Wednesday, February 16, 2011

*Everyday Chatter

Alphabets shutters on Greenwich Avenue after 16 years. Some says it's the closure of St. Vincent's that's killing small businesses here:


Quantifying "Sidewalk Rage" in the city. [RS]

Pissing all over Eldridge Street. [BB]

Good news: The Coney Island 8 may be getting leases for the boardwalk--a one-year reprieve from destruction. [ATZ]

Check out this documentary about New York City in 1977. [Stupefaction]

An obituary for 35 Cooper Square as the city approves demolition. [EVG]

The New School's Noir Fest is coming in April. [NS]

Remembering Times Square's Hawaii Kai with Jerry Rio. [COS]

Visit 365 Bars guy Marty Mombacher at his new blog: Marty After Dark.

Shells on Village Paper

Just as the lease has been finalized on the sad, burned-out Village Paper, and before it gets turned into Bobo, it's been plastered with a colorful 20' x 8' mural by Jay Shells--the dog poop and subway etiquette guy--and fellow artist Benjamin Hollingsworth.


my flickr

I got in touch with Shells over email and asked him about the piece. He told me that the mural was painted in South Carolina, where he and Hollingsworth collaborated for a show called "The Stock" at Gallery Bar on Orchard Street. Wrote Shells, "the main theme is helping others and an overall sense of community. it was really interesting to just attack a monster piece like this with someone you've only briefly spoken with over the phone. very challenging and very rewarding."

The piece did not sell, so the artists decided that the mural "should be donated to the public in a place where it would be appreciated." They picked Village Paper.


my flickr

As Shells explained: "this building on west 10th & greenwich burned up over a year ago and has just been festering, derelict in that space and needed some refreshment. what better location for an uplifting and colorful mural? so, i, with the help of a few friends, installed it there on saturday. i've checked on it every day and spoken to passersby about it and the neighborhood people seem to be digging it... it was for the neighborhood. i'm very pleased with its new home and i really hope it lasts a while."

This mural, spontaneously appearing, unsponsored, and unprotected by security cameras or guards, is exactly the type of street art alternative we need to manufactured "happenings" like the Houston Wall. (For a daytime shot, see NYCBlog.)


Read more about:
Village Paper
The Corner of 10th and Greenwich

Tuesday, February 15, 2011

Wang on Purple

This month, Fusion Arts on Stanton Street has mounted a show of photographs by Harvey Wang documenting the life and death of Adam Purple's earthwork The Garden of Eden. The show runs until February 20. I asked Harvey some questions about the work.


photo by Harvey Wang

How did you get into photographing The Garden of Eden?

I first met Adam Purple in 1978, when journalist Norman Green and I did a story about him for New York Magazine. I found him to be one of the most intelligent and interesting people I had ever met, and though I didn't understand half the things he was talking about, I continued to visit him over the years. He had been doing his own documentation of The Garden of Eden with a small box camera. As The Garden of Eden grew, he needed to shoot more and more pictures, which had to be arranged into larger composite images to show the whole site. I showed up one year with a 15 mm Nikon rectilinear lens, and from then on, Adam would ask me to come document The Garden's expansion. I enjoyed shooting the project because he was doing everything by hand, without power tools, which was remarkable. It was back-breaking labor, day in and day out. He cleared five lots of demolished tenement rubble, made the soil, and planted The Garden, reclaiming about one lot per year.

What did The Garden of Eden mean to the people of the neighborhood at the time?

Adam built a 4-foot-high Connecticut dry-stone wall with stones he had salvaged from the tenements that were being demolished all around The Garden. On top of the wall, he put bed springs and planted black raspberry bushes. All this was to protect The Garden, mostly from dogs, but not to keep people out. It was never locked. The Garden was always open for visitors. There were celebrations in The Garden--a wedding, a Rainbow gathering, other things. I remember Adam inviting people to plant their own vegetables. Kids were always around, planting things and eating what grew there. The Garden was open to the community, but it was also a radical political and artistic statement, which some people found unsettling. But for the most part, people really appreciated that there was this green oasis in the midst of a pretty rough area.


photo by Harvey Wang

You were present during The Garden's destruction. What do you recall from that experience?

I was present when The Garden wall was destroyed in September 1985. It took two days to destroy the wall, so there was time to get the word out to supporters. Many people were in The Garden when the bulldozers destroyed the wall, raspberry bushes, perimeter beds, and the sign. A few sat down in the bulldozer's path in an attempt to stop them. There were police and city officials as well. Adam never came out, and I am not even sure he looked out his window at the ongoing destruction. A few months later, on January 8, 1986, the city stealthily returned with a large rubber-tired construction vehicle, and ran over The Garden until the site was cleared. They didn't recycle or save anything. They just trashed it. All they left was the Chinese Empress tree, which stands today in the courtyard of the "Infill" housing project that is on the site.

It's been 25 years since the destruction and the Lower East Side has changed dramatically. Is there any way something like The Garden of Eden could ever rise again on the LES?

Real estate is too precious for something like this to be built nowadays. However, if The Garden had been built in our times, I am sure it would be celebrated because of its forward-looking message about living in balance with the natural world. Adam has to be one of the first people to talk about sustainability issues. It's still radical now, and was more so back then. Had Adam's original Garden survived, luxury condos would be built around it today, so it would be harder to appreciate the revolutionary idea it embodied. But it would be recognized as an important earthwork and artwork, and it would provide much-needed green space.


photo by Harvey Wang

Where is Adam Purple these days?

