Little House on 18th Street

When La Lunchonette closed on New Year's Eve, forced out of business after the landlord sold the building, I wondered what would replace it -- and what would happen to the little house behind the front tenement along West 18th Street.

Berenice Abbott photographed the house in 1938, along with its equally diminutive neighbor.


via MCNY

Probably dating back to the 1880s, the two structures are hardly changed today. One had clearly been a stable for horses. It still has its arched hayloft window.

The interior of the living space above the restaurant looks like a hayloft, with wooden beams and ceiling. But it won't be here for long.



La Lunchonette's owner Melva Max told me that the little house will be demolished. A new luxury condo is coming. People are excited about it because it's made of wood, it's designed by Shop, the architects who did the Barclays Center, and we're all paying for it, through a $1.5 million grant from the U.S. Department of Agriculture.

(If you've got some free time, check out what Shop's Vishaan Chakrabarti thinks should be done with the area south of Penn Station. Hint: redevelop the whole neighborhood--those manufacturing zones "have an enormous potential to be part of our new economy in New York City.")


475 West 18th, Shop Architects

Also falling to make room for the new building are the two galleries on 10th Avenue to the north of La Lunchonette.

Three businesses and five good old buildings, all gone for one more luxury condo.

And the High Line Effect just keeps on chopping 'em down.

The Ziegfeld

VANISHING

By now you've probably heard the news that the Ziegfeld movie theater will be closing after 46 years.



It is "not a movie palace from the golden-age of movie palaces," as James Barron recently pointed out. But it was modeled on them, upholstered in red velvet with crystal chandeliers and plaster filigree.

It is not the original Ziegfeld, opened in 1927 and demolished in 1966 against public protest. The original was meant for live theater, the Ziegfeld Follies, not movies. When it opened, Will Rogers said, "I hope you never have to put in a movie screen." But it did eventually become a movie house, before it was sold, razed (along with two apartment buildings), and replaced by a skyscraper.



When the current Ziegfeld opened, the owners celebrated its "space-age technology." Ziegfeld's daughter, Patricia, remarked, "Progress seems to do nasty things to tradition, doesn't it?" But, she continued, "tradition has been preserved in this new theater... I'm sure Daddy would have approved of it since everything is so Ziegfeldian."

On Saturday nights, for a short time, formal attire was required by moviegoers.



The Ziegfeld is also not--as many are saying--the last single-screen movie theater in Manhattan. For that, we still have The Paris, which dates back to 1948.

What the Ziegfeld is, more than anything, more than any other, is enormous. The auditorium is vast, with rows of red seats stretching back and up into the horizon. It was a thrill whenever a blockbuster played at the Ziegfeld because that's where you'd want to see it. Big movies need big screens in big auditoriums. And when you went to a movie there, it felt like a special occasion--like an event.



The Ziegfeld has history. Forty-six years is not a century, but it's still a significant vintage. And attached to that forty-six years is the name. Ziegfeld! So New York.

And with vitrines placed throughout the lobby, it also houses the Ziegfeld Museum, a collection of artifacts from the original Follies.

What will happen to the Ziegfeld Museum? To the costumes that once belonged to divas like Lillian Lorraine? And to the programs and photographs from other performers long gone? And the bust of Fanny Brice? What will happen to the bust of Fanny Brice?

Not to mention the weird "STORY OF THIS WOOD" plaque screwed to the wall, informing moviegoers: "Carbon 14-isotope dating shows this wood has been buried in a peat bog near Cambridge, England, since 2120 B.C."

What will happen to all that when the Ziegfeld becomes an upscale corporate event space?



The first movie to play in this theater, back in 1969, was Marooned, a space-age thriller. The last movie will be Star Wars, another story in outer space. What does it all mean?

We hear Thursday may be the last day.

During this weekend's blizzard, New Yorkers lined up to get inside. To say goodbye. They took pictures of the old place. They stroked the velvet walls. They stood in the long, wide aisles of the auditorium and bemoaned the coming destruction. One man looked up at the sky-high ceiling and said, to no one in particular, "Where else can you have an experience like this?"

Oyster Bar

No, not the one in Grand Central Terminal. The other one, over on 7th Avenue and 54th Street. You might remember it was forced out of business in 2014 after 55 years.

At the time, the restaurant's hostess told me that the new landlord refused to renew their lease. "I think she'll keep it empty," she said. "I think the building is coming down."

She was right.



The Oyster Bar has sat empty ever since--their neon sign moved to Delancey--and now plans have been filed to demolish the building.

New York Yimby reports that a 29-story, mixed-use building is coming to replace the Oyster Bar's building and its little neighbor:

"Retail will occupy the first six floors, filling 38,236 square feet. The seventh floor will be devoted to recreation space, and then the eighth through 19th floors will have three units each. There will be just two units a piece on the top ten floors, followed by a roof deck."

