3 posts tagged “photography”

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.

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.

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.

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.

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
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.
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.


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.
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.
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.

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.

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.

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.

Some of Broadway's theater's have survived, bud sadly, very few of the gorgeous details on these buildings have made it down through time to us. Most of the theaters are covered top to bottom with billboards and horrid, glowing neon and 60 foot television screens blasting advertisements into the ether and into our brains. Put up in 1926 by Rapp and Rapp, the Paramount is no longer a theater (It's the WWF Restaurant), but retains the neo-gothic detail work over the entrance arch, as well as the inviting original sign. This is a theater on Broadway that looks like it was designed to be on a street called 'The Great White Way'.

Even though I hate his guts for various reasons, Frank Sinatra was a big fan of the Paramount in his younger swinging days. By standing on the corner of 43rd and Broadway, and slowly arcing your head 180 degrees from  left to right, you can take a speed course in advertising technology from the 1920's to the present. On one side we have the demure Paramount, with it's detailed, carved, burnished yet completely functional marquee. Across Broadway, at the opposite and of your field of vision, are several dozen electrically blazing neon monsters that ride 10 stories from street level. I have no love of advertisements at all, yet I;m not an imaginative hippie who expects them all to disappear tomorrow, so as much as I'd like that it isn't going to happen. Ads are a necessary evil (very evil in my mind), so given the choice of the two, I would much rather be forced to look at the somewhat stately and tasteful Paramount marquee than giant blinking tv screens. I have also
seen numerous accidents occur because people are attempting to drive and watch the tv screen ads simultaneously. Now you know why I feel so safe on my bike, as jerkoffs from Connecticut fly down Broadway in their Hummers' chatting on their cell phones, smoking cigarettes, fiddling with the radio, blowing coke, getting blowjobs and watching the tv screens - simultaneously. Oh yeah, and driving too.

This picture (DSC0435) struck me as the stock

image for winter time in Manhattan. Steam rising from the manholes and blanketing the streets as two guys attempt to beat the light and grab a taxi.

Andrea Palladio would be very proud with the facade of the former Lyric Thater. Now part of the Ford Center, architect Victor Koehler put up this mini Neo-Classical suprise in 1903, and it has been delighting theater patrons ever since. Koehler's proportions on the triple arches are exquisite, and detail (look out for deer and snakes) in the carvings is so fine it is hard to appreciate from street level using the naked eye. I'm also not able to ascertain the three gents residing in the alcoves.

If it isn't bad enough that entire Theatre District has fallen victim to plastering advertising on every available surface, it has also fallen victim to doing the same with its' historic intellectual property. The grandly named New Victory Theatre was recently renames the Hilton Center For Performing Arts. This trend is tragic in a way, especially considering all the wonderful Neo-Classic names given to New York Theaters over the last millennium, such as the Apollo Theater (their spelling not mine), The Lyric and The Empire. Now all we get are crummy corporations monikers withe equally as worthless remodeling jobs.  The New Victory was completed in 1899 by Albert Westover, who is well known for being one of the first architects to design movie theaters when movies were brand new, and still called 'moving pictures'. This is one of the highlights of Westover's career, and the New Victory defines the word grand to a 'T' (it even received on of the coveted  and stingily granted larger sized pictures in the final guide written by my boys, Willesnky and White).   Pay special  attemtion to the  glass canopies above the entranceway, which are tastefully light by rows  of bulbs in arches  that seamlessly blend into the detailed stonework beginning at the second floor. Peeking out from above the canopies, observing the lines of tourists
waiting to get inside, are sculpted heads of Hermes and Athena, which fit in well with the original victory motif. The balustrade is separated from below by four smaller goat heads, a symbol of victory as week. Your charming author also happens to love goats, was once butted by a goat the Prospect Park Zoo, and would keep a goat with a very long beard as a pet if it were allowed to do so in Brooklyn. Oscar Hammerstein said of the New Victory, "The perfect parlor theater...a drawing room of the drama dedicated to all that is best in dramatic and lyric art." It's hard to get a better endorsement of your good taste than Oscar Hammerstein, eh?

