July 2008

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New York City Waterfalls

Last week, Bryan wrote that he found Oliafur Eliasson’s waterfalls “completely underwhelming.” I’ve been thinking about that. Certainly they do not have the dramatic impact of Christo and Jeanne-Claude’s 2005 project “The Gates,” which swathed a wintry Central Park in orange fabric and thereby transformed its landscape. And I think that’s the point: it’s a big public art project that aims to be low key. Eliasson’s project asks us to do a double-take: the waterfalls draw attention to parts of the cityscape that we rarely look at, that we tend to take for granted.

My wife and I took our children out on one of the Circle Line’s half-hour tours of the waterfalls, which leaves from the South Street Seaport. The kids enjoyed the outing, but I think that getting on a boat with the deliberate object of seeing the waterfalls may not be the best way to experience them. It may be better to take the longer Circle Line harbor tour or even the full trip around the island, because then the waterfalls become just one of the sights to see rather than the main attraction. (If you do take the half-hour boat, get there early so that you’re at
the head of the line: the boat they use is smaller than the typical
Circle Line boat and has limited outdoor space.)

I was rollerblading last Sunday by the Hudson River and paused at the Battery. Looking across the water, I saw the waterfall that Eliasson had erected on Governor’s Island, and it made me pause and look — and to scrutinize the island in a way that I never had before.

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Governor’s Island Waterfall and Staten Island Ferry

On Tuesday, my wife and I biked over to Brooklyn, taking the Manhattan Bridge first and returning on the Brooklyn. During the trip, we managed to see the waterfalls from above and from afar, and they became parts of the cityscape, even as they drew attention to areas that we would normally glance over.

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The Manhattan Waterfall from beneath the FDR.

manhattan_waterfall_from _bridge.jpgThe Manhattan Waterfall from from the Manhattan Bridge.

And the waterfall at the base of the Brooklyn Bridge acts as a kind of footnote to the bridge (literally), drawing attention to the way that
the bridge rises out of the water without detracting from the drama
inherent in the bridge itself.

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The Brooklyn Bridge Waterfall

The Gates project was an event.
In Oliafur Eliasson’s Waterfalls project, it’s the city that remains
the main event. The Waterfalls are an homage to the interplay of built
space and water that is a crucial part of the city’s character.


corlears04.jpgI’ve found that people often forget that Moby-Dick begins in Manhattan, rather than in New Bedford or Nantucket. Here are the second and third paragraphs from the “Loomings” chapter in which Ishmael, the novel’s narrator, introduces himself:

There now is your insular city of the Manhattoes, belted round by wharves as Indian isles by coral reefs — commerce surrounds it with her surf. Right and left, the streets take you waterward. Its extreme down-town is the battery, where that noble mole is washed by waves, and cooled by breezes, which a few hours previous were out of sight of land. Look at the crowds of water-gazers there.

Circumambulate the city of a dreamy Sabbath afternoon. Go from Corlears Hook to Coenties Slip, and from thence, by Whitehall northward. What do you see? — Posted like silent sentinels all around the town, stand thousands upon thousands of mortal men fixed in ocean reveries. Some leaning against the spiles; some seated upon the pier-heads; some looking over the bulwarks of ships from China; some high aloft in the rigging, as if striving to get a still better seaward peep. But these are all landsmen; of week days pent up in lath and plaster — tied to counters, nailed to benches, clinched to desks. How then is this? Are the green fields gone? What do they here?

Where are “Corlears Hook” and “Coenties Slip”? They’re downtown by the East River: Corlears Hook is near the Williamsburg Bridge; Coenties Slip is down past South Street Seaport near the Brooklyn-Battery Tunnel. [Google Maps: Corlears Hook and Coenties Slip.] Both spots are now marked by parks.

Corlears Hook is named after a Dutch family that owned the land in the seventeenth century. The area became home to shipbuilders at the end of the eighteenth century (see John H. Morrison’s History of New York Ship Yards [1909]). Later in the century it became a notoriously bad neighborhood. It was the base of operations for a group of thieves and river pirates called the “Hook Gang.” An article pubished in the New York Times on July 3, 1870 began:

Corlear’s Hook is the Five Points of the thirteenth Ward. In days gone by many daring deeds of villany have been consummated in its malarious slums, and, although it is not now a place where unprotected ladies walk at night assured of safety, the efforts that have been made to reclaim the vicious and depraved have produced a gratifying reformation in the neighborhood.

You can read an account of the area in the early part of the century and a lament for the loss of the halycon days before the Irish immigration in Corlears Hook in 1820, The Wagnerian Cult, and Our Manners (1904) by Rush Hawkins, which begins:

IN the good old days before the unscrupulous grasping foreigners had taken possession of the trades and the retail business of New York, and the Irish had contracted with themselves and their Church for its mis-government and the handing it over, tongue-tied, type-muffled, and bound hand and foot, to the powers of Popery, for jobbery and robbery, it was a pleasant place for human abode. It was Christian without being puritanic; its inhabitants were active in politics without being corrupt, and the laws for the protection of life and property were as honestly administered as elsewhere.

