Odessa

VANISHING

UPDATE: False alarm! Now they say they're just renovating.

Back in 2013, the old Odessa closed. This Odessa was also known as the "dark" Odessa. It was the first Odessa and the one I loved best. Now the new Odessa, also known as a the "light" Odessa, is closing.


Odessa in miniature by Nicholas Buffon

When the old Odessa still existed, I didn't go much to the new Odessa because it felt redundant and too new when it opened back in 1990-whenever. Then, when the old Odessa closed, I went to the new Odessa (which was no longer new) because it was no longer redundant and, in fact, was one of the only places left in the East Village where you could get a simple diner meal and not be surrounded by the worst people.

Now it's closing. Their last day will be July 19.

You can't go inside to sit and eat because we're in a pandemic, remember? But you can order something to go and while you wait you can imagine that you're sitting inside, as if it's a normal day, in a normal time, and everything is not on the verge of disappearing forever.

Record Mart

VANISHED

After 62 years, Record Mart, "the oldest record store in Manhattan," has closed.


photo: Jesse Jarnow

Untapped Cities reports the sad news, “I’d seen them clearing the store out last week but I thought it was because of the fear of looting.” It was not the looting. It was "due to the pandemic," according to a sign on their door, which also reads, "We are moving into the vintage audio business, where we buy, refurbish, and sell audio equipment. Please visit us at recordmartwifi.com to browse our selection, or if you want to contact us to sell your audio gear."

I was last inside Record Mart in December. I worried about it then and bought a few things. I also took this video. A little moment of joy under the ground at Times Square.

Foley's

VANISHED

Another small-business casualty of the coronavirus shutdown, Foley's pub on West 33rd has closed for good.



This afternoon, owner Shaun Clancy posted a sad video on Twitter to say,  "Foley's won't reopen. Just with everything that's going on, there's just no way that I see that we can do it."

He thanks his customers and family, and concludes, "This is the end of the inning, but not the end of the game."



Foley's, located in an antique barroom featuring many original features, overflows with a stunning array of baseball memorabilia.

I've enjoyed a few burgers there over the years and once got an impromptu tour from Shaun's father, John Clancy, who pointed out the pistol he got from mobster Frank Costello and told about his days working at Toots Shor's, serving Frank Sinatra and Jackie Gleason.

Foley's was a true New York original. Pour one out.

New York in the Time of a Pandemic

What's it like on the streets of the city during the pandemic? In my recent travels, mostly around Manhattan, I've seen so much of the beauty, spontaneity, and eccentricity that makes New York feel like New York.

I am posting the photos on my Instagram page and hope you'll take a look.

John Jovino Gun Shop

VANISHED

John Jovino, the oldest gun shop in the United States, has closed for good after 109 years in business in Little Italy.

Founded in 1911 by John Jovino, and originally located in the gun center around the corner on Centre Market Place, the store was purchased by the Imperato family in the 1920s and has been run by Charlie Hu since 1995. It's been featured in many films, including Mean Streets and Serpico, and its famous wooden revolver sign has been a landmark in the neighborhood for over a century.


Charlie removed his mask briefly for this socially distanced shot. 
All photos by Stacie Joy.

Charlie, also known as "Gun King Charlie," was packing up the shop this week and graciously consented to speak with Vanishing New York about the end of an era. Stacie Joy visited with her camera and listened to Mr. Hu tell his story. Like many small business people who are forced to close, having a compassionate ear is an important part of saying goodbye.

"I turned away interviews from NBC, CBS, CNN, and the New York Times," Charlie said. "I only want to talk to you. I’m very emotional right now, as you can see, I am having a rough day. Everything is super sad. I'm glad you are here."



Charlie recalled the difficulties of running the shop years ago. The Italian mafia and the Chinese gangs both wanted protection fees, but Charlie refused. When they threatened him, he told them, “If you want to shoot me, shoot me right here,” and pointed to his heart. You had to establish toughness back then and Charlie was tough. “I don’t care," he told the gangsters. "I don’t give a shit, you do what you want.” They left Charlie alone. He outlasted them.

As a Chinese immigrant, and the first Chinese gun dealer in the U.S., he faced racism and hatred on a regular basis. He recalled how people would come into the shop and give him trouble for not speaking English with his wife. They threatened him, spat on him, called him racial slurs, and told him to "go back to China." But Charlie was tough. He outlasted them.