On it goes.

Lenox Lounge For Rent

Recently, I took a walk by the once glorious Lenox Lounge. After three years, the building is still sitting empty -- and up for rent.

What happened to all those grand plans to take over this piece of Harlem history?



After 73 years in business, the club served its last drinks on New Year's Eve, December 31, 2012. The landlord had doubled the rent, from $10,000 to $20,000 per month, essentially forcing owner Alvin Reed out of business.

Richie Notar, of luxury restaurant chain Nobu, was taking over the spot. At the time, many suspected this was another--call it a history grab, like the takeover of Rocco Ristorante, Bill's Gay 90s, Minetta Tavern, and countless other historic dining and drinking establishments. Deep-pocketed new owners with mini restaurant empires like to cash in on the cachet that comes with the classics--after they turn them upscale, of course.

Instead of letting the newcomers profit on Harlem history, so infused in the club's aesthetic, Alvin Reed stripped the facade of the Lenox Lounge and took the neon sign with him.



In December 2013 Notar told the Daily News, “This is a gem of New York. I don’t want to change a thing about how it looks,” adding that the new club will be “not too much different than what it is now.”

Did he change his mind after Reed took the good stuff? He told the Daily News in 2015 that "the scope of the project (mostly the overall condition of the building) became bigger than anticipated," leading to delays. He has since moved on to another location.

After the closure, someone spray-painted on the plywood that covered the door: "1939 - 2012: 80 YEARS FOR THIS," pointing out the terrible loss. The message has since been painted over in black paint, but the accusation still lingers.

A local small business owner lost his business and Harlem lost a piece of its history so a landlord could double his money and a luxury restaurateur could expand his empire. And now? The Lenox Lounge is just another gutted storefront, another example of hyper-gentrification's "high-rent blight."



Walker Malloy has the real estate listing -- the landlord is now asking $40,000 per month for the lounge and its vacant neighbor.



Meanwhile, across the street, a massive new building is going up, with a Burlington Coat Factory and a Whole Foods inside.

The Starting Line

VANISHING

Adding to the ever dwindling number of gay businesses on Chelsea's 8th Avenue, The Starting Line will be closing.

They've been in business here for about 26 years, according to tipster TJ. Currently, they're having a 30% off everything sale, and will likely be gone in about a month.


photo: NY Mag


Previously vanished along 8th Ave:
Camouflage
Rainbows & Triangles
The Unicorn
The Rawhide

Tammany Hall Empties Out

Last spring, Curbed reported that the Tammany Hall building on Union Square East will be topped by a large glass dome as part of a major renovation.

As you can see from the before-and-after renderings, all the small businesses currently on the first floor have been removed from the future vision.

That removal is happening.



I went by the find the owners of the magazine and smoke shop closing their gates for good.



Frank's Wines & Liquors is draped with a large CLOSING SALE! sign. Inside, I was told that "the landlord is redoing everything." They've been there at least 40 years and don't expect to be reopening.

The Trevi Deli on the corner is already gone.



Around the corner on 17th Street, the building housed two cultural institutions, the New York Film Academy and the Union Square Theater.

The Film Academy has now moved down to Bowling Green. They'd been in the Tammany building since 1994.



The Union Square Theater has also closed. Its long-running show, 39 Steps, had its last performance earlier this month.

I poked around inside to find the place a wreck. According to DNA, the theater will be gutted and "replaced with retail and offices."

It's been hosting shows since at least 1985.



What sort of businesses do you think will replace these small businesses and cultural institutions? Well, almost every single thing around Union Square Park is a national shopping mall chain. (Here's a list.) Those that aren't, like Blue Water Grill, tend to be upscale.

The Tammany Hall building was a final remnant of the old Union Square, holding the last collection of low-rent independent businesses and cultural centers on the park.

What's left?

The Sock Man

VANISHING

Since 1983, The Sock Man, aka Marty Rosen, has been selling socks on St. Mark's Place. Now a reader writes in to say the end is near.



She says that Rosen is "being forced off St. Mark's Place forever due to Real Estate tyrannical fascism. It breaks my heart to help him pack up the store."



E.V. Grieve broke the news yesterday, noting the last day of business may be January 18.

With Trash & Vaudeville going, Sounds going, and pretty much everything else gone, St. Mark's is dead and keeps on dying. Like many of those old-school spots and their proprietors, Rosen embodies the vanishing neighborhood spirit -- curmudgeonly, idiosyncratic, the real deal.

Chloe Sevigny once called him "the grumpiest man on Earth. He's like the Soup Nazi, but he sells socks."

Rosen embraced the moniker, replying, "I'm the Sock Nazi."



He's also got a fine-looking #SaveNYC sign hanging prominently in the Sock Man window. So what can be done to save the Sock Man? Nothing--absolutely nothing can be done--unless we get City Hall to make real change. Here's one thing you can do right now.