NYHS

I’ve participated in various extracurricular activities here at NYU and in high school. Nearly all of those activities have involved, in one way or another, the production of physical materials. I’ve helped make posters for concerts, brochures on what a group does, postcards, and flyers. Never once while producing these items did I think about people saving them, or the possibility that they would end up being considered historically significant. I doubt most people think of things like that when they create something. At the New York Historical Society, I was really struck by the NYU poster asking for funds for a new building. Someone, somewhere, decided that one day that might be important, and saved it. There are entire organizations now dedicated to saving the things that I daily toss into my trashcan. I admit, I’m a pack rat, but even I don’t save things like that. I wonder how important you have to consider yourself to save things like that. Did any of the famous Villagers of the early Washington Square days consider their work worthy enough to save? Journals, maps and public records I can understand saving, but what about flyers and posters and advertisements and pamphlets? I think you have to believe in the long-term validity of your work to save those things.

After the presentation of the various items, I wandered over to the collection of public directories. My mother’s parents both grew up on the Lower East Side, children of immigrants from Eastern Europe. The last time she visited, we walked around the Lower East Side trying to locate where her father grew up. I looked in the directory for her father, her grandfather, and her uncle’s names. I found some, but the records sometimes conflicted. I spent several minutes leafing through these records. It made me think about my connection to the New York Historical Society. My history is contained there, in a way. And perhaps, the history being made today of which I am a part will someday be housed there as well. I now live here, mere blocks from where my grandparents grew up 80-some years ago. I don’t think that my grandparents would have thought that someday their granddaughter would be looking for the addresses of where they grew up. History making can’t be a conscious project, but it relies on individuals to keep records and objects to be reviewed later on.

New York Historical Society & New York Public Library

I enjoyed hearing what the presenters at the New York Historical Society had to say and seeing what they had set out for us, even if much of it was not new to me. What I found the most alluring, though, was the extensive amount of information and ephemera that was available relating to individual persons. I was able to look up my great great uncle's phone number, address, and business listing and find some potential sources of information about his role as something of a real estate mogul in the developing city pre-WWI and onwards.

Of course, that was more of a personal thing than something related to Washington Square, but I'm excited to see what else the place has to offer in the way of historical documents and memorabilia. I'm very interested in the relationship between the university and the community over the years, and hope to be able to get a look at some of the contracts and negotiations that ensued between the two entities. It was also interesting to be able to see the mechanisms through which the city spread northward over the years.

All that said, while I did enjoy the visit to the New York Historical Society, I didn't have enough time there to find it truly inspiring or to dig up much on my own. Our Saturday visit to the New York Public Library to see the Kerouac exhibit, while overall less exciting to me (I'm not a big Kerouac fan) had significantly greater pathos and inspired with greater ease.

The Kerouac exhibit led me to think a little more in depth about something that had already been nagging at me a little bit, and that is the question of whether the Beat generation really filled a completely unique role in American history or whether theirs was a role that has actually been filled by some group or another in every generation over the last hundred years. There are obvious differences, but the beatniks certainly derived something from the flappers and gave a lot to the hippies, who in turn passed the torch along until it reached the grunge-generation and eventually trickled down into the post-grunge independent movement led by what we now think of as hipsters.

Kerouac's apparent obsession with dressing and living in the manner that people did just before his time, but editing out the parts of the old doctrine that were a little too "traditional" (mainly sexual containment) is something that has persisted for decades. Everything from the glasses and the paintings to the way he kept his notebook to the fact that he typed "On the Road" on a scroll, and almost as a stream-of-consciousness, no less, fits with the kind of counter-culture nostalgia for days-we've-never-seen that drives the modern day hipster movement. I'm increasingly fascinated by the similarities between the counter-culture movements over the years - I've read descriptions of beatniks as having been sucked into a faux-anti-mainstream tradition of writing exclusively in moleskines and doing their damndest to live in apartments with exposed brick. The similarities are almost a bit comical.

I don't see the Kerouac exhibit as something that will serve as particularly interesting to me in my final project or down the road, but it was a cool thing to see once. The New York Historical Society, I'm sure I can use and am excited to try to do so.

New York Historical Society

I found the library at the New York Historical Society to be very inspiring, but in a very unusual way. Seeing the amount of literature that they have managed to track down and collect and preserve, from so long ago, was amazing. Someone had to make the conscious decision to keep that map, or to not throw away some disposable flyer. While my own desk drawer is filled with ticket stubs and floor plans of tourist attractions that I’ve visited and business cards that I’ve eaten at, I can’t even image that it is possible for my collection to remain intact for so many decades. The library, as well as the collection as Fales, really made me think about how things happening now are going to be history someday, and it is important for us to save as much of that as we can so that it will not be lost to future generations.
More specifically, I thought the little books that listed the wealthiest people, along with their addresses and how much money they were worth, were pretty funny. I suppose it was like an early version of Forbes 500 list, but even so, Forbes is just a magazine, not an actual published book. And both Fales and the New York Historical Society library had this kind of book in their collections, which means they must have been fairly common. I just thought the whole idea was funny.

