Update below
"Are you Jameson?" a cheerily expectant woman in her 20s asked me, phone in hand.
The sidewalk outside of 10 Lexington Avenue, a new, 81-unit luxury apartment building in Clinton Hill, was bustling on Wednesday night with fresh and prospective tenants coming and going, and brokers waiting to show apartments.
"Are you looking for a broker?" I asked.
"No, I am one," she said.
I introduced myself as a reporter and asked, "Is it standard for brokers to rent out apartments in buildings that don't yet have a certificate of occupancy?"
"Oh, that's something with management," she said, then paused, lips pursed. "Do you mind if I go talk to someone?" She let herself into the lobby and the door closed behind her.
A couple of young parents unloading garbage bags and last-touch items from a hired BMW SUV were about as interested in talking.
The ground-level windows facing Lexington Avenue, all but one lacking curtains, revealed more collections of people's belongings—stacked boxes, mattresses and bed frames leaning against walls—dropped off by tenants who had put money down on apartments to move in September 1st only to find construction crews still working, and management affiliated with prolific Brooklyn developer Joshua Brunner's Bruman Realty informing them that the building had not yet obtained a certificate of occupancy.
The property manager, Joel Mittelman, told several tenants that they could move their things in, but couldn't legally stay inside. As of today, September 9th, the building still lacks a C of O, the document that makes a building legally habitable, according to a Department of Buildings spokesman.
I asked the mom, sweating as she hefted a bag in one hand and an infant in a car seat in the other, if they'd decided to say screw it and move in despite the building's uncertain legal status. "They do have a C of O," she said. "Management told us this afternoon." Asked for further information about the state of her apartment she said with a sigh, "I can't," and she too continued her trips inside.
The lobby of 10 Lexington. Not pictured: a stack of drywall and more wood. (Nathan Tempey/Gothamist)
Awaiting her in the building, where one bedrooms are advertised as starting at $3,000 and three-bedrooms go for $3,900, was a lobby with a floor caked in construction dust, and lined with drywall and metal and wood building materials. The elevator isn't working, which may have made the building a tough sell to the prospective tenant in a wheelchair being shown around by a broker (I didn't get a chance to talk to the prospective renter because the broker threatened to call the police on me in the lobby, and later, when he and his client came out of the building, rushed over to me and tried to grab my phone as he yelled, "I'm not going to touch you, but you have to delete the photos!").
Some halls are lined with butcher paper, and in the place of placards with apartment numbers, there are printer-paper signs taped up, some with the word "OCCUPIED" scrawled beneath the number. On the roof that evening, a man could be seen finishing a cement wall. In an empty fourth-floor apartment, another worker was busy painting.
More needs to be done even in the apartments that have been rented out, too, according to five tenants who spoke to Gothamist. In one split-level three-bedroom I viewed, the air conditioning wasn't working, nor was the intercom, and there was no hot water or stove gas. A wire dangled from the ceiling above the kitchen counter beside an unfinished light fixture. A window was smeared with paint.
Building tools intermingled with tenants' belongings—a trowel and some piping on the edge of the kitchen sink beside the pepper grinder—and my tenant tour guide, who like the rest of the would-be residents I spoke to asked to remain anonymous for fear of retribution, said his and his roommate's things had been stolen, presumably by the construction workers who are still coming and going at will.
"It's been a total mess moving into this place," the tenant said.
His balcony, like the rest of the dozens of balconies I saw, is also unfinished, the surface a lumpy, rough concrete. The balcony overlooks an expansive parking lot that, he and other tenants said, brokers and managing agents led them to believe was going to become what a website for the development describes as a "stunning landscape courtyard."
"I remember looking at it like, 'How are they gonna put grass back there?'" he recalled.
The building occupies the block-long plot of a former cleaning and dying factory, and a motel-like outdoor hallway leading to the other entrance on Quincy Street includes a strip of dirt with a patch of grass, as well as an open trash bag and pieces of disused scaffolding. Perhaps management is counting that as the courtyard.
