Tammany Hall

The Installation of the “Purity” Monument in Times Square: The Story of Leo Lentelli’s Forgotten Sculpture

In the very same location where the bronze figure of Father Francis Patrick Duffy stands today in the heart of Manhattan, in 1909 there stood an entirely different sculpture — a grand white monument by Italian-American sculptor Leo Lentelli, known as “Purity, or Victory Over Slander.” This monument, installed on what is now Duffy Square, became one of the most controversial and short-lived memorials in New York history, leaving behind only a few photographs and newspaper articles from the early twentieth century.

The story of this monument’s installation represents a unique cross-section of the cultural, political, and artistic life of America during the Taft presidency, when New York City was experiencing a period of heated debates about civic honesty and the role of public opinion in shaping urban identity. Lentelli’s monument, which existed for only about six weeks, became a symbol not only of the vain aspirations of the political forces of that era but also evidence of how art can be used as a tool of propaganda.

The Artist: Leo Lentelli’s Path to American Sculpture

Leo Lentelli was born on October 20, 1879, in Bologna, Italy, into a family where art and craftsmanship were passed down through generations. From an early age, he displayed exceptional abilities in sculpting, which allowed him to receive classical training in the workshops of Bologna and Rome. This education laid the foundation for his mastery, which would later make him one of the most sought-after sculptors in America. Italy, with its richest traditions of monumental art, its palaces adorned with sculptures and squares where every statue carries semantic weight, shaped the aesthetic sensibilities of the young master and taught him to work with allegorical images capable of speaking on several levels of perception simultaneously.

In 1903, at the age of twenty-four, Lentelli immigrated to the United States, like many of his compatriots seeking new opportunities across the ocean. The new America, with its hunger for grandeur and large-scale projects, proved to be fertile ground for the young sculptor’s talent. Arriving in New York, he initially worked as an assistant in the studios of established masters, gaining experience and mastering the specifics of the American art market. In 1911, Lentelli won the prestigious Avery Prize at the Architectural League exhibition, which marked the official recognition of his talent by the American art community. A year later, in 1912, he took American citizenship, symbolically cementing his belonging to his new homeland.

However, the main test of his creative abilities was yet to come in 1909, when a young sculptor received an order that would change his reputation — and forever link his name with one of the most questionable episodes in the history of Times Square.

Birth of the Monument: Commission and Concept

In the summer of 1909, an organization called the “Association for New York” appeared in New York, declaring its mission — to defend the city’s reputation against criticism and slander. At first glance, this looked like a sincere expression of civic position: the organization announced its intention to confront “indiscriminate criticism and attacks on the Big Apple.” However, it soon emerged that behind this respectable facade hid one of the most notorious political machines in America — Tammany Hall, a secret organization of the Democratic Party that had for decades controlled New York City politics through corruption, bribery, and manipulation of public opinion.

The president of the Association, William Harmon Black, former Commissioner of Accounts in the Tammany administration, formulated the goal of the future monument: to “challenge indiscriminate criticism and slander against New York” and to “affirm civic pride” among city residents. Hidden behind these patriotic slogans was frank political propaganda — Tammany Hall sought to strengthen its image on the eve of municipal elections scheduled for that fall. The statue was to become a gigantic public relations tool, rising above the bustle of Times Square and reminding citizens of the allegedly pure and noble intentions of the city administration.

To implement this ambitious plan, the territory between Broadway and Seventh Avenue in the central part of Times Square, between 44th and 45th Streets, was chosen — the very same location where, nearly three decades later, Father Duffy’s statue would be installed. The contract for creating the monument was awarded to the young Italian-American sculptor Leo Lentelli, whose talent for creating monumental allegorical figures had already been noted by the professional community.

Design and Construction: From Concept to Reality

Lentelli developed a design for a grand female figure intended to symbolize “Purity” — a virtue contrasted against the city’s critics. The statue was conceived as a striking allegorical image: a majestic white female figure in anger and disgust, trampling vices and defending the city’s honor. In her left hand, the figure was to hold a shield inscribed “Our City,” with dark spots symbolizing the “mud slung” by the city’s detractors at New York. The composition carried a clear ideological message: the city was positioned as an innocent victim of unjust criticism, and the sculpture called for defense of its reputation.

The technical execution of the project represented a significant engineering challenge. The statue was to reach a height of approximately fifty feet (about fifteen meters) — a scale comparable to a four-story building. Plaster was chosen for the monument’s creation — a material that allowed relatively quick and economical construction of a large-scale sculpture, but extremely impermanent in urban conditions. The final weight of the statue was about eighty tons, requiring more than fifty barrels of plaster material. The total cost of the project was estimated at five thousand dollars — a sum equivalent to approximately one hundred forty thousand dollars at current exchange rates.

In the summer of 1909, construction scaffolding began to be erected on the designated section of Times Square, shrouded in an aura of mystery. The work was carried out without broad publicity, which only fueled the curiosity of passersby and journalists. Newspapers speculated about what was being erected in the heart of Manhattan, and few guessed the scale and purpose of the future monument.

Installation and Opening: Triumph and Bitter Irony

In the fall of 1909, the final stages of work proceeded under strictest secrecy. When on October 5, 1909, The New York Times finally broke the veil of silence and revealed the project’s details, the city was stunned. The newspaper reported that the “majestic white statue” by a “young Italian-American sculptor” was being erected in Times Square with the purpose of “glorifying the White City and confounding mudslingers.” The official name of the monument alternated between “Purity,” “The Defense of New York,” and “The Defeat of Slander,” with the latter most precisely reflecting its propaganda nature.