NYPL Kerouac Exhibit and Beat Generation Lecture (Extra Blog 1)

As I walked around the Kerouac exhibition I noticed that the majority of the materials were Kerouac’s personal journals. As I read bits and pieces of them, I realized how incredible they were. Each journal was almost like reading one of his books. Even early on, they were all written in the infamous Kerouac prose, free flowing yet following a consistent rhythm. He wrote in his journals as if he knew one-day people would read them. He would explain why he liked things or didn’t like them, like when he listed the reasons why Joyce’s “Ulysses” was the best book ever written.
I found myself so captivated by the journals that the scroll seemed almost minute compared to them. Originally I thought the scroll would be the most fantastic thing there, and while it was cool to see, the journals were what grabbed me the most. It felt like I was in his head while reading his journal. I was hearing things I necessarily shouldn’t have, and I really liked that. The amount of written documentation he kept on his own life was just incredible and overwhelming.
The Beat Generation Lecture we heard was not quite what I expected, but interesting. I was expecting a lecture more specific to the Kerouac exhibit, yet I liked hearing about two lesser-known beat poets/writers. I really enjoyed learning more about Diane Di Prima as a woman writer in a male dominant movement. The fact that she was a single mom with 5 kids at that time was pretty unbelievable. I really enjoyed her poem “The Window” and would definitely be interested to read more of her work.

NYPL

I was sadly not able to go on the field trip on Saturday but I got a chance to go to the exhibit on Thursday. The Beatific Soul: 50th Anniversary of Jack Kerouac’s On the Road exhibit at the New York Public Library was amazing and inspiring. I have always been a Kerouac fan- I have mixed feelings about his subjects and as a woman, I have not always been a fan on his feminist views. My favorite part of the exhibit was the 60-foot long scroll that he wrote on. The idea of a scroll to me has always been so old fashioned- harkening to the days of colonial America (or Harry Potter.) The idea of using a scroll now shows so much about how Kerouac wrote- fast, crazy and kinetic- just a fast stream of conscience. It’s almost like he has so many ideas in his head that the process of writing them down takes too long- turning a page would be such a waste of precious creative time!
I also really enjoyed the photographs of Kerouac- I have seen many photographs of him from the 50’s but I really liked the photos of him when he was a boy. There is such an aura that surrounds Kerouac that it becomes hard to think of him as a boy (for me at least.) There is so much legend and myth surrounding him, he is such a cultural icon that the idea of him being a kid who went to school and even injured himself on the Columbia football team seems so strange to me! It was a real shock for me to see all these souvenirs of his life and I really enjoyed seeing that he was a real person!

New York Historical Society

At the New York Historical Society we were able to see various historic documents pertaining to Washington Square Park. The document that interested me the most was the small, page worn booklet that listed the names of the deceased buried in Washington Square Park. These people were all victims of yellow fever and were buried in the park because the corpses were thought to have still been contagious. The thought was that by burying the bodies in Washington Square instead of a cemetery, it would help contain the disease.
This small booklet got me thinking about death in relation to Washington Square Park and how historically death has played a big part in the park’s history. In “Washington Square Park Phase IA Archaeological Assessment,” Joan Geismar mentions that there were two small church cemeteries in what would now be the northeast corner of the park in 1817. She also discusses gallows in Potter’s Field as well as one hanging taken place. While the existence of permanent gallows in Potter’s Field is highly debated, there was one erected in Potter’s Field for the execution of Rose Butler. (The only documented execution in Potter’s Field).
I realized that these are just a few ways death played a role in the history of Washington Square Park and that there are many more. These ideas lead me to my final project idea where I plan to research death in relation to Washington Square Park. I think it’s fascinating that a place full of life is also full of death. While it’s a place of inspiration for many, it’s a final resting place for others.

By Catherine Gargan

Reaction: Jack Kerouac Exhibit at the NYPL

I actually remember when they first started touring the On the Road scroll. I was probably 16 years old and just getting into beat literature, and they were having an exhibit on it in San Francisco. I remember begging my parents to fly me out there just so I could see it. That being said, it was definitely hugely rewarding for me to be able to finally see the scroll in person.

In high school I kind of became a little... obsessed with Jack Kerouac and the beats. My Aunt lived in Marin County so I would go visit her twice a year just so I could spend an entire week locked in Citylights Bookstore. I even met Mel Clay, a friend of all the beats, who signed a copy of his Bob Kaufman biography for me and chatted with me about everything from Naked Lunch to how I could sneak into the favorite beat bar Vesuvio. I was so attracted to their energy, how everything they did produced this tremendous excitement and palpable infectiousness. When I saw all of the drawings and letters and the scroll itself at the NYPL, it definitely felt even more real to me. These were real men just doing their thing: writing, drinking, and yes-- treating women like sexual objects. But to be able to see that scroll really struck a cord with me.

