9 posts tagged “brooklyn”

I have had quite a good streak of luck with the millions of projects I've been working on the last few months. Most of them never make it farther than my bedroom, but in some instances, they actually materialize.

Here's a review of the M.I.A. show I attended as part of CMJ this year:

http://lifeinabungalo.com/2007/10/20/mia-at-terminal-5/

Gothamist, the amazing NYC web zine has also picked up two of my photos:

The first is a shot of an amazing, unique Bay Ridge Brooklyn home decoration

http://gothamist.com/2007/10/28/extra_extra_680.php

The second is one of my 2007 NYC Marathon pictures:

http://gothamist.com/2007/11/05/running_the_mar.php

Thanks
Michael/Evil PR Guy

Maybe you know me and my predeliction for all things Victorian. John Ruskin. I have had the hots for Charlotte Bronte since I was a teenager. I aspire to one day be William Morris, and be able to successfully write novels and poems, design buildings and print beautiful books. It's easy to take inspiration from people who have been stone cold in their graves for more than a hundred years, but Brooklyn has one place where the Victorians still speak each and every day. The Green-Wood Cemetery, founded in 1838 in the Gowanus Heights is the largest concentration of Victoriana in NYC, yet so few New Yorker's I know even know it exists. Allow me to blow up thy spot for a bit.

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If you take the N/R Train to get to the cemetery, you'll pass a strange little building on the corner opposite the gates. This is the McGovern-Weir Florist, and this building is unique in the Five Boroughs. Legend has it that this glass topped, slightly soaring and beautifully ramshackle structure was brought to Brooklyn after the 1904 St. Louis World's Fair.

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The sign, as well as the verdigris copper roof is brilliant. McGovern-Weir is still a one hundred percent functioning business, so it's easy to slake your thirst for a view of the inside of this building. I'm a sucker for decaying copper.

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It's a tidy little building on a somewhat untidy block. Strangely, breaking out a serious looking camera seems to make the natives chatty, and here was no exception. A young father and his kids were throwing around a football, and seemed curious why I was shooting so many frames on their block. Unbidden, he told me the house next door had, 'A long strange history. Oscar Wilde stayed there once.'  That is an odd Victorian coincidence. I haven't been able to verify this. It may be possible, Wilde definetly visited NYC for a while, but the particulars are somewhat vague. Hit me if you know.

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'A dreaded sunny day, so meet meet at the cemetery gates. Keats and Yeats are on your side, Wilde is on mine...'  I couldn't resist throwing in that Smiths quote, because it fits perfectly. Green-Wood has an entrance  worthy of the serious business of dying that goes on inside. The gates at the 25th Street entrance, are slightly newer than the rest of the site, having been put into place in 1860's. The pillars are Indiana Limestone, and the iron gates have just received a fantastic restoration by Jurgen Scoda. You will feel quiet and humble as you pass inside. This is architecture with a purpose, to effect the humans that interact with it. This is often missing in our modern environment, we moderns don't like to be humbled so often by our own creations.

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The Gatehouse is one of the  best examples of Victorian architecture anywhere in NYC, and possibly anywhere in the United States.Designed by English born architect Richard Upjohn, and built between 1861-1863 every inch of this buildings is beautifully detailed.  Don't forget to look up. Above the entrance ways are well preserved Bas Relief carvings grouped around the theme of Christian resurrection.  This buildings is also home to famous  Brooklyn Parrots, which you can see nesting and wheeling about most of the year.

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After passing through the gatehouse, you are no longer in the land of the living. Pop a coin in Charon's hand; you have crossed into the land of the dead.

The Green-Wood Cemetery gets my vote for the most peaceful place anywhere in New York City. Even on clear, beautiful days, it's so quiet you can hear the wind whistling over the tombstones. There isn't a Yoga class that can hold a candle to this place.

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If you act like a yahoo, this gent on the left is sure to make an appearance in your dreams.

Situated in a slight dip in the geography is the Green-Wood Chapel. The chapel has recently been restored, and is less creepy than most churches. The doors are usually open for observation and poking around. The outside is somewhat dour, but after all we are in a Victorian Necropolis, but the inside is quite 

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inviting. Again, remember to look up. There is an outstanding chandelier hanging from the ceiling that is worth checking out.
I also noticed that an overly chubby pussy cat has

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taken up residence in the chapel. This photogenic fellow is one of the living residents of Green-Wood. He appears to have a fan club that takes care of him, and looks to be far from the starving alleycats that are everywhere in Brooklyn.

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I'm much more of a dog person,but I figure every graveyard worth its' bodies needs a tabby cat.

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As you move away from the gates, you begin to soak in the real character of Green-Wood. It's spare at best, in the best meaning of the word. Sure there are gravestones, but there are  mausoleums as well, which aren't quite so common in the U.S. Each of these free standing tombs is an architectural masterwork in miniature. I'm personally partial to the pyramids. The Victorians were just discovering  Ancient Egypt, and it's surface influence pops up all over Victorian culture, especially with anything having to do with The Dead. The Egyptians had there entire culture pointing towards the afterlife, and the Victorians have taken this same tact in  many ways. Through a strange twist of fate, of once spent quite a bit of time in New Haven Connecticut, where there is an enormous Victorian necropolis, with a giant moniker carved in stone above its' gates that reads, 'And The Dead Shall Rise Again', with some faux Egyptian stonework.

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Up on her high horse, we a fantastic statue of Minerva, the Roman goddess of Wisdom and Artifice. Strangely, this isn't the only statue of Minerva in Green-Wood. When they weren't appropriating the Egyptians, they were looking back towards Ancient Rome. Those Victorians.

Overall, the condition of everything at Green-Wood is absolutely stellar. The grave stones, the tombs and the grounds are perfectly kept, and there isn't a shred of litter of vandalism anyplace that I've ever seen there, and I've been wandering around this place for a long, long time. I have always wondered, what happened to my ladies' head here? She doesn't seem to be part of any specific grave site that I 

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noticed, which may be why her head is missing. Vaguely reminiscent of Winged Victory of Samothrace because of her decapitation, be sure and pay this statue of visit. She isn't much for conversation, things being what they are, but it is an exquisite little piece of art. In the past I have entertained the idea that she may have been constructed without a head, as a nod to the Greeks or Romans.
Up on a little hill, opposite the small pond with the mobs of geese, is an elaborate little temple tomb. Ringing the tomb are some scary, snarling, teeth bearing wolf heads that are worth a close up look. Possibly they were placed on this tomb to scare off evil spirits so the interred could rest in peace?

