Friday, September 17, 2010

*Everyday Chatter

Neighborhood-changer Keith McNally outlines his plans to takeover the sad, destroyed Village Paper building for a Pulino's cafe. Neighbors say no. [Eater]

City wants you to snitch on smokers. [RS]

"The last time a government endeavored to keep people from smoking, it was actually Hitler. You should look into it." [NYT]

Sharon Florin's Old Town Bar--her show goes up this month. [SJF]


Don't forget to see On the Bowery this weekend. [CNY]

One of the more interesting bicycles of the EV. [NSC]

Crusties lose their sleeping spot. [EVG]

Lady Gaga perfume to smell like the city. [BB]

Will bedbugs lower the city's rents? [BU]

Old Town Bar

Sitting in the Old Town Bar, a quiet Saturday before the lunch-time rush. The bar is empty except for one woman. She's seated in the corner, reading the paper, like she sits there every day. Like she's been sitting in that same spot every day for the past 30 years.



She has gravitas. She could be a Susan Sontag--or someone who went to parties at Susan Sontag's apartment. I enjoy watching her read the paper. She does it well, peacefully and consciously. She looks up and around, then back down at the paper.



I look at her, then look away, up at the lamps over her head, at the ceiling over the lamps. It is a wondrous ceiling. Then I look back at the woman. She sips her brown drink, turns the newspaper page. All of it with gravitas.

I wish that all the bars of the city were filled with women like this one.



I get up to use the men's room, a room like few others, with a stained-glass ceiling, golden light, and urinals like marble monuments.



When I return to my booth, new people have come in to the bar. They drop their shopping bags and pick up their cell phones. They order white wine and commence their loud, boastful, complaining chatter.

They block my view of the woman. The atmosphere shifts. The peace is gone. It's over. But for a few moments, it was there.

Thursday, September 16, 2010

Getting Lost in the City

Photographer Ted Barron is featured in the latest issue of Sensitive Skin magazine. There and on his blog, Daily Pixel, you can see his photos of the city dating back to the 1980s. I asked him some questions about street photography in New York.


Wiffle Ball, St. Mark's Place, 1985

Q: In what ways do you see New York as changed through your lens over the years?

A: It's changed so much. In my first years here, I lived on the Lower East Side and photographed almost exclusively below 14th Street in Manhattan. It was pretty lawless in places. It was still a fairly open city, and there were remnants of decades past amidst the very contemporary ruins. I found that so compelling. It's all been pretty much wiped clean and homogenized into a nice version of New York. So much is lost, and much less is interesting to me when making photographs.

I moved to Williamsburg in 1988. Now it's expensive and overpopulated with overly entitled kids in brand new buildings, whose parents would never have let them live in New York 25 years ago. People used to move here to do something, now it's much more about getting something. That's always been the case to a certain extent, but the balance has shifted. It's much less interesting to me and subsequently much harder to photograph.


Girl with Dog, Delancey St., 1987

Q: What is less interesting, visually, about this new city?

A: A lot of the physical character of the city is disappearing. If you walk down streets in Nolita, Elizabeth or Mott Street, the storefronts have been completely stripped and replaced with plate glass windows and doors. Renovations at street level from the early 2000s already look dated and tacky. We didn't used to have that here, and visually, I find it unappealing. I do look for a timelessness when I'm photographing. I don't want things to look purposely old, but I do try to keep ugly cars, fast food joints, and SUVs out of my photographs. It's not easy.


Delancey Street, 1984

Q: Yet you continue to photograph street life in the city—what inspires you today?

A: The humanity of the city still inspires me. People are what always made New York what it is. The landscape has changed and it's visually more elusive. My relationship to the city has changed. I've changed. I'm in my forties and I'm a father. Still, there's always a surprise, and sometimes in the least expected places. New York is big place. I've photographed into much further reaches of Brooklyn, Queens and The Bronx in recent years. Something that never would have occurred to me when I was younger.


Brooklyn, 1995

Q: What do you find in the far reaches of the outer boroughs that you don’t find in Manhattan and its edges?