Add Hawkins’s book to the long list of narratives lamenting the fact that New York’s best days are behind her, which seem to pop up in every era from the early nineteenth century on. Hawkins calls the time before immigration “the decent period” in the city’s history.

I happened to be biking by the East River yesterday and passed Corlears Hook Park. Here’s what it looks like today:

 

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Cycling is a great way to get to the Corlears Hook Park. Take Grand Street all the way to the FDR, turn right and follow the bike path. When you’re forced to turn right again, you’re there. The 14A bus also goes right by it.

I’ll pedal down to Coenties Slip one of these days and post some pictures afterward.

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No, not the B’hoys, and not the early 20c stage and film crew variously known as Dead End Kids, Little Tough Guys, East Side Kids, and Bowery Boys (pictured above).

I’m talking about the fantastic NYC history blog featuring weekly podcasts on neighborhood history. The most recent one features the Meatpacking District.

Who are these guys, and how do they have so much time for quality blogging like this? I’m green with envy; in any case, we’ve added them to the “Keys to the City” links at right.

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Start Date

Seal_of_New_York_City.pngAs today’s New York Times points out, the year that appears on the official seal of the City of New York — 1625 — was picked seemingly arbitrarily in 1974 and doesn’t refer to any event in particular.

Historians are hoping that the hoopla over next year’s 400th anniversary of Henrik Hudson’s discovery of New York harbor might bring the city to re-investigate the logic of the official dating of the city’s founding.

Other possibilities? 1623 or 1524 — when the first Dutch settlers arrived (the year depends on which historians you believe). 1626 — when the city was “purchased.” Or 1653 — when the city received an official charter.

Hopefully it all get sorted out before any official 400th anniversary celebration has to occur.

Under the Brooklyn Bridge

hellboy2thegoldenarmy.jpgUntil it heads off to the fabled Giants Causeway in Antrim, Northern Ireland, Guillermo del Toro‘s Hellboy 2: The Golden Army is a New York film, like its predecessor, 2004′s Hellboy. As I wrote in my post on Hancock, New York is still superhero central. (Though I’m told that Gotham City in The Dark Knight, which opens this week, is meant to be seen as a version of contemporary Chicago.)

In Hellboy 2, the elvish prince, Nuada (played by Luke Gross), emerges from under the streets of Manhattan to declare war on humankind. And underneath the eastern end of the Brooklyn Bridge is the troll market, which seems to be Del Toro’s homage to the famous cantina scene in Star Wars: A New Hope (1977). Last Sunday’s Arts & Leisure section of The New York Times featured an article about Del Toro’s fascination with fantastic creatures and the diaries of artwork in which the inspiration for Hellboy 2 took shape. [Click here for a multimedia version of the article.]

In both Hellboy films, the title character (played by Ron Perlman) chafes at being kept out of view and hidden from “the outside world.” He lives, after all, at the Bureau for Paranormal Research and Development, located in …. Trenton, New Jersey.

Bravo to Mayor Bloomberg for his Broadway Boulevard plan! According to The New York Times, work has begun “without formal annoucement” on an “esplanade” that will run from 42nd Street to Herald Square, “chang[ing] that section of Broadway from a four-lane to a two-lane street.” It’s scheduled to open in mid-August. Stymied by Albany in his effort to reduce traffic in Manhattan through “congestion pricing,” Bloomberg is looking for ways to take reclaim areas of the borough for pedestrians.

Jane Jacobs would be proud! You can read more about the project here.

fatsis_panic.jpgOne of the best things about my recent college reunion (the 25th!) was the opportunity to get to know Stefan Fatsis, who’s married to my college friend Melissa Block (of NPR and All Things Considered fame). Stefan is a journalist who writes for the Wall Street Journal, contributes to NPR, and is the author of Wild and Outside: How a Renegade Minor League Revived the Spirit of Baseball in America’s Heartland (1995) and Word Freak: Heartbreak, Triumph, Genius, and Obsession in the World of Competitive Scrabble Players (2001).

His new book is A Few Seconds of Panic: A 5-Foot-8, 170-Pound, 43-Year-Old Sportswriter Plays in the NFL, an account of how he tricked the Denver Broncos into “letting me do a Plimpton.” After training for a year with both a strength coach and a kicking coach, Stefan joined the Broncos as a place-kicker during their 2006 training camp. The result is an inside-account of life with a professional football team that has already received shouts in the the July 11 issue of Entertainment Weekly and the July 14 issue of Time magazine, as well as a glowing review from the LA Times. You can find a brief interview with Stefan on nytimes.com 

Stefan will be appearing this Monday, July 14, at 7:00 p.m. at the Barnes and Noble on Broadway and 82nd Street to read from the book. You can also catch him at at the Barnes and Noble in Park Slope on August 8 at 7:00 p.m. If you’re not in the city, you can find out about his book tour at stefanfatsis.com.

