Friday, December 31, 2010
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
A few scenes from my commute
As quickly as it came, the snow is almost gone. I'm kind of glad it's melting so quickly because there's nothing worse than slogging through black sludge. Anyway, it seems forever since I took these pics, but these are from this morning and yesterday.
Fifth Street, near the 9th Precinct:
Just off Great Jones:
An abandoned cab still stuck on Sullivan:
And, True Grit.
Fifth Street, near the 9th Precinct:
Just off Great Jones:
An abandoned cab still stuck on Sullivan:
And, True Grit.
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
So, THAT happened...
I really didn't take the blizzard forecast seriously as it seems the weather people always over-dramatize a flake of snow. But, I guess they were right this time! Even as the snow started to fall Sunday afternoon, I went outside to take pictures, thinking I had plenty of time and it would be a pleasant afternoon walk. Not so...after only walking four blocks down 2nd Avenue, I quickly realized this was not going to be the usual friendly snowfall, as the wind was already driving crystal ice shards into my eyes. So, I hunkered down for the night with a stockpile of canned soup and DVDs.
At 10pm, this was the view from the front door:
Flickr user Irene Rx captured the thunder and lightning that accompanied the blizzard in this cool video.
And, the aftermath on 1st Avenue:
Doesn't look like those bike or bus lanes will be seen again until April.
Meanwhile, on Avenue A...
What a nice day to walk down the middle of the street, the only traffic being flocks of pigeons and the occasional tow truck and plow trying to dig out the six or so stranded buses...
Videos:
Freeing a bus on Avenue A & 7th Street: Part 1
Freeing a bus on Avenue A & 7th Street: Part 2
Freeing a bus on Avenue A & 3rd Street
See more snow pics here.
Happy shoveling!
UPDATE: see footage from Hurricane Irene, which struck on August 27-28, 2011, here.
At 10pm, this was the view from the front door:
Flickr user Irene Rx captured the thunder and lightning that accompanied the blizzard in this cool video.
And, the aftermath on 1st Avenue:
Doesn't look like those bike or bus lanes will be seen again until April.
Meanwhile, on Avenue A...
What a nice day to walk down the middle of the street, the only traffic being flocks of pigeons and the occasional tow truck and plow trying to dig out the six or so stranded buses...
Videos:
Freeing a bus on Avenue A & 7th Street: Part 1
Freeing a bus on Avenue A & 7th Street: Part 2
Freeing a bus on Avenue A & 3rd Street
See more snow pics here.
Happy shoveling!
UPDATE: see footage from Hurricane Irene, which struck on August 27-28, 2011, here.
Thursday, December 23, 2010
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
'Tis the Season
Season's greetings from Avenue A...
From Ted Baker...
From Mars bar...
From Webster Hall...
From the Gog family...
And, let's not forget the Gimp...
From Ted Baker...
From Mars bar...
From Webster Hall...
From the Gog family...
And, let's not forget the Gimp...
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
The Destruction of Lower Manhattan
With so many landmark businesses and buildings disappearing lately, I've been wondering how NYers felt at other times entire neighborhoods have been wiped out.
One of my favorite books is photographer Danny Lyon's The Destruction of Lower Manhattan. In 1966-7, 60 acres of buildings along Beekman street were demolished, river to river, to make way for the World Trade Center, a ramp for the Brooklyn Bridge, and Pace University. An entire chunk of the city was wiped out in one fell swoop and, fortunately for future generations, Lyon was there to document it. He moved into a loft at Beekman and William Streets and, with not much else to do, went exploring the comdemned area, camera in hand.
Photo credit: Danny Lyon
In the book's introduction, Lyon says,
The desolation captured by Lyon is what continues to haunt me. If you walk down Beekman Street and the surrounding area today, you'll be in the company of a few thousand people at every turn. Lyon's photos show how empty the area was at the time. He even states in his Epilogue that he moved to that particular part of the city "to get away from people." One photo that sticks in my mind is of the intersection of Beekman and Water Streets where a group of women stand on the corner, looking absolutely bewildered. The Beekman Hostpital had been torn down just days before, leaving no trace.
