The New Yorker did a feature on Marvin Schneider, 85, the city’s municipal clock master, and Forest Markowitz, 74, his apprentice, and their weekly visits to and history with the Clock Tower Building — aka 108 Leonard or 346 Broadway — where they stage a weekly protest over the fate of the clock. It’s a good (if sad) read — and made me think the story was worth a revisit.

When the building was purchased to be converted, the developers appealed to the Landmarks Preservation Commission, which ruled in 2014 that the developers were not required to preserve to mechanical workings of the clock, even though the building is a landmark. A lawsuit brought by local preservationists, including Schneider, ensued and continued for years; in the meantime, the developers had the clock’s workings electrified.

From The New Yorker: “’It was an act of treason, basically,’ Schneider, who wore rimless glasses and dark slacks hiked high above his waist by suspenders, explained not long ago, on the street in front of the building. As he has done every week for five years, he was logging the precise time error of the clock. The findings are then shared with the landmarks commission, as evidence of neglect.”

The building, constructed in 1898, was designed by Steven Hatch and McKim, Mead & White for the New York Life Insurance Company. The designation report has a long history of insurance in America, but also describes the clock: “Rising above [the 12th floor] is an attic story topped by a balustraded parapet with four impressive large stone eagles, the emblem of New York Life. The clock tower rises an additional two stories. The four-sided clock has 12-foot faces with Roman numerals. Originally the clock tower was surmounted by a bronze and galvanized metal sculptural group with four kneeling male figures supporting a skeletal globe, surmounted by an eagle. Designed by the well-known architectural sculptor, Philip Martiny, the group was removed sometime after 1928.”

The Peebles Corporation and El-Ad Group purchased the building, which they named 108 Leonard, for $160 million in 2013; sales started in 2018; listings show the common playroom has a giant clock face and gears as part of the decor. I am not sure how the clock is accessed now — there are multiple penthouse apartments, including one still for sale for $24 million — but Schneider and other preservationists and neighbors have been watching: the time is rarely accurate.

The Tribeca Trib has covered the story more closely, including this update in 2023:

“The ensuing controversy and legal battle over that decision may be long past, but the clock’s enthusiasts are crying foul again. They say the developers are failing to comply with their legal requirement to inspect and maintain the mechanism. And, they claim, the Landmarks Commission has not enforced its mandate.

‘This is a landmark that is supposed to be protected by the city and the Landmarks Commission and they’ve just completely fallen down on the job from day one,’ said Jeremy Woodoff, a former LPC deputy director of preservation who had been a petitioner in the lawsuit.

According to Tom Bernardin, president of Save Our American Clocks, the organization that sued the city over the LPC’s approval, the clock began registering the wrong time soon after it was electrified. As of last week, the north facing dials, especially visible on Broadway, are stuck at 10:30 while the other three are slow.”

The group maintains that the developers must keep the clock working properly or restore it to its original mechanical workings.

“It should not be necessary for members of the public or the press to call the owners’ attention to the fact that the times showing on the dials are incorrect, and that they have been incorrect for extended periods of time,” Woodoff said in an email to the Trib. “If the owners are unable to keep the computer controls working correctly on a consistent basis, they should restore the landmarked mechanical clock to operating condition.”

Schneider also maintains the clock at City Hall, and I believe, the one at Bogardus Plaza. But he told the New Yorker that he is considering retirement. But his apprentice said he would be willing to carry on the protests on Broadway. From The New Yorker: “Of the broken clock, he said, ‘It’s like a symbol saying, Nobody cares.’”