Has
Although I often wish that the park could return to its glory days of the late 1950’s, early 1960’s I do realize that one of the only certainties in life is that all things change. Nothing is forever and I guess the best I can hope for is that
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
Extra, Extra
Windows on the Square
Setting:
A man and women are sitting at a kitchen table. Both are cupping a coffee cup but neither are speaking; Across from the table is a couch with a pair of ballet slipper slung over the side. They are both starring down at the same spot on the table. On the table top is a white envelop.
Owen: But it isn’t addressed to me, it is addressed to you.
A: I know but I don’t think that I can stop shaking long enough to open it without tearing what is inside.
O: So then we can just sit here a bit longer until you think you are ready to open it.
A: We have been waiting for this letter for weeks…the contents of this letter could really change our lives. You should just open it.
O: But you’ve done all of the work. It really should be you who opens it.
A: I know, I know. It’s just that I’ve waited so long to get here and now that the moment is here I don’t know if I want to know anymore. Maybe the not knowing isn’t that bad.
O:
A: You don’t think that I know that. You don’t think that I haven’t laid awake at night thinking about all of this. How am I supposed to choose? But really is there even a choice to make?
O: There isn’t really a right answer here. All I’m saying is that this affects you just as much as it affects me.
A: I know that it does. We have talked about all of this before. I just don’t know.
O: Well then you should open the envelop so that we know what we are dealing with. I’m tired of living in the land of hypotheticals.
A: You don’t have to get mean about it.
O: I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be mean I just want to know what the letter says inside of the envelop.
A: Okay. I’m going to open it now. (Opens the envelop, skims the writing. Closes the letter and puts it back into the envelop. Slides it over to Owen.)
O: Well, what did it say?
A: It said what I wanted it to say.
O: (Owen looks down into his coffee cup.) Well that is great news. I guess you are going to
A: I can’t believe I got it. I mean so many ballerinas tried out for so few spots and I can’t believe that I actually made it. I have worked my entire life for this one moment.
O: Well Al, I’m really happy for you. You deserve it.
(
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
Edward Hopper - Nightawks painting
Nighthawks 1942 (120 Kb); Oil on canvas, 30 x 60 in; The Art Institute of Chicago
Paintings such as Nighthawks (Art Institute of Chicago, 1942) convey a mood of loneliness and desolation by their emptiness or by the presence of anonymous, non-communicating figures. But of this picture Hopper said: `I didn't see it as particularly lonely... Unconsciously, probably, I was painting the loneliness of a large city.' Deliberately so or not, in his still, reserved, and blandly handled paintings Hopper often exerts a powerful psychological impact -- distantly akin to that made by the Metaphysical painter de Chirico; but while de Chirico's effect was obtained by making the unreal seem real, Hopper's was rooted in the presentation of the familiar and concrete.
The Fire That Changed America
The Triangle Shirtwaist Factory fire in New York City on March 25, 1911, was the
largest industrial disaster in the history of the city of New York, causing the death of 146 garment workers who either died trapped behind locked fire exits or jumped to their deaths. It was the worst workplace disaster in New York City until September 11th, 2001. The tragedy led to fundamental health and safety reforms in New York City and the US and helped the growth of the International Ladies' Garment Workers' Union, which fought for better working conditions for sweatshop workers in that industry.
The Story of the Fire
The Triangle Shirtwaist Company was New York’s largest manufacturer of blouses. Owned by Max Blanck and Isaac Harris, the sweatshop occupied the eight, ninth and tenth floors of the ten-story Asch building in New York City at 23-29 Washington Place, the northern corner of Washington Square East. The company employed approximately 500 workers, most of them young immigrants girls and young women, Russian/ Jewish and Italian, in their teens and early 20’s, who worked 70 or more hours per week, in a overcrowded, dimly lit rooms, without overtime pay and earned about $6 per week – a less than living wage.
On the Saturday of March 25th, 1911, only 5 minutes before the slaves of the sewing machines would have hurried to their homes, a fire began on the eighth floor, possibly sparked by a lit match or a cigarette or because of faulty electrical wiring. Because of the highly inflammable materials that were used in the clothes industry, in ten minutes the three floors were all on fire. Most of the workers who were alerted on the tenth and eighth floors were able to evacuate. However, the warning about the fire did not reach the ninth floor on time. The ninth floor had only two doors leading out. One stairwell was already filling with smoke and flames by the time the employees realized the building was on fire. The other door had been locked to prevent workers from stealing materials or taking breaks and to keep out union organizers.
The single exterior fire escape, a poorly-anchored iron structure, soon twisted and collapsed under the weight of people trying to escape. The elevator also stopped working, cutting off that means of escape, partly because the panicked workers tried to save themselves by jumping on the roof of the elevator. Finding the doors locked, the girls rushed to the windows and jumped to the pavement nine floors below, much to the horror of the large crowd of bystanders gathering on the street level. “Others were pushed out by the pressure behind. In other instance two girls came down from the ninth story in each other’s arms. Others were seen embracing and kissing each other before making the final leap” – Duchez, page 667.
The remainder waited until smoke and fire overcame them. The fire department arrived quickly but was unable to stop the flames, as there were no ladders available that could reach beyond the sixth floor. Nets and blankets were used in an effort to save as many lives as possible, but they broke under the weight of three or four bodies falling into them at the same time. Some of the people manage to save themselves by going up on the roof of the building or by leaping on the roof of the elevator. “One girl, after falling six stories, was rescued from a large hook beside a window at the third story, where she was hanging by her clothes, face downward” ” – Duchez, page 667. By the time the fire was over, 146 of the 500 employees had died: 123 young women and 23 men. Many of the victims were identified only because of jewelries which were found on skeleton fingers, necks and ears, as the bodies were completely burnt making it impossible to be recognize. The survivors were left to live and relive those agonizing moments.
The mental and physical agony resulting from this terrible murder of industrial slaves will stretch out into the years. The victims and their families, the people passing by who witnessed the desperate leaps from ninth floor windows and the City of New York will never be the same.
largest industrial disaster in the history of the city of New York, causing the death of 146 garment workers who either died trapped behind locked fire exits or jumped to their deaths. It was the worst workplace disaster in New York City until September 11th, 2001. The tragedy led to fundamental health and safety reforms in New York City and the US and helped the growth of the International Ladies' Garment Workers' Union, which fought for better working conditions for sweatshop workers in that industry.
The Story of the Fire
The Triangle Shirtwaist Company was New York’s largest manufacturer of blouses. Owned by Max Blanck and Isaac Harris, the sweatshop occupied the eight, ninth and tenth floors of the ten-story Asch building in New York City at 23-29 Washington Place, the northern corner of Washington Square East. The company employed approximately 500 workers, most of them young immigrants girls and young women, Russian/ Jewish and Italian, in their teens and early 20’s, who worked 70 or more hours per week, in a overcrowded, dimly lit rooms, without overtime pay and earned about $6 per week – a less than living wage.
On the Saturday of March 25th, 1911, only 5 minutes before the slaves of the sewing machines would have hurried to their homes, a fire began on the eighth floor, possibly sparked by a lit match or a cigarette or because of faulty electrical wiring. Because of the highly inflammable materials that were used in the clothes industry, in ten minutes the three floors were all on fire. Most of the workers who were alerted on the tenth and eighth floors were able to evacuate. However, the warning about the fire did not reach the ninth floor on time. The ninth floor had only two doors leading out. One stairwell was already filling with smoke and flames by the time the employees realized the building was on fire. The other door had been locked to prevent workers from stealing materials or taking breaks and to keep out union organizers.
The single exterior fire escape, a poorly-anchored iron structure, soon twisted and collapsed under the weight of people trying to escape. The elevator also stopped working, cutting off that means of escape, partly because the panicked workers tried to save themselves by jumping on the roof of the elevator. Finding the doors locked, the girls rushed to the windows and jumped to the pavement nine floors below, much to the horror of the large crowd of bystanders gathering on the street level. “Others were pushed out by the pressure behind. In other instance two girls came down from the ninth story in each other’s arms. Others were seen embracing and kissing each other before making the final leap” – Duchez, page 667.
The remainder waited until smoke and fire overcame them. The fire department arrived quickly but was unable to stop the flames, as there were no ladders available that could reach beyond the sixth floor. Nets and blankets were used in an effort to save as many lives as possible, but they broke under the weight of three or four bodies falling into them at the same time. Some of the people manage to save themselves by going up on the roof of the building or by leaping on the roof of the elevator. “One girl, after falling six stories, was rescued from a large hook beside a window at the third story, where she was hanging by her clothes, face downward” ” – Duchez, page 667. By the time the fire was over, 146 of the 500 employees had died: 123 young women and 23 men. Many of the victims were identified only because of jewelries which were found on skeleton fingers, necks and ears, as the bodies were completely burnt making it impossible to be recognize. The survivors were left to live and relive those agonizing moments.
The mental and physical agony resulting from this terrible murder of industrial slaves will stretch out into the years. The victims and their families, the people passing by who witnessed the desperate leaps from ninth floor windows and the City of New York will never be the same.
On The Road
On the Road was written in three weeks, while Kerouac lived with Joan Haverty, his second wife, at 454 West 20th Street in Manhattan. Kerouac typed the manuscript on what he called "the scroll": a continuous, one hundred twenty-foot scroll of tracing paper sheets that he cut to size and taped together.The roll was typed single-spaced, without margins or paragraph breaks. Contrary to rumor, Kerouac said he used no stimulants during the brief but productive writing session, other than coffee.
Recently, it was discovered that Kerouac first started writing On the Road in French, a language in which he also wrote two unpublished novels. These writings are in dialectal Quebec French, and predate by a decade the first novels of Michel Tremblay.
"The scroll" still exists — it was bought in 2001, by Jim Irsay (Indianapolis Colts football team owner), for $2.4 million, and is available for public viewing. The scroll was displayed in sections at Indiana University's Lilly Library in mid-2003, and, in January 2004, the roll started a thirteen-stop, four-year national tour of museums and libraries, starting at the Orange County History Center in Orlando, Florida. From January through March 2006, it was at the San Francisco Public Library with the first 30 feet unrolled. It spent three months at the New York Public Library in 2007, and in the spring of 2008 will be at the Harry Ransom Humanities Research Center at the University of Texas at Austin. The scroll will travel next to Columbia College Chicago in the fall of 2008.
