Manatus

VANISHING

Last summer, I shared the rumor that Manatus had lost its lease and would be closing, but this was never confirmed.



Just now, reader Michael wrote in: "Manatus is closing tonight, a village neighbor told me this, said the new asking rent was 50 thousand, so I called the restaurant and tonight is their last night - closing at midnight."

I immediately called the restaurant and they told me the same thing. They lost their lease. They close at midnight tonight.

This is a sad day for the Village. Manatus has been in business since the mid-1980s, catering to the local LGBT clientele, and it is the last affordable, down-to-earth place to eat in that hyper-gentrified plastic part of town. I had my last meal there a couple months ago and didn't know it.

If the original rumor is completely true, then a Calvin Klein store is taking Manatus' place.



Previously:
Manatus to close?
Lunch at Manatus
Bleecker Timeline
Bleecker's Luxe Blitz

NYC 78 - 83

Patrick Cummins' photos of dirty, old New York City are making the rounds on Facebook, and on Alex's Flaming Pablum, and they're getting everyone excited. Cummins' incredible Flickr set offers a detailed looked at the city in ruins, from Union Square to Coney Island. Don't miss them. Here are just a few.

Broadway and Grand, a lovely luncheonette:



St. Mark's and Third:



Stromboli Pizza on University, just forced out of business for luxury condos:



"Dave's Improved Egg Cream":

Andrade Shoe Repair

As the building that houses the original Bowlmor Lanes is emptied (Stromboli Pizza has shuttered, the magazine shop has moved across the street) and scaffolding goes up to ready it for demolition (luxury condos are coming), the block of University between 12th and 13th loses another long-time mom and pop.



Next to what had been the University Diner for over 20 years, Andrade Shoe Repair will close April 25.



The jeweler who changed watch bands and batteries has already vacated the shop. It seems like every time I find a watch battery changer, they go out of business.

Why are they closing? "The rent," I was told. Of course. What shoe repair shop can afford the rent anymore? Where will we go for shines and new soles? (There used to be a lot more Andrades in town.)



While we're on the topic, if you haven't yet, please sign the petition to save Jim's Shoe Repair, one of the oldest cobbler shops left in the city, about to be annihilated by Duane Reade.

47's Sidewalk & Second Story

47th Street between 5th and 6th, otherwise known as Diamond Way, is one of the last blocks of the old New York business districts left in Manhattan. Walking on it feels like walking back in time. Barkers stand outside the diamond shops, calling to you as you pass.



Merchants put pretty young women in the windows to seduce passing customers, in case the diamonds aren't seductive enough. Everything is protected by the watchful eyes of security cameras and blue-glass nazars to ward away evil.



The street is both dreary and utterly alive--though it has changed in recent years, with luxury glass towers going in. It still breaks my heart to see Gotham Book Mart gone.

So much is happening on the sidewalk--Hasidic men make deals in dark huddles, while other men shine shoes and itinerant merchants lend the block an air of menace as they try to lure you into sidewalk buying and selling--against which signs warn, "Shoppers beware: Do not buy from or sell to street solicitors."

You expect the old cliche, a man opening his trench coat and whispering, "Psst. You wanna buy a watch?"



Above ground, 47th Street has a lively and strange second story. Up flights of stairs plastered in advertisements, you'll find winding corridors filled with bare-bones barber shops, and workshops that are nothing more than holes in the wall, where jewelry polishers labor, and gold and diamonds are bought and sold.





For lunch, stop in at Taam-Tov, a glatt kosher Uzbek joint serving the foods of Bukharian culture, from the Jews of the Silk Road. Traditional music plays in a casual dining room where a rabbi watches over and the walls are painted with murals of Uzbekistan--palm trees, deserts, the Mausoleum of Tamerlane with its lapis lazuli and gold-encrusted cupola.

Try the plov, also known as Uzbek pilaf, but skip the drink described as "Russian lemonade."


Samsa and "Russian lemonade"

Through the second-story hallways, an elderly Hasidic man wanders from shop to shop. He begs for money, holding up a note that explains a long, sad story about family left behind in Israel. Inside Taam Tov, the manager gives him a dollar and waves him away.



Finally, you can't walk down this block without thinking of that incredible scene from Marathon Man, where the holocaust survivors recognize the evil Nazi Dr. Szell as he goes to appraise a case full of Auschwitz diamonds.

Malaysia Beef Jerky

Sometimes you stumble upon places and things that remind you that this city is not dead--yet. Not entirely. And it gives you a flutter of hope. After many years of walking all over town, there still remain entire blocks, even in Manhattan, that are unknown to you. So it was when I stepped into Malaysia Beef Jerky at 95A Elizabeth Street in Chinatown.



Under an awning bearing the silhouettes of a pig, chicken, and cow, the place is a scruffy little hole in the wall, filled with Buddhist altars and the sweet, spicy fragrance of jerky.

The three people behind the counter are businesslike and abrupt. As it should be. An unsmiling woman stands at a sizzling grill in the window, turning thin-sliced squares of pink meat with a pair of tongs.



The meat is then stacked in a glass case, under warming light bulbs, behind signs with their simple, no-nonsense names: Beef Jerky, Chicken Jerky, Pork Jerky, spiced or not spiced.