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Even through years of weathering, I wouldn't want to meet this fellow in a dark alley. His teeth are still sharp as hell all these years later.

Graveyards play funny tricks on your mind, and play tricks with light and shadows on your visions. Every now and than you capture a specter with your Nikon.

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Here is the shadowy alter -ego of your narrator stalking the paths of the The Green-Wood cemetery to let you know what's going on in NYC.

One feature of Green-Wood that I have always loved are the amazing little signs that delineate the various pathways and roads that criss-cross and ring the whole place. These are much more than ornamental touches. It's terribly easy to get hopelessly lost in here.  I once became so lost in Green-Wood, during the most insane summer deluge, that the rain actually destroyed my notebooks in my backpack and broke my cell phone. If you visit, try to make a mental note of the little signposts that pop up frequently. They are wonderfully made, have quaint yet beautiful names, and are actually useful for navigation.

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Here you can see the sun starting to set over the sign for 'Sunset Path'. I really enjoy the sharp edges and spear like protrusions on these signs. They could have been boring little informative rectangles, like we use now all over New York, but they aren't. The Victorians were just better than us.

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On the right is a modern grave with a small covered votive. This makes me think of the relics that seem to cover every inch of Italian churches. Looking at pictures of The Dead, while among the dead lends a certain immediacy to living, I think. I agree it is also creepy.

When approaching the crest of the largest hill in Green-Wood, you'll start to make out a terrific panorama of tombs, the lake, and views of Manhattan, Brooklyn and Jersey City on a clear day. At the bottom of the hill is a miniature
Monticello esque round Roman temple.

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The siting looking down on this tomb is brilliant. I love looking at it, and I think the notorious cranky
Olmsted and Vaux are looking down with approval. Hey guys, this is laid out much better than your Fort Greene Park, right? Of course you disagree. Well, at some point in the future we'll have quite a bit of time to work this out amongst ourselves fellas.

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Just like in the land of the living, in the land of the dead, only the wealthy get to live and build on the shoreline. This chapel, sitting on the shore of the lake, is a fitting monument to the excesses of wealth. The copper doors have an outstanding patina of green verdigris, and the mini cupola on top is a tacky way to display your cash into the afterlife.

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It's hard to beat the view though. There are much less beautiful things you could be watching for eternity than this.

The Egyptians definitely thought you could take it with you. The Victorians did as well, but being a bit more civic minded, instead of snuffing out their pets for burial, they settled for nice statues of the same. I really love this hound. Him and his partner are guarding there masters bones for all eternity, remaining perfectly loyal down through the ages. I much prefer this type of eternal guardian to the bloodier Egyptian version. I make certain

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to pay these two a visit every time I visit Green-Wood. Be sure to give them a scratch on the ears. They're quite friendly as long as  you don't mess with their master inside.
I'm not sure who's buried in here. It's no one that I know, but between the dogs and the gorgeous Neo-Classical gate, I'm certain he had good taste.

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This casting reminds  me of Edwards Byrne-Jones. I imagine its' creator was familiar with his work, at least through prints or engravings.
In Full Metal Jacket, Joker gives a bit narration where he says, "The Dead know only one thing. It is better to be alive". This swan, swimming along and minding his own business, seems to know that better than anyone.

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One recurring theme, seen on all manner of tombs and headstones everywhere in Green-Wood, is Freemasonry. Ringing the lake, there is a huge cluster of Masonic graves. Many have the compass and rulers of the Masons. Quite a few others have carvings of the All Seeing Eye. The Masons were a hugely influential force in The Colonies, and all through the Victorian era, and the abundance of symbolic graves pays tribute to this.
I love a good conspiracy as much as the next guy, but not really convinced that they're controlling the world at the moment. Either way, the  Masons are heavily represented here in Brooklyn. This tomb also reminds me of time in New Haven, 

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where similar symbols point to the home of Skull and Bones.

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More than anything else, I appreciate Green-Wood as a place of extraordinary beauty, smack dab in the middle of New York City. Beauty can be thin on the ground in the Five Boroughs. Don't take that the wrong way, New York City has no bigger booster than myself, but truly gorgeous things are not exactly what NYC is known for. They're there, but this isn't Paris, where the truly beautiful is spilling into the gutters. We have to work a bit harder to finds views like the one above left.

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I like the austerity of this simple stone slab above ground tomb. It reminds of something the Etruscans may have left behind in Tuscany. This is a sturdy structure that I'm certain will  outlast all of us by a huge margin. There's something to be said for solid engineering, even to house the dead.

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On the opposite end of the lake, as you climb up the hill, you can catch more sweeping views of Jersey City. That tall, fairly hideous building in the distance is Liberty One, the tallest skyscraper in New Jersey.

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He may be remembered for telling young Americans to "Go West", but Horace Greeley, is firmly entrenched in East Coast soil for all time.  That's my wife taking in the bust of the former New York Tribune founder. His grave site is quite elaborate, with a copper bust, a few tableau's below, and a ring of relatives buried around him on lower ground. Strangely, Mr. Greeley is facing East. I wonder if that's an oversight, or is symbolic of him turning his back on the West because he's a New Yorker?

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That's Mr. Greeley getting busy on his old-school printing press, preparing another issue of the New York Tribune.

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Truthfully, my knowledge of the U.S. Civil War, is much spottier than it should be. I think I spent most of that year of high school smoking pot in the student parking lot. I do know that U.S. Grant was stationed for quite some time in my Brooklyn neighborhood, Fort Hamilton. It would make sense that his personal doctor, and his wife, are buried at Green-Wood. Remember folks,, the spirit of Grant and Douglas is with us when we Defend the Fort at all Costs!

