Here's a wood window article that you may find amusing - or it might make you
cry:

                 January  22, 1995, Sunday, Late Edition - Final

SECTION: Section 9; Page 7; Column 1; Real Estate Desk

LENGTH: 829 words

HEADLINE: Streetscapes/1088 Park Avenue;
The Virtues and Vices of New, and Old, Windows

BYLINE:  By  CHRISTOPHER GRAY

 BODY:
   AFTER a three-year moratorium on window replacements, the co-op corporation
of the 1925 apartment house at 1088 Park Avenue has decided to go ahead with a
first-class window replacement program.

   Because many of the shareholders will be allowed to keep their original
wooden frames, the building will become an ongoing laboratory for studying the
virtues and vices of new -- and old -- windows.

    Mott B. Schmidt, widely known for his genteel town houses on Sutton Place
and the Upper East Side, designed 1088 Park Avenue in 1924. Schmidt developed
an
austere, Italian Renaissance-style facade in limestone and gray brick with a
giant, double-height entry portal. A real estate holdout prevented the
development of the whole block, but he nevertheless carved out a larger than
average rear courtyard and made it into a planted garden with architectural
details, a suave and unusual touch.

   Schmidt grouped the windows into twos and threes, and these groups do much
to
limit the packing-box quality that critics deplored in such buildings.

   According to Judith McGuire, president of the building's board of
directors,
the board took a laissez-faire attitude to window replacements by shareholders
until about 1980, when it banned the installation of picture windows because
of
esthetic concerns. Shareholders then generally installed one-over-one, as
opposed to multipaned, windows. But some shareholders still objected to such
modernization and the issue simmered until 1991.

   In that year the board decided that some improvement of the windows was
necessary, and, at first, proposed new aluminum one-over-one windows
throughout
the building. More shareholders then objected and the matter was referred to a
committee, which weighed reports from various consultants and salesmen.

   After listening to both sides the board decided to permit each shareholder
to
decide on a window strategy: Either install a top quality, double-insulated
replacement window manufactured by the Pella Corporation, or follow the
building's specifications to upgrade the existing wooden windows.  Ms. McGuire
would not reveal the cost of each option, but according to Julie Kidd, a
shareholder, the replacement windows cost $875 each and it costs $525 to
repair
one.
                                                                        PAGE
293
                      The New York Times, January 22, 1995


   The replacement Pella windows are well above the usual mediocre quality
seen
in many New York buildings. Wood on the inside and aluminum on the outside,
the
Pella windows are new and fresh: they slide up and down easily, block out
noise
and dust, have muntins, which divide panes, imitating the original multipaned
configuration and are not clogged with paint. In addition, there is plenty of
advertising to convince owners to replace their old windows. So who wouldn't
spend extra for such quiet and convenience?

   According to Ms. McGuire, about 30 percent of the shareholders weren't
convinced and are keeping their old windows, although they will now be
responsible for exterior painting every few years. Simon Abrahams, who is
keeping his old windows, says that "the new windows imitate the same look but
they just have a fake feeling -- the fake muntins don't fool the eye."

   Keith David knows that there may be an additional cost but asks, "Why are
we
living in this apartment? We could live in a modern building and have none of
the maintenance costs of an old one."

   Ms. Kidd is suspicious of the high technology of modern replacement windows
and believes that the original wooden windows are an important resource that
can
be restored to match or approach the performance of a modern window. "The
managing agents have been sold a bill of goods by the replacement industry,"
she
says.

   FROM the outside, the form of the new windows closely matches the original
ones, especially from sidewalk distance. But you can tell by the glass: The
modern windows are a single, perfect sheet under the muntins, with shadowy
reflections caused by the double glazing. The glass in the old windows has
gentle ripples, like a stream eddy, and each pane reflects the light at a
slightly different angle. The wood itself has a soft, varied quality that
metal
cannot match.

   For a sophisticated design like that of 1088, the only truly hurtful change
on the outside is the choice of color. The original woodwork on this and most
other 1920's apartment houses was painted buff, or cream or white, in sympathy
with the masonry skin. The co-op has chosen the aluminum industry's standard
brown and is repainting the surviving wooden windows the same color.

   Whether these are small or large issues depends on whether you look at the
windows themselves, and indeed your entire apartment. Some people want their
floors or furniture or bathroom to be nice and new; others see disharmony in
attempting to retrofit the new into the old.

   In any event, the presence of both kinds of windows in a single building
under uniform care will form a control group that may, decades hence, resolve
suspicions of partisans for each solution.

GRAPHIC: Photos: 1088 Park Avenue in 1925 (inset)(Museum of the City of New
York); owners may either replace or restore their windows. (Marilynn K.
Yee/The
New York Times)