Charlie showed off the gun he keeps holstered at his hip. A Beretta 84 .380 pistol, it was clearly loved, oiled and cared for. He keeps it with him all the time and even featured it on the shop's iconic t-shirt.

“This is my gun," he said, pointing to the shirt. "It’s my design and it’s been the same price from the beginning. The price never increases and never decreases."



Charlie's phone kept ringing, as phones do on the last days of small businesses. Each time, it was another member of NYPD's top brass calling to check on him, ask how he's doing, and thank him for his decades of service.

Over the years, Charlie gained many friends in the NYPD, as he worked hand-in-hand with law enforcement to keep illegal guns off the streets. Charlie is proud of this--and of his dedication to the shop.



"All my life," he said, "I've never taken a vacation or a sick day. I never had any violations. And now this is the end of the world. My whole life went into this."

As he put away the many awards he received over the years, tears rolled down his cheeks and into his mask. It was not his choice to close the shop. This is not how he wanted it to end.



The rent, he said, is the number one reason for closing. And then the coronavirus, shutting down business. There's also the trouble with regulations, the slow-down in shipments of ammunition, and people buying on the Internet instead of from their local shop. Finally, Charlie said, “I’m old, I’m 74 years old, I was born in 1946, I am old.”

He'll be retiring after this. He hopes to travel, once the restrictions are lifted, and he's getting offers to teach and advise for security firms in Asia. He's considering it. But saying goodbye hasn't been easy.

A text came into his phone from his boss, Mr. Imperato.

“You are completing the mission,” he told Charlie.

“Thanks, boss," Charlie replied. "With my tears.”




Post Script:

I always loved seeing the three-dimensional sign and the colorful targets and posters in the windows of John Jovino. Last week, I wondered what happened to the antique wooden gun that hung from the sign.

On Facebook, I read that Charlie sold it to a man who makes gun sculptures.


via Facebook

He was very happy to get it and it's now sitting in a studio in Brooklyn before it is moved to Los Angeles. Another little piece of the city's heart.

For historical photos of the shop and its big revolver, see my previous stories here and here.


via Facebook

Gem Spa Dismantling Continues

The dismantling of our dearly departed Gem Spa continues today. After yesterday's removal of the lighted signs and yellow awnings, workers are carefully removing another, more delicate sign.



Previously hidden, the sign has GEM SPA painted on glass.



Owner Parul Patel tells me it appeared in a number of movies, including 200 Cigarettes (which I recommend only for the scenes of the East Village in the 90s--I wrote about it here).


200 Cigarettes

Parul told me the signs are safely in storage. She hopes that one day, on the other side of the pandemic, there might be another life for Gem Spa. Who knows?

In the meantime, there is still merch.

Vinny Peanuts

I missed this sad news, until I saw this memorial on a wall of plywood at Mulberry and Grand in Little Italy.



Vincent Cirelli Sabatino, lovingly known as Vinny Peanuts, died on April 13 from complications of COVID-19. He was 68 years old. His family posted the announcement on Instagram.

He ran Vinny's Nut House, a fixture on the corner for nearly 50 years. At the Feast of San Gennaro, the stand was always brightly lit and busy, with Vinny cutting big bricks of torrone with a knife and a hammer. It was a beautiful thing.



Vinny was one of the last holdouts of authentic Little Italy. As he told Pavement Pieces a decade ago, “There’s no more Italians left. There are no more stands like me. Before, there used to be 10 stands down just this one block that sold Italian food, just like mine. Now, I’m the only one left.”



I always got his lemon cookies, which were the best. Just the best.

Gem Spa Sign

It's happening. Right now. The Gem Spa sign has been removed from the building. The yellow awning is going with it.

Thanks to Michael Quinn for sending in these sad shots of the wreckage:



The word "iconic" gets thrown around quite a bit when it comes to New York's classic small businesses, but with Gem Spa, it fits.



Earlier this month we learned that Gem would be closing for good, felled by greed and coronavirus crisis, after decades of standing sentinel on St. Mark's Place, and after a long battle in which many of us tried like hell to keep it alive.



As long as the sign stood, it felt like Gem was still there, just waiting for the shutdown to lift, and maybe there was still a chance.

This is truly the end.