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I really love graffiti. Especially old graffiti. This is only 40 years old,much younger than just about everything else in this place, but I find it very interesting how the words carved into this tree have grown and spread over time. You can see 40 years of tree growth in a second, that's something you won't find in a science textbook, but seems to illustrate the passage of time in a place that has changed very little in the last hundred years.

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This monster tomb sits on top of a hill, and  belongs to one of the wealthiest, most famous old line New York City families. I'm not going to tell you who. I want you to make the trek and figure it out. It's worth the trip here, which is the whole point of why I do this. I'm only interested in people exploring the city and learning something new.

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So stop. Take a look around. Notice the details, like the cast iron base holding up said stop sign. Green-Wood is really a unique place in New York. Sure there are other burial places, like Cypress Hills, and the two Marble Cemeteries, or the wonderful churchyard at St. Paul's. Green-Wood is different. I've been here dozens of times, and there is still so much I haven't seen. For instance, Basquiat is buried here, but I've never stumbled upon his resting place. I'd like to offer you this piece of advice. They lock the gates at 4 pm. For real, they will lock you in. I'm not kidding. As beautiful as it is here, I don't think any of us are quite ready to take up permanent residence yet. 
Until next time, keep it Victorian kids. - Sexy Jesus

One Day a year I wish I wasn't a New Yorker. The trains are over packed and running on a 'Holiday' schedule, which means they're barely running at all. The gutters run with vomit.  Every yahoo and dumb tourist in America jam the sidewalks, wandering five abreast in slow moving gaggles that prevent everyone from getting anywhere. People who are normally teetotalers drink too many sweet shots with names like 'Hot Sex' and walk in front of taxis. Non-homeless people take shits on the street. All this can only mean it's that time of year once more - New Year's Eve in The Big Apple.

When I was younger I used to look forward to New Year's Eve. When I was young I used to also wear pants that wear 8 sizes too big for me and pull my hair back in a ponytail, so I think there's something to said for gaining wisdom along with age. For the past five or six years, I've done my best to flee the boroughs on New Years's, and not return until the once a year party crew was safely hung over and out of commission and the  city safe for New Yorker's once more.  I decided to  take advantage of  a few work free days to make the trip down to Philadelphia for some Colonial architecture, boozing with friends and a chance to watch grown men wear dresses and play banjos while 9 year olds drink Yuengling on the streets during the world famous Mummer's Parade.

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Philadelphia was a booming city when the U.S. was founded, and many of the buildings put up there reflect  the economic and social rank of Illadelphia. For a city of just under a million inhabitants, Philadelphia has a disproportionate amount of outstanding Victorian buildings, like this outstanding beauty on the left. I have a soft spot for towers and turrets (maybe it's all that time I spent playing D and D as a kid...). When placed correctly,and in proportion, a tower can add a mysterious and stately air to an otherwise run of the mill home.

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I am especially intrigued by the three triangles that make up the facade of this home.  There are a handful of homes along these lines in New York, mainly in Victorian Flatbush, but in West Philadelphia they are everywhere. One of New York;s fatal flaws, which can also be seen as one of it's best features, is the obsessive view towards the future. We're so obsessed with looking towards tomorrow that we often level the past, destroying older buildings, for newer, bigger ones. Unfortunately, very little of Victorian New York remains, so we have to travel 90 miles South to get our fix of Victoriana.

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Through happenstance, I was staying with friends who live across the street from The Tower House, which offered me the rare opportunity to photography a building during different lighting conditions. This is something I rarely get to do during my architectural picture taking odysseys, so I felt duty bound to take advantage of it. Light can change so much about a building. There are even quite a few architects who've made their name wholly through the play of light on their works.

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Some part of Philly have been through hard times. There are entire neighborhoods that have been bombed out since the sixties and show no signs of a speedy recovery. While this is sad in many ways, it also offers the architectural explorer some rewards in the form of abandoned buildings.  While most of my architectural ramblings limit me to the outside of a building, I'm a big fan of the maxim 'Hey, if nobody else is using it, what's stopping me?'. It would be a waste to let a building go undocumented, right? The friends I was staying with brought me by this abandoned find on the way to the train station, and I couldn't resist a quick run inside. A building as big and gorgeous as this would have had its' potential recognized and been turned into condo's long ago in New York, so Irarely have these types of opportunities.

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The first thing I noticed about this  home  was the cement wall surrounding the  property, with trim painted green to match the home beyond the enclosure. We could go one for months about the ramifications of having a wall around a private home in a city. Endless amounts of theory has been written by architects and sociologists about this topic, along the lines of public versus  private space, a persons ability to control the streetscape or even the more mundane issues of privacy and security. It's a good discussion that I'd enjoy having, but here, in order not to derail this discussion of Philly architecture, I'll ignore all that theory, and just say that in this case, the wall around this home is a nice architectural feature that sets this home apart from its' neighbors both physically and aesthetically. It looks good here. After passing through the wide open doorway in the retaining wall, I stumbled onto an overgrown garden that runs right up to an early 20th Century all cement construction with superb detailing. Supporting the roof of the rear porch, are iron lattice columns, constructed in a pattern reminiscent of the vegetation that has taken over he yard. Each of the columns has a similar, but slightly different pattern belying their hand crafted nature. This house has several gables set at odd angles, and their is nicely milled wood trim giving each a strong outline. real lead glass has a certain shimmer to it than the factory made glass

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we use today just can't match. The tiny imperfections in each pane give them a certain sparkle, even on an overcast day like the one when I snapped these photos. The thin arch shape of the windows is mirrored in the doors, and both have very thin trim dividing the panes adding quite a bit of unique character. Nothing about this home is cookie cutter, which immediately endeared it to me. It made me sad, as I was riding the train home through Central New Jersey, watching row upon row of identical McMansion's roll bye. In the recent past, there was a thinking human behind each and every building you walked past, and that person was apparent in the little details, like the things that have attracted me to this abandoned West Philly abode. When homes are being cranked out as 'efficiently' as possible, its' the little details that are the first to go. You see very few irregular pieces because they add time and cost to a construction project.