The legend of how Kerouac wrote On the Road excludes the tedious organization and preparation preceding the creative explosion. Kerouac carried small notebooks, in which much of the text was written as the eventful seven-year span of road trips unfurled. He furthermore revised the scroll's text several times before Malcolm Cowley, of Viking Press, agreed to publish it. Besides the differences in formatting, the original scroll manuscript contained real names and was longer than the published novel. Kerouac deleted sections (including some sexual depictions deemed pornographic in 1957) and added smaller literary passages. Viking Press released a slightly edited version of the original manuscript on 16 August 2007 titled On the Road: The Original Scroll corresponding with the 50th anniversary of original publication. This version has been transcribed and edited by English academic and novelist, Dr Howard Cunnell. As well as containing material that was excised from the original draft due to its explicit nature the scroll version also uses the real names of the protagonists, so Dean Moriarty becomes Neal Cassady and Carlo Marx becomes Allen Ginsberg etc.
As of 2006, the book is slated for cinematic adaptation as On the Road to be directed by Walter Salles.
Fales Library
The Fales Library & Special Collections serves as the repository for special collections materials in the Elmer Bobst Library at New York University and is committed to preserving the artistic expression of relevant cultural movements in their original formats, including books, manuscripts, archives, and other media. Fales complements the collection policies in the general stacks by supplying primary resources for scholarly research and by prospectively collecting works that will become important historical evidence, documenting the changes in expressive culture.
The Downtown Collection, which began in 1993, is such an attempt to document the downtown arts scene that evolved in SoHo and the Lower East Side during the 1970's through the early 1990's. The movement, taken as a whole, was very diverse, and its output includes literature, music, theater, performance, film, activism, dance, photography, video, and original art. The goal of the Downtown Collection is to comprehensively collect the full range of artistic practices and outputs, regardless of format. . This research collection, built on a documentary strategy, provides primary resources for scholars who are interested in the role of literature and the printed word-but also its necessary intersection with other forms of artistic expression-in the history and culture of downtown New York. Its goal is to document the downtown community, which NYU is associated with in common thought.
The Downtown Collection, which began in 1993, is such an attempt to document the downtown arts scene that evolved in SoHo and the Lower East Side during the 1970's through the early 1990's. The movement, taken as a whole, was very diverse, and its output includes literature, music, theater, performance, film, activism, dance, photography, video, and original art. The goal of the Downtown Collection is to comprehensively collect the full range of artistic practices and outputs, regardless of format. . This research collection, built on a documentary strategy, provides primary resources for scholars who are interested in the role of literature and the printed word-but also its necessary intersection with other forms of artistic expression-in the history and culture of downtown New York. Its goal is to document the downtown community, which NYU is associated with in common thought.
New York Public Library
In our visit to the NY Public Library we got the chance to see the Jack Kerouac Exhibition. Below i will talk a little bit about this visit and about what i have seen.
Diaries, manuscripts, snapshots, and personal items of Jack Kerouac, the visionary author whose pioneering work helped to established the Beat Movement in the United States, were on display in Beatific Soul: Jack Kerouac on the Road, an exhibition on view at The New York Public Library. The exhibition coincided with the 50th anniversary of Kerouac's landmark novel, "On the Road", which has captured the imagination of several generations and established its author as a major figure in American literature. The exhibition was drawn almost exclusively from the contents of the Jack Kerouac Archive, housed in the Library's Henry W. and Albert A. Berg Collection of English and American Literature, and displayed many unpublished Kerouac materials as well as typescript and manuscript drafts of On the Road. A major highlight of the exhibition was the famous "scroll" typescript, on loan from James Irsay, owner of the National Football League's Indianapolis Colts, of which the first sixty feet was unrolled in a specially-designed set of interlocking display cases.
Diaries, manuscripts, snapshots, and personal items of Jack Kerouac, the visionary author whose pioneering work helped to established the Beat Movement in the United States, were on display in Beatific Soul: Jack Kerouac on the Road, an exhibition on view at The New York Public Library. The exhibition coincided with the 50th anniversary of Kerouac's landmark novel, "On the Road", which has captured the imagination of several generations and established its author as a major figure in American literature. The exhibition was drawn almost exclusively from the contents of the Jack Kerouac Archive, housed in the Library's Henry W. and Albert A. Berg Collection of English and American Literature, and displayed many unpublished Kerouac materials as well as typescript and manuscript drafts of On the Road. A major highlight of the exhibition was the famous "scroll" typescript, on loan from James Irsay, owner of the National Football League's Indianapolis Colts, of which the first sixty feet was unrolled in a specially-designed set of interlocking display cases.
NYHS
The New york Historical Society is home to both NYew York City's oldest Museum and one of the nation's most distinguished independent research librabries.
The Society is dedicated to presenting exhibitions and public programs, and fostering research that reveal the dynamism of history and its influence on the world of today. Founded in 1804, its holdings cover four centuries of American history, and include one of the world’s greatest collections of historical artifacts, American art and other materials documenting the history of the United States as seen through the prism of New York City and State.
Forty thousand of the Society’s most treasured pieces are on permanent display in the Henry Luce III Center for the Study of American Culture, and a self-guided audio tour brings these artifacts to life with anecdotes and stories. Our collections provide the foundation for exploration of the nation’s richly layered past and support the Society’s mission to provide a forum for debate and examination of issues surrounding the making and meaning of history.
The Society is dedicated to presenting exhibitions and public programs, and fostering research that reveal the dynamism of history and its influence on the world of today. Founded in 1804, its holdings cover four centuries of American history, and include one of the world’s greatest collections of historical artifacts, American art and other materials documenting the history of the United States as seen through the prism of New York City and State.
Forty thousand of the Society’s most treasured pieces are on permanent display in the Henry Luce III Center for the Study of American Culture, and a self-guided audio tour brings these artifacts to life with anecdotes and stories. Our collections provide the foundation for exploration of the nation’s richly layered past and support the Society’s mission to provide a forum for debate and examination of issues surrounding the making and meaning of history.
The Morgan Museum
About the Morgan
A complex of buildings in the heart of New York City, The Morgan Library & Museum began as the private library of financier Pierpont Morgan (1837–1913), one of the preeminent collectors and cultural benefactors in the United States. As early as 1890 Morgan had begun to assemble a collection of illuminated, literary, and historical manuscripts, early printed books, and old master drawings and prints.Mr. Morgan's library, as it was known in his lifetime, was built between 1902 and 1906 adjacent to his New York residence at Madison Avenue and 36th Street. Designed by Charles McKim of the architectural firm McKim, Mead & White, the library was intended as something more than a repository of rare materials. Majestic in appearance yet intimate in scale, the structure was to reflect the nature and stature of its holdings. The result was an Italian Renaissance-style palazzo with three magnificent rooms epitomizing America's Age of Elegance. Completed three years before McKim's death, it is considered by many to be his masterpiece. In 1924, eleven years after Pierpont Morgan's death, his son, J. P. Morgan, Jr. (1867–1943), known as Jack, realized that the library had become too important to remain in private hands. In what constituted one of the most momentous cultural gifts in U.S. history, he fulfilled his father's dream of making the library and its treasures available to scholars and the public alike by transforming it into a public institution. Over the years—through purchases and generous gifts—The Morgan Library & Museum has continued to acquire rare materials as well as important music manuscripts, early children's books, Americana, and materials from the twentieth century. Without losing its decidedly domestic feeling, the Morgan also has expanded its physical space considerably. In 1928, the Annex building was erected on the corner of Madison Avenue and 36th Street, Pierpont Morgan's residence. The Annex connected to the original McKim library by means of a gallery. In 1988, Jack Morgan's former residence—a mid-nineteenth century brownstone on Madison Avenue and 37th Street—also was added to the complex. The 1991 garden court was constructed as a means to unite the various elements of the Morgan campus.The largest expansion in the Morgan's history, adding 75,000 square feet to the campus, was completed in 2006. Designed by Pritzker Prize–winning architect Renzo Piano, the project increases exhibition space by more than fifty percent and adds important visitor amenities, including a new performance hall, a welcoming entrance on Madison Avenue, a new café and a new restaurant, a shop, a new reading room, and collections storage. Piano's design integrates the Morgan's three historical buildings with three new modestly scaled steel-and-glass pavilions. A soaring central court connects the buildings and serves as a gathering place for visitors in the spirit of an Italian piazza.
A complex of buildings in the heart of New York City, The Morgan Library & Museum began as the private library of financier Pierpont Morgan (1837–1913), one of the preeminent collectors and cultural benefactors in the United States. As early as 1890 Morgan had begun to assemble a collection of illuminated, literary, and historical manuscripts, early printed books, and old master drawings and prints.Mr. Morgan's library, as it was known in his lifetime, was built between 1902 and 1906 adjacent to his New York residence at Madison Avenue and 36th Street. Designed by Charles McKim of the architectural firm McKim, Mead & White, the library was intended as something more than a repository of rare materials. Majestic in appearance yet intimate in scale, the structure was to reflect the nature and stature of its holdings. The result was an Italian Renaissance-style palazzo with three magnificent rooms epitomizing America's Age of Elegance. Completed three years before McKim's death, it is considered by many to be his masterpiece. In 1924, eleven years after Pierpont Morgan's death, his son, J. P. Morgan, Jr. (1867–1943), known as Jack, realized that the library had become too important to remain in private hands. In what constituted one of the most momentous cultural gifts in U.S. history, he fulfilled his father's dream of making the library and its treasures available to scholars and the public alike by transforming it into a public institution. Over the years—through purchases and generous gifts—The Morgan Library & Museum has continued to acquire rare materials as well as important music manuscripts, early children's books, Americana, and materials from the twentieth century. Without losing its decidedly domestic feeling, the Morgan also has expanded its physical space considerably. In 1928, the Annex building was erected on the corner of Madison Avenue and 36th Street, Pierpont Morgan's residence. The Annex connected to the original McKim library by means of a gallery. In 1988, Jack Morgan's former residence—a mid-nineteenth century brownstone on Madison Avenue and 37th Street—also was added to the complex. The 1991 garden court was constructed as a means to unite the various elements of the Morgan campus.The largest expansion in the Morgan's history, adding 75,000 square feet to the campus, was completed in 2006. Designed by Pritzker Prize–winning architect Renzo Piano, the project increases exhibition space by more than fifty percent and adds important visitor amenities, including a new performance hall, a welcoming entrance on Madison Avenue, a new café and a new restaurant, a shop, a new reading room, and collections storage. Piano's design integrates the Morgan's three historical buildings with three new modestly scaled steel-and-glass pavilions. A soaring central court connects the buildings and serves as a gathering place for visitors in the spirit of an Italian piazza.
