Frank Gehry's first New York City building is a minor mood piece, not the sort of rhapsodic extravaganza his adorers are used to. At one time, he had hoped to debut with a bent-metal Guggenheim Museum on the East River; he still plans to stage a full-scale invasion of Brooklyn with an all-Gehry district at Atlantic Yards. Meanwhile, there is this milky hulk on the Hudson, the headquarters of Barry Diller's Internet empire, IAC.

The building reaches its apex of glamour in wretched weather. Fog and snow haze its edges and bleach its white skin whiter, so that it seems to be constantly evanescing and rematerializing. On such dim days, the ceiling lights inside make the building fluoresce.

I wish it could always give that impression of indeterminacy. During construction, drivers along West Street saw drunken columns rising aslant from wavy concrete floors. When the white glass went on, some took it for a temporary protective film. Surely, they thought, it's not always going to look that way?