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On the far right of the rear of the house, is a room that is made of mostly very large windows, and appears that it was some type of extra large party room. The double height ceilings and open glass wall look perfect for hosting enormous wild parties, which I imagine had to be the original architect's sole intention in constructing a room like this. There was a dumpster out front on the street here, so i can only assume someone else sees the potential in this walled in corner lot. Next time I'm in Philly I'll be sure to swing through that block and take a look.

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Another nice architectural feature of West Philly is the rows and rows of good looking brick apartment buildings. Nearly every apartment building boasts at least one or two features that separate it from the standard brick box that most apartment buildings are. A cupola here, some dormers with nice verdigris encrusted copper molding or noble equestrian headed hitching posts out front. Philly does the little things extremely well.  For instance, a few years ago I was strolling around Queen Village with my little brother, a long time resident of Philly, and he pointed out a fountain set into the wall in front of a house. The fountain had a plaque attached that said it was put there so that carriage drivers would be reminded to take a break on hot days and give their horses a drink.

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Queen Village is a Philly neighborhood that has recently gone through a serious period of gentrification. It's a quiet nabe, filled with oak trees, narrow streets, fantastic Colonial and Faux-Colonial buildings, and my personal favorite feature in cities: alleys. My brother lived in Queen Village a few years back, before it went and got all fancy, and since I began visiting him in that neighborhood, I have always enjoyed walking around there because the buildings have so much character. On New Year's Eve, I had the opportunity to hang out on the roof deck of a friends apartment in QV to watch the

fireworks in the rain. Being four stories up in a city where most of the buildings aren't much higher than that, I was treated to a 270 degree view stretching all the way across the river into New Jersey.  The most dominant object in view is the 142 foot tower you see in photo #1162. This tower, officially 'The Old Sparks Tower' is quite an interesting piece of Americana, and is the oldest surviving Shot Tower in the United States. A shot tower? Before the days when everything was made in a factory in China, early Americans needed to produce oodles of shot to keep their weapons at the ready; I'll leave it up to you to decide if this is a good or a bad thing. Shot was made by puring melted lead through a tube at the top of the tower, and by letting it drop through the distance of the tower, gravity would form it into a sphere, then it would land in a vat of water and cool down, becoming shot. That's a very ingenious use of gravity to get the job done.

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Looking out over the city, towards the Ben Franklin bridge, was the perfect backdrop for ringing in the New Year with some fireworks, despite the rain and fog. This was my first attempt at shooting something as difficult as fireworks with my Nikon. It was dark. Fireworks move fast. They are both bright and dim. 
In the end I decided to offer a beer up the camera gods and just fire away, swapping settings willy-nilly on the fly, and to my delight some of the shots came out much better than I had hoped for.

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The City of Philadelphia really went all out with their fireworks display. There was a solid fifteen minutes of the really good stuff coming in every shape and color conceivable. I have to make special note of the grand finale, which actually was terribly grand. Most times, the grand finale of a fireworks display is a let down, but Philadelphia saved the best for last and the entire sky began to edge over to day light as the New Year began. There is something both hokey and heartwarming celebrating a New Year four stories off the ground with a sexy kiss asthe night sky explodes behind you.

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I began 2007 with a proper miracle the next morning. I woke up without a hangover.My plan was to wake up early, which I managed against all odds, and travel from West Philly, to South Philly to meet up with my brother and catch the Mummer's Parade. My brother has been regaling me with stories about the Mummer's Parade for a long, long time, and I've never actually , made the effort to have myself awake and in Philadelphia at 9:00 AM on New Year's Day. That's a big set of tasks to complete. This, I made the commitment, and my first order of business was to be in Philly, and awake at 8:00 AM. Done! When I stepped outside to call my brother to find out where to meet him, I was heart broken to learn that the parade was canceled due to rain. $#@!%$ I'll admit, the chances of me performing this New Year's Day magic trick in Philadelphia a second time, are slim. I may go to my grave without ever having the pleasure of seeing Froggy Carr or the Two Street Strutters live and in person. It seems if I want to see grown men wearing dresses I'll have to go to Christopher Street, and if I want to see 9 year olds drinking Bud pounders I'll have to make my way over to Coney Island this summer.

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I waited for my train at SEPTA's 30th Street Station, a cavernous rail hub designed by Graham, Anderson, Probst and White and completed in 1933. The decorative ceiling is way off the ground, and gave me light vertigo as I lined up my lens to snap a photo. At the rear of the main hall is a memorial to railroad workers killed in WWII, with an enormous statue of the archangel Michael. My favorite feature of teh station of the extra large, classically Art-Deco lamps hanging from the ceiling, which give a delicate impression despite their enormous size. sadly, I was rushing to catch my train, so I didn't get to enjoy the architecture of the station as much as I would have liked to.
Next time. Philly is a great city, and I find myself there often enough, so I'll be sure to fill you in on my next visit to gape at buildings. Be sure to check back in the next few days for my tour of Brooklyn Victoriana in Green Wood cemetery. Until then...Bikes, Books and Buildings is what it's all about yo.

This afternoon I was on my way back from the Fort Hamilton Post Office, walking along Fifth Avenue in Bay Ridge when I noticed some very thick, black smoke pouring out of an MTA access way in the street. People working in the stores and shopping along

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is one of my favorite pastimes, although I carry a Nikon as opposed to a Leica. As I joyfully snapped away, the smoke got thicker and thicker, and the smell was definetly that of chemicals and metal burning. It wasn't the almost cheerful smell of a fireplace, or the common, at least here in Brooklyn, smell of a building turning to ashes. It was more like the smell of my ancestral homeland, North Jersey.

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Even with the fireman about, and Con Ed standing around, the smoke was getting thicker and the smell was getting worse. My curiosity told me I should hang around, at least I would have something interesting to tell my wife when I got home. I've noticed, since I started carrying a camera everywhere the last few months, that when you're watching the world through a viewfinder it seems surreal, and brings about a degree of disconnect no matter how close you are to the action. This can be a both a positive and negative things, as I have heard Jim Nachtwey discuss with elegance. I was too busy lining up shots and checking the light to notice just how many people had stopped their lives to watch smoke pouring out of the street. I'd like to say it's something you don't see everyday, but in Brooklyn, it something you see about every other day.These photos were taken in very bright afternoon sunlight,

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although it appears it's dark out. That's how much smoke was building up in the streets. Since it was
mainly chemicals and metal that was burning, the smoke
was much heavier than air, and it sunk and covered the

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street, bringing dusk an hour or so early. It reminded me a lot of the way lower Manhattan smalled on 9/11, just less dense. It's a an odd smell, and one that's hard to ever forget.