Adam is 80, living in New York, here and there. He still shuns gasoline-powered vehicles and uses his bicycle to get around. He stopped wearing the purple tie-dye after The Garden was destroyed, and mostly shares his passions about species survival on the internet via his Yahoo! group: speciesurvivalibrary.

I just heard a rumor from the Bowery Boogie blog that he may be behind the recent spate of Toynbee Tiles. What do you think? Possible or just an urban myth?

I doubt it. At this point in Adam's life, he's not trying to be enigmatic. He wants people to wake up and realize that our degradation of the environment could lead to the extinction of our species. That's what he was talking about when he was making The Garden, in his own unique way.

You've photographed and filmed so much of the city. What's next for Harvey Wang?

It's been an interesting period for me of looking back and looking forward. Later this year, the Tenement Museum is mounting an exhibit of my photographs from the 1980s in their soon-to-be opened building on the corner of Orchard and Delancey. The photographs document what was going on in the tenement neighborhoods (Chinatown, Little Italy, LES, East Village) in the late 1970s-1980s. I am also working on a documentary film about photography. There is a short documentary film by me and my wife Amy, called Adam Purple and The Garden of Eden, and it's having its debut at the Lower East Side Film Festival this month. I would like to see it play at other festivals, to get the word out about Adam and his work.

Monday, February 14, 2011

*Everyday Chatter

UPDATE: A full demolition permit has been submitted for 35 Cooper Square.... As the watch continues (see EVG for more), Sally Young sent in this shot from 8:30 this morning. The axe falls:


Support the San Gennaro Feast: Attend the CB2 meeting on Thursday 2/17 at 6:00. Click here for more info.

A tour of the boutiques of Nolita during Fashion Week, with no feast on, and with very little business. [youtube]

2/19: Party down to Save Coney Island. [SCI]

"Brooklyn is repulsive with novelists, it's cancerous with novelists," says Jonathan Lethem. "I do love New York, but it's also unbearable to me in some ways, and I compulsively leave it behind. It's not the best place to write. The mental traffic level is very high there." [LAT]

Goodbye Gowanus--the real estate boom begins. [Curbed]

Chelsea Hotel gets Doughnut Planted--artisanal sweets where Chelsea Guitars used to be. [Gothamist]

Who was Rear Window's "Miss Torso"? [VS]

Houston Street, your world has been adjusted:

Little Italy Valentine

The Italian Food Center opened on Grand and Mulberry in 1954. It more recently lost its lease and shuttered without much of a peep. A restaurant will soon be moving in. In the meantime, some of the metal siding has been removed along Mulberry, revealing brick underneath. On those bricks is a bounty of graffiti from an older Little Italy.



How old, I don't know--from the days before those turquoise metal sheets went up on the Food Center, whenever that was. Other signs of its age? The paint here was mostly put on with a brush, not with a spray can. And the language is old, from a more innocent time. There isn't a single "fuck" in the bunch.



There are "The Best Girls," aka, "The Great & Best," E.D. and C.D., their initials put on with some kind of faded mustard color. Were they sisters?

In blocky, black, brushed-on paint, there's The Mulberry...perhaps a missing word like Crew or Gang? Again, there's C.D. at the top, followed by a list of other initials. Who was C.D.? This would've been her corner, back in the day. I'm imagining a tough girl, a leader, with a name like Connie DiNucci or Carol-Anne D'Angelis. Maybe she favored toreador pants and bolero vests. Maybe she snapped her gum. Maybe they called her Connie from the Corner.



The names on the wall are from an older New York, too.

Nowhere is there a Josh or a Caitlyn or an Ethan or a Madison.
There's a Sal and a Marie. There are "Pals" John, Joe, and Anthony. Was Joe ever called Joey, as in Pal Joey? Whatever happened to the word pal, anyway?



And there is at least one couple, their love spelled out in what looks like Magic Marker, scripted in a tidy, girlish variation on the Palmer Method: Louise & Johnny.

It's Valentine's Day, however many years later, and I wonder whatever happened to these two. Are they still together? Did their love live as long as the valentine that Louise (I'm pretty sure it was she) inscribed here while sitting on Johnny's shoulders to reach the highest spot she could, high enough so no one could cover it with other names, high enough to be seen from down the block? Did their love outlive the Italian Food Center, too?

Louise and Johnny, C.D. and E.D., Joey and pals--if you're out there, let us know. Soon, your names, and all the others, will be covered once again and lost.

Friday, February 11, 2011

*Everyday Chatter

Hell's Angels, The Grateful Dead, and the Anderson Theater in the old East Village. [EVG]

Don't forget to check out Harvey Wang's photos of Adam Purple's Garden of Eden--now open until 2/20 at Fusion Arts.

Main Street Ephemera to close. [LC]

Spending time among the painfully hip of Brooklyn. [NYT]

On the Cedar and the "ugly, empty shell of a yanwsomely utilitarian workspace" that replaced it. [FP]

Schizo New York

There is a split in the city. A schism. It's often expressed architecturally--the war between old and new, the radical shift, the loss of bricks to glass and sheen.



They get rammed together, cheek by jowl.



A sleek high-rise hotel abuts a tenement.



One half of a synagogue is smashed and sheathed in glass for a new boutique that only sells things in white.



A condo's cock-eyed balconies cast their shadows on rusted fire escapes.



More are coming. Every day.



Lines are being drawn. Down the middle.



In the end, which side will survive?