In the anteroom outside the chambers of the city's Landmarks Preservation Commission, architect George Boyle stood for a few moments to compose himself. He had just shown the commission more than a dozen renderings for proposed changes to the facade of 60 Hudson Street, a city landmark. Now, as he gathered up his materials, Boyle could only sigh "Well, that didn't go as well as I'd hoped," he said.

Two weeks earlier, in Boyle's presentation to Community Board 1's Landmarks Committee, things also could have gone better. Though lauded for its look, no amount of style could disguise what the committee perceived as the plan's bad intentions. Sixty Hudson Street, likely the most controversial structure in Tribeca, is a telecommunications "hotel" whose pollution, noise and diesel storage has long been the target of neighborhood ire. Commissioned by GVA Williams, the building's owners, Boyle was hoping to sell the Landmarks Commission on a revised master plan for installing dark shades in all of the windows- matching the shade of existing louvers-and an "open plan" to install an unlimited number of louvers on three of the building's four facades. Those louvers would replace windows and accommodate new air conditioners and backup generators. For both the board and the commission, the prospect of more air conditioners and diesel generators on the setbacks of 60 Hudson Street far outweighed any designs to disguise them. Both the board and the commission held over their decisions on the proposed master plan, which revised one approved in 1997, until they could review a thorough written summary. "We've seen the effect of the previous master plan in action, and it has been extraordinarily wicked," said Landmarks commissioner Meredith Kane, a Tribeca resident. Kane told of walking past the building with friends recently when "a huge puff of black smoke came out right in our faces. It was a mistake to ever allow those louvers at street level," Kane said. Others on the commission compared the design to a "time machine" and "some kind of a dungeon." Architect Ralph Walker designed the 1929 Art Deco building and Boyle said he'd drawn on Walker's work as inspiration in restoring the building's bronze storefronts. But with the exception of a newsstand and hardware store, no other ground level retail space remains in the building, which occupies an entire block. That's a sore spot for neighbors, who say the building shows few signs of life. "Unless you want to buy a wrench or a newspaper, there is nothing to do there but look at the 19 different shades of brick," said Tribeca resident Caroline Martin who testified in opposition to the plan at the May 25 Landmarks Preservation Commission meeting. Though panned, the look of the restoration plan was not without admirers. Community Board 1, in its resolution calling for a written summary of the project, praised Boyle's effort to bring a stylized uniformity to the patchwork of windows and louvers. And Landmarks Committee co-chairman Bruce Ehrmann, a neighbor of the building and one of its most vocal detractors, stills counts himself a fan of Boyle's work, which includes several penthouse additions in Tribeca and a 200-year-old former farmhouse in the West Village. "It's too bad that this time you've been given a bull to ride," he told Boyle.