Legions of designers burn through millions of man hours attempting to capture the look of signs like this, to varying degrees of success. Quite a few are really impressive actually, but the truth being, there is just no substitute for time. Entropy at work is something that I have a specific interest in, and something I have written about in the past quite a bit. This sign is perfection. It's dead simple - 'Garage' - it tells you what the place is, and since it is sticking out above the entrance, it serves a second function by telling you where the place is, even from a block or two away. This sign has feeling. It makes a person feel that Joseph Mitchell might just walk out from under it with a bottle of Old Smuggler. What advertising signs do that now? When looking at some  of the modern sign in Times Square, instead of seeing Joseph Mitchell, I expect to see a 12 year old Japanese girl having a seizure in a tub of Palmolive dish soap and spoiled eggs. Not good.

Signs are no longer designed to be beautiful, functional or useful. They are only designed to trick you into buying something you don
't really need through gimmicks like flashing lights and corny video game characters with 'rebellious attitudes'. Our generation is so deprived of good signs, we don't even get to have simple historic brass markers that let us know that we're in Times Square, which is called Times Square because because it is where the New York Times' Offices were located. This is the same reason that Herald Square is known as Herald Square, because in the past, the offices of the New York Herald were located there. I learned those two facts while riding an uptown 'R' train several years ago. The motorman was quite talkative, and gave a little speech at each stop, where he explained to all the passengers how Herald and Times Squares received there names. He was the only motorman I've ever heard do that in all my years riding the subway, and what's more, he actually spoke in such a way I could clearly understand what he was saying. That's the real miracle here.
This nicely carved urn, on an otherwise non-descript office building, reminded me of the troubled Euphronius Krater at the Met. Inspired by the urn, John Keats poem, 'Ode on a Grecian Urn' is a fine example of how art of one stripe, a drinking cup, inspires art of another stripe, a poem. This decorative brick is a further example, whereas a poem or an urn, inspires an architect to bring a little bit of Keat's into his building, and into everyone's day that walks past.

When I was a teenager Times Square was SCARY. People often reminisce wistfully for the 'Deuce of the past. Now I'm no fan of the gross, sterile,commerce and advertising driven 42nd Street that is Mayor Giuliani's legacy the city. On the other hand, I can now make my trips to the Playpen without dodging bullets, aggressive syringe wielding beggars and cops who shake down scared 

white teenagers trying to go to their first peepshow. Times Square used to be place after place like the Playpen, until Giuliani passed ordinances making it very difficult for any peep show, strip club or sex toy shop to stay in business. The Playpen is one the remaining few, and even they've toned down their facade quite a bit. Formerly emblazoned with a neon woman in a lewd position, now we have a neon World Trade Center. Which is more bizarre? In order to get a feel for what the old Times Square looked like, just imagine the facade of the  Playpen (the lighting, the color scheme, the marquis) into the hundreds, lining every block. Add in an army of female hookers, several dozen strung out rent boys, screeching trannies, some real live pimps in full regalia, a few German tourists being mugged and you've got the basic idea. That's all gone now, but by some act of g-d, the Playpen defies all logic and remains.

The Playpen is  housed in a unique building for it's location. Although, if buildings in Manhattan reflected their surrounding areas and general purpose, the Playpen would actually be a cardboard Maytag box, resting in a pool of vomit on a curb down the Bowery. Instead we have an ornate pink stucco building that reminds me of the Alamo, both physically, and spiritually. The Playpen is where porn is taking its' last stand on the 'Deuce.
The Music Box Theater is somewhat low key for a Broadway theatre.  Unrestrained  gaude and  lights a plenty are the usual order of the day, so this Federal Revival facade is a nice change of pace from its' neighbors. I especially like the row of dormers jutting out from the roof. The Music Box was designed by Crane and Kiehler and completed in Broadway's first heyday in 1920.

Yes, I do continually rag on advertisements here on Buildings, Bikes and Books. I will make an exception for Mr. Peanut, mainly for the reason that he is wearing a monocle. It's sad that monocle's have gone out of style. It is also odd that monocle's immediately conjure up images of creepy Nazi overlords and stodgy art critics, otherwise I am certain that monocles would have made a comeback by now. The only thing better than Mr. Peanut wearing a monocle, would be Mr. Peanut wearing TWO monocles. That would be hip.