SOME POETRY SOMETIMES ON FRIDAY NIGHTS.
hey guys.so I'll be co-curating a friday night reading series with my comrade diana hamilton, who's also graduating from nyu this semester, at the poetry project at st. mark's church (2nd avenue and 10th street) starting this fall. I just figured I'd post something since I know a lot of you write poetry, rather good poetry too, of your own and might want to know about some poetry happenings around town to take in on friday nights. if you're interested, the readings start at 10 and go until 12 and friday night has traditionally been the "fun" night where genres get crossed, so there's a good chance there will be bands and music and poetry and performances and films and group readings and poet pot-luck like things going on throughout the upcoming season which starts september 24th (?) and goes until early june of next year.
we have yet to curate any concrete shows yet, but you can check at the website, http://www.poetryproject.com, in the calendar section and they'll probably be posted by mid-august. otherwise, if you want to email us for anything you can get us at poetryprojectfridays@gmail.com.
and...the poetry project at st. mark's church has a pretty crazy history of poets and readings and things, so if you're interested you can check that out however you please. but otherwise, I hope to see maybe some of you at some of the readings, it would be most quite lovely. bring your ears and some beers and maybe I'll see you there.
---nicole wallace.
TAMIMENT TIMES.
Having been involved in a whole lot of archival research studying throughout this last year, I surprisingly haven’t had to touch the Tamiment Library’s collection. So, going on the class visit trip to the top of Bobst to visit the old Tamiment for me was an exciting archival adventure. Before going up there and seeing what Tamiment was really all about, the idea of it, especially in comparison to all the most excellent collections in Fales, seemed a little dull. I knew they mostly concentrated on their collection of labor archives and the like, and I really felt like I had a pretty strong aversion to those kinds of papers. But then we went up there and sat in some classroom without windows and passed around books full of old documents and pictures. To my own surprise, there was a lot of stuff up in old Tamiment that I actually had a genuine interest in. For one thing, the Triangle Shirt-Waist Factory fire has always extremely intrigued me and they had all of those old photos from the scene of the fire and some photocopies of newspaper clippings to look at and hold in your hands instead of looking at them online. Freshman year I got some crazy idea in my head about that fire and ghosts and businesses like that and wrote a poem about it in my old journal, so that really impressed me to see those things in person.
Then the guy took out some issues of Max Eastman’s self-published magazine, The Masses. By this point in the semester I think everyone is perhaps familiar with my complete obsession with the self-published magazine, it’s kind of all I ever talk about, so I’ll save you from more compulsive ramblings. I’ll just say this: I loved that I could look at and hold some tangible form of an historical pre-cursor to the magazines I’m most interested in from the 1960s.
When he started talking about all those old folk and labor song collections they had stored in the archives, he really pulled out those big guns. Although I haven’t been back to the archives yet, I was excited to learn that they were open to the public so my privileges will not be taken away as long as I am a part of what is considered the “public.” Once I am liberated from the chains of my current academic situation of finals and things, I will go back over to the Tamiment and try to listen to some of those old folk songs. I’m thinking about going into the business of playing traditional songs on the guitar and singing along with them sometime starting this summer. Maybe this will give me a little more of a potential repertoire to work with.
---nicole wallace.
Monday, May 5, 2008
this is my favorite beat poem that i read in class..
5am
Elan that lifts me above the clouds
into pure space, timeless, yea eternal
Breath transmuted into words
Transmuted back to breath
in one hundred two hundred years
nearly Immortal, Sappho's 26 centuries
of cadenced breathing -- beyond time, clocks, empires, bodies, cars,
chariots, rocket ships skyscrapers, Nation empires
brass walls, polished marble, Inca Artwork
of the mind -- but where's it come from?
Inspiration? The muses drawing breath for you? God?
Nah, don't believe it, you'll get entangled in Heaven or Hell --
Guilt power, that makes the heart beat wake all night
flooding mind with space, echoing through future cities, Megalopolis or
Cretan village, Zeus' birth cave Lassithi Plains -- Otsego County
farmhouse, Kansas front porch?
Buddha's a help, promises ordinary mind no nirvana --
coffee, alcohol, cocaine, mushrooms, marijuana, laughing gas?
Nope, too heavy for this lightness lifts the brain into blue sky
at May dawn when birds start singing on East 12th street --
Where does it come from, where does it go forever?
- Allen Ginsberg
Elan that lifts me above the clouds
into pure space, timeless, yea eternal
Breath transmuted into words
Transmuted back to breath
in one hundred two hundred years
nearly Immortal, Sappho's 26 centuries
of cadenced breathing -- beyond time, clocks, empires, bodies, cars,
chariots, rocket ships skyscrapers, Nation empires
brass walls, polished marble, Inca Artwork
of the mind -- but where's it come from?
Inspiration? The muses drawing breath for you? God?
Nah, don't believe it, you'll get entangled in Heaven or Hell --
Guilt power, that makes the heart beat wake all night
flooding mind with space, echoing through future cities, Megalopolis or
Cretan village, Zeus' birth cave Lassithi Plains -- Otsego County
farmhouse, Kansas front porch?
Buddha's a help, promises ordinary mind no nirvana --
coffee, alcohol, cocaine, mushrooms, marijuana, laughing gas?
Nope, too heavy for this lightness lifts the brain into blue sky
at May dawn when birds start singing on East 12th street --
Where does it come from, where does it go forever?
- Allen Ginsberg
7am- based off of hoppers 7am
The free and easy Nantucket air created a soft and silky breeze that was only noticeable through the constant chatter of leaves. The grand white house had seen its share of summers come and gone, but this coming summer would be its last, and it somehow conveyed this through its windows and doors. There was a sad but strong sense to the house, full of light yet empty of life. The house had been abandoned for years, and the last owners had left a myriad of objects on the front porch as a sort of reminder that someone at some point in time called it home. An old brass clock hung on the porch, stuck and rusted reading seven am. Old ginger ale bottles and small sketches the old mother had made littered the bench that stretched the façade of the old white house. The late afternoon light poured over the white wood and cast dark and long shadows that crept in and out of the many rooms that made up this mystic residence. Like an island among a raging sea, the immaculately white house shone bright amidst a forest teeming with green life. Dogwoods, Pines, Oak and Maple trees climbed high around the house and stopped only at the widow’s walk that crowned this unloved jewel. This effect was so astounding, that when the family would spend time on top of the house, it was as if they were atop the canopy of some primordial jungle. It was easy to lose one’s way on the island, especially in such an isolated area, and when the children lost their way in the forest, the white bars and railings that encased the widow’s walk became the northern star of daytime activity. The warm yellows whites and greens that made up the surrounding structures created a heavenly ambiance, a carefree and lacsidaisical aura that belied the last scene that took place in the old white house. One couldn’t tell from the surrounding hills if one was screaming. One couldn’t sense from the town below if someone was begging or pleading. In fact, the old white house wasn’t exactly visible from the cobblestone streets that swarmed beneath it. The only observable characteristic of the residence from the busybodies down below was a momentary clearing in the forest for the small and inconspicuous widow’s walk that barely jutted out from the surrounding tree branches. The remoteness of the cottage was a characteristic always scorned by the mother, and had her husband not promised to finally visit her parents that year, the house would’ve been demolished as scheduled. But, as chance would have it, this agreement appeased his wife, and he finally purchased the summer home he had always hoped of living in. What he did not know, however, was that the first and only summer spent in his beloved old white house would be the summer home he would be murdered in.
So this is kind of a poem about all the field trips we went on because this is about as much as i remember from each place.....
Where is the spirit of the village?
Where is the spirit of our city?
Is it in the scrolls of edgar allen poe?
Carefully hidden in the rolls of his scroll?
Is it in Morgan’s music room?
Carved in the mahogany?
Is it in Hopper’s studio?
Shimmering in a lightless corner?
Is it amongst the bodies that lay lifeless beneath the arch?
Is it buried underneath the many layers of Pollock’s paintings?
Lost, never to be found again
Is it laying low in the pews of Judson Memorial church?
Hiding from the homeless and they’re unanswered gazes
Is it on display on a window on fifth avenue
Perfectly polished but never used?
Is it strewn among the seeds that feed the flocking pigeons
In the dark park?
Carefully and cripplingly alone and lonely?
Will we ever find it again?
Or we forever be on the road, in search of
What once was easily sensed
Now fenced
Where is the spirit of the village?
Where is the spirit of our city?
Where is the spirit of our city?
Is it in the scrolls of edgar allen poe?
Carefully hidden in the rolls of his scroll?
Is it in Morgan’s music room?
Carved in the mahogany?
Is it in Hopper’s studio?
Shimmering in a lightless corner?
Is it amongst the bodies that lay lifeless beneath the arch?
Is it buried underneath the many layers of Pollock’s paintings?
Lost, never to be found again
Is it laying low in the pews of Judson Memorial church?
Hiding from the homeless and they’re unanswered gazes
Is it on display on a window on fifth avenue
Perfectly polished but never used?
Is it strewn among the seeds that feed the flocking pigeons
In the dark park?
Carefully and cripplingly alone and lonely?
Will we ever find it again?
Or we forever be on the road, in search of
What once was easily sensed
Now fenced
Where is the spirit of the village?
Where is the spirit of our city?
FALES TALES.
I love Fales Special Collections, and I am going to most certainly miss all of its archival charm once big Bobst starts rejecting my NYU card come this fair-weather fall. My very first encounter with Fales Special Collections was back in the Fall of 2007, when I journeyed there for a class “trip,” or whatever you call those things. I was with my Walt Whitman course classmates and we took the elevator up to the third floor, walked down a hallway and then into a room filled with one long line of tables filled with old books and manuscripts. Amongst the weathered and preserved periodicals, novels and books were some first editions, self-published editions and other varying versions of Walt Whitman’s great Leaves of Grass. I think it was Mr. Mike Kelly who led us through these publications of the past, gingerly turning the pages and showing off some frontispieces. The second time I found Fales, I was alone and bored before winter break took me back to the Midwest when curiosity, instead of killing the cat, got the best of me and brought me through those third floor doors. I had heard from my supervisors, over there at the Poetry Project at St. Mark’s Church, that poet and punk “musician”/icon, Richard Hell, had sold the entirety of his writing collection, publications, notebooks, papers, pictures and ephemera of the like to Fales only a few years before. So, of course, I had to go read all those secret scribbled sentences and type-writer typed letters in his earliest archived notebook. It was quite exciting because it was kind of like breaking the rules, but at the same time, I sat there obliging them, scribbling my notes in pencil lead and not with an ink pen.