Five bucks will get you a quarter pound, warm and greasy, stashed in a paper bag. Just the right amount to eat with your hands while you're walking around, looking for more of the hidden city.



(How long before some asshole opens an "artisanal" jerky shop a block away, offering flavors like truffle oil, tarragon, cardamom, and of course the uber-hip sriracha, and then this place will be turned into a macaron shop? In other words, go -- now -- and get some real artisanal jerky. Because, while Chinatown's been slow to gentrify, you never know.)

Save Jim's Shoe Repair

Last month, I wrote about the forced closing of Jim's Shoe Repair, a beloved fourth-generation business that has been on E. 59th Street since 1932. The story has since appeared on Fox 5 News, and this week Jim's was named by Time Out one of the best shoe repair places in the city.

Jim's landlord, S.L. Green, is denying them a new lease and handing their space over to Walgreens, so the neighboring Duane Reade can expand its already large, block-through space. Once again, sky-high rents and the chaining of New York is pushing out our local culture.

Please sign (and share) this petition to save Jim's.



If you'd like to do more, please write to S.L. Green, letting them know you want Jim's to stay. Write to them electronically by clicking here, or via regular mail:

S.L. Green
420 Lexington Avenue
New York, NY 10170
Tel: 212-594-2700

You can also write to Walgreens and tell them you don't want them taking over Jim's. Write to them electronically by clicking here. Or via regular mail:

Walgreen Co.
200 Wilmot Road
Deerfield, IL 60015

Or write directly to the Duane Reade store in question:

41 E 58th St.
New York NY 10022
Tel: 212-421-4880


Sample texts--feel free to edit, etc.:

Dear S.L. Green:

It has come to my attention that you have denied a lease renewal to your long-time tenant Jim's Shoe Repair on East 59th Street. Jim's is a beloved fourth-generation business that has been on this block since 1932. I understand that Duane Reade will be expanding into Jim's space. As a New Yorker, I am tired of seeing corporate chains take over our small mom-and-pops. Duane Reade and Walgreens already take up enough of the city's real estate. I'm writing to ask that you negotiate a new lease with Jim's, at a fair price and for a significant length of time.

Sincerely,
X



Dear Walgreens:

Your Duane Reade store #14117, located at 41 East 58th Street, is scheduled to expand its 59th Street frontage, taking over the space currently occupied by Jim's Shoe Repair. Jim's is a beloved fourth-generation business that has been on this block since 1932. If your store expands, Jim's will be out of business. As a New Yorker, I am tired of seeing corporate chains take over our small mom-and-pops. Duane Reade and Walgreens already take up enough of the city's real estate. I'm writing to ask that you back out of this plan and do not take over Jim's space.

Sincerely,
X

Schwarzenbach's Silk Clock

A reader, who is a clock collector and preservationist, writes in:

"The amazing silk clock on Park and 32nd has vanished. I asked a worker what the story was, as they are doing work on the building, and I had hoped that they were having it repaired. But the worker said the building was going to move it inside. Hopefully this is incorrect."

He sent in a photo of the spot where the clock used to be, now just a hole covered by a piece of plywood under scaffolding.



Originally known as the Schwarzenbach Buildings, for Schwarzenbach Looms, 470 Park Avenue South was once the home of silk importers. The gorgeous Silk Clock was installed in 1926, flanked by carved terra-cotta silk moths created by fauvist artist Marguerite Zorach.


via David Cobb Craig, Street Clocks in NY

At the time, the New York Times reported:

"In behalf of the Schwarzenbach enterprises, a 'Silk Clock,' made of bronze, was dedicated yesterday morning... The clock, which juts from the wall of the Schwarzenbach Building, was unveiled by Mr. Schwarzenbach's sons, Robert M. and Jean Christophe, before two hundred guests assembled in the street. A figure of Zoroaster, 'the mastermind and doer of all things,' is perched atop the clock. At his feet is a cocoon, and beyond sits a slave representing the 'primitive forces and instincts of man.' Every hour Zoroaster waves a wand, and the slave, rising at the will of his master, swings a hammer against the cocoon. Promptly the 'Queen of Silk' emerges from the cocoon, a tulip in her hand, and not until the hour has ceased striking does she disappear."

You can view that action in this video.



Today, 470 Park Avenue South is going through changes. On its scaffolding banner it is proclaimed, "MIDTOWN SOUTH'S CUTTING EDGE."

According to the Commercial Observer, the property is "part of a $1.2 billion joint venture between TIAA-CREF and the Norwegian Government Pension Fund Global," and it "undergoing an extensive redevelopment, with lobby renovations set to commence shortly."

What will happen to the clock, and to the silk moth carvings that frame it, in the renovations? Our tipster also talked to a building tenant: "He said he assumed they would return the clock, but was distraught about them ruining the original face of the building with the silk moths, etc. They're destroying the entire lobby, and building a two-floor glass entrance on the building."

He urges us all to call the building manager, at 212-372-2244, and tell them to save this amazing piece of New York history. Since the first photo above was taken, the facade of the building has been covered in demolition plywood. Will Marguerite's silk moths be blasted away forever? Will the Silk Clock be returned to the street so everyone can enjoy it?