Maybe the North Pole is technically the center of the Christmas world, but the Tree at Rockefeller Center is much more accessible and sees many more visitors. For generations of New Yorker's, the Tree symbolizes Christmas in New York. Visiting the tree on a Sunday afternoon is an enormous mistake. It makes a European soccer match seem like a picnic, and is the  fastest way to lose every drop of Christmas good cheer that may be residing in your body. The crowd are staggering. People push and shove you out of the way, so their bratty little kids can get a better look at the tree. People hit you in the face with telephoto lenses. Overflowing Macy's bags are used as bludgeons and clubs. Parents scream at the poor suckers working the ice skating rink when they hear there is no chance that their family, who did make reservations months in advance, will not be skating that afternoon. Melees break out over Santa's lap. In short, there is nothing less in the true spirit of of Christmas than heading out to see the Rockefeller center tree.  A few years ago, a friend who has just moved to the city begged me to take her to see the tree. Begged. I agreed on one condition, that we would go after 10pm on a week night, when all the horrid children were in bed, and their parents  were  far , far away in the suburbs of New Jersey.  We arrived at the tree shortly after ten and amazingly, there wasn't a person in sight. It was perfect, and for the first time in my life, I was actually able to see the tree in full view, and still be in a good mood. It actually did look beautiful in quiet, and was somewhat majestic when able to be seen without jostling. I started to actually feel the overwhelming spirit of Christmas overtake me. Then, they shut the lights off.

I was hoping that this wooden soldier would come to life, and begin attacking the mobs of revelers with his drumsticks, beating them away from the tree. This Sunday also happened to be the day a Tuba Convention was scheduled. I'm not kidding. Just to add to the chaos, there were several hundred people blaring on tubas, and a man singing who had the worst voice I have ever heard perform in public. This combination hurt not just the ears, but the soul as well. Rockefeller Center at Christmas  is scarier than any horror movie made in the last 10 years.

My advice to all of you, is to just avoid Rockefeller Center anytime near Christmas. The Plaza is a decent enough public space the rest of the year, but once a year it is transformed into a horror show of monstrous proportions. Tree or no tree, tubas or no tubas, screaming kids or no screaming kids - it just isn't worth the years it will take off your life to go for a visit. My suggestions, and quite possibly the absolute antithesis of Rockefeller Center is the tree at the Met. The Met's Christmas Tree, decorated with antique ornaments, and placed in the stately quiet of the Medieval exhibits, is the most wonderful physical representation of Christmas you will see anywhere. It's quiet, and a little bit dark. The tree has no garish modern colors, as all the ornaments are at least 100 years old. It is surrounded by a nativity at the base which is powerful, and religious,not quaint and campy like most others seen everywhere else. The Met is balm to heal yourself after being wounded in Midtown.

One thing you can always count on in New York City is diversity. Here's a woman wearing a garbage and nothing else. The light from this photo comes from the windows of a store where they sell shoes that run $2,000 (USD) a pair. She is about to be arrested by the police, and is surrounded by people dropping $6 (USD) a cup for hot chocolates. Maybe someone should show her the true meaning of the holiday and help her out?

On the bike front...Pedicabs, or pedal taxis have been in the news quite a bit lately. We've heard cabbies complain about them, saying they are stealing there business. Drivers in the city are complaining that they are unsafe and take up too much room (less room than your SUV, but hey, who measuring right?). Cycling and environmental advocates say they are a great solution to traffic and exhaust problems. Who knows. If you've been reading BBB for a while, you'll have seen me mention these way before the 'real' news guys caught on. I used to work as a bike mechanic at one of the only shops in the city that would touch one of these, so I've met and spoken with the drivers for quite a while and I definitely side with them. I'm also someone who rides a bike in New York City a few thousand  miles a year, so I'll always side with the cyclist. Now this picture is something a bit different on the pedicab front. The Eight Person Bike!