Then our very own Life on the Square class tripped their way on over to Fales to have our own little meeting with Mr. Mike Kelly. He was as charmingly informed and knowledgeable about the collections as ever, except his whole book spread had completely mutated in to an array of various ephemeral pamphlets, neighborhood maps, carefully preserved novels and, my very personal favorite, stacks of self-published magazines like The Masses, Punk Magazine and my even more personal favorite, Fuck You/ A Magazine of the Arts by poet and publisher, Ed Sanders. I was not so disappointed with Mr. Kelly’s new arrangement of materials from deep within the bowels of Fales archives, but I was rather enchanted.
So, then I went back to Fales on my own, yet again. It was only partially for research reasons for class, but I don’t think I could have gotten myself out of my bed in the morning had it not been something I was really most honestly and devotedly curiously interested in. I was on the hunt for some of those legendary self-published magazines coming from the Lower East Side in the 1960s, including, Ed Sander’s charming little title, Fuck You, Anne Waldman and Lewis Warsh’s Angel Hair, and Ted Berrigan’s C: A Journal of Poetry. These are the three self-published mimeographed poetry magazines I had really wanted to get my hands on, and because Fales exists, I did just that. I went back and forth to Fales for two weeks, three days each for several hours at a time, studying the manuscripts and poetry that were held in between those dusty old folders and held together by rusting falling out staples. However, time does not do those collections justice and I could only get through ¾ of the material from each collection before work, other homework, interning, and life stepped in my way and stomped out the fun. I want to get back to my mimeo magazine sleuth like studying as soon as school is really completely over, finals and all, but only ugly time will tell how many more swipes into old Bobst doors before I am let in for the very last time, my very last dance with Fales.
Rebecca Ferguson and Judson Church
When Rebecca Ferguson came in to talk to us, I couldn’t help but feel like she was just trying to do damage control—like she was used to people questioning her that she just assumed she was going have to defend the renovations, and her involvement with them, to us, too. And even though I expected her to be completely biased, I thought that what she said made a lot of sense. But I felt that it was almost a little silly that so she even needed to explain some of the things that she talked about. This renovation is meant to make the park better, not worse, and there are too many people involved in it, too many people who it is going to affect, for it to not turn out completely fine. And even it’s annoying that the park is closed for a while, I do think that it will be worth it.
Which brings me to the visit to Judson Church. I thought the whole thing was a waste of time. First, that woman was basically just saying that change is good until you get what you want, and then it everything should be the same forever. If the park stayed never changed, if it stayed exactly the same from its very creation, then we would still be burying yellow fever victims there. And besides, I don’t believe it’s actually going to change in any fundamental way. There will still be musicians. There will still be homeless people. There will still be drug dealers.
Which brings me to the visit to Judson Church. I thought the whole thing was a waste of time. First, that woman was basically just saying that change is good until you get what you want, and then it everything should be the same forever. If the park stayed never changed, if it stayed exactly the same from its very creation, then we would still be burying yellow fever victims there. And besides, I don’t believe it’s actually going to change in any fundamental way. There will still be musicians. There will still be homeless people. There will still be drug dealers.
Sex on the Square
So my final project was called Sex on the Square: A Then and Now of Getting it on in the Village. It was basically a book that I made that compared the activism of the feminists of the early twentieth century to how sex is perceived in areas around the park today. It included descriptions of the works of Elisabeth Irwin, Caroline Pratt, Margaret Sanger, Djuna Barnes, Elsa von Freytag-Loringhoven and Emma Goldman. For a contemporary perspective on sex, I incorporated some articles from newspapers, websites, magazines like Cosmo and Vogue (and maybe a porn or two…), some ephemera from “adult entertainment” clubs and stores around the park. There may have also been an unnecessary amount of free New York City condoms stapled inside. I’m sorry I didn’t get to share it with you all today.
Windows on Washington Square and Hopper
I had been working on a short story called “Storytellers” for a few weeks before the Windows on Washington Square assignment, but I felt that it truly represented the inspiration that the park can provide. I wrote the first paragraph of the story in my notebook in pencil sitting on a park bench, waiting for a class to start. I just wanted to write about the act of writing in the park, and how even though everyone walking by has a story that I will probably never know, it doesn’t matter what is true, just what I am inspired to create from the truth of the situation that I experience.
I feel that this is an important concept to keep in mind when thinking about Hopper. Chris and Kristen proved that his painting could be a snapshot from any number of scenes and situations, and any number of them could be true. But I also think that it is perfectly likely that none of the conceivable interpretations of his paintings are True, because I don’t really think that he is trying to portray truth. I think that he is more concerned with the creation of truth from an unknowable situation.
I feel that this is an important concept to keep in mind when thinking about Hopper. Chris and Kristen proved that his painting could be a snapshot from any number of scenes and situations, and any number of them could be true. But I also think that it is perfectly likely that none of the conceivable interpretations of his paintings are True, because I don’t really think that he is trying to portray truth. I think that he is more concerned with the creation of truth from an unknowable situation.
Tamiment Library and NYPL
I think the reason that collections like the Tamiment Library and the Jack Kerouac exhibit at the NYPL are so appealing is because of the realness of them. To be able to look at something and think, Jack Kerouac touched this notebook, that is his own handwriting, that is his blood dried on that piece of paper—it’s tangible creativity, visible history, relatable history. The collecting and presenting to thousands of people someone else’s private notebooks seems like such an enormous violation of privacy. And I said this in my post about Fales, too, but I will always be fascinated by the need to collect that was as a society has. The very fact that people keep things that aren’t supposed to be saved because they are some going to be history is amazing.
extra post #3
last blog! YEAH.
here's another piece from my final project:
when you really hit yr stride and there's nothing else to say
--------------------------
here's another piece from my final project:
when you really hit yr stride and there's nothing else to say
--------------------------
There’s nothing better than letting it all go, than letting it all hang free and getting it all out. I don’t know what it is, but I know when it’s there. It bubbles right up to the surface of my skin; all over my body, I can feel it, waiting to explode from my pores in some blinding wild brilliant flash. It’s not something sexual like some young cats might make it, it’s got nothing to do with fucking or even really anything to do with satisfaction. Sure there’s nothing wrong with being satisfied, but that’s not what it’s about, really; it’s about tension and testing strength and shouting as loud as you goddamn can when the blood’s really flowing. When those boys hit just the right notes and fall into a real classic Coltrane jam, it hits me like christ on his motherfucking cross it’s so gorgeous and pure and bubbling and I let out a yelp. A kid listening to the music and observing my spectacle shouts back, “You go my man! Let it out!” and I belt out another one. He gets it, he gets it, he gets it like so few do. I don’t come out here to fuck with idiot tourists. I’m here to get in touch with it, with soul, with the higher power with whatever name you want to assign it. But I don’t think it has a name or wants a name, I think it’s right in the deep bell of that tenor sax, under that kickdrum pedal, in the soles of my busted old tennis shoes as I spin around while my brother on the sax hits the peak of a song’s last solo. I think when you really hit yr stride and there’s nothing else to say that’s when you’ve got god on yr side, whether you believe in it or not. By the time they’re done playing that tune and I need to sit and rest my bones and lose a layer of sweaters I’m feeling it, I have hit my stride. I could stop but I won’t, that wouldn’t feel quite right, I’m just not ready to. I’ll keep going ‘til there’s nothing left and then I’ll know for sure I did it right.
extra post #2
here's my second xxxtra posts. my first was my window assignment. it's back there somewheres.
i read this poem in class today. it's part of my final:
holley
-----------------------
i read this poem in class today. it's part of my final:
holley
-----------------------
Watchful
Mindful
See all
Hear all
end all/be all
Made Steel and got a Stone memorial
Little ironies that hold
Us altogether
All one
We are
Ones all over the place
Sit down on my stoop
Rest yourselves
Watched over
Safe in my park
Our city
Our world
New York Historical Society
I gotta be honest: the NY Historical Society was wicked boring. Well, to be more specific, the guys who presented pieces of its collection were. It was boresville, for sure. I certainly didn't mind looking at old maps and sketches and city designs, that stuff is cool. But in regards to the big books of old address listings, I'm just going to come out and say it: I don't see the fascination with them (unless of course you're working on a project that requires you to know the names of specific people who lived on 8th Street in 1902). But that's beyond the point. The NYHS seems like an awesome resource if you're doing something that could utilize it, but just visiting for that brief talk didn't keep me too riveted.
Fales and Tamiment
Fales was excellent. Lots of neat old books with all kinds of silly information and old first editions. Can't beat cool shit like that. I especially enjoyed the old copies of "Fuck You!" magazines and the issues of "PUNK". That stuff is kind of my bag. The dude who led us through some of its collection was pretty excellent, too. I'm excited to go back there sometime either to do some research that might necessitate neat old books, or really old 'zines. Or I might just go and hang out there.
I probably wouldn't just go to Tamiment to hang out. It seems like there's a lot of interesting material available in the collection, but none of it is particularly what I'm interested in. I'm glad we went there, though, because otherwise I probably would have never known that it existed. Same goes for Fales; I had no idea that Bobst had these specialized "hey-check-out-this-really-old-stuff" sections. I guess don't ever really go there.
To sum it all up: the libarry is for learning!
I probably wouldn't just go to Tamiment to hang out. It seems like there's a lot of interesting material available in the collection, but none of it is particularly what I'm interested in. I'm glad we went there, though, because otherwise I probably would have never known that it existed. Same goes for Fales; I had no idea that Bobst had these specialized "hey-check-out-this-really-old-stuff" sections. I guess don't ever really go there.
To sum it all up: the libarry is for learning!
Hopper
As a Tisch student I have spent the past 4 years interpreting art. Pulling it apart, looking at individual aspects of a painting or a photograph is just the beginning. All art is subjective. One of the things I like best about art is that everyone has a different way of looking at it. I thought it was interesting how they used performance to interpret Hopper's painting. Using one art form to understand another. Hopper's paintings are so theatrical on their own that seeing them acted out was like being part of the painting.
Catherine Gargan
Catherine Gargan
Fales and Tamiment
To be honest I hate Bobst. It's dark and dreary and I can never find the book I am looking for. When we visited both Fales and Tamiment I got to see a less daunting side of Bobst. My favorite thing by far was looking through The Masses Magazines. I loved the art combined with the funky articles. The adds were hilarious. I remember one in particular that listed 12 reasons why dogs are better than men. I loved that they were a conglomeration of all this random stuff which is so Greenwich Village. Once finals are over I want to go back and go through more of The Masses.
Catherine Gargan
Catherine Gargan
Final Notes
I think there's a lot to be said about our class (and even more about the park in general.)
I'm sure some of you will leave today and never bother to read this again. We'll see what unfolds.