And into a U-Haul:

Update: Parul tells me, "We will be auctioning the signs, the gates, the egg cream fountain, and old milkshake machine. We are also trying to get the egg cream counter out and will auction that too if we can get it out. We are sad to be taking them down, but I did not want to leave it for the landlord to throw in the garbage or use it in the next business that comes there if they rent it to someone. It is going to storage for now and quite a few people have already asked to buy it."

Jovino's Gun

What happened to the wooden revolver hanging off the sign of John Jovino's in Little Italy? (See my update here on the fate of the sign--and the closing of the shop.)



It was there and now it's gone. Maybe they put it away for safekeeping during the coronavirus shutdown?



Jovino's has been in business since 1911 and used to be around the corner on Centre Market Place, before the block was luxurified by the Novogratz family. (I wrote all about it here.)

I don't know how old this particular Jovino gun is, but an earlier version of it shows up in a photo by the great crime photographer Weegee, who lived in a one-room apartment above the shop from the mid-1930s until 1947.


Weegee

The gun also made an appearance in the 1973 Al Pacino movie Serpico. It makes for a very photogenic antique sign and I hope it returns.

Movie Popcorn

If you miss going to the movies and enjoying a big bucket of popcorn, well, you can still enjoy one of those things. The wonderful Village East Cinema is selling movie popcorn to go -- including big, big bags of movie popcorn -- every day from 4:00 - 7:00pm.



So why not get your buttery fix and support a historic and beloved East Village theater at the same time? Win win! (Get it at East 12th and Third Ave.)

I Happen to Like New York

Even though the New York Times and other major media outlets keep repeating the idea that New York City is dead in the coronavirus shutdown, let's not give up on it yet. There are signs of life out there. Even in grief and absence, the soul of the city is thrumming, playing in a lower register, quieter and more inward.

I made this short video from photos and films I've been taking around town since the beginning of the shutdown. The spirit of the city, the beauty and life, is here. You just have to look a little harder for it.

Gem Spa

VANISHED

Another nail has been hammered into the coffin of St. Mark's Place, and the East Village, as Gem Spa has shuttered for good.

The dearly beloved shop's owner, Parul Patel, confirmed the sad news. The landlord, she told me, would not reduce or freeze the rent during the pandemic shutdown, nor would he promise not to evict the business when they were late on rent at this difficult time. The debt just kept adding up and they could not go on.



We all knew this was coming, though we hoped against hope. Many of us tried to save it--converted it into a Schitibank, cash mobbed it, celebrated its bohemian history, raised money for it, even Quarantine Cash Mobbed it--but in the pandemic there is no bouncing back.

"It is heartbreaking," Parul told me. "We truly have the best customers in the world. We consider our customers to be family. I don't think any other business has seen this amount of incredible support and love."

Parul says she will keep the website going, with Gem Spa history and with merchandise for sale--check it out and buy some while it lasts, to support the Patel family and help them recoup their losses.



Mom and pops, already struggling under high rents and difficult landlords, simply will not survive the coronavirus crisis. They could have--if the city had any real compassionate, progressive leadership.

For years, New York's City Council had the chance to protect small businesses like Gem Spa. They could have passed the Small Business Jobs Survival Act. They could have passed commercial rent regulation. But they didn't. They did nothing. And now the city's already strained mom and pops are dying under the unbearable stress of the coronavirus shutdown. When the city finally reopens, there will be nothing left but the chains.

As Penny Arcade put it on Facebook, Gem Spa was "the beating heart of the East Village and The LES... No good can come out of it closing and, in the end, the erasure of history victimizes even the people who hurry it along."


my last Gem Spa egg cream, Egg Cream Day, March 2020

In a recent article, author Arundhati Roy called the pandemic a portal, "a gateway between one world and the next," in which humans have the chance to imagine a new world. The pandemic has brought the engine of capitalism to a halt, she says, "And in the midst of this terrible despair, it offers us a chance to rethink the doomsday machine we have built for ourselves. Nothing could be worse than a return to normality."

It is too late for Gem Spa and many others, but it is not yet too late for New York. Now is the time to press for real change in this city. We must not return to the terrible normal. We must demand a new world.


Previously:
Gem Spa History
Gem Spa to Schitibank
Gem Spa Not Vanishing Yet
Gem Spa Cash Mob
A Moment at Gem Spa

Paris Cafe

VANISHED

The Paris Cafe at South Street Seaport is no more. After being in business since 1873 and surviving the numerous trials and tragedies of history, including a comeback from Hurricane Sandy, it could not survive the coronavirus shutdown of the city.