My obsession with the 8 Person Bike began about 5 years ago, when I moved to Midwood Brooklyn and started hanging around Coney Island a lot, both winter and summer. I spent a lot of time on the  boardwalk just watching the ocean, sketching and writing.  I began to notice that every now again, a guy in his early 30's, with a few senior citizens would come whipping down the boardwalk on an 8 person bicycle, similar to the one pictured above. Being a total bike junkie, I became very curious about this apparatus. As it passed by one day, there was a cardboard sign taped to the front of the contraption which read, 'Free Bicycle Rides: Inquire Within'. I jumped out from my usual table at Ruby's on the boardwalk and flagged the bike down. I asked about a free ride, and the guy told me to jump on. It was the younger guy I always saw piloting the bike, what turned out be his 79 year old mother, and another senior citizen couple and myself, riding down the boardwalk. I soon learned that The Driver had this bike specially made in Sweden, because  his mother loved to cycle up and down the boardwalk,but had become a little weak in her old age, and was nervous about losing her balance and riding alone. Her son purchased this crazy bike so his mother could still enjoy riding,and they could spend time together, while some other folks from her old age home could also get some fresh ocean air. This honestly blew my mind. The bike was an amazing piece of engineering. The 'Pilot' would steer, and everyone had the option to pedal. Considering the weight of this machine, it was surprisingly easy to get going at a pretty good clip. The best feature, in my eyes, was that everyone on the bike sits in a circle, so it lends itself to conversation. I had a really good time kibitzing away with everyone on board, hearing stories about Old Coney Island before I was born, and getting snippets of daily gossip about people I didn't know. This also gave me tremendous respect for the son who got this bike imported from Sweden, just him and his Mom could spend time together. That's real respect for your Mother, and it greatly impressed me. Over that winter and spring, I took a few other enjoyable rolls down the Coney Island Boardwalk. As the summer came, I told more and more of my friends about this Rube Goldberg bike, but sadly it never appeared. I wondered why the old folks rolled all winter long, but as soon as the weather turned nice, they disappeared. With older folks being involved, I sadly thought the worst. I got my answer a few weeks into summer, with a small article in one of the local South Brooklyn papers. There was an article that explained that the 8 person bike had been stolen from the parking lot of a supermarket where the owner let them chain it up. Crazy, who could possibly steal something so large, unique and obvious as an 8 person bicycle? It turns out, crackheads. The article explained that the bike was reported stolen to the Coney Island Precinct a few weeks ago. One night, in the pouring rain, two officers on patrol noticed an 8 person bicycle cruising the back streets of Coney Island with 5 passengers singing, yelling and whooping it up. What drew the officers attention more than even an 8 person bike taking a cruise at 2am, was that one of the passengers appeared to smoking crack as he pedaled down the road! The cops gave chase, and after a block of pedaling, the occupants got off, scattered and ran. The police managed to catch one of them, who told the cops they had found the bike just sitting in the middle of Surf Avenue and decided to go for a ride. The man was arrested and the bike was recovered and returned. Pretty amazing story from every angle.
From Wild Neon signs, to monocles, Neo-Classical facades and crackheads riding 8 person bicycles, such ends another installment of Bikes, Books and Buildings. Thanks for reading about my adventures as I wander around New York City with my trusty Nikon documenting architecture, bike culture and interesting goings on. Thanks for wasting some time with me.

I'm somewhat a creature of habit. There are certain wandering paths through the city that I walk again and again, even though they may not nearly be the most direct line from point A to point B. Some of these planned wanders I've been strolling since I was 15 years old, and hanging around Manhattan seeing shows at clubs that are no longer there (Sweatlands anybody?). One of my all time favorite walks is from the Financial District, from about Whitehall Street up to Union Square. I worked in the Financial District for a long, long time and it is still my favorite part of Manhattan. There are fantastic architectural gems hidden down there. It's the oldest settled part of Manhattan. It might be filled with my arch-enemies during the day, but after 5 o'clock it's an honest-to-g-d ghost town. It's so empty it's creepy. Since I worked down at Wall Street, but I liked to drink and visit my friends around Union Square, I've made this trek hundreds of times. On the way their are quite a few very small, but no less aesthetically grand architectural details that I've noticed over the years. These are things you would probably never notice unless you've beat the streets quite a bit, but some are so outstanding I would be greedy not to share them.
This might totally be conjecture, but in the past,advertisements had to serve some useful purpose to get people to look at them. Thus, clocks, bearing the name of a company, such as this one for the now defunct then resurrected New York Sun newspaper. According to my ever present buddies Willensky and White, the Sun used to be published here a long time ago. The paper has returned to life, just not here. You can fake the amazing verdigris patina on the copper clock jutting out from the second story of  a building on Broadway, just North of City Hall Park. There are quite a few  'ad-clocks' scattered around the city, but this one is my favorite.
I draw a very thick black line (a Magnum in fact), between good graffiti and bad graffiti. Bad graffiti makes any neighborhood look like a slum. Good graffiti is art, no questions. The rarest graffiti of all, is clever graffiti. Clever graffiti is rare, because most folks compelled to write on walls are just not the sharpest knife in the drawer. There are exceptions, like whoever wrote these beauties across from the Sun Clock. Reading these put a huge smile on my face. These graffitos (that's actually the plural of graffiti the noun, believe it or not) are little bits of urban poetry. Cheers to writer who put these up.