But I think it seems relevant to take the time and try to bring the park into the context of today and the future, sans the whole renovation thing. It seems when discussing the park today it's inevitably tied to the "what's happening to it" (i.e. NYU and the renovation.) But I'd rather talk about the "what it is." After all this time, and all of these years what is the park, really? An open, public space for residents and tourists alike?
...Muse?
...Refuge?
...Nuisance?
...Garden?
...Path between Points A and B?
I don't know anymore than you do. But I was walking past last week and it was one of those nice, warm, sunny days. Something like today. And I had a shitstorm of mess welling up inside me and leaking out my pores: work, finals, moving all my furniture to my new place, more finals, trying to back into my swimsuit body, finals, stupid people who don't know why it's called a "sidewalk" NOT a "sidestand", and finals. But when I walked by I decided to sit, sip on my ice coffee and take a few minutes before my next class.
And everything melted away, and there was a hiss as I sat down like all of the pressure was being released from my over-inflated mind. And I sat longer than I should have because I forgot to think about time and I forgot to think about things I knew I should have been thinking about. And the park did all this.
So maybe that's what it is for me. But that's all I really know.
I'm sure some of you will leave today and never bother to read this again. We'll see what unfolds.
But I think it seems relevant to take the time and try to bring the park into the context of today and the future, sans the whole renovation thing. It seems when discussing the park today it's inevitably tied to the "what's happening to it" (i.e. NYU and the renovation.) But I'd rather talk about the "what it is." After all this time, and all of these years what is the park, really? An open, public space for residents and tourists alike?
...Muse?
...Refuge?
...Nuisance?
...Garden?
...Path between Points A and B?
I don't know anymore than you do. But I was walking past last week and it was one of those nice, warm, sunny days. Something like today. And I had a shitstorm of mess welling up inside me and leaking out my pores: work, finals, moving all my furniture to my new place, more finals, trying to back into my swimsuit body, finals, stupid people who don't know why it's called a "sidewalk" NOT a "sidestand", and finals. But when I walked by I decided to sit, sip on my ice coffee and take a few minutes before my next class.
And everything melted away, and there was a hiss as I sat down like all of the pressure was being released from my over-inflated mind. And I sat longer than I should have because I forgot to think about time and I forgot to think about things I knew I should have been thinking about. And the park did all this.
So maybe that's what it is for me. But that's all I really know.
Final Project
My project was a short story dealing with the "anti-gentrification" of the park that happened at the turn of the century (roughly around the time James was writing.)
Sorry that I didn't get to present it. Not that you really care... but I'll put it in our "literary magazine" anyway for those of you who might.
Had a blast, kids.
Sorry that I didn't get to present it. Not that you really care... but I'll put it in our "literary magazine" anyway for those of you who might.
Had a blast, kids.
Judson
Haha, okay this is funny.
I hated this woman. I hated her so much I can't even remember her name. Preservation is one thing, and I'm all for it, but this lady couldn't convince a flower to spread pollen in the spring time. I felt the whole time she was talking that she was sprouting leftist politics for the sake of sprouting leftist politics.
"Oh yes, I'm a New Yorker and I work in this area so I should be angry, blah blah blah."
Shut up.
I thought it was absolutely hilarious when Rebecca starting arguing with her about the drugs and the "drug pushers" in WSP. Granted, I didn't really agree with either of their arguments, but I liked watching this women get worked up. Plus, I've never seen a person so adamently pro-drugs. I mean, we were in a church... right?
That's all I have to say. Some people needs to chillz.
I hated this woman. I hated her so much I can't even remember her name. Preservation is one thing, and I'm all for it, but this lady couldn't convince a flower to spread pollen in the spring time. I felt the whole time she was talking that she was sprouting leftist politics for the sake of sprouting leftist politics.
"Oh yes, I'm a New Yorker and I work in this area so I should be angry, blah blah blah."
Shut up.
I thought it was absolutely hilarious when Rebecca starting arguing with her about the drugs and the "drug pushers" in WSP. Granted, I didn't really agree with either of their arguments, but I liked watching this women get worked up. Plus, I've never seen a person so adamently pro-drugs. I mean, we were in a church... right?
That's all I have to say. Some people needs to chillz.
Rebecca Ferguson
Her visit just made me realize how conflicted I am about the park renovation.
In truth, I've always thought that the excuses to rally against it by those opposed were a little ridiculous, "oh the trees are going to get cut down," "oh, my dog won't have a place to pee." Whatever. But that does not mean I am necessarily pro-renovation. And when Ms. Ferguson came to speak to us I realized that all of the excuses for the "anti" people were borne of propoganda. The trees will stay. Your dogs can still pee. Your kids can still be brats on the swing sets.
I think it has more to do with convenience, which is why I'm a little upset about the renovation as well. It's a hassle to see this ugly construction site where there once was beauty, and now your favorite spot to sit is completely destroyed and will stay that way for another two years (or seven. Things in New York never finish on time... consider the Cortlandt stop on the R Train. I saw a sign: "Re-opening Feb. 2006. That was over two years ago, and still nothing.)
The truth is, once the renovation is completed and everyone sees how nice it is people will shut up. It has nothing to do with politics, it's everything to do with "I don't have the patience, I want my park now!" Don't get me wrong, I'm just as impatient. But this whole "leftist political ideology?" Puh-leese, folks. Chill out.
In truth, I've always thought that the excuses to rally against it by those opposed were a little ridiculous, "oh the trees are going to get cut down," "oh, my dog won't have a place to pee." Whatever. But that does not mean I am necessarily pro-renovation. And when Ms. Ferguson came to speak to us I realized that all of the excuses for the "anti" people were borne of propoganda. The trees will stay. Your dogs can still pee. Your kids can still be brats on the swing sets.
I think it has more to do with convenience, which is why I'm a little upset about the renovation as well. It's a hassle to see this ugly construction site where there once was beauty, and now your favorite spot to sit is completely destroyed and will stay that way for another two years (or seven. Things in New York never finish on time... consider the Cortlandt stop on the R Train. I saw a sign: "Re-opening Feb. 2006. That was over two years ago, and still nothing.)
The truth is, once the renovation is completed and everyone sees how nice it is people will shut up. It has nothing to do with politics, it's everything to do with "I don't have the patience, I want my park now!" Don't get me wrong, I'm just as impatient. But this whole "leftist political ideology?" Puh-leese, folks. Chill out.
Hopper
Chris Cartmill came and spoke to our class. I liked him, thought he was enthusiastic. So I signed up for his fall class.
I think he had a point about Hopper, but is Hopper really the first to attempt to capture a scene? It seems to me that the whole of art, at least the whole of contemporary art, exists in "peering through windows." I think any great work of art can be interpreted in different ways by different viewers.
Don't get me wrong. I like Edward Hopper very much, and I like his subject matter. But I think taking a piece of art--a song, a poem, a painting, a short story--and making it into a single moment has been an idea long before the time of Hopper. Consider the "Mona Lisa". What's the most asked question about the painting? What is she thinking? Why is she smiling? And a hundered different people will interpret it in just as many ways, "she's happy," "she's sad," etc. I like to think of all paintings as windows, some of them I want to look into and others I don't. But it stands to reason that art exists for this sole purpose, to invoke a separate and distinct feeling in each curious onlooker.
I think he had a point about Hopper, but is Hopper really the first to attempt to capture a scene? It seems to me that the whole of art, at least the whole of contemporary art, exists in "peering through windows." I think any great work of art can be interpreted in different ways by different viewers.
Don't get me wrong. I like Edward Hopper very much, and I like his subject matter. But I think taking a piece of art--a song, a poem, a painting, a short story--and making it into a single moment has been an idea long before the time of Hopper. Consider the "Mona Lisa". What's the most asked question about the painting? What is she thinking? Why is she smiling? And a hundered different people will interpret it in just as many ways, "she's happy," "she's sad," etc. I like to think of all paintings as windows, some of them I want to look into and others I don't. But it stands to reason that art exists for this sole purpose, to invoke a separate and distinct feeling in each curious onlooker.
Sunday, May 4, 2008
Fales and Tamiment
Now, I'll be honest, I am absolutely intimidated by the Bobst Library... kind of. I don't spend much time in there because, well, I have better things to do (probably not true). Well, if sleeping is considered a better thing to do than I'll take it. However(!!!!!!), my opinion was changed forever when we went to Fales. First of all the librarian (don't know his name) was hilarious. The collection of stuff he put out on the table to show us was just incredible. Lots of first press books in their original jackets and some awesome zines. Actually, I think the zines were the best part. I really like the idea of being interested in punk culture, so I might eventually become interested in punk culture. I got like 25% interested in punk culture at some point but then kind of stopped. However, I love old things in good condition so I may just have to go back there. My friend who goes to New School told me she just goes in there sometimes and looks around. Might as well, right? I wish I could have used the collection for my research. I will definitely have to go back. I have a feeling my interest in archiving is going to increase soon, inexplicably. And then I'll be a librarian, and I won't know how it happened.
Tamiment is the older, settled down, retired, activist brother of Fales. Tamiment had lots of cool documents and the presentation was great. I had been doing some research for my project and discovered that Tamiment held the National Organization for Women - New York City Chapter Collection. I became very excited to look through the files. Unfortunately two of the collections were unprocessed. That was really unfortunate. All they need are more people to help organize and catalog items. I took out a few boxes and looked through them and saw that there was plenty of correspondence between other members and my Great Aunt Midge. Also, I realized that I have a lot of the papers I found, in my house, in her files. The one thing I would really like to check out at some point is the NOW-NYC photography collection, which is in someone else's possession off site. I don't know about anyone else but I want to look through everything. There is so much history contained in Bobst and I doubt all of it has been seen. I just took out a book from the library that hadn't been taken out since 2001! There is so much out there. It's overwhelming. What? Is it too lofty a goal to want to read every book in Bobst? Anyway, Fales and Tamiment are alright in my book.
Tamiment is the older, settled down, retired, activist brother of Fales. Tamiment had lots of cool documents and the presentation was great. I had been doing some research for my project and discovered that Tamiment held the National Organization for Women - New York City Chapter Collection. I became very excited to look through the files. Unfortunately two of the collections were unprocessed. That was really unfortunate. All they need are more people to help organize and catalog items. I took out a few boxes and looked through them and saw that there was plenty of correspondence between other members and my Great Aunt Midge. Also, I realized that I have a lot of the papers I found, in my house, in her files. The one thing I would really like to check out at some point is the NOW-NYC photography collection, which is in someone else's possession off site. I don't know about anyone else but I want to look through everything. There is so much history contained in Bobst and I doubt all of it has been seen. I just took out a book from the library that hadn't been taken out since 2001! There is so much out there. It's overwhelming. What? Is it too lofty a goal to want to read every book in Bobst? Anyway, Fales and Tamiment are alright in my book.
