Edward Minskoff had access to all this valuable sculpture he wanted to share with the city, whether the city wanted it or not.
It turned out the city wasn't so sure, but Mr. Minskoff was. So despite initial opposition from the Municipal Art Society, Community Board 5 and several members of New York's Planning Commission, the 55-year-old developer was granted permission to convert the public atrium in the IBM Building at 590 Madison Ave. into a sculpture garden.
It was an odd battle that pitted Mr. Minskoff against several individuals, such as Amanda Burden, and groups, such as the MAS, that would normally be supportive of a fine arts haven for the city. The problem was that Mr. Minskoff wanted to change a treasured public space with trees and chairs and places to eat lunch, which had been created by the original builders of the office tower as a quid pro quo for being allowed to add 131,000 square feet to the structure. "He came in very arrogant with his first plans," says an official at the Municipal Art Society, recalling the initial proposal that would have removed all the movable chairs and also installed guards. "They were abysmal."
Already,since the project was approved by the community board and the planning commission, Mr. Minskoff has closed the space to the public more times than his agreement with the city permits.
But that's Ed Minskoff. He knows exactly what he wants and, much to the chagrin of many in the real estate industry, this other abrasive offspring of a big developer often gets it.
In an industry dominated by men who manipulate corporations, politicians and even cities to suit their needs, Mr. Minskoff has made his mark as a tough customer. Feared for his unrelenting negotiations, loathed for his success and good luck, he is walking proof that nice guys finish last. He keeps finishing first-at least so far.
Unlike old-style developers, who build partnerships that last a lifetime, Mr. Minskoff changes his allies with almost every dance-not necessarily by his own choice.
It's a pattern that began at home: Mr Minskoff never joined the family firm founded by his grandfather, Sam Minskoff, which built the Minskoff Theatre and office tower in Times Square.
"I never received a dollar in financial support from my family from the day I finished college," Mr. Minskoff says. "The name was more of a difficulty than a help."
Even so, being from a well-known real estate family may have meant the difference for a businessman who, former colleagues say, has a penchant for rampages and tantrums in his efforts to dominate deals.
"I don't have tantrums," Mr. Minskoff responds. "I am 100% in control."
Most brokers and former colleagues interviewed about Mr. Minskoff asked to speak off the record and consistently described him as difficult and intense.
"He gets involved in a deal immediately and changes his mind constantly," says a leasing broker who does business with him. "He has to find new partners because he burns his bridges."
Others who have chosen to do business with him characterize his style as creative and dogged.
"We needed someone who's been through all of it--buying and selling and financing--and emerged relatively unscathed," says Martin Rabinowitz, a partner in Odyssey Partners, which joined with Mr. Minskoff to buy the IBM building. "Ed Minskoff has the intangibles that separate those who are successful from those who are successful in bull markets."
The deal that clinched a place in New York real estate history for Mr. Minskoff is known as the Uris deal. In 1977, he engineered the $338 million sale of eight major Manhattan skyscrapers to the Reichmann family of Toronto, a steal that later paid off big for the Reichmanns' Olympia & York subsidiary, with a return over the next decade of $3 billion. After that transaction, Mr. Minskoff became a partner at O&Y and helped put together the deals on which the World Financial Center was based.
The partnership ended in 1986 when he was bought out by the Reichmanns for at least $40 million. Some former O&Y colleagues say that he was forced out, in what was basically a personality clash with Paul Reichmann.
Coming out of O&Y, he quickly set up shop on his own and began assembling the land and almost $300 million for a new skyscraper, which opened in 1990, behind Sixth Avenue's New York Hilton Hotel.
Five years later, it is finally fully leased. Some contend that Mr. Minskoff, who sank roughly $30 million into it during a 1992 restructuring, was forced to give up most of his equity to Citibank at that time.
The purchase and leasing of the IBM Building went much more smoothly, although it took prodding from his partner Odyssey Partners, the hiring of Edward S. Gordon Co. as a leasing agent, and a reduction in asking rents to the mid $40s per square foot from the mid $50s, insiders say. Little more than a year after the deal was closed, all but seven floors in the million-square-foot building are leased, says Mr. Minskoff. IBM remains in a third of the building.
Mr. Minskoff denies that any rents were cut to bring in tenants. Clearly, though, he tried specifically for some high-prestige names, which may have ended up being less lucrative in the end. His big public relations coup was his successful wooing of the Freedom Forum, a noted nonprofit devoted to the First Amendment, which will rent the former IBM Gallery of Science and Art.
"Old-fashioned developers can't do what he does," says Mariyon Robertson of Joseph Hilton Associates, which recently represented Cemex, a Mexican company, in a lease at the IBM building. "He has no hesitation. He teams up with anybody available. He survives."