Entropy is one of my pet interests. I enjoy watching things disintegrate, and my more scientific minded friends assure me that everyone and everything is falling to pieces at a molecular level as we speak.
Rust is one of the more obvious and beautiful signs that entropy and decay are always at work - they don't get a day off. This building is one of the many Cast Iron Front buildings scattered around Manhattan. Most are in the SoHo Historic District, but you can find a few others around the city,like this rusting beauty. This construction method was a cheap, fireproof way of making the facades of buildings beautiful. The architects cast columns and beautiful details into the iron, and it gives them a very Palladian look. I enjoy them more when they're like this chap, rusty, than its' constantly over painted sisters up North in SoHo.

The rust is especially apparent at the base of the columns, because that area is difficult to paint, and gravity also effects the way rust grows. In the historic district, strict zoning laws and generally shi-shi-ness keep the cast iron clean and rust free, so it's a rare treat to find one that looks like this. As you can see, the detail work is astounding. The leaves, stems, flowers and bases are artfully wrought. To be an architectural curmudgeon, these are technically colonettes, not columns because they are strictly decorative, not lad bearing.
These beautiful caryatids are resting on the seconds story of an old warehouse building on Broadway. Did you know caryatids are always female? That's something I just learned too. Caryatids are somewhat in short supply in NYC, but these are an amazing example left over from the time when people thought buildings in New York should be beautiful, not just expensive. I'll be on the lookout for more caryatids,so let me know if you see any in your  neighborhood. For now, I have a huge schoolboy crush on these ladies.

Hank Williams has a fantastic, somewhat depressing, song called Kalija the Wooden Indian, which this fellow reminds me of. I'm no expert in cigar store Indians (Native Americans?), but this  one looks really old and original. Granted, this is probably on the same  plane of sensitivity as Lawn Jockeys (more on them later), but regardless  of its' inherent racism, it is a beautiful piece of Americana sculpture. From what I understand, these are pretty rare and collectible. This one is outside of a gift shop on Broadway which has an amazing collection of Snoopy dolls and trinkets that my wife and I have admired on quite a few occasions. He's also for sale, so if you have money to burn and want something to scare away burglars, you might want to peep him out. You wouldn't

want to meet him in a dark alley.

I've been rock climbing since 1999, and to be honest Manhattan isn't best place in the world to be a climber. Sure, we have Rat Rock and Cat Rock in Central Park, which are great for bouldering, and The Gunks are only a 90 minute bus ride away, but we are short on natural rock. My main climbing partner, who I'll just identify as Mr. IT was a somewhat insane guy. He was incredibly smart, and ran the IT Security division of a huge brokerage house  downtown. Once I visited him at his apartment, and he showed me a bank of hard drives that contained over a 1,000,000 MP3's he had cleaned out and collected  from the hard drives of everyone at the enormous company he worked for. He of course kept them,and has an outstanding computer jukebox with every song you could ever imagine. Mr. IT and I climbed a lot, at least 2 or 3 times a week, so at times we definetly got bored  with what Central Park had to offer. He called me one afternoon, and said he has a new outstanding climbing spot we had to check out, and asked me to meet him at Union Square at 9 that night, with my climbing gear. I assumed he had found a new  gym or some other indoor spot to check out, which was odd, because we both hate climbing indoors and only do so when we the weather was horrific and we were dying for a fix. We met up and Union Square, headed a few blocks South,and around the block.
We ended up at Grace Church. Mr. IT proceeded to outline a route up the side of the

Church building, around an arch and up to the top. Why we did this clearly suicidal, ropeless climb, in more or less full view of anyone who felt like looking up, I'm not sure. I was younger, and at that point in my life, single and absolutely out of control. The two of us were also incredibly strong from climbing nearly everyday, so the physical part of the climb wasn't too hard. The fact that one slip up would  probably mean certain death didn't seem to phase us. We were definetly inspired by The Night Climber's of Cambridge, a book written in the 1890's by students who climbed church steeples and other buildings for kicks. We made it up and down fairly quickly, and besides kudos from our other climbing buddies, I also became enamored with how beautiful Grace Church really is. When Grace was put up in 1843 by James Renwick Jr. (who also designed the  Smithsonian in D.C. and St. Patrick's in Manhattan), it was intended to be the 'Rich Man's Church' downtown, and g-d does it show. The detailing around the window bays, and in the stonework is outstanding. Even though the current steeple is a later 1900 addition, it meshes perfectly and stabs the sky in such a way it really does make you feel g-d, or  goddess, or whoever you like is hanging about.