One very drunk white guy in his 40's kept trying to cross the caution tape trying to get to a bar. He told me he stepped outside to have a smoke, no bad pun intended, and now he was stuck on the wrong side of the line and his beer was getting warm. We've all got our priorities, and nobody wants their $4 dollar beer getting warm.

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On the left, you can see my new Chasidic buddy. We started chatting,and after spending a few years living in Kensington, Brooklyn, I picked up a lot of Yiddish and Hebrew slang, so we quickly became disaster buddies. I told him I was in architecture school, and he asked if I ever worked down in the subways. Nope - those are the engineers, so I was basically as clueless as he was, though I imagined that it was a transformer burning up, because there aren't too many thing underground that can cause a fire like this.

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Then my buddy pointed to the hole and said, 'Look! Look! There are flames shooting out! Quick! Take a picture! Take a Picture!'. He was correct. Large flames were indeed shooting out of the hole in the street.
It's fairly difficult to take a good picture of an oscillating flame from 30 feet away, but I did my best.
I knelt down,shot the zoom all the way out and hit the shutter as fast as my camera would let me. I'm pretty

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certain that the fellows from Con Ed had abandoned ship by now and gotten out of the hole, because even the NYFD were backing up at this point. Me and my Chasidic pal probably should have done the same.
The smoke wasn't quite as dense as it was a minute before, but the flames were large and jumping a good 3 or 4 feet above the street at times.

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There was a festive mood on Fifth Avenue. The jolly Chasid, the Man Who Wanted His Beer Before It Got Warm, a beautiful Eastern Euro woman in fishnets, some kids from the Catholic school up the street, the woman from Dunkin Donuts eating munchkins outside the store, Con Ed and the Fire Department. With the Christmas decorations hanging above the street from the light posts, the fire fit right in.Nothing brings strangers together like a blaze.

A second later, an ear shattering explosion ripped through the air. All the manhole covers I could see in front of blew open and flew up into the sky. The oxygen got sucked out of the atmosphere where we were standing. Every car alarm for blocks went off all at once. Some type of powdery, but slightly substantial debris flew into my face, My Chasidic buddy grabbed my parka and screeched like a little girl. The crowd turned from jolly to panicking in a heartbeat. The lights went out in some of the stores and buildings. People began running down the side streets. The firemen hit the deck. Things went to shit quickly. More smoke poured out of the mystery hole.

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I was kept snapping shots, although I noticed that I was deaf in one ear.

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More fire belched out of the streets. I half expected to see Gandalf the Gray pop out of that hole, shortly followed by a whip wielding Balrog.
I figured out that the crud that hit me, and was resting in my hair and on my face, was actually broken pieces of asphalt from where the manhole covers had ripped from their moorings before flying into the atmosphere. Luckily, they landed on parts of the street that were not occupied by any of out merry band of gawkers. Flames continued flaming for another few minutes, and they the firefighters started spraying foam down the hole. I have quite a bit of respect for the NYFD - I wouldn't want to stand that close to a hole that contains elements of physics powerful enough to dislodge a blocks worth of manhole covers.

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The fire foam did it's work in a few minutes, and soon the flames were no more, and we were suddenly a crowd without  a purpose. Everyone went back into their shells, and the camaraderie that I have found only appears in the face of disaster when people quickly run up on mortality, faded.


Fifth Avenue slowly started to inch back to normalcy.
As you can tell from the photo on the right here, it was a bright sunny afternoon,

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but the smoke from the fire really changed the physical

appearance, and made it appear quite dark. I haven't gotten the 'Official' scoop from the 'real' news as to what actually blew up down there, but I'm certain the local Bay Ridge papers will have quite a bit to say about this. I didn't notice any of there reporters on the scene, but then again, I think they just make up their stories anyway.
Once again, I have cheated death. My own curiosity got me sprayed with burning asphalt, inhaling toxic fumes and dodging flying 75 pound manhole covers. I wouldn't trade it for anything.

I've never attempted to hide my geekiness. I played enough D and D growing up that I could have mastered several instruments in the equivalent time. I have participated in Magic: The Gathering Tournaments. With the help of my brother, I have sadly intimidated people younger than me while playing Magic The Gathering. I'm way, way, way into Road Bikes. I ride somewhere around 250 miles a week. I wear spandex shorts,  cycling jerseys, funny little cycling hats with matching socks.

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I was walking down to water this afternoon to continue my sketching and photo project about the Verrazano Bridge, when I came to the corner of 86th Street, which

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is the main shopping drag in Bay Ridge, when I noticed a fairly large line of people camped out in front of Circuit City. I'm not using camped out as a clever euphemism either. Some people in the queue, which wrapped around the block, had tents, blankets, air mattresses and fairly elaborate entertainment setups.

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I was curious to see what this was all about. Was Bono giving out free handjobs? Was Beyonce going to sit on the faces of the first 200 people in line? Was Mayor Mike holding a housing lottery where the first fifty people would get the chance to purchase an apartment for less then $1,000,000 (USD)?  After a few questions, I learned it was none of those things.

These fanboys were waiting for a shot to buy a  Playstation 3. I asked the fellows at the head of the line how long they had been there. Since Tuesday! This was Thursday afternoon. I asked when the Playstation 3's would go on sale. Saturday! I am amazed by their 

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commitment on one hand, but I am somewhat disgusted by the whole scene on the other. What bothers me most is these poor folks have been duped into sacrificing days of their lives just for a chance to get a product from some horrible corporation that could give two shits about them. Sony sues grandmas who use Limewire. They package spyware in their legitimate software. Sony are a bunch of creeps.  The people waiting in line gain nothing  but a chance to blow their money. That's scary. It's not like waiting in line for a concert ticket, where your wait will hopefully get you a unique and worthwhile experience.Something you'll hopefully remember with a smile until your brain turns to mush and you don't even remember how to control your bowels. When you wait in line for Playstation 3, you get a chance to have $600 bucks disappear from your pocket, for a product you'll be able to get by just walking into a store in two weeks.