I fancy myself a writer, though I'm not sure how true that really is; the Beats inspired me to keep writing when I was in high school, and seeing that scroll has renewed that fire in me. So far, the NYPL exhibit was definitely the most inspiring for me, both personally and on an educational level.

-Jessica Roy

The New York Historical Society: Mapping the Cultural Evolution of Washington Square Park

Exploring History, Literature, Art and Social Relations in the Village

The New York Historical Society stands as an invaluable resource for New York City history, art, literature and material culture. Mr. Edward O’Reilly, Manuscript Reference Librarian and Mr. Eric Robinson gathered rare and historically significant maps, manuscripts and exhibition catalogues that shed insight onto Washington Square Park’s diverse cultural history. Mr. Robinson shared with us an antiquated projected map of Greenwich Village during its earliest days and related the parks early American ephemera with Peter Warren’s land grant and ownership of the park’s property. The New York Historical Society’s archive of private papers is extensive and prominent around the world. Mr. Robinson explained that along with exclusive selections of Mr. Peter Warren’s papers the Library also own countless first account diaries that talk about everything going in and around the park, from it’s inception as a burial ground during the yellow fever epidemic until the present. Both Mr. Robinson and Mr. O’Reilly spoke pointedly about the breadth and high quality of objects, maps, paintings and prints in the library’s Department of Prints, Art and Architecture. In addition, the Historical Society’s collection of ephemera relating to social and environmental activism in and around the park is extensive and rich with documented conservation efforts from the likes of Shirley Hayes. I remained after and worked with Mr. Robinson on mapping a research plan for my two distinct but nonetheless creatively inspiring interests: Victorian era fashion of Washington Square Park and a study of the theory and aesthetics of Abstract Expressionists. Mr. Robinson was extremely helpful in articulating what resources would be most fruitful in dynamically inspiring a novel work either in painting, garment design or prose. Eric pointed me to a very special collection of fashion trade cards and items of related material culture in New York City from the Winterthur Decorative Arts Collection in Delaware. The New York Historical Society houses the entire collection on microfilm and I look forward to using this resource along with many of the other cultural treasures to support my research and to breathe the dynamic spirit of Washington Square into my project.

Fales Special Collections: Historic Washington Square Park Ephemera & Material Culture

Exploring the Fales Library Special Collections at New York University was insightful and inspiring material for my final project. Mr. Mike Kelly was enthusiastic and incorporated personal insight into the material he carefully selected from the Fales archives to present to our class. Mr. Kelly noted that the Fales Library Collection houses 200,000 books that span 10,000 linear feet of shelving and he explained that Mr. Fales’ intellectual and aesthetic motivations are ever present in every aspect of the humanities based collection of historical, literary and artistic movements in New York City. Mr. Fales was primarily concerned with collecting English novels and publications that pertained to Downtown New York City. He also secured the largest collection of cookbooks and purchased the most extensive group of Louis Carole prints in North America. I was most fascinated by the early and mid 19th century books and trading card advertisements that Mr. Kelly presented to our class. These ephemera seemed to tell a story few history books could match. The actual material culture: telephone books, fashion advertisements, union strike cards and first edition novels seemed to more earnestly convey what life was like in around the park. I am personally inspired by the study of Victorian era material culture (specifically fashion) in and around Washington Park that spans from the mid 19th century the beginning of the 20th. I question in what ways popular Victorian fashion might have been different and reflective of a more diverse grouping of people, culture in, and around early Greenwich Village. Mr. Kelly explained that the Fales rare books collection, houses a collection of two volumes of bound issues of a magazine called LE BON TON. These publications are filled with fashion news and have full color illustrations of the very latest fashions that were emerging from London and France during the 19th century. Mr. Kelly also explained that there is a profusion of historical subject matter at the New York Historical Society under the topics of “clothing and dress.” Other highlights of our visit to the Fales Library Special Collections include beautiful, vintage Washington Square Park ephemera. A 1843 post card of the Astor Place Opera House and a first edition copy of “On the Road” are just a few of the fascinating forms of history as objects that the Fales Collection houses at New York University to provide students with inspiration and historical frames of reference.

NYHS

I’m surprised at how much past material we still have. Blueprints and declarations are typically archived, I suppose, but who would have thought to save personal journals and address books? The address book was interesting because if you can get names, addresses and people’s occupations, then there is a good chance you can reconstruct each person’s life. I’m sure there are other resources that contain different information within the same time period. Someone must have recorded names and addresses of businesses, schools, stores, parks, churches and personal information. If you start cross-referencing all these sources I’m sure it’s possible to take one family and find out where the parents worked and shopped and where the kids went to school and played. All the details of these people’s lives can be reconstructed and seeing that personal journal confirmed this for me.
I’m not really interested in how the land in/around the park has slowly evolved, but I can understand why the map that they showed us is significant. Anywhere I go in this city, I see buildings being demolished and new ones constructed in their place. It’s easy to forget what used to be there, or to not know at all.
I’ve also noticed, from the readings and the old NYU flyer asking for donations, that it’s impossible to talk about the history of Washington Square without bringing NYU into the picture. The school and the community are intertwined because they share the same physical space.