Is this the "stunning landscape courtyard" tenants seek? (Nathan Tempey/Gothamist)
The fate of other promised amenities is also uncertain. The 10 Lexington website advertises a "furnished roof deck with stunning Manhattan views," but the roof, though accessible by the stairs, is covered only in tarpaper, and a Buildings Department spokesman said the architectural plans on file do not mention a roof deck. Equipment for a promised gym and a laundry room is still wrapped in plastic, but in contrast to the elusive deck and courtyard, it is sitting in basement rooms and seems to be close to usable.
"There's a nice view, at least," my tenant guide said, surveying the Downtown Brooklyn skyline at sunset.
On the third floor, a wraparound terrace is also surfaced with tarpaper, and littered with buckets, cardboard, and paint rollers.
The Quincy side of the development abuts the former site of the Broken Angel building, the tenement house turned into a massive art project by Arthur and Cynthia Wood, which served as a backdrop for Dave Chapelle's Block Party. A developer recently tore down the famed church-like front portion of the building and converted the shell of the apartment building into 10 condos.
The back entrance to 10 Lexington Avenue, center, next door to the former Broken Angel lot at 4 Downing Street, which is now condos, left. (Nathan Tempey/Gothamist)
"It's kind of sacred ground, right?" the tenant said, referring to 10 Lexington's proximity to the fabled art house. "Maybe that's why there are all these problems.
Joseph Brunner, described by The Real Deal along with his partner Abe Mandel as one of the "heavyweights" of Brooklyn's Hasidic Jewish developers, with more than 100 buildings to his name (well, LLCs), bought the former Colonial Laundry building for $6.175 million in 2012.
The process of demolishing the factory and building the sleek residential building in its place was fraught with problems. Neighbors have complained to the city about construction 22 times since January 2015, and a contractor has paid out $12,400 for 12 serious building violations in that time. Infractions included working in hours outside of those allowed by permits, failing to enclose the construction site, failing to safeguard personnel, and failing to notify the DOB that excavation was beginning.
A neighbor, who asked to remain anonymous for fear of retribution, said, "They've been such assholes every step of the way. It's the shoddiest job I've ever seen."
She complained that crews frequently worked late into the night and on weekends, and left debris on the sidewalk. During the final phase of construction, when workers were lining the facade with Styrofoam, her garden filled with balls of the stuff, "And I was picking it out of my five-month-old daughter's hair."
The neighbor added that a man from management once confronted her and, intimating that he knew she was calling 311, said, "Why do you care? Your street is already so dirty." Later, she says he added, "I can deal with a lot of fines."
The tenants we spoke to all shared stories that, though they diverged in some respects, were consistent on several key points. Specifically, they said that the leasing agents, operating out of an office marked "Bedford Lofts" at 105 Leonard Street in South Williamsburg, refused to give them copies of their leases ("Oh shit, I think we may not have gotten a copy," one said when told about the others' stories. His roommates confirmed it.); that management promised the building would be finished by September 1st; and when it wasn't, that management offered them amounts ranging from $100 to $140 a night to stay in hotels until the inspectors sign off. No one we spoke to has been reimbursed yet.
Sure... (10Lexington.com)
Several tenants are also awaiting the construction of new walls in their apartments, to partition off an extra bedroom (a text message exchange between an agent and a tenant seems to confirm this arrangement). They say they have been told that the work will be done after inspectors come through and sign off on the building. Such new construction would, of course, only be legal with the applicable permits.
A man named George who answered at a number listed for a brokerage representing the building called Yuri Management—state records show no licensed firm by this name—told me there is an available "one bedroom-two bedroom flex. It comes as a one-bedroom, but could be flexed as a two-bedroom, meaning they could come in and cut out some of the cabin space."
Asked why people are saying that there is no certificate of occupancy, George said, "What happened was, during the inspection, they didn't get one of the signatures." He said the move-in date has been delayed to September 15th. But three tenants told me that Mittelman, the property manager, informed them this week that the building has passed inspections and is okay to move into.