The Church, and its' attendant rectory are my favorite religious building in the City, which says a lot, considering the vast amount of choices. This  Gothic Revival masterpiece is amazingly well kept, the grass is always inhumanly green and it's very easy to gain access for tours. I don't reccomend climbing up the side, but if you do, we left a little 'present' for any  other souls adventurous enough to mimic our adventure. If you let me know what it is, I'll take you out for a beer.


It's a pretty huge intellectual jump from the Gothic Revival Grace Church to this Bauhaus inspired modern building. I haven't been able to track down any specific information on this place, but I think it's quite outstanding for a modern building. The clock at the top floor is a unique touch, and much better than that monstrous, hideous, 'clock' around the corner at the Virgin Megastore. The stainless steel facade at the ground floor makes it nice to pass by at street level, and I'm very impressed by the staggered pattern of the windows. This is quite a unique building. I'm attempting to track down the architect, and I'll let you know when I do. Hyper modern architecture can end up in the gutter so fast, but here we such a fine example of how it can be beautiful, and stand out on the block without sullying its' connected neighbors. Cheers to the mystery architect on this one.

After my walk I started thinking about how cool public clocks are. Honestly, I never, ever wear a watch, I don't even own one. So having copious amounts of public clocks, especially beautiful ones like this one, and the Sun clock I mentioned earlier in this post are a nice way to add beauty in a utilitarian way to any city scape. Of course, the converse to this is the previously mentioned three story  'Metronome' clock/sculpture. This 'clock' is hideous and basically impossible to use. I have heard conflicting things, that it actually isn't a clock, that the digital display just flicks up random numbers. Who knows? Either way,it shoots out smoke, is abhorrently ugly, and useless for telling time.I say, 'More Pretty Public Clocks!'. Let's bring them back into the cities consciousness.
Pete's Tavern appears in some O. Henry stories, and was supposedly his hangout when he was in Manhattan. While I love the way the building looks, and the interior is even better, it is an overpriced tourist trap, with only so-so Italian food. It's a great looking building, aside from the tacky moniker 'The Tavern O. Henry Made Famous' on the awning. However, since it was built in the 1840's, and it's still here, it is a real 'Old Bar', which are in short supply. Accoridng to Willensky and Whitem, the story that O. Henry wrote Gift of the Magi here is pure fantasy. They just don't build gorgeous bars like this anymore. I have to add though,

The Old Town Bar is an even more gorgeous old bar than Pete's. In fact the urinals at the Old Town must weight  half a ton each, and are bigger than my old SoHo apartment. I highly recommend a drink and relieving yourself there. I do quite often.
One of my favorite fantasies involves the idea that I'll someday own my home in New York. Fat Chance. With the NYC real estate market starting at about half a million bucks, it just won't happen. If I were to win the lottery though, this  is what I would  buy. I've been in love with this funny little building since I was 19.

There is nothing else like it anywhere else in any of the boroughs. Manhattan is jammed, and space is at an insane premium, so since the Dutch got here, we build UP. That's why I am so amazed that single story building still exists in Manhattan. This is my favorite building in NYC, bar none. I often fantasize about living here, and I've stared at this place for hours.
I'm not certain, but I feel that this must have been a carriage house for a larger building that is no longer in existence. The details are outstanding. The funny, ziggurat like roof reminds me very much of the canal
houses in Amsterdams' Red Light district. The wrought
iron double hearts, and the circular hole between them show that someone
put quite a bit of love and care into the design of this little palace. The wooden detailing below the emphasizes the small physical size, but grand stature that dwarfs its' neighbors. The offset triple window, and planter box that is always filled with something pretty make this totally unique, and pleasure at street level. The twin lamps guarding the red door, and ironwork above the door make my heart melt.
You can even see the capstone above the door beneath the iron work. I'm not sure what to call this building, but the Dutch influence is heavy throughout. It really does bring me back to all the good times I've had wandering Centruum stones out of my mind. I've never seen anyone coming in or out of this place, but I am hugely curious at to who is lucky enough to live here. Part of me hopes it may be The Witch of the Ladies Mile, or possibly a mad professor. If a miracle 