New York Historical Society

Anyone else notice that you are only allowed to write in pencil while in the library?

Who knew...

I think the most interesting display item that the two nice gentlemen laid out for us was the book of residents of New York (I don't remember what they were called.)  But I found it fascinating to see just what type of people were living in New York around the time Henry James and Edith Wharton and any other great New York writer were writing.  I wish the city still made a similar directory.  What if you could compare a volume like that made today with the one on display at the NYHS... how vastly different could you tell New York is now from then just by looking at entries in a book?

I also loved the NYU poster that encouraged donors to help raise money for the school.  It seems not much has changed, huh?  I thought that poster could have easily been made today.  It's interesting to see how NYU channeled growth back then versus now.  A few weeks ago I went to an event that was hosted by NYU about the school's plan for the future.  Apparently the plan is to take over all of downtown, about one fourth of Brooklyn and Governor's Island (I didn't even know the public had access to Governor's Island.)  Anyway, it just goes to show how NYU went from part of the community to the community itself.  But how they're able to do it despite all the resistance still fascinates me (consider what's happening to Washington Square Park.)  I wonder who's giving money to this campaign (besides us, of course) and I wonder what it means to WSP and the Village.  Twenty years from now no one will call this area the Village anymore, they'll just call it NYU, and Washington Square Park will be "the Quad."

It's sort of sad.

-drew henry, 2/24/08

The Society’s Artifacts.

I'd never been to the New York Historical Society, but I had been to the Natural History Museum. It was there that I saw gigantic bones in the shapes of dinosaurs that are now too extinct to walk and frolic amongst the now melting icecaps. Then I arrived on the front steps of the New York Historical Society and realized that I had been there before. It was there that I sat alone in a small wooden shack that was supposed replicate the dark attic Harriet Jacobs lived in, hiding there for seven years in the confines of its cramped quarters. And now, this time, I stood around a large wooden table in their library counting small folded index cards that read, “INK PENS NOT ALLOWED, please use pencils only” and “THOSE STUDYING MAPS HAVE PROIRITY AT THIS TABLE.”

I managed to eavesdrop on a guy sitting behind me wearing glasses and studying housing maps of Manhattan over near Riverside Park. I heard him ask a girl younger than myself if she was aware of for whom her house was built for. She answered, “Mary Pickford.” “Do you know who she is?” “Wasn’t she…a silent film star? And they called her America’s Sweetheart, or something?” “Well, she wasn’t my sweetheart,” he grumbled and ended the conversation he had started. She knew some about Mary Pickford, but lacked the natural enthrallment of someone who was actually living and breathing and sleeping and watching primetime television in an apartment built specifically for Mary Pickford. The same Mary Pickford that enthralls me by just blinking her eyes and smiling coyly in the 1928 film, “My Best Girl.” Mary Pickford is my favorite actress. But I stopped listening after grandpa verbally sulked out his own failure to get with Mary Pickford by putting in his last two unnecessary cents.

Then I looked at the oversized table in front of me, the same one that gave special priority to map users, but there wasn’t much in the way of maps covering it, except one or two small maps of the park. Unenthused with the lecture that went along with the tour of the artifacts that came from the archives of the New York Historical Society, I thought about reading It Happened on Washington Square. The history of the park is detailed almost meticulously in that book, making a short, thirty minute lecture seem like old hat, common park knowledge. Although the lecture wasn’t much for teaching us many new things, with respect to the short time and having read the book, having the maps and watercolor architectural paintings was an experience on its own. It’s not everyday those who don’t lurk in the archives of libraries get to see things that are older than some of our great-grandparents. Although, someday, I do aspire to achieve status of professional archive lurker. The ephemera, ephemera, ephemera, although we didn’t get to see too much of that, the phone book directories were terribly interesting. The early arch sketches were worth seeing and the Washington Centennial celebration book looked thick and full of the plain facts of having fun, first president style. So, making the hour train trip uptown in the middle of the afternoon for a thirty-minute talk at the New York Historical was worth it. If only for the sight of the archive’s collection of artifacts and, of course, what was overheard of Miss Pickford’s apartment.


--nicole wallace.

Tracing the “N’s” of Poe’s Pen.

Forget the screenplays of Woody Allen, untouched by even his own witty ink marks, and the wispy letters in the letters written by old money bags, Henry James. These plastic protected artifacts at the Morgan were clearly inferior when set out on the same table as the handwritten, timeworn papers of the grossly romanticized and mythologized poet and writer, Edgar Allen Poe.