The tenants whose situations we reviewed—a mix of financiers, social services professionals, and students at nearby Pratt Institute—are stressed. One trio of students is staying with friends and hoping to pocket the money. They are angry about the alleged bait-and-switch, but question how much more they can do to hold Brunner accountable. "We're all so busy with school already, and it's so hard just getting ahold of management," one said. "And besides, we don't have our lease. Nothing is in writing."
My guide around the building said the experience for him has been "Actually kind of fun," given that he works in Downtown Brooklyn and has been sampling the neighborhood's hotel offerings with his girlfriend. For his roommates, who have more far-flung professional jobs, "It's definitely more disruptive."
Another tenant is planning to withhold rent—all incoming tenants we spoke to got September "free"—and consulting lawyers.
A worker puts some finishing touches on a rooftop wall. (Nathan Tempey/Gothamist)
The moving in of tenants to an un-permitted luxury development is eerily similar to the case of 120 South Fourth Street, which remains evacuated nearly a year after building inspectors forced residents out when inspectors conducting an audit—the department had previously signed off on the building—discovered 3,000 square feet of structural framing and concrete floor had been built without permits. That building is owned by Abraham Bernat, the brother-in-law of slain Williamsburg landlord Menachem Stark, and a principal of the firm The Bedford Lofts LLC.
It's not clear that there is a connection, but when the tenant who is considering lawyering up first heard that 10 Lexington lacked a C of O and started to do some research, he encountered a story about Bernat's foibles and realized his leasing agent was working for a company by a similar name. "I thought to myself, 'Oh, no, not this guy,'" he said.
The tenant recalled having asked repeatedly for a copy of the lease, but being told by the agents that the owner needed to add a few provisions to the generic lease and would mail him a copy.
"In retrospect, I was probably a little too trusting," he said. A text exchange seems to verify that he requested a copy of the lease and was told to wait by a leasing agent.
As for the predicament he's now in, the tenant said, "It’s ridiculous. All of these people have nowhere to stay."
The Buildings Department spokesman said it audited Brunner's permits during construction and forced the builders to change certain things to comply with the building code. Now, the spokesman said, the agency is planning to send inspectors once more.
Joel Mittelman, the building manager, did not respond to an email seeking comment or a message left at his Google Voice number. Another number listed for him on a permit application rang to a voicemail that is not set up. The number of a lawyer for Joshua Brunner listed on the purchasing records for 10 Lexington has been disconnected. Abraham Bernat did not respond to a voicemail seeking comment.
Update 4:45 p.m.:
An unnamed representative of the building—it's not clear if the person works for Bruman Realty, Bedford Lofts, or some other company—sent the following statement from a 10lexington.com email address:
As the leasing office we started signing leases in July with the understanding that our inspections for the certificate of occupancy would be complete in Mid-August. As such, the lease start dates were listed for September. The building did not receive the certificate of occupancy sign off yet as expected even though the building does have all other signoffs needed.
Landlord intends to fully comply with the term of all the leases. No tenant has received permission to occupy space in the building, However, landlord did allow as an accommodation for certain tenants that wanted to store their furniture and personal effects into the building for storage purposes only during the pendency of any ministerial delay.
Further more the Landlord has offered to pay the cost of hotels to every tenant that was not able to move in to his apartment to reduce any inconvenience on the new tenants side.In terms of accessory spaces, it is correct that the roof deck is not yet built. It will be constructed in the coming months. With regard to the courtyard, since most tenants did not rent parking space it is the intention of the owners to make an application to BSA for a waiver of the parking requirements to include a courtyard area in the existing structure, since there is already enough parking spaces in the basement.
This contradicts the accounts of three tenants who say that property manager Joel Mittelman told them over the past two days that the certificate of occupancy is in order and they could move in. The claim that the building has "all other signoffs needed" also contradicts DOB records, which show that 90 items are still required for the construction job to be approved. We will update further if/when we find out who is emailing us and/or get answers to follow-up questions.