I used to live on W. 38th Street less than ten years ago. When I returned to the area recently, I found it unrecognizable: the entire block of buildings facing my apartment has disappeared, all the businesses I knew are gone, even my south-facing windows have been bricked up by a new luxury condo tower. I am seeing similar changes happening in the East Village and, with the imminent demise of the buildings at 2nd Avenue and 1st Street, that part of the neighborhood will be something entirely different than it was five years ago.
The Beekman Street destruction was accomplished in one swift motion. It's taking a few years for the East Village (and other parts of the city) to completely change, but it's still happening at a pace that frightens me. When I first discovered Lyon's book, I asked everyone I knew who lived in NYC in the late 1960s what they remembered of the event, but none of them remembered anything. Thirty years from now, will anyone remember the East Village that I know?
This site has a few photos and further description of The Destruction of Lower Manhattan.
Here is also an interesting interview with Danny Lyon in the New York Times.
Related post: Is there life after Mars?
Related post: Friday afternoon in Mars Bar
One of my favorite books is photographer Danny Lyon's The Destruction of Lower Manhattan. In 1966-7, 60 acres of buildings along Beekman street were demolished, river to river, to make way for the World Trade Center, a ramp for the Brooklyn Bridge, and Pace University. An entire chunk of the city was wiped out in one fell swoop and, fortunately for future generations, Lyon was there to document it. He moved into a loft at Beekman and William Streets and, with not much else to do, went exploring the comdemned area, camera in hand.
In the book's introduction, Lyon says,
I came to see the buildings as fossils of a time past. These buildings were used during the Civil War. The men were all dead, but the buildings were still here, left behind as the city grew around them. The passing of buildings was for me a great event. It didn't matter so much whether they were of architectural importance. What mattered to me was that they were about to be destroyed. Whole blocks would disappear. An entire neighborhood. Its few last loft occupying tenants were being evicted, and no place like it would ever be built again. The streets involved were among the oldest in New York and when sections of some were closed by the barriers of the demolition men, it meant they would never be opened again.As I am very sentimental about my neighborhood and the city in general, it struck me as strange how Lyon and, seemingly no one else, cared very much for the architecture being destroyed. I think this detachment actually gave him a better photograpic eye - an objective point of view resulting in a collection of images that do not favor sympathy for the past or a desire to blaze into the future. He remains steadfast in the present - that precise moment of death, when the line between being and not being is finest.
The desolation captured by Lyon is what continues to haunt me. If you walk down Beekman Street and the surrounding area today, you'll be in the company of a few thousand people at every turn. Lyon's photos show how empty the area was at the time. He even states in his Epilogue that he moved to that particular part of the city "to get away from people." One photo that sticks in my mind is of the intersection of Beekman and Water Streets where a group of women stand on the corner, looking absolutely bewildered. The Beekman Hostpital had been torn down just days before, leaving no trace.
I used to live on W. 38th Street less than ten years ago. When I returned to the area recently, I found it unrecognizable: the entire block of buildings facing my apartment has disappeared, all the businesses I knew are gone, even my south-facing windows have been bricked up by a new luxury condo tower. I am seeing similar changes happening in the East Village and, with the imminent demise of the buildings at 2nd Avenue and 1st Street, that part of the neighborhood will be something entirely different than it was five years ago.
The Beekman Street destruction was accomplished in one swift motion. It's taking a few years for the East Village (and other parts of the city) to completely change, but it's still happening at a pace that frightens me. When I first discovered Lyon's book, I asked everyone I knew who lived in NYC in the late 1960s what they remembered of the event, but none of them remembered anything. Thirty years from now, will anyone remember the East Village that I know?
This site has a few photos and further description of The Destruction of Lower Manhattan.
Here is also an interesting interview with Danny Lyon in the New York Times.
Related post: Is there life after Mars?
Related post: Friday afternoon in Mars Bar
Saturday, December 11, 2010
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)