Rebecca Furgeson
I really haven't been following anything about the renovations of Washington Square Park. My stance has merely included crying inside that I can't walk through the park. However, I've noticed that this year, since I don't live by campus, I don't really have the chance to walk through it as much anymore. In any case, it sucks. It really does.
I've said it before but it's so funny that people are upset about there not being graduation in Washington Square Park a place that is entirely every day of the year. I mean, I totally agree that I wouldn't want to graduate in Yankee Stadium, and I think that proves the power of the park. I'm not crazy, I swear but there is a metaphorical energy in Washington Square Park. Oh yeah. Metaphors. So Rebecca Ferguson seemed to shoot down any and all rumors that had been circulating. I find it hilarious how many rumors had been started. In my opinion, the renovated park will be clean and great and the whole argument will blow over and everything will be fine. A gentrified park is better than no park at all. And hasn't the park been in a gentrified state anyway? Maybe? In more recent years? I'm all for activism but I just want a park back. Any park.
Where is the Dosa Man? Where is Hypnotic Brass Ensemble?! Somehow I miss them when they play in the park. They're great. No one is going to read this, but everyone should check them out. I'm sure you've seen them around. Sons of Phil Cohran, who was Sun Ra's trumpet player for a while. Oh yeah. Sun Ra.
I've said it before but it's so funny that people are upset about there not being graduation in Washington Square Park a place that is entirely every day of the year. I mean, I totally agree that I wouldn't want to graduate in Yankee Stadium, and I think that proves the power of the park. I'm not crazy, I swear but there is a metaphorical energy in Washington Square Park. Oh yeah. Metaphors. So Rebecca Ferguson seemed to shoot down any and all rumors that had been circulating. I find it hilarious how many rumors had been started. In my opinion, the renovated park will be clean and great and the whole argument will blow over and everything will be fine. A gentrified park is better than no park at all. And hasn't the park been in a gentrified state anyway? Maybe? In more recent years? I'm all for activism but I just want a park back. Any park.
Where is the Dosa Man? Where is Hypnotic Brass Ensemble?! Somehow I miss them when they play in the park. They're great. No one is going to read this, but everyone should check them out. I'm sure you've seen them around. Sons of Phil Cohran, who was Sun Ra's trumpet player for a while. Oh yeah. Sun Ra.
Hopper
My dad loves Hopper, and he got me to love Hopper. In my grandparents old house my dad had given them a framed Hopper poster and it was great. I love art and try not to do too much analysis when viewing it, however, Hopper's work almost asks for it. I say almost because I'm not completely sure he was asking for it. Anyway, the presentation of Christopher Cartmill and Kristen was fairly entertaining. I really, really, really enjoy the idea of exploring the possible before-and-after of a painting, or even a photo for that matter. Hopper really explores that by capturing the seemingly saddest people in these moments where its totally unclear what they're doing. Seeing the work of Hopper makes me love Greenwich Village even more. The energy of the artists that inhabited this space before us is constant and ceaseless. I find it very difficult to not be inspired in some way by walking through Washington Square Park.
For my Washington Square "window" assignment, I walked to my friend's apartment in the East Village, keeping my eye out for any activity in any apartments. Somehow I came across a woman in her first floor kitchen, preparing dinner. The moment was perfect; a woman with a window view of the street, making food in her brownstone. In seeing this, I attempted to create a short work of fiction, just describing a possible scene. I just love living here. I’m going to be very sad when I go home for the summer, even though I will be about forty miles away. I won’t be able to come in very often. These Hopper moments don’t seem to happen as nicely as they do in New York City. People watching isn’t as interesting anywhere else.
For my Washington Square "window" assignment, I walked to my friend's apartment in the East Village, keeping my eye out for any activity in any apartments. Somehow I came across a woman in her first floor kitchen, preparing dinner. The moment was perfect; a woman with a window view of the street, making food in her brownstone. In seeing this, I attempted to create a short work of fiction, just describing a possible scene. I just love living here. I’m going to be very sad when I go home for the summer, even though I will be about forty miles away. I won’t be able to come in very often. These Hopper moments don’t seem to happen as nicely as they do in New York City. People watching isn’t as interesting anywhere else.
Awkward Encounters of the Close Kind
I like vegetables. Recently, I have become increasingly more intrigued by the thought of a vegetarian diet. I love food and have been trying to locate the “Dosa Man” of Washington Square Park who supposedly serves up some delicious vegetarian Middle Eastern food. My going-out-of-the-way-to-find-this-guy got me to think about how much less I’ve spent time in the park as compared to last year. I live at Water Street now as opposed to Rubin Hall last year. Last week, since class was cancelled, I sat on a bench and read. This particular day was a beautiful one; warm, sunny and summery. During this past winter, and because of the ugly scene the renovations have made, I very rarely walked through the park. During the winter there is no music and not much going on. The sounds of the park are usually what lure me in. I can’t help but smile when I hear jazz or ragtime quartets. I sat far away from the music to read but I never really escaped it. I read for a while and periodically looked up to people-watch. The tourists sitting on the bench next to me tried to figure out what subway to take uptown. The mother was telling her kids that she saw an upright bass at the other end of the park, where the music was coming from. Out of my periphery I saw a girl sit down diagonally from me. She looked familiar. I looked again and then made a startling and disappointing realization. This girl is the only person I’ve ever met that hasn’t remembered meeting me, after having been introduced on three separate occasions in one month’s time. The last two times I even acknowledged that we had met before. Shit, we made eye contact. Is it slightly possible that she remembers me? Absolutely not. I saved myself the embarrassment. I laughed to myself at how absurd the situation was. I kept reading and walked away.
Window Narrative
New York, though constantly churning and straining its eyes, staring down the sun, and following that by staring down the moon, until the last call shouts begin and end, and the heavy eyelids and tired eyes draw together like flesh tone magnets, encouraging rest, is full of people who appreciate privacy. For such an excitingly outgoing crowd (a complete generalization), there are wrought-iron gates, blinds, curtains and locks abound: the tenement lifestyle. Once inside, the inhabitant locks up, and he or she returns to his or her own slice of the city; the walls deadening the outside noise and reintroducing the comforting tone of home. Outside, people pass brownstones such as these and drool: like me. We wonder how the hell we could be able to live in such a place. And then we try to block out the thoughts of living in suburbia at a much cheaper rate. Here I was, stopped and staring.
There she was. I passed by on the opposite side of the street and was immediately drawn to the bizarre circumstance of a woman, her apartment on the first floor, in her kitchen, with a window facing 9th Street. She was exposed. Her figure was framed in the window like a panorama. The night was fresh. She had left work two hours prior and stopped at Gristedes on her way home to purchase groceries: a bag of apples, a bunch of celery, two pomegranates (she doesn’t understand what the point of buying pre-packaged seeds is), seven grapefruits (one, to split with her husband, for breakfast every morning), a bag of baby carrots, beets, three white onions, dill, cilantro, mixed mesculin greens and three packages of tofu. She decided to experiment with a vegetarian diet to boost her immune system and energy level ever since she recovered from a nasty bout with mononucleosis. In her neighborhood there were enough vegetarian and vegan eateries to provide her inspiration for recipes. She loves experimenting in the kitchen. Her husband appreciated the concept of vegetarianism but couldn’t resist eating chicken with any might. By the time she walked in the front door, the clock on the stove read 8:16. She really wanted to make borscht using the recipe her mother’s Georgian caretaker gave to her, but she only really had time to prepare all the vegetables. The juice from the beets would stain her fingertips and give them a floral hue, unable to be scrubbed off with routine hand-washing methods. She pushed the borscht-thought to the back of her brain and decided on making a tofu stir-fry for dinner, with brown rice. When they had originally looked at the apartment, she knew she had to live there because the main window in the kitchen was facing the street. She loves people watching because it lets her tap, ever so gently, into the thumping metropolitan heartbeat, while she’s indoors. Dinner’s done. Her husband walks in the door and gives her a kiss. They eat. They laugh.
There she was. I passed by on the opposite side of the street and was immediately drawn to the bizarre circumstance of a woman, her apartment on the first floor, in her kitchen, with a window facing 9th Street. She was exposed. Her figure was framed in the window like a panorama. The night was fresh. She had left work two hours prior and stopped at Gristedes on her way home to purchase groceries: a bag of apples, a bunch of celery, two pomegranates (she doesn’t understand what the point of buying pre-packaged seeds is), seven grapefruits (one, to split with her husband, for breakfast every morning), a bag of baby carrots, beets, three white onions, dill, cilantro, mixed mesculin greens and three packages of tofu. She decided to experiment with a vegetarian diet to boost her immune system and energy level ever since she recovered from a nasty bout with mononucleosis. In her neighborhood there were enough vegetarian and vegan eateries to provide her inspiration for recipes. She loves experimenting in the kitchen. Her husband appreciated the concept of vegetarianism but couldn’t resist eating chicken with any might. By the time she walked in the front door, the clock on the stove read 8:16. She really wanted to make borscht using the recipe her mother’s Georgian caretaker gave to her, but she only really had time to prepare all the vegetables. The juice from the beets would stain her fingertips and give them a floral hue, unable to be scrubbed off with routine hand-washing methods. She pushed the borscht-thought to the back of her brain and decided on making a tofu stir-fry for dinner, with brown rice. When they had originally looked at the apartment, she knew she had to live there because the main window in the kitchen was facing the street. She loves people watching because it lets her tap, ever so gently, into the thumping metropolitan heartbeat, while she’s indoors. Dinner’s done. Her husband walks in the door and gives her a kiss. They eat. They laugh.
Creative Expression and Cultural Dynamics in Washington Square Park
Today my thoughts and feelings about Washington Square Park are entirely different than they were a mere three and a half months ago. I have loved, laughed, cried, painted, written, photographed and created in the park. I have observed couples breaking up, making up, grandmothers pondering, resting, students drawing, children running and friends enjoying each others company. Based on my experiences, Washington Square Park represents a place where thoughts and emotions can fly high, low and anywhere in between. These sometimes conflicting feelings seem to foster dynamic and novel forms of expression that seem to emanate from a somewhat mysterious place in my imagination. Whether skimming through a book about Abstract Expressionism that I picked up from a sidewalk vendor or sketching an elderly woman’s impeccably wrapped turban; the visual aspects of the park represent visceral and vivid images of places and people. Exploring the Victorian material culture history associated with Washington Square Park has advanced my knowledge and tuned my perception of how the physical landscape of the park has evolved over time. Furthermore, spending time reviewing limited editions of Victorian style manuals in the Fales Special Collections reading room has helped me to gain insight into Victorian society and the material culture of the mid 19th century. Mr. Mike Kelly of the Fales Special Collection Department facilitated a rare opportunity to examine various catalogues of Victorian fashion, most popular among them: Le Bon Ton which was the preeminent guide to Victorian style in 19th century New York City. Lastly, I can say that my personal experiences in Washington Square Park and my in depth research for my final project have exposed me to myriad sources to gain both academic and creative inspiration for my life passions.