What is it that drives so many tourists, once they’ve paid the exorbitant costs to get to New York and house themselves, to go to dinner at the Olive Garden? It’s something I’ll never understand.

pioneer.JPGI had a similar thought the other day as we were waiting to board the Pioneer, the South Street Seaport Museum’s 1885 steel-hull schooner. I’ve blogged about the Pioneer elsewhere and even wrote about it for my first post here last fall; I won’t go into  too many details again.

But let me just say that on our sunny afternoon public sail we had only 6 passengers on the boat. (It holds  only 40 passengers max.) Meanwhile, a group of day campers in screaming loud tie-dye swarmed on board the obnoxious Shark one pier over, and right next to us hundreds of European tourists (and the few midwesterners who are braving the city this summer) waddled on board the Zephyr as if it were Noah’s Ark. I don’t know how many passengers the Shark holds, but the Zephyr can take up to 600!

zephyr.circleline.JPGWhy would anyone choose to restrict themselves to a narrow seat, crammed in with a million other people, only to float around so removed from the water that you feel like you’re merely watching this all pass by on TV? Is this part of reality culture, that we want our real experiences to feel as if they’re on screen?

I’ll take a splash of the water over the side and help hoist my own sails anytime.

To find out more about sailing on the Pioneer click here.

p.s. Eliasson’s waterfalls? Completely underwhelming. How can they not be stacked up against the Brooklyn Bridge or the skyline itself?

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Or, if anyone wants to take this back to ’94, maybe that should be the Wackness of the Whale?

Caleb Crain had the great idea to cut and paste the entire text of Moby-Dick into the online  tag-cloud widget Worldle, which he asked to search for the top 365 words. Here’s what resulted:

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And yes, by popular demand he set up a Cafe Press page so you can order it as a T-shirt. What about the mugs?

I thought about this image yesterday when my kids and I climbed on board the schooner Pioneer and, following the safety speech, the captain said out loud, to no one and everyone, in spite of the beautiful July skies: “Whenever it is a damp, drizzly, November in my soul …” And then we went sailing.

In other NYC literary reference matters …

Readers familiar with my left shoulder will know I wear my Whitmania on my sleeve, as it were. So I’m always tickled to find new Walt goodies on the Web. Until recently I’d never stumbled across the page Whitman’s Brooklyn, which I highly recommend, especially to those who feel like the fellow sold out when he designated himself a son of Manhattan. Seriously, though, can you imagine it if the line went: “Walt Whitman, a kosmos, of Brooklyn the son”?

Finally, I should note that I found Whitman’s Brooklyn via a comment on Edge of the American West, one of our favorite blogs. On a few occasions we’ve shamelessly borrowed the format for their regular “This Day in History” feature, and I’m sure we’ll do so again. It’s too good an idea not to steal. (Though I think Cyrus beat them to finding a relevant date for memorializing a Stones album.) On the 5th of July their newest contributor, SEK, a PhD candidate out on that side of the continent, put up some of Whitman’s anonymous self-promotional meta-poetry to honor the anniversary of shamelessly promoting Leaves. (The anniversary for Leaves itself was, of course, on the 4th.) It’s worth checking out if you’ve never seen it, but don’t let it stand for returning to the original.

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Circus Amok

miller_amok.jpgI’m on the Circus Amok mailing list, and I just received an e-mail saying that they’re holding auditions for an acrobat this Friday in Brooklyn.

Circus Amok is politically subversive theater that drawns on the long tradition of the jester as social commentator. Circus Amok brings together the leftiest-of-left social commentary with juggling, tumbling, clowning and a bearded lady, Jennifer Miller, who is both the founder of Circus Amok and its mistress of ceremonies.

The shows are funny, ribald, and topical: last year’s show, Bee-Dazzled, explored the link between the war in Iraq and a mysterious disappearance of honeybees. One sketch featured a spider called “Cheney” that tried to eat various performers.

You can see a video segment from The New York Times’s UrbanEye by clicking here. Click here for Circus Amok’s website. And for an insightful discussion of Jennifer Miller and the traditions she has inherited, see Sideshow U.S.A.: Freaks and the American Imagination by Rachel Adams (Columbia University). You can read a relevant excerpt via Google Books.

The circus will bring a new show to New York’s parks starting this September 6th. Meanwhile, if you’re an acrobat and you’d like to audition for the show, click on the continuation link below.

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