occurs someday, and my checking account ever has more than a thousand dollars, I plan to walk up to the front door, knock and cajole the owners into selling to me. There is no other place I would rather live than this. There is no other building in New York like this. Maybe I can buy a plot of land somewhere in Brooklyn on the cheap, and erect myself a copy. Sure, it wouldn't be the same, because I think what makes this building do special is how it is a midget compared to its' giant neighbors. It is also special because who ever owns it, obviously cares much more for aesthetics than money. Most people would have knocked this little gem down, and built a monstrosity straight up, with many more floors - like every other building in the city. Funny little house - I think I love you.
On the left is another Dutch style 'canal house', that I also enjoy walking past. It manages to stately without being stuffy, which is a hard line to tread. The offset, leaded windows are also a treat. This section of Manhattan,officially The Ladies Mile Historic District, has at least a few gorgeous structures on every block. Sadly, it's in danger from over zealous development. How could anyone be greedy enough to destroy these gorgeous building to put up ugly condos for he sake of a few blocks? It seems people are hellbent on developing every part of the city until it's as ugly and homogeneous as the Upper East Side. Beat that shit back uptown!
Take notice of the fine patterned brick work, and inset stone sculpture at the
apex of the house. It looks like it's some type of family crest, or more likely the symbol of a club that

no longer exists. The light colored stone that outlines the roof really gives this dwelling a sharp silhouette, and is just another fine detail worth noticing.

It's too bad someone decided to run an ugly aluminum gutter right down the side of these attractive patterned windows. Of course, people can add terrible details as well as beautiful ones. Someone hide that gutter, please.

When I mentioned the Cigar Store Indian earlier, I compared it's vague racism to that of

lawn jockeys. I believe nearly every lawn jockey today, thankfully, is now painted white.To me, lawn jockeys are just bizzare. I don't really get what they are, and I find them very ugly. The pair of lawn jockeys in front of this building are painted quite frequently. The face is always white, but I have noticed over the years that their clothing changes color once or twice a year.Lawn jockeys are pretty uncommon in Manhattan, but they are out there as a curiosity if you care to search for them.
Most row houses are nearly identical, design wise. This one is a bit different at the roof. We have a cool stepped gable, with a very large quadruple windowed dormer.I enjoy buildings that stray from the norm, especially when done with taste.
This building on the right is chock full o' details
that you don't see everyday. Over the door is a brick
arch that has a tile mosaic of animals, and a cool looking lantern. There is n arch shaped piece of stone sculpture hanging on the wall at the left, and some stone lions guarding the wall in front of the building.I often mention Hundertwasser in my writings. He's one of my favorite architects, and for many more reasons that the buildings he designed. He had quite a few unique ideas that I love. One of these ideas is his 'Window Rule'. Basically, the 'Window Rule' is the idea that people living in a building have the right, and should be encouraged too, decorate the area outside their apartment windows, as far as they can reach with their arms. This encourages people to make their homes unique. This building here, as well as some of the other details I've pointed out in this post, remind me of that idea. I'm glad people still want to express their uniqueness by decorating where they live with fantastic details.Everyone in NYC should take pride in where they live, and show they live there by adding details and decorations.
Here's two more closeups of this fine detailing for you to enjoy.

As usual, my walk ended up at my friends apartment  of 19th street for a visit, discussing the days' newspaper and grabbing a drink with my buddy. Over the years I have been blown away by the view of from his apartment windows, of which there are 5 in the living room alone. I'm jealous. My friend ignores his view, but I feel it is my duty to exploit for everyone else enjoyment, including mine. The Empire State Building is still an outstanding skyscraper. The prototypical one if you will. Even though it costs a bundle, the creepy Helmsley's still light it up every night, end even change the light colors depending on the various holidays and seasons of the year.Being close to X-mas, it is of course red and green at
this time of year.

It's still hard to beat the feeling of insignificance a skyscraper can bring upon you. I imagine it's how ancient Romans felt inside the Pantheon. Spooked by the gods.
I really enjoy discovering the little tiny details in New York's architecture. Finding the unknown bits is rewarding for me, and I like spreading the knowledge.
Until next time...Et In Arcadia Ego. -Michael