Exploring the Tamiment Collections: The American Socialist Society and Washington Square Park Workers Union
Visiting the Tamiment Special Collections Library was of particular interest to me because my grandmother was a member of the Ladies Garment Workers Union in New York City. My grandmother Rosa and grandfather Rene settled on 137th Street in Harlem, New York City in 1957. Rosa was an International Ladies Garment Workers Union seamstress and Rene was a short order cook. My grandmother’s beautiful and specialized seamstress work focused on delicate laces, fine silk and satin crochets. Her material culture objects stand as rich historical visuals that document her creative cultural production during the arduous assimilation process in New York. Moreover, the library visit reminded me of my grandmother’s history while allowing the opportunity to research the Union she was member of and the economic networks of support that would have been influential in her professional development and in her struggle to survive and work in New York City. Furthermore, an exploration of the history of the Tamiment Library proved to be a fascinating exercise. The Tamiment Library was originally founded in 1906 as part of the Rand School for Social Science which was a pioneering workers education school sponsored by the American Socialist Society. In 1917 the school moved to 7 East 15th Street near Union Square where it remained for almost fifty-five years. The Rand School was modeled after the Socialist People's Houses in Europe and it soon became a cultural and educational center for the Left in New York. Tamiment’s resources were of particular interest for their in depth social and economic perspectives. Additionally, much of the library’s material culture points to social, economic and class related mores and attitudes in and around Washington Square Park beginning from the late 18th century. For example, the telephone, address and profession based directories can evoke a feeling for the rich and somewhat tangible mid 19th century Washington Square Park experience. Finally, the Tamiment collection offers useful information regarding the Ladies Garment Workers Union, which I was most interested in, as well as garment production ethics and modes of production in New York City.
Rebecca Ferguson Explores Washington Square Park Administration and Construction Dynamics
Today Rebecca Ferguson visited our class to explore the complex and sensitive relationship between the New York City governmental administrative boards and The Parks and Recreation Department. Ferguson explained that the community’s strong feelings against major construction and renovation of Washington Square Park stem from misunderstandings related to the parks renovation plans and blue prints. Moreover, I was very interested to hear about the reasons why the construction is so actively supported by the New York City public board. It is becoming apparent that Washington Square Park is increasingly looked upon as a commodity whose purpose is primarily to cater to the middle and upper class members of New York rather than supporting cross cultural socio-economic diversity. Washington Square Park’s history is steeped in novel modes of creative expression and the Park itself has fostered the artistic processes of some of the most creative, out of the box thinkers in New York. It is the fear that this zone of organic, creative association and expression is being threatened, encroached upon or even paved over, that has caused concern and raised the voices of dissent. In view of this controversy, I thought that it was particularly interesting to review and analyze our course reading: “The Reconstruction of the Washington Square Arch and Adjacent Site Work Washington Square Park, Borough of Manhattan” which highlighted insights that speak about the historical fieldwork in Washington Square Park. Of particular interest was the mention and detailing of a Potter’s Field that was once located on the site. The report explained that the construction of the arch in 1890 uncovered evidence of human burials that were found about 10 feet below the ground surface. The burials were undoubtedly from a Potter’s Field once located on the site which was associated with a stratum of blue clay documented in pre-construction soil borings. Washington Square Park’s unique history dating back to the early 18th century is important to be aware of when analyzing the positive and negative affects of the construction. Finally, the impact on the historical material culture and on the modern social dynamics in and around Washington Square Park should be a critical component of any construction decisions being made.
Judson Memorial Church & The Politics of The Park Construction
Examining Community Space and Analyzing the Effects of Construction on Washington Square Park
Visiting the Judson Memorial Church was an inspiring and insightful experience that illuminated the significance of community minded religious institutions in New York City. Our guest speakers from Judson Memorial Church were instructive about how the Judson Memorial Church community has actively sought to advance discussion about the social and environmental influences of construction in Washington Square Park and the greater Greenwich Village community. Judson memorial Church was founded by Edward Judson who was a distinguished preacher in the Churches’ earliest days. Supported by the backing of John D. Rockefeller and other prominent Baptists, Judson was able to choose Washington Square Park as the central location of the Church which was originally intended to serve the greater Italian American community. Our guest speakers at Judson explained that the Churches’ current mission is self described as being devoted to social outreach and to establish programs that are designed to help those in need. Research on Judson Memorial Church revealed that it’s mission to educate the general public about regional and global social issues that affect the greater Greenwhich Village community was important and necessary. For example, in the 1980’s The Judson Memorial Church sponsored various political theatre performances by renowned social activists like the Vermont-based Bread and Puppet Theatre Group. These performances included an Insurrection Opera and Oratorio that were performed in February and March of 1984. In this performance, the Bread and Puppet Theatre, under the direction of founder, Peter Schumann, used opera as a vehicle by which the company’s signature oversized puppets conveyed an anti-nuclear message. The Judson Memorial Church is located on the south side of Washington Square. The church structure was designed by the prominent architect Stanford White while its stained glass is credited to master glass designer and maker John La Farge. Our guides at the Judson Memorial Church raised important questions about the political motivations and social ramifications of the ongoing construction in Washington Square Park. The discussion focused on the churches’ role as an equal opportunity, communal gathering space and the perception that this role is being threatened by the increasing gentrification and redlining of the park due to the construction. My hope is that, as a result of the awareness that the Church is promoting, the construction will somehow physically cause a beneficial change without tainting the equality and diversity of the Washington Square Community.
Visiting the Judson Memorial Church was an inspiring and insightful experience that illuminated the significance of community minded religious institutions in New York City. Our guest speakers from Judson Memorial Church were instructive about how the Judson Memorial Church community has actively sought to advance discussion about the social and environmental influences of construction in Washington Square Park and the greater Greenwich Village community. Judson memorial Church was founded by Edward Judson who was a distinguished preacher in the Churches’ earliest days. Supported by the backing of John D. Rockefeller and other prominent Baptists, Judson was able to choose Washington Square Park as the central location of the Church which was originally intended to serve the greater Italian American community. Our guest speakers at Judson explained that the Churches’ current mission is self described as being devoted to social outreach and to establish programs that are designed to help those in need. Research on Judson Memorial Church revealed that it’s mission to educate the general public about regional and global social issues that affect the greater Greenwhich Village community was important and necessary. For example, in the 1980’s The Judson Memorial Church sponsored various political theatre performances by renowned social activists like the Vermont-based Bread and Puppet Theatre Group. These performances included an Insurrection Opera and Oratorio that were performed in February and March of 1984. In this performance, the Bread and Puppet Theatre, under the direction of founder, Peter Schumann, used opera as a vehicle by which the company’s signature oversized puppets conveyed an anti-nuclear message. The Judson Memorial Church is located on the south side of Washington Square. The church structure was designed by the prominent architect Stanford White while its stained glass is credited to master glass designer and maker John La Farge. Our guides at the Judson Memorial Church raised important questions about the political motivations and social ramifications of the ongoing construction in Washington Square Park. The discussion focused on the churches’ role as an equal opportunity, communal gathering space and the perception that this role is being threatened by the increasing gentrification and redlining of the park due to the construction. My hope is that, as a result of the awareness that the Church is promoting, the construction will somehow physically cause a beneficial change without tainting the equality and diversity of the Washington Square Community.
Exploring Edward Hopper’s Imaginary Washington Square
Examining Edward Hopper’s Aesthetic Inclinations and his Imaginary Washington Square
Christopher Cartmill’s in class presentation focusing on Edward Hopper’s imaginary Washington Square Park was fascinating and extremely beneficial in helping me imagine ways to enhance my final project. For my project I am planning to design a dramatic 19th century dress (in silhouette) that incorporates an abstract expressionist inspired print. Through brief dramatic narratives professor Cartmill expressed the engaging technique of creating imaginary worlds that infuse historical ideas and that, in turn, can foster novel modes of creative expression. It was also wonderful to learn about Edward Hopper’s life as an artist and to appreciate his creative influences in and around New Washington Square. Professor Cartmill explained that Hopper’s cinematic, wide compositions and dramatic use of light and dark shadows marked his distinct place in art history as a prominent dramatic scene painter. One of the most well known of Hopper’s paintings is called Nighthawks (1942), which shows customers sitting at the counter of an all-night diner. The diner’s harsh electric lights set it apart from the dark night outside and the scene combines a dramatic and mysterious mood with nuanced emotions conveyed by the seated diners. Professor Cartmill used Hopper’s work to explore the value of varied interpretation while identifying the expressive creative freedom that resulted in the imaginary visual narratives in his paintings. Finally, the exploration of the imaginary symbolism in Hoppers paintings added to the insight and inspiration I used to create the material world of Madame Vivionette for my “Windows on Washington Square” assignment.
Christopher Cartmill’s in class presentation focusing on Edward Hopper’s imaginary Washington Square Park was fascinating and extremely beneficial in helping me imagine ways to enhance my final project. For my project I am planning to design a dramatic 19th century dress (in silhouette) that incorporates an abstract expressionist inspired print. Through brief dramatic narratives professor Cartmill expressed the engaging technique of creating imaginary worlds that infuse historical ideas and that, in turn, can foster novel modes of creative expression. It was also wonderful to learn about Edward Hopper’s life as an artist and to appreciate his creative influences in and around New Washington Square. Professor Cartmill explained that Hopper’s cinematic, wide compositions and dramatic use of light and dark shadows marked his distinct place in art history as a prominent dramatic scene painter. One of the most well known of Hopper’s paintings is called Nighthawks (1942), which shows customers sitting at the counter of an all-night diner. The diner’s harsh electric lights set it apart from the dark night outside and the scene combines a dramatic and mysterious mood with nuanced emotions conveyed by the seated diners. Professor Cartmill used Hopper’s work to explore the value of varied interpretation while identifying the expressive creative freedom that resulted in the imaginary visual narratives in his paintings. Finally, the exploration of the imaginary symbolism in Hoppers paintings added to the insight and inspiration I used to create the material world of Madame Vivionette for my “Windows on Washington Square” assignment.