It was all in the “N’s,” I thought.

I imagined black clothes clad Poe at a rickety writing desk in the garret of some brownstone off Third Street and Thompson (where the NYU law school library now dully replaces his once historical quarters) getting bleary-eye in a slow drunk, pen in hand, paper laid out on the desk in front of him in the dimness of the ending of another afternoon. He reaches over and dips the tip of his pen in black sticky ink, holding it in his hand, pausing, the tip drips the black onto his dented and already stained desk top and he meets the pen to the paper in short, careful sweeps. Up-right, down-over, right-back-left, up-down-up-over, but with unexpected control and the clever preciseness of an unshaking pen. Poe’s perfected script is nothing like the scrawls and scratches his character would lead you to believe.

His “N’s,” I couldn’t believe.

I took out a notebook sheet on the train and traced like Poe’s “N,” black, felt tip pen.

There’s something that gets stuck inside a piece of crummy paper once someone puts a pen to it. Obviously words and letters make sentences or nonsense, depending, but there’s the ink of the pen, the handwriting. Something about the hand script in ink seems more tangible. It’s like touching hands with someone who’s been dead six times as long as you’ve lived, or at least that’s what it’s like for me. I’ve never liked the mythical man, Poe, his poetry or his short stories much, but holding his handwriting right then was horribly captivating. Hanging onto someone else’s history with your own hands is a strange feeling. It connects you to a time, a person or a place that no longer exists, except in your own mind and, only then, through the brown faded ink and the “N’s” that once flooded from their unshaking, poem preaching pen.


--nicole wallace.

Connecting the Dots- New York Historical Society

Although I was only able to be at the New York Historical Society for a short time, what impressed me the most was a map of Washington Square Park which documented the design of the park prior to all of the reconstruction that has occurred over the decades. I began to wonder what it would look like if transparent blueprints were created and placed one on top of another displaying all of the changes which have been made to WSP. I find it absolutely fascinating to analyze the numerous ways in which the history of WSP can be revealed. Architectural documentation, personal accounts, paintings, music and construction blueprints are all ways in which to bring the history of WSP to life.

Among the many artifacts which were presented to us while at the New York Historical Society there was a manuscript of a diary of one of the Mayors of New York City many, many years ago. While the diary was being presented to the class I made a mental note of something which one of the lectures said. He said that manuscripts are unpredictable; one never knows what might be revealed in a diary. I thought that to be the perfect analogy for WSP because so much has happened either in or around WSP that it would be illogical to assume that one could ever know everything having to do with WSP. WSP has been so many different things to so many different people that I am just glad that there is adequate documentation to preserve and pass on the history of WSP to future generations. Having never been to the New York Historical Society before, I found it to be quite a worth while trip being that it exposed me to new and fascinating objects which helped me to come to the realization of how important it is to collect and preserve a variety of artifacts in order to establish a full and accurate historical representation of a place.

Six Degress of Separation-Fales Special Colletions

Who knew New York University had a library for special collections? I sure did not, at least not until last week. It was quite amazing to see an assortment of rare books and other material all having to do with Washington Square Park in one manner or another but what I found to be most fascinating was to see an original copy of “The Madhouse in Washington Square” with the cover art done by Andy Warhol. Most people, including myself, best know Andy Warhol as a silk screen artist but it was interesting to see the work which he did before he became famous. When I saw the cover of the book it made me think about all of the people that are connected to WSP in one way or another. I thought about the hundreds of thousands of students who have attended NYU and are connected to the square that way. I thought about all of the writers, and musicians and actors and play writes and poets who have been inspired by WSP. I thought about the political movements and rallies that have taken place in WSP over the many years. I thought about all of the architects who have made WSP what it was yesterday and what it will be like tomorrow. I mean I could just go on and on about the people who have made WSP what it is today and about the tremendous impact that WSP has had on numerous people over the decades.

Although we could not touch the pieces which we saw at Fales Special Collections library it was still a unique experience to know that held within Bobst Library are such rare and precious pieces which document the history or WSP. Because the pieces were arranged in chronological order it was fascinating to see how the rare books and magazines reflected specific moments in the history of WSP. Knowing how important it is to preserve books and other material alike, I was really pleased to discover that NYU has a deep respect for material as that which was shown to our class. I do find it to be a little bit depressing that NYU does not make it more known to students that they have a collection like Fales. I think that if more students knew about the special collections section of the library that they would definitely take advantage of such an unbelievable resource.

