's over!" Mr. O'Connor said. There was some scattered clapping. "The bottom is here. We're expectant that 2009 is getting stronger and 2010 will be better." He has a lot riding on it: Manhattan House is the largest condo conversion in the city's history.

"I'm an optimist. What else are you going to be?" Mr. O'Connor asked. "That's what Churchill used to say."

It's not clear if sales have picked up yet, especially considering that the listings Web site StreetEasy shows only three apartments in contract. But after Mr. O'Connor's speech, up in a new amenities space that's called the Manhattan Club, his colleague Brian Fallon said that StreetEasy's number was "an understatement," and that Manhattan House has sold $200 million of real estate since October, though he wouldn't elaborate.

The upstairs club also has terraces with massive city views, plus two TVs: "CNBC is on, and if you don't want to watch that, you can watch a soap," Mr. O'Connor had offered during his speech. A few feet away, at the far end of the garden, stood a three-man band (clarinet, keyboard, bass) softly playing jazz standards. During "What a Wonderful World," the mustachioed bassist yawned.

mabelson@observer.com