Friday, May 2, 2008
Hopper
I must admit that I new very little about Edward Hopper before this class. Yes, I had been to exhibits and am familiar with more of his works, but mostly as an amateur observer. Learning more about Hopper was fascinating. I was particularly intrigued bbyt Christopher Cartmill's presentation of the "moment after" concept. It is natural for one to assumer that the a painting or photograph is meant to make a statement about the specific moment captured. However, it become far more interesting when one puts that moment in a broader context and ponders where this moment falls in. What happened before? What will happen after? When we make photo albums capturing the memories of our past, we remember the setting of the photograph. If there's a picture of a friend holding you over a fountain, you know that the moment after involves your falling in. Why should art not try to emulate that as well?
I do have a little trouble when it comes to speculating about what the characters in a given piece are thinking. I value the intent of the artist highly, and I don't believe that there's as much room for interpretation as far as the characters are concerned. If Hopper tells us what the characters are talking about, that is one thing, but to invent for sport seems disrespectful.
I do have a little trouble when it comes to speculating about what the characters in a given piece are thinking. I value the intent of the artist highly, and I don't believe that there's as much room for interpretation as far as the characters are concerned. If Hopper tells us what the characters are talking about, that is one thing, but to invent for sport seems disrespectful.
Judson
Judson Memorial Church is a small haven right off Washington Square Park that had much to say about the direction in which the Park, and the entire city itself, is heading. Open to all, regardless of color, creed, or social standing, Judson Memorial Church is quite wary of the changes occurring in the village. We are returning to a city of the bourgeoisie. The parks will be cleaner and the outfits will be ritzier and the violence and crime will either be eliminated or artfully covered up. So what happens to the people who are there now? What happens to the poor and underprivileged patrons of Judson Memorial Church who can't keep up with our changing times?
The speakers at Judson were not at all reserved about their views. At first they seemed harsh and curt in their judgments and lash outs, but I came to realize that their passionate pleas to acknowledge what is happening to our city were not at all unfounded. Yes, they attacked NYU, but their statements hurt only because they were true. We all know that gentrification is plaguing both the university and the square. We can't deny it. The concerns are understandable. Do any of us want to see a park where the musicians and artists can no longer roam because they have all moved out to Brooklyn?
Maybe we've been brainwashed by eloquent people such as Rebecca Furgeson. Maybe we need to think about the consequences of the renovations for ourselves and realize that change always implies that things will never be the same. The question is, how much are we willing to compromise, and for what end?
The speakers at Judson were not at all reserved about their views. At first they seemed harsh and curt in their judgments and lash outs, but I came to realize that their passionate pleas to acknowledge what is happening to our city were not at all unfounded. Yes, they attacked NYU, but their statements hurt only because they were true. We all know that gentrification is plaguing both the university and the square. We can't deny it. The concerns are understandable. Do any of us want to see a park where the musicians and artists can no longer roam because they have all moved out to Brooklyn?
Maybe we've been brainwashed by eloquent people such as Rebecca Furgeson. Maybe we need to think about the consequences of the renovations for ourselves and realize that change always implies that things will never be the same. The question is, how much are we willing to compromise, and for what end?
On Washington Square
On Washington Square
An autumn introspection
the invasion’s self elected
different climate
not a different Gd
Close your eyes and kiss away
the guilt of your assimilating
we are not the same
because I taste New York in your America
and Jerusalem in your Diaspora
There are seven poles
in this universe of earth
and when things tip
they tip left
and liberal
and gender becomes
color becomes
words on strike
like garlic pellets flung at
Galapagos dreamlands
tainting truffles
and it’s not tint
but texture
And you tin foil onwards
splintered between
forest planks and chessboards
and splashes of
tall peppermint black and white mocha
taffeta candy and pigeons
on Trafalgar’s wrong Square park
and deal out kisses on palms
the chocolate kind
Smells of Henry James and trite
and hopscotch on sand
freedom to dream of
not this color polish on your
handfuls of
insomnia
You’re implied in all
my sentences that
flirt with endings
slanting truths and
wishing we were
goodness
once
Stop civilizing women
between legs
the innovation’s fleeting and
there’s mud and
fountains and
park renovations and
balloons to contend with
stoned out of mind,
an arch tilts west to fourth
and Jeremiah stops
bullfrogging Garibaldi
ode to Joyce ensues in
not Dublin
not Green
not raining cats
and cradles
the little boy in red tennis shoes taps me
and asks to be hugged
Rebecca Furgeson
The parks of New York City are a mystery even to those who frequent them. Somehow, the leaves get raked and the flowers get planted and the trees get pruned. We never bear witness to the work put into the parks. Who does it all?
Rebecca Furgeson came in and spoke about a completely new aspect to park involvement. As a director of the park, she is present in the park every day, practically living in a little office housed in what I had thought was a shed for shovel storage. She discussed all the work put into maintaining the park, and I was completely baffled by the number of people involved in New York City's park system.
Rebecca Ferguson answered all our questions about the park renovations and, for the first time, I found myself both informed and, inherently, at ease with the nature of the renovations. She spoke with matter of fact honesty about the park's needs and the projected goals of the project. It was refreshing to finally receive concrete answers and not simply listen to people speculate. It makes complete sense to address the "patchwork" that the park has become, and even though we may rebel at the moment, all people will appreciate the new aesthetically pleasing park. The new structure for the fountain made much more sense after Rebecca explained the health hazards of having standing water in the park. I'm also excited to see all the new trees! Of course it is disconcerting for now to have to walk around the park to get to certain destinations and the lack of seating on a beautiful, warm day doesn't please anyone, but if the park will be beautiful in a matter of two years, I think I'll bear with it.
Rebecca Furgeson came in and spoke about a completely new aspect to park involvement. As a director of the park, she is present in the park every day, practically living in a little office housed in what I had thought was a shed for shovel storage. She discussed all the work put into maintaining the park, and I was completely baffled by the number of people involved in New York City's park system.
Rebecca Ferguson answered all our questions about the park renovations and, for the first time, I found myself both informed and, inherently, at ease with the nature of the renovations. She spoke with matter of fact honesty about the park's needs and the projected goals of the project. It was refreshing to finally receive concrete answers and not simply listen to people speculate. It makes complete sense to address the "patchwork" that the park has become, and even though we may rebel at the moment, all people will appreciate the new aesthetically pleasing park. The new structure for the fountain made much more sense after Rebecca explained the health hazards of having standing water in the park. I'm also excited to see all the new trees! Of course it is disconcerting for now to have to walk around the park to get to certain destinations and the lack of seating on a beautiful, warm day doesn't please anyone, but if the park will be beautiful in a matter of two years, I think I'll bear with it.
Peeking through a window
(scene: 2 men in a living room. One sitting on a couch with a laptop on his lap while the other man is standing next to him hovering over the computer screen.)
Brunette Man: My turn.
Blonde Man: Wait just a second.
Brunette Man: I don’t have all day.
Blonde Man: Wait your turn!
Brunette Man: You suck at this. How much money have you won?
Blonde Man: Not enough…
Brunette Man: Give it to me and watch the magic touch.
Blonde Man: Fine…
(A Few Minutes Pass…)
Blonde Man: What are you doing man?!
Brunette Man: What do you mean what am I doing?
Blonde Man: I can’t believe you didn’t go all in!!
Brunette Man: What are you talking about? Why would I have gone all in?
Blonde Man: You’re playing poker you moron! You had a pair…see?
Brunette Man: I don’t know what you are talking about! How delusional are you?
Blonde Man: You are unbelievable. I can’t believe what an idiot I have as a friend.
Ace, and Ace.
Brunette Man: You can do that?
Brunette Man: My turn.
Blonde Man: Wait just a second.
Brunette Man: I don’t have all day.
Blonde Man: Wait your turn!
Brunette Man: You suck at this. How much money have you won?
Blonde Man: Not enough…
Brunette Man: Give it to me and watch the magic touch.
Blonde Man: Fine…
(A Few Minutes Pass…)
Blonde Man: What are you doing man?!
Brunette Man: What do you mean what am I doing?
Blonde Man: I can’t believe you didn’t go all in!!
Brunette Man: What are you talking about? Why would I have gone all in?
Blonde Man: You’re playing poker you moron! You had a pair…see?
Brunette Man: I don’t know what you are talking about! How delusional are you?
Blonde Man: You are unbelievable. I can’t believe what an idiot I have as a friend.
Ace, and Ace.
Brunette Man: You can do that?
A Writer's Dream
Being born and raised in New York City, I am not especially proud to say that I have never visited the J.P Morgan Library. I believe New Yorkers take advantage of small gems such as these, all around the city. After our trip to this fascinating library and special collection of Mr. Morgan’s, I told myself that I would take advantage of this great city and explore more.
Entering through the double doors and into the room I was anticipating the upcoming presentation, but was immediately drawn to the striking beauty of the room we were going into. It was like being inside a book/movie such as Pride and Prejudice. I thought it was so interesting to hear that the double doors were made because the room used to be a music room. I also loved the fact that J.P. Morgan’s biggest lust was medieval and Renaissance scriptures; A personal favorite of mine.
To see illuminating manuscripts, and letters from Edgar Allen Poe and Sinclair Lewis was remarkable. I believe handwriting can show the character of a person and to see these letters firsthand gave me a taste inside the worlds of these famous authors. The language and style in these letters displayed a poetic one, and gave us a sample of how individuals spoke to one another back in the day. I wish I had more time to explore the whole museum, but I plan on making a trip back to J.P. Morgan to see the various pieces that were considered important enough to be a part of his grand collection.
Entering through the double doors and into the room I was anticipating the upcoming presentation, but was immediately drawn to the striking beauty of the room we were going into. It was like being inside a book/movie such as Pride and Prejudice. I thought it was so interesting to hear that the double doors were made because the room used to be a music room. I also loved the fact that J.P. Morgan’s biggest lust was medieval and Renaissance scriptures; A personal favorite of mine.
To see illuminating manuscripts, and letters from Edgar Allen Poe and Sinclair Lewis was remarkable. I believe handwriting can show the character of a person and to see these letters firsthand gave me a taste inside the worlds of these famous authors. The language and style in these letters displayed a poetic one, and gave us a sample of how individuals spoke to one another back in the day. I wish I had more time to explore the whole museum, but I plan on making a trip back to J.P. Morgan to see the various pieces that were considered important enough to be a part of his grand collection.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)