The neighborhoods are still ethnically diverse and and are still actual neighborhoods that have evolved organically over time. It's not just New York that suffers this problem, it's our country and our culture. Anywhere you go, there are basically a handful of chain stores, gas stations, and fast food restaurants. The same in every town. I guess people want familiarity. I find it depressing. New York didn't used to have it the same as other places. It's not all of Manhattan--I love Chinatown. It's still full of surprises for me. Brighton Beach--I tried to convince my ex-wife that we should move there when we were being kicked out of our building in Williamsburg after it was sold. She wouldn't hear of it. It is a hipster-free zone. The Bronx is wide open and full of possibility. I like getting lost in the city--the longer you live here, the harder it is to do.

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

*Everyday Chatter

In Brooklyn, an ancient pharmacy is preserved inside a coffee shop. [HPS]

A sidewalk bookseller asks, "If a saloon and bookstore can’t make it on the Upper West Side, what better evidence do you need than that of the decline of artistic and free thought? If this is happening here, what must you see in the hinterlands of America?" [NYT]

New York City leads the country in twits. [CR]



New book: Alphaville--a cop's memoir about "Alphabet City in 1988" when it "burned with heroin, radicalism, and anti-police sentiment."

It's not too late to live in Allen Ginsberg's former apartment. [EVG]

Half of New Yorkers are not worried about getting bedbugs. It's called denial. [WSJ]

Little Wisconsin

Eater just interviewed the new owner of the beloved and shuttered Fedora, about his reaction to nostalgics' Fedora criticism and his vision for that slice of Greenwich Village.

He said: "...We want to rebrand this like little pocket, the three blocks from West 4th street down where Fedora is all the way down to like Christopher and Sixth Avenue. I’d like to rename this little area 'Little Wisco,' because we’ve got the oldest and most prominent, Kettle of Fish (a true Wisco bar), we’re here, Jeffrey’s is here, Fedora will have Wisconsin people and a friend of mine that I went to college with is opening up a clothing shop on Christopher and Gay so it’s a lot of Wisconsin. You know they’ve got a Little Italy, I think we should make a Little Wisco in the West Village."



Joking or not, in this last statement, equating a Little Wisconsin with Little Italy, he inadvertently illuminates a powerful phenomenon at work in the city. For generations, the fabric of New York was woven by poor immigrants from foreign countries. They brought their cultures and created ethnic neighborhoods where they felt safe. Americans who migrated to the city, on the other hand, gladly left their own small-town cultures behind and assimilated into the urban.

Today, that is no longer the case. Especially in Manhattan, we're seeing middle-class and affluent immigrants from America's Heartland coming to recreate their hometowns. What will the city look like as Little Italy and Chinatown give way to Little Michigan and Ohiotown?



Before long, Villagers, you'll be boiling fish, rooting for the Packers, and running around with foam wedges of cheese on your head. Don't doubt it. The Kettle of Fish, once a Beatnik bar favored by Jack Kerouac, is now "the Big Apple's number one spot for Packer backers."



Tuesday, September 14, 2010

*Everyday Chatter

Newcomers to the city turn their condo buildings into high-rise suburbs, complete with kids, dogs, potlucks, and barbecues: "Never mind the bowling alley, ballet studio, swimming pool and other amenities." [NYT]

Josh Alan Friedman, author of Tales of Times Square, talks about his new autobiographical novel Black Cracker. [NSTAW]

Buy some atmospheric photos of the city from Goggla. [Etsy]

Tomorrow: See the Sex Worker Literati at Bowery Poetry Club.

The East Village "will not rest" until Sin Sin is gone. [EVG]

Guss' Pickles awning for sale--it could be yours. [BB]

Monday, September 13, 2010

*Everyday Chatter

The Uranian Phalanstery departs as: "so many of the creative groups that once had a home in the East Village have moved or become defunct." [NYT] ...help save their buildings.

Concerned New Yorkers speak out about the downtown mosque. [Flickr]

Faber's fabulous Fascination of Coney Island is no more. Another senseless loss. [ATZ]

"Bond No. 9 will soon tickle the olfactories with the fragrance of Cooper Square." [BB]

Yesterday at Howl! [EVG]

Dynamite! After a hard day's night in the Meatpacking District:


Washington Square Park redesign rankles. [WSP]

Original Papaya King reopens with "painful" renovations. [AFB]

Coming to Film Forum: On the Bowery: "New York, the 50s, stark, sharp, beautiful black and white; men sleeping on the street, on park benches, in doorways..." [FF]

After a hiatus, Here Is Park Slope returns to the blogosphere. [HIPS]

When Gallagher's was "Chez Evelyn." [GLF]