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The horrible truth is Sony Corp., through commercials, bought magazine articles, paid for blogs and rampant hype has suckered these people into believing that they will be special if they are among the first to buy this product.These two young ladies have been sleeping in a

tent, eating egg and cheese sandwiches, basically simulating the life of a homeless person for five days. This is the basic equation: Live like a homeless person on the sidewalk on the side of an extremely busy Brooklyn thoroughfare = gain the possible chance to spend $600 rocks to be the first to have a video game system that according to first reports doesn't even work correctly.
 
I know that Colnago only makes 50 units a year of certain models of their bikes, and I have Colnago lust bad. You won't find me playing homeless to get one. The point being, this is degrading. No company should treat their customers this way, or encoyrage to act this way and live an inhuman existence. This isn't like the guys dresses up as Chewbacca and Obi-Wan; they all have huge smiles on their faces. The Playstation line dweller all seem miserable, and there isn't a smile to be found. Except this guy with arms raised and fingers out thrist. Him and his mother were certain they would be victorious.

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They just seemed really stoned to me. His mother kept trailing behind me the whole time I was snapping photos asking me how much she could sell her PS3 on Ebay for. In a few of the pictures, you'll notice a woman with a blanket over her head. She told me she had to cover her face, because she told her boss she was extremely ill, and couldn't come to work for a week. So she could wait in this line in front of Circuit City. She was worried her boss might see her in a picture and she would get busted.

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These folks jumped onto a nearby wireless network and were sending regular updates to a PS3 forum, as well as checking out the current PS3 auctions on Ebay. If you didn't know that these people were waiting for a PS3, you would probably think that a shanty town had sprung up in Bay Ridge. It certainly smelled like one had. Everyone was in pretty bad humor, and they still had another two days to go.

I think the part that bothered me the most, was a conversation I heard two Circuit City employees having, around the far side of the building, away from where the queue was. They were joking with each other that there were originally 20 PS3's for sale, but the manager and employees had grabbed 10 for themselves and there friends. The manager told them that if people waiting asked how many PS3's they had, to say enough

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for everybody. The huge line outside was great publicity for the store and for the PS3 launch. These are just my random thoughts I want I think is a really bizarre, but very sad situation. I originally thought I would have a grand old time posting these pics and tearing these people apart. Now, I find that while I'm glad I took these photos to document an interesting phenomenon, that phenomenon is ultimately a sad one, that shows off very well the horrid levels to which modern society can drag its' people down.

There are certain books that I find myself going back to again and again, year after year. In a few cases, I have actually read these books to the point of disintegration.

Rembrandt's Eyes

AIA Guide to New York City

these boroughs contain an enormous amount of amazing structures that rival or best their prettier sister across the river. The AIA guide is to other NYC guidebooks what the OED is to dictionaries. These other guidebooks are amateur hour. The AIA guide is physically enormous : 1,055 pages and weighing in around 5 pounds. It most resembles the bricks it deals with. This is the guidebook that has info even the most seasoned New Yorker's would strain to know. It details, many times with a picture, always with an address and witty commentary, every building of even slight architectural worth in all Five Boroughs. I have been a huge fan since I stumbled upon the Third Edition in 2000 while slogging in the dust filled trenches of The Strand Bookstore , and  I've suffered carrying  this beast around in my trusty Jansport since then.

I decided to take advantage of the creepily warm weather the past few days, and see what White and Willensky  had to say about my new adaopted Brooklyn neighborhood, home of disco, guidos, goombahs and the ever looming bridge, Bay Ridge.

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My tour began with a stroll down 72nd Street, and while searching for a certain old church, I stumbled onto a gorgeous remake of a Federal style house. Bay Ridge

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is a jumble of architecural styles, but unlike many other Brooklyn neighborhoods, people here seem to take  quite a bit of pride in their homes, regardless of style and importance. I'm not certain if it's because more people own their homes here, but each time I leave my apartment I feel as if I'm in Mary Poppins, because of how many denizens of the neighborhood are outside sweeping up their sidewalks. I'm still waiting for Julie Andrews to pop out of the hedges at the end of my block.

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There's some nice stonework over the portico of this church on 72nd street. Maybe I'm a sucker who grew up in an Italian neighborhood in New Jersey, but I have a

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soft spot for tacky lawn ornamentation, especially  wishing wells. You won't see one of these in Manhattan.

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(DSC0036) The Bay Ridge United Methodist Church, built in 1885 snagged my eye because of the nice opposition of green ashlar with real brownstone trim. One thing I've learned hawking out building over the years, is real brownstone is pretty real in NYC. Real brownstone was absurdly expensive, even a hundred years ago, and it's a soft stone. It doesn't last. The weather chisels it down mighty fast, so quite a bit of what appears to brownstone isn't. This is the real deal.

There was a time when people cared about learning, and knowledge was a valuable  commodity. I'm not talking MP3 copyright's either. Gears for the engineers? Harps for the musicians? Lamps of knowledge? Stylised swirling atoms? On the front of the Bay Ridge Branch of The New York Public Libraryis this beautiful cast iron homage to learning. The rest of the building is a somewhat hideous mid 60's take on modernism that doesn't deserve a picture, but here is something unique and beautiful. I'm no hater of the modern world by any means, but these symbols here bring me back to a time when people cared deeply about learning, beyond the monetary rewards it can bring a person. C'mon, there's a harp, for g-d's sake.  I hear the newest brand of the NYPL will have dollar signs and a stylized M-16 carved into the window arches.

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As a child, these Fallout Signs were allover my grammar school, and gave me Cold War nightmares. I'm glad they're still around to scare todays children. Although, by  now we know that  a few inches of concrete won't do squat to protect anyone from a nuclear explosion, nevermind the fallout. Radiation proof desks anyone?