On their Facebook page, they announced:

"To all our wonderful patrons and friends I would like to extend a sincere thanks and a fond farewell from The Paris Cafe. Through no fault of anyone but the outbreak of this virus we are unable to forge a way forward that makes economic sense. We had no option but to close our doors. Hope springs eternal and perhaps with a change in the economic climate we may find our way back. With all our hearts we say thank you for all the fun, friendships and laughter as well as the few shillings spent. My thoughts are with our lovely staff at this time and we would like to thank all who subscribed to our Go Fund Me fund which is gratefully appreciated by staff in need. Our friendships will remain strong and when the grey skies clear we will meet and be renewed."


Lee Remick in front of the Paris Cafe, 1960

(thanks to a different Lee for the tip and the photo)

Three Lives Goes Online

Good news! You can still buy books from Three Lives & Co. and support them through the coronavirus shutdown of New York.



They write:

We do have some exciting news for all of you who have expressed dismay at our temporary closing. The coronavirus has managed something that big-box bookstores, online booksellers, superstorms, and building maintenance have failed to accomplish: driving us to the Internet! We have belatedly joined the twenty-first century and are introducing an online ordering system, which we hope will fill the gap between now and our reopening. Here is how it works:

You can fill out an order form here. We will check on the availability of the books you want and get in touch with you directly to take your payment information. (We can only accept credit card payments at this time.) We are ordering from one of our regular distributors for direct delivery to our customers, which means we will be charging a UPS Ground fee of $7.95 for up to four books and $10.95 for five books or more.

You also can use the form to request gift certificates, which we will send to you via U.S. mail. And you are always welcome to order by emailing us at info@threelives.com if you would prefer not to use the form. We recognize that buying books remotely is not the same as browsing our physical space – we are itching to return too! – but we hope this stopgap measure will keep you in literature for the time being.

Robert Herman

The man who jumped to his death from the 16th floor of his Tribeca apartment building on Friday night has been identified as photographer Robert Herman. He left a note that read, "How do you enjoy life?"



Since the 1970s, Robert was one of New York's consummate street photographers, capturing the day-to-day life of the sidewalks with his camera and, most recently, with his iPhone. I met him once or twice, we had a similar love for the city, and he was always lovely and kind. He will be missed, along with all the photographs he will never get to take.

What follows is an interview I did with him here in 2013, on the publication of his beautiful book The New Yorkers, a vivid collection of his work from 1978 - 2005.


all photos by Robert Herman

How would you say the city of today compares visually to the city you captured in your book?

The city I photographed in the early 80’s is almost gone. Back then, it was a city of small businesses and storefronts. Where I lived in Little Italy, the shop owners would invariably recognize you when you walked in. Soho today is mostly a mall made up of corporate stores. I miss the graffiti that made for compelling commentary when juxtaposed in a photograph. The city is safer today, and I like that, but it feels less quirky and less alive.



I like the signage of the small, old shops, the clutter, which is lacking in the chains' facades. What do you think is the visual difference between small, independent stores and big, corporate stores? And what is the feeling those visuals give you?

The difference between the corporate stores and the independents is that the look of the signage and displays are determined at a corporate level and done for multiple stores at the same time. The local store owner is creating the look for their storefront locally, and in reaction to the environment and neighborhood. All of this is obvious, but it is the independents that create the feeling of specificity of place: "only in New York."



When I hear "only in New York," I also think of the people--people looking interesting, doing interesting things that can't be seen elsewhere. Are the people of New York as inspiring as they used to be to your photographer's eye?

The big difference today is that so many people are looking at their phones on the street, which doesn’t make for a compelling photo. Also, everyone is much more aware of the power of imagery because of social media. It’s harder to make a candid picture these days. The iPhone is a good camera for that, because it doesn’t attract attention like a big DSLR. It doesn’t scream "camera!" I’m very excited about a new body of work I’ve been making with the iPhone over the past three years in New York and around the world.



Can you tell us about that work?

The iPhone photos began when I learned about the Hipstamatic app. I liked shooting in a square format and this was an opportunity to do that without using a medium format camera, as I had in the past.