Reaction to NY Historical Society

Going to the New York Historical Society was a very unique experience for me. I have always been fascinated by the kinds of people who live in the city, and I certainly love the diversity that one experiences in it. I grew up in Los Angeles, so I am used to many characters- but there truly is no city like New York. I chose to take the subway to the Society- figuring I could take the D to 59th then switch to the B and make it 81st street in 45 minutes, what I did not count on was New York being well- New York. On the subway while I was sitting down an elderly man approached me wearing a long trench coat with nothing underneath. He proceeded to flash me and then follow me around the subway car- I consider myself a jaded New Yorker, but this was certainly an unusual and fairly frightening experience. I jumped off the subway at the next stop, which luckily was 7th Avenue and once I boarded the next B train, the universe turned against me and delayed for 15 minutes between 59th and 72nd street. I ended up arriving at the society at 1:20, could not find the group and paid my own admissions fee.

Now after a morning like this I felt like I was about to give up on New York. I was infuriated with my city! I felt betrayed by the subway which I can usually count on to zoom me around the city quickly, and I felt violated by the people, who I usually get along with very well, from the most snooty socialite to the most eccentric homeless man- I usually appreciate my cities characters. I walked in to the historical society and received a breath of fresh air. I slowly wandered around the exhibition of Lafayette’s Return to Washington’s America and Here is New York: Remembering 9/11 as well as some of the permanent collections.

Seeing some of these amazing New York artifacts- especially ones from where I live- Greenwich Village- rekindled my love for the city and made me forget my horrid commute. I loved seeing the antique key to the Washington Square Arch, and the Bank Book from 1812. The relics of old New York make me wonder about who owned those items and what stories are behind them. I spent a long time looking at all the portraits and thinking of all the eccentric characters that used to live in New York and how it has evolved. I also loved the pink Keefe scarf with Washington Square on it and wish I could buy one! I ran out of time, I wonder if there was a gift shop?

Reaction to NYC Historical Society Visit

Due to a class I had to attend at 2pm, I was only able to stay at the NY Historical Society for about 20 minutes. However, the artifacts that I did get to see definitely caught my interest. One of the things I found the most interesting was the directory of people who lived in the city categorized by address. I lived at Hayden last year, which is located on Washington Square West, so I was deeply exposed to what it meant to live on the park. The directory could help show me the kind of people who lived in that area hundreds of years ago. It also could probably illustrate when exactly the shift took place from Washington Square in the Henry James sense, as a playground for the elite New Yorkers, to the more bohemian, artist-driven society it seems to capture now. This shift represents an important change in Greenwich Village life, as illustrated in Republic of Dreams; women such as Edna St. Vincent Millay helped to reconstruct what it meant to live in the village. Art and writing began to trump financial gain and society position. This shift greatly affected the way Greenwich Village is viewed today, both by outsiders and New Yorkers alike.
The map that was shown at the beginning of the presentation was also interesting; it’s fascinating to note that New York was not always on a grid system, and that it was developed later and laid over the more confusing Dutch settlement once the English took over the colony. The grid system is now one of the primary markers of life in New York, and wholly dictates how we get to and from places all over the city.

-Jessica Roy

FYI - Research Sessions at NYPL

Dear Washington Square scholars:

Thought the following might be of interest.
NYPL regularly runs short sessions (roughly an hour) to introduces patrons to their collections resources, there are several upcoming sessions that are beneficial for our class:

Digital Gotham [check scheduled dates]
Description: Did you know that you can search thousands of images and photographs of “old” New York City for free from your PC? This class will introduce you to a myriad of online resources, many of which are available from your own desktop. From digitized newspapers, magazines, and books to passenger lists, menus, and maps, come discover New York City history through a computer.
Location: Humanities and Social Sciences Library
Prerequisite: Participation in all classes assumes a basic level of computer skill and experience.

Decoding the Art Market [check scheduled dates]
Description: Acquaint yourself with the tools used in the art market for the identification and valuation of fine and decorative art. Become familiar with reference books and databases in the field including biographical dictionaries, auction sale indexes, and catalogues raisonnés. You will learn how to search and interpret auction records while accessing auction catalogs here at the Library.
Location: Humanities and Social Sciences Library
Prerequisite: Participation in all classes assumes a basic level of computer skill and experience.

Investigating New York City Architecture [check scheduled dates]
Description: Researching the architecture of a building in New York City can be difficult and bewildering. This class will introduce print and online resources that can make this process less daunting and more productive. The collections of The New York Public Library will be emphasized, but important resources throughout the metropolitan area will also be introduced.
Location: Humanities and Social Sciences Library
Prerequisite: Participation in all classes assumes a basic level of computer skill and experience.

Check out: www.nypl.org for more information.

ASH

“In the footsteps of Jackson Pollock (… and Brad & Angie): A day at the MET”

The current exhibition of Abstract Expressionism at the MET museum is a feast for the senses. This is, of course, as it should be, given that the artistic genre under examination is itself concerned with feasting and often overwhelming the senses. Powerful and assaulting, these works challenge the viewer the tactile and material reality of life and the human condition. As curator Marci Kwon explained to my gaggle of bright NYU undergraduate scholars, Astract Expressionism addresses fundamentally the conflict of exteriality versus interiality, the conscious versus the unconscious, the revelation of the artist’s self and his/her artist process.