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As I was snapping these photos, I noticed a large apartment complex was on fire down the bloc. Then I noticed the Eyewitness News van, and I thought to myself, 'Wow, they must be psychic or have set the fire themselves, because they beat the NYFD here!'. On the other side of the news van, I saw Miss Sexy News Reporter, who looked at me, a bit puzzled and said 'What the hell is going on here? Is that building on fire?'.  They do an amazing job teaching the powers of observation at those journalism schools, eh?
It's probably something I picked up during my years living in SoHoin Manhattan, but I

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am enamored with NYC's cobblestone streets. It's a great suprise to walk down some block and find these leftovers from New York's gaslight days. Most of the cobblestone streets have been paved over by now,  but here  and there  you'll get a chance to play Victorian New Yorker. This is a quiet little block just off 3rd Avenue. Those are my limited edition Nike Pele kicks

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for the fellow sneaker whores out there.

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Here's a gaudy but intricate tile mural, across the street from the Bay Ridge Masonic Temple. Completed in 1890, this building was originally the  home of the Exempt Fireman's Association. Exempt from what, we can only wonder.No longer a Masonic Temple, or home to the

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mysteriously exempt fireman, if you look closely at DSC0070, you can see the buildings Masonic heritage below the sign for the current owners, the New Hope
Fellowship.  This building wears its' past proudly. In
addition to the faded Masonic signage, the seals of the
old volunteer fire company are clearly visible above
the entranceway on the cornice, over the windows and
on the keystones. There are some Masonic symbols in the

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stained glass windows as well. If you have sharp eyes
you'll pick out the name 'Blythebourne', which was an
earlier incarnation of the Bay Ridge neighborhood.

White and Willensky call this building an 'archeology

lesson' above ground. That's an astute observation. Studying this building gives you an idea of how many different uses a building in Brooklyn serves over its' lifetime. Here's a closeup

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of the entranceway to help you pick up on all
this history.

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Here's a bit more fuel for the fire of my lawn ornament kitsch fetish - a nicely patinaed sundial  in a small private park dedicated to a local fireman who perished in the 9/11 attacks. A cheery homage to a sad event. Too bad it's locked and closed off to the public.I'm definetly of the opinion that all public should spaces should be just that - public and open. Fuck Gramercy Park and its' ilk.

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I'd like to nominate this schizophrenic duplex for my 'Worst Conceived Renovation in Brooklyn' award. Ouch! I understand every building wanting to have a distinct character from that of  its' neighbors, but c'mon? If you look at the apex of the roof, this horror is most apparent. I almost knocked on the door to let the owners know about their prestigious nomination, but thought better of it.I might get shot around here.

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The Flagg Court Apartments, buildt between 1933 and 1936 (Ernest Flagg, architect)are a stunning piece of efficient apartment design in the midst of the mostly single family homes in these parts. Ernest Flagg, who also designed the Singer Building and Scribner Building (one of my personal favorites) in Manhattan, really had his brain working overtime when he put this complex up. At the time it was built, it featured reversible exhaust fans, and outside shutters to regulate the temparature inside. Not a big deal now, but at the time this quite innovative. Additionally, Flagg Court was one of the first buildings to use finished concrete floors that double as the ceiling for the floor below. That's efficient architecture. Although locked, the courtyard with it's pseudo-Palladian temple and fantastic landscaping is quiet and beautiful. Compared to the average concrete monstrosities that pass as building courtyards in the rest of the cities, this is a hidden gem.

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Flagg court is the type of building that people deserve to live in, and Ernest Flagg definetly had living well in mind when he drew up the plans. Kudos Ernest. The fact that the buildings are still well kept and filled with people 70 something years later says a lot, especially here in New York, when buildings are redone or disappear every five years. I aspire to design buildings that accomplish these goals.

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The 'ridge' in Bay Ridge, refers to a huge piece of stone that moved here at some point during the last ice age, and which a good portion of the neighborhood is built on top of. One cool side effect of building a neighborhood on a huge glacial ridge is the  necessity of  step streets. In some places, the terrain is so steep that the Civil Engineers had to cut out slabs and  build steps to get up and down, because the grade is too step for any road or sidewalk to make its' way up.  This is a very cool and unique feature of Bay Ridge, and although I'm not certain this is the only place they exist in NYC, these are the only ones I've ever seen.

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Nothing like a trike. I'm  surprised I don't see more trikes around the city. They are great human powered workhorses, and you can carry plenty of groceries or what have you without having to worry about keeping your balance.

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The next few photos are from 76th street, and if you're a New Yorker, they may blow a hole out of the back of your mind they did mine. I am absolutely stunned that these homes, and this street is in Brooklyn. 76th Street is also a step street, and it is filled with brilliantly executed mansions. Real, honest to goodness mansions that would be more at home in Great Britain than Great Brooklyn.

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DSC123 is a Gothic Revival mansion, completed in 1900 and set up on a pretty impressive hill, at the top of  larger hill, which I'm certain must have great views of the narrows and the bridge from its' many tower windows. This house was built by  Dr. Elliot, the founder of insurance giants Blue Cross. With its' hexagonal tower, rough stone bridge over the driveway and place of honor at the top of a step street makes this my favorite private home in New York.

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I'd like to file this under 'Not In New York City'. Wow is really the only other thing I can say.







Also on the same block, although somewhat obscured by trees and foliage, but no less grogeous, is a Neo-Georgian stunner on a massive plot of land (massive for Brooklyn at least). The columned porch is something you don't see here everyday, and the side

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of the house, which faces the street is just as impressive. My wife said it looks as if the Whitehouse dropped out of the sky and landed in Bay Ridge, and I think she's right. This house was built somewhat 

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earlier than its' neighbors, being completed in 1865. I imagine at the time it was finished this part of Brooklyn was still bucolic farmland. Little did the owners know that an entire neighborhood would grow up round this neo-Georgian masterpiece.



This cannon is at the end of the mansion block, and it a somewhat fittingly stately

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piece of lawn kitsch. You can't put a pink flamingo on the lawn of a mansion, can you? You might in Brooklyn actually.

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A somewhat newer home, but still quite beautiful, with great proportions, rounds out my views of this quirky little Brooklyn nabe. Who would have known that any of this was here, except for the guidance of Willensky and White?