I started using the iPhone/Hipstamatic when I was in Johannesburg about three years ago. I wasn't comfortable using a big DSLR when shooting on the streets. So, to ease myself into it, I made pictures with the iPhone and was pleased with the images I was getting. After that trip, I began shooting this way because sometimes changing the equipment sparks a new way of shooting. Presently, I'm having a book of these photos designed. It will be the follow up to The New Yorkers. A street photography book for the 21st century.

Street photography presents the same challenges regardless of the technology used to make a picture. Be it a Leica M or an iPhone or a Kodak Instamatic. That is, being observant and making strong pictures.



There's a Starbucks in one of them! What are your thoughts about having contemporary chains in your photos? Are they interesting in themselves as symbols of today's city?

Life goes on, change is inevitable. I like Starbucks' blonde. What can I say.

Bookstores Are Essential

To slow the spread of coronavirus, New York is now on PAUSE, which includes the closure of all non-essential businesses. Essentials include grocery stores, liquor stores, pharmacies, hardware stores, and restaurants and bars that serve delivery and take-out only. Bookstores, however, are not, even though they also have the capacity to serve delivery and curbside pickup with social distancing.

Rebecca Fitting, co-owner of Brooklyn's Greenlight Bookstore, is leading the charge to get bookstores re-classified as essential and keep them open during PAUSE. She has sent a letter to Governor Cuomo, signed by several local bookstore owners, making the case for their necessity.


At Greenlight, orders packaged for pick-up at the door

"We are urgently asking that you recategorize bookstores across New York State as an essential service," the letter states. "In New York, both schools and libraries are closed and Amazon has announced they are de-prioritizing books and are no longer actively shipping them to consumers. This is alarming because at the moment, bookstores now serve as one of the last sources for New York’s students and families to access education materials. In addition, we also provide both children and adults with home education and entertainment materials which are a necessity during these long periods of social distancing and isolation."

As she notes, "New York bookstores already have safe distance protocols in place, many of which are offering curbside pickup or delivery, where there is no physical interaction with customers. Our products are sanitized and require no physical interaction when exchanged between employee and customer. In addition, having bookstores deemed essential services would allow us the ability to continue to receive and send shipments of books to our customers."

Finally, "Bookstores in New York are often family-owned businesses with close-knit teams. In all these cases, we would have a skeleton crew and practice the utmost due diligence of social distancing, hand washing, and sanitizing processes. This would allow us to continue to employ our staff and ensure the survival of our businesses too."


curbside pick-up at Three Lives & Co.

Yesterday I picked up books curbside at Three Lives & Co. in Greenwich Village. When I arrived, the doors were open and a table blocked the way, covered in packages of pre-ordered books for pickup. It was quick, easy, and everyone kept their distance. Today is their last day open and they are slammed with business--everyone is scrambling to get new books before shutting in.

*Update* The time for making bookstores essential has passed, but some store owners say that, after a period of PAUSE, it might be possible to return to a delivery-only system. Stay posted.

- Please continue to support your local bookstore through this time by purchasing gift cards for future use

- You can support the laid-off workers of McNally Jackson here

Quarantine Cash Mob--5 Boroughs

For this weekend's #SaveNYC Quarantine Cash Mob, please support these small businesses from the safety and comfort of your home by ordering take-out or delivery.



In Manhattan:
Zaragoza Mexican Deli & Grocery
Get some delicious take-out from this "unassuming East Village bodega that also serves what is widely considered to be some of the city’s best home-style Pueblan cooking" (NY Times).
215 Avenue A

In Brooklyn:
Grand Canyon
Offering take-out and delivery
Grand Canyon reopened in 2018 by one of its longtime waiters. They have all the great diner food you'd expect along with an excellent selection of Mexican food.
143 Montague St.
347-889-6670

White Tiger
Take out and delivery

Pequena
Take out and delivery


Gonzalo “Victor” Carreto, one of the owners of Grand Canyon

In Queens:
Neir's Tavern
Neir's is 190 years old, recently saved from a rent hike. They're offering take-out and curbside options.

In the Bronx:
Beatstro
Take-out and delivery

On Staten Island:
O'Henry's Publick House
Take-out
10 Minthorne Street
(718) 442-6200


O'Henry's owners Bobby Digi and Lisa McFarland

More Quarantined Cash Mobs:
- Three Lives & Co. bookshop
- Gem Spa

- Here's a list of more businesses to support and more ways you can help New York's mom-and-pops, and their employees, stay afloat while we all stay home.