“Tight,” “nuanced,” and “violent” is how critic Clement Greenberg described this movement – the same could said a few of its practionners, most notably and obviously Jackson Pollock. And indeed, it is Pollock’s work – the piece de la resistance of this current exhibition – which drew me and my students to the MET on this sunny afternoon, but is the work of the lesser-known, lesser-iconic Abstract Expressionists that made the most profound impression, and in fact, took my breath away.

That this group of revolutionary artists were nutured and inspired in and around Washington Square is no surprise. The diners and coffee shops that they frequented still remain, and one hopes their spirit of determined defiance does also. It does make me wonder, how, in years to come, generations of scholars and students will regard, rever or reject the art of our time.

This has been a formidable start to our investigation, our cultural history of Washington Square.

As an artist/thinker living in Washington Square, I am humbled by the achivement of the artistic giants who have come before, while at the same time I am encouraged by the legacy they have left behind. As an artist, I am inspired to occupy the same space as Pollock, de Kooning, etc.

(Note: Ref to ‘Brad & Angie’ – Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie were the most celebrated visitors to this exhibtion at the MET, which sadly closes this weekend.)

The Morgan

    Walking to the Morgan, I had no idea what I was about to experience. As a result my initial enthusiasm for this site visit was minimal. However, immediately after stepping inside the building, walking through the halls, I realized I was in the presence of something great. We were lead into a beautiful antique music room, and I immediately felt as if I were entering a different time period. 

    It was here where we were introduced to the works of renowned writers such as Henry James and Edgar Allan Poe. Handwritten manuscripts from the 1800s sitting before us. I realized with this that I was able to relate to these works in an unexpected way. These stories, poems, and letters are pieces of art on their own. Originals. Individual handwriting, scratch-outs, markups are what make each page unique. Here they were, sitting in front of me, pages from the 1800s. Unbelievable. 

    In awe, I continue my appreciation for the Morgan when I analyze the part of JP Morgan Jr himself. A collector of all these works, holding infinite value in so many ways, his collection has continued with such great importance to the city of New York. Those employed now by the Morgan continue his collection by purchasing more contemporary pieces such as Bob Dyllan's manuscripts. The business of collecting timeless manuscripts is competitive and one that takes careful decision making. This visit not only influenced my appreciation for these artists, but for the long process that goes into creating the collection as well. 

Closer than ever

My favorite museum in New York is the Frick Collection, and it has been my favorite since I initially visited over a year ago. Because it was originally home to the collector and his family, and since the building has been preserved so well, the paintings and sculptures felt more alive than do those held in large buildings built to hold art, like the Met. And so I was naturally excited to visit the Morgan Library. However, I have never understood the attraction to original manuscripts and apparently arbitrary letters written by/for artists and writers. I know, it's an attitude that many would regard as ignorant -- and that may not be far from the truth.

I tossed my cigarette somewhere to my left and stuffed my croissant in my bag. Walking toward the Madison Avenue entrance to the Morgan, I put away my iPod and approached the doorman. After attempting to find the staff entrance twice, despite the fact that the doorman gave me directions before each attempt, I finally made it in the building with Dr. Smith-Howard's guidance. As Dr. Declan Kiely led the group through the labyrinthine underground of the Morgan, we passed what appeared to be a fully-staffed kitchen, and I remembered the event being held upstairs in the Dining Room. 'Is this place really catering an event?' It was a bit disappointing to realize the presence of business in a private collection. Then again, I doubt Mr. Morgan would object.

The artifacts Dr. Kiely presented, although fewer than I had hoped for, were different from what I expected. The Edgar Allen Poe scroll was particularly surprising primarily because I couldn't (and still can't) understand why he would choose to use it. Dr. Kiely explained that writers often connected multiple pages top-to-bottom to allow for continuous and undisturbed writing, which means Poe thought it more beneficial than bothersome to assemble parchment in such a way, which is something I just don't have the patience for. Granted, I'm using my laptop to type this and poor Poe used parchment and quills. His handwriting though, was disturbingly legible. I haven't read much of his work, but considering the content of what I have read and his reputation of being toward the darker side of sanity, I expected his handwriting to be of his own twisted shorthand, littered with marks and hiccups. But it was beautiful.

After browsing through one of Henry James' manuscripts, I began to understand what it was all about: the artist. Seeing the way his hand moved over his draft as he sought out the imperfections inspired a closeness to the artist that I hadn't felt before -- not even at the Frick. I wandered into the Morgan sure that I considered the presence of the collector the most interesting aspect a personal art collection could foster. But I headed to my next class wondering, 'How the hell did this guy get original manuscripts?'

The MET

Our visit to the Metropolitan Museum of Art to see the exhibit of Abstract Expressionism and other Modern Works truly inspired me in terms of my studies. This is my first semester at Gallatin, so attending a class in which I can visit various sites around the city will allow me to take full advantage of my new surroundings. This visit in particular held great importance to me because I am studying the business side of the art industry. 

Visiting museums is nothing new to me, having had an interest in art history for many years now. However, this tour in particular gave me a different perspective to paintings that I had previously studied in numerous classes. Artists such as Jackson Pollock and Willem de Kooning are familiar as well as their corresponding works, but the way in which they are all brought together is a new experience for me.

Learning about these artists' lives, beyond what is written in Art History textbooks, gave a new perspective of what life as an artist is like. This tour, informing us about specific places these artists worked and lived, as well as the way in which they influenced each other, was very effective. I am interested in further researching this "club" formed by the group of artists living and working in New York City in the 1950's. I believe I can learn a lot from the way in which these successful artists lived their lives right here in the same area we are living and studying today. 

These artists' success is undeniable in the art world. Their incredible works of art automatically spark an interest in their personal lives. Now, with the insight I acquired through the tour at the MET, I would like to further study the lives of artists from the past as well as artists today. I feel as if a lot could be learned from the way these struggling artists achieved their success, and could be applied to or compared with artists living in the city today. 

Old stuff.

Going to the Morgan Library and Museum was an experience. I rarely travel to Midtown Manhattan and often get lost when I do. This particular day was no exception! Thanks to Phil’s sense of direction and text-messaging abilities I was able to make it to the Morgan only five minutes late. Dr. Declan Kiely led us through the usually unseen parts of the museum, passing by the kitchen and some storage rooms or something. Libraries and museums can seem inaccessible, however being led around by an intellectual with a sense of humor, well, it helps. The room we sat it seemed too nice to be in. At the end of the class, I hesitated turning the doorknob for fear that I would break something. I like looking at old things. I don’t like looking at old things that I can’t read due to poor legibility. Somehow, Edgar Allen Poe wrote letters and poems that were hard to understand, but a scroll that was perfectly legible. Interesting. The print on the scroll was very small which may have had something to do with it. I was incredibly excited at the mention of there being a Woody Allen script among the pieces Dr. Kiely was to show to us. I wish it was a copy that had corrections and cross-outs, but it wasn’t. Oh well, still cool. It’s an incredible experience to view items like the Poe letters and the Henry James manuscript up close.

Poe at the Morgan

Seeing artifacts from stories I’ve heard and people I admire is really cool to me. I was into Edgar Allen Poe’s poetry back in middle and high school and I did a paper on him, memorized “The Raven” for class, read about details of his life and whatnot. When Declan said they had Poe’s collection, I was eager to see Poe’s handwriting and the papers that he himself touched. Looking at his pieces, I couldn’t help but place them into the context of Poe’s life. Where was he when he wrote this? What was his mindset? “The Raven” is his best known poem and seeing that letter just reminded me that it wasn’t always that way. Poe had to write and rewrite the work. He proposed this new idea for “The Raven” to someone and had to struggle to get it published before it was anything at all. That was the item that stood out the most to me.
I found the scroll to be odd. Did he first put the blank papers together or did he first write on separate pages? I was trying to understand why he would choose a scroll over binding it like a book. I took a class about the printing press and the importance of decisions on font, spacing, punctuation, binding (or not binding) and how the final piece is presented. Poe’s short story didn’t stop flowing because there were no pages to turn. I got close to the paper to see if he had written it quickly (in one sitting) or stopped and picked up in different inks or angles. The artist’s details are lost in reproduced works so I’m glad I got the chance to appreciate Poe’s originals.

The Morgan

I had no idea what the Morgan Library was before entering its side-door last Monday afternoon. I had never been there nor had I ever heard of it. I was delighted to hear, however, that it was formerly the house of American financier JP Morgan, because I would go on to say "I took a field trip to JP Morgan's house today!" for the rest of the day. But besides that perk, I was very happy to see that it was really an extremely interesting collection that included letters, drafts, and manuscripts by Henry James, Edgar Allen Poe, Woody Allen, Allen Ginsberg, Jack Kerouac, and many more. Unfortunately, our group did not get to see any works from the "Beat" generation due to the main exhibit being closed, which are what I would have been most excited to see. After exploring a back corridor of the Morgan -- which, surprisingly, is not among the normal stops on the tour -- were led into an impressive old-looking room with wood-paneled walls, all covered with ornate gold accents. Our guide showed us several very interesting pieces of the collection, but what I found most interesting was 10+ foot scroll of a short story (which I cannot remember the name of) by Edgar Allen Poe. His handwriting was incredibly clear, and being rolled up for so long seemed to do a world of good for its condition, as it was still easy to read if you could manage to get up close. I also enjoyed taking a look at the Henry James letters, the scattered-ness of which only added to their poetic appeal, I'm sure. I would certainly enjoy exploring the actual exhibit of the Morgan