The ceremonial opening of the monument took place in October 1909. At that moment, the city was literally mesmerized by the appearance of such an unusual structure. The statue rose above the bustling crowds of Times Square, its snow-white surface prominently standing out against the ever-changing lights and signs of the district. At night, the monument was illuminated by searchlights from the adjacent Acme Building, and soft blue electric lights were concealed within its diadem, creating a mystical aura around the figure. The effect was impressive: a lone white giant woman as if floating above the city, gazing upon it with an expression of anger and contempt for those who dared to criticize the city.

Around the statue’s base, frankly propagandistic inscriptions were placed, leaving no doubt about the monument’s political character. On the southern side of the pedestal, it read: “Victory Over Slander” and “Erected by the Association for New York.” The northern side stated: “Dedicated to New York — the greatest and best of cities — Our Home.” On the eastern side was inscribed an aphoristic phrase: “He who slanders an individual injures but one. He who slanders New York injures four and a half million people.” These words, intended to strengthen citizens’ loyalty to the city administration, proved hypocritical: Tammany Hall, the force behind the monument, was known for its corruption and manipulation.

Public Reaction: Ridicule and Criticism

Barely had the statue taken its place when a wave of criticism and ridicule unfolded, soon eclipsing the effect of the grand opening. Newspapers quickly exposed the Association for New York’s connection to Tammany Hall, and the ironic tone of publications replaced the initial surprise. The East Hampton Star bitingly christened the statue “this plaster amazon” and noted: “To connect the name of Tammany with purity is a joke.” The Sun sarcastically called the monument “a concrete object lesson.” Western state press joked that residents of the West should stop criticizing New York, “or the big white lady will get us.”

Particularly notable was The Sun’s observation that “the real defamers of New York are not the muckrakers who are truth speakers, but the muckmakers who defile and pollute our city.” This bitter irony underscored the absurdity of the situation: a monument intended to combat slander itself became the object of deserved criticism, and its sponsors — Tammany Hall — found themselves at the center of a scandal it was supposed to prevent.

Lentelli’s sculptural work, with all its technical merits, also did not escape criticism. Art critics noted that the allegorical concept was overly simplified, and the figure appeared more aggressive than majestic. The monument’s propagandistic function clearly dominated its artistic merit, which could not but affect its aesthetic evaluation.

Demolition: The Disgraceful End of “Purity”

The monument’s fate was sealed by the outcome of the municipal elections held in November 1909. Tammany Hall candidates suffered defeat, and the political need for the monument vanished. Moreover, its presence became a reminder of the failed election campaign and the clumsy attempt to manipulate public opinion.

On November 20, 1909, workers began dismantling the statue, breaking it apart on-site. The New York Times did not fail to note: “Miss Purity has not stayed her full time at the head of Times Square… she goes back to the dust pile.” The statue, having graced the square for just over six weeks, was demolished, leaving behind only an empty pedestal, which soon also disappeared. Tammany Hall hastily distanced itself from its failed brainchild, preferring to forget this episode as a regrettable mistake.

For Leo Lentelli, this experience was a bitter lesson about the political underbelly of art and the dangers of aligning creativity with expedient political interests. However, his career did not suffer from this: in subsequent years, the sculptor created numerous significant works, including the Water Sprites for the Panama-Pacific International Exposition in San Francisco in 1915, reliefs for Rockefeller Center, and memorial statues in Washington and other cities. His name firmly entered the history of American sculpture, although “Purity” remained the most famous of his New York works — but for historical rather than artistic reasons.

After “Purity”: From Emptiness to the Duffy Statue

The vacated space on Times Square remained empty for nearly three decades. This period was marked by the transformation of the district: Times Square gradually evolved from a meeting place for businessmen and theater enthusiasts into the epicenter of the entertainment industry and a bright showcase of American pop culture. In the 1930s, after the Great Depression, the district needed renewal and the acquisition of a new identity.

In 1937, twenty-eight years after the demolition of Lentelli’s monument, a new monument appeared in the same location — a statue of Father Francis Patrick Duffy, a military chaplain who became famous during the First World War. Sculptor Charles Keck created a bronze figure of the priest in military uniform, gazing toward Broadway. The monument was ceremonially opened on May 2, 1937, by Mayor Fiorello LaGuardia. In 1939, the square before the statue was officially named in Duffy’s honor — thus Duffy Square was born, becoming an integral part of Times Square.

Since then, Father Duffy’s statue has survived the turbulent decades of the twentieth and twenty-first centuries, including the era of Times Square’s rise and fall, its criminal periods, and the subsequent “cleaning” that transformed the district into a family entertainment center. Unlike its short-lived predecessor, Duffy Square’s monument established itself as a permanent element of the cityscape and an object of respect for citizens.

Historical Significance: Lessons from Lentelli’s Monument

The history of the monument “Purity, or Victory Over Slander” represents a valuable source for understanding the mechanisms of urban politics, the role of art in public space, and the fragility of memorials devoid of genuine historical or artistic value. This case demonstrates how political forces attempted to use monumental art to manipulate public opinion, and how the public invariably recognizes falsehood and hypocrisy.

For Leo Lentelli, this episode was an important stage in his professional journey. Despite the failure of “Purity,” the sculptor proved his mastery in creating monumental works, and the subsequent years of his career were marked by numerous successful projects. The tragedy of “Purity” lay not in the quality of execution but in the viciousness of the idea itself: a monument created to glorify corruption and manipulation could not find sincere acceptance among citizens.

More than a century after the events of 1909, when we stand in Duffy Square and gaze upon the bronze figure of the military chaplain, it is worth remembering his short-lived predecessor — the white plaster “Purity,” which briefly illuminated Times Square before falling ignominiously into oblivion. This story reminds us that genuine monuments are born not from political commissions and propaganda campaigns but from deep respect for historical figures and their real contributions to society.

Published by Francis Patrick Duffy