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One of my favorite designers is Carroll Shelby, and while I prefer his older Mustangs, this newer Cobra is still a tough rolling work of art. I was pretty amazed that I was fast enough on the draw with my Nikon to catch this guy tearing down the block.

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The detailed trim and bright, but non-garish colors make this home stand out. as you walk away from the mansions, towards the water, the homes shrink, but not by much. As they get smaller, the take a significant decline in architectural taste. The truth is, they start to get gaudy and ugky fast. This little charmer is a noted exception.

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DSC0171, finished in 1892 is set apart from its'neighbors by its' massive tower. Although it doesn't face the street, the entrance is through the octagonal tower on the southern edge of the home. This is officially a landmark home, but its' not really to my taste.It may be because it has been refinished with ugly cheap looking brick and bad landscaping.

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You can get a better look at the tower in the second photo below (DSC0175) and see what I mean about the poor choice of finishing materials. Money can't buy taste. This would be a wonderful looking home if it were finished with more appropriate materials that fit the style of the home.

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Just as I finished picking my jaw up off the street after viewing the 76th Street Mansions, I turn the corner and find myself at Hogwart's. While I was taking pictures earlier in the day, I ended up chatting with a cool guy and his dog who were from the neighborhood. I told him I was an architecture student, taking shots of good looking houses, and he said, 'You have to see the Witch's House, a few blocks over.It's great!' Buddy, you couldn't be more right! This is truly a unique home, and a terrific example of Arts and Crafts architecture. Locally known as 'The Witch's House', or 'The Gingerbread House', it's officially known as the Howard E. and Jessie Jones House. Designed by J. Sarsfield Kennedy, architect, and completed in 1917, this is one of the most unique buildings in New York City. From the curving shingled roof, to the rough cut stone,matching stone wall and lush landscaping, this is a winner.

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Everything about this home says 'Dreamer'. Almost nothing about it is standardized. The windows are all  irregular sizes and shapes. The stones are all cut to fit their specific place in the building. The iron gates lead me to imagine that children in neighborhood 

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must be petrified to knock on the door for trick or treating. The wall and gates are cut from the same irregular stones that the home is made from, a hallmark of a real Arts and Crafts style construction. The elegant curves of the roof

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and narrowing chimney all
add to the Hansel and Gretel effect. I was certain that as I shot photos I would be offered candy by an old crone. Although, I'm all skin and bones, so I'd probably have to spend a while eating in a cage before I made any kind of decent meal. This house is worth a trip to Bay Ridge in its' own right. Again, 'I can't believe I'm in New York City'. This is approximately 2  miles from downtown Manhattan.

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Fort Hamilton high school is a nice looking building for a newer NYC Public School. It has impressive sports fields in the back, and a pretty sweet bell tower. As I was lining up these shots, I noticed an older woman and her husband, also lining up the same photos as myself. She approached me and said, 'I was in the first four year graduating class from this high school'. She was still alive and kicking hard. Right on sister.

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Bay Ridge has a wonderful shoreline park along its'  entire length.I often go on about Owl's Head skate park, one of my favorite BMX spots in the city, but there is a lot to be said for a quiet, beautiful green spot to just hang out and read. There is also some nice rusty wrought iron. They don't make these dangerous fences anymore, too bad. There's always some dumb Darwin Award kid getting impaled on them.

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One more piece of gaudy lawn kitsch for your viewing pleasure. I was thinking that Bay Ridge must be the capital of lawn kitsch in New York City. Then I realized that Bay Ridge is one of the only places with front lawns in all five boroughs. Ozone Park may give it a run for its' lawn ornanment money if I remember right. I haven't been over there in a while.

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Facing the water, with have this overgrown Mission style home, shadowed by a hideous hospital building. This home is traeding the thin line between pertfectly overgrown and eyesore. For now it's definetly on the right side of the line.It would also make a great Brooklyn outpost of El Sombrero, although I heard that they don't have the deadly frozen margarita's to go because of trouble with out of town frat boys. Damn. Another amazing NYC tradition ruined by drunken outsiders.

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Bay Ridge is chock o' block full of bike lanes. I'm a proud member of Transportation Alternatives, who do a great job of getting bike lanes all over the place. Even in way out there family Brooklyn.

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This is the chapel of Visitation Academy, completed in 1913. You can't see it in the picture, but there is an enormous block spanning cement wall to protect the Catholic Virgins from bad Catholic boys like me. This Neo-Renaissance pile is a welcome surprise, as it just pops out of nowhere on a residential block.

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Bay Ridge is proud, with good reason of its' bridge. Its' also proud of its' diners, of which there many. Here we have a nice confluence of both. This is a fantastic sign, both the stationary and spinning one. The interior lives up to the signage, being a classic 80's diner remodeling job.

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After my walking tour with White and Willensky, I walked off into the sunset. Not really. I wandered home to my apartment and cooked veggie chick patties and drank Bud pounders.

I was listening to the GZA's absolutely brilliant album Liquid Swords this morning, and I noticed that there is a sort of newscaster's monologue delivered at the beginning of Investigative Reports which describes the Battle of Brooklyn, the bloodiest battle of The American Revolution. I've heard itinerant, almost to the point of inducing nausea in me, historian David McCullough describing the Battle of Brooklyn as nearly ending the war before it even got off the ground. There's apparently quite a bit of American Revolution history here in Fort Hamilton

10 Investigative Reports

I fought my own battle today, in the form of trying to post a video to the web. I won't bore you with the technobabble, but if you've ever attempted this, you know it's a soul eater. I am quite happy with the results which I'll share with all of you tonight.

First up is a video of me, Sexy Jesus, giving a spoken word poetry performance at The Waterbug Hotel (see the post from 10/29) for a little more about that. This video is fairly long for a poetry set, coming in at 26 minutes, but surprisingly it's easy to watch, even on a middling speed connection.  Check it out here: Sexy Jesus Live!
So, on goes the archiving.

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'Show us some Halloween decorations.'

In Bay Ridge Brooklyn Halloween decorations are pretty heavy duty. These don't compare to the WTC center carrying Jesus statue, but they're fun all the same.

This is a box filled with pumpkins at an outdoor nursery.

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This is a fairly elaborate ghost hanging from a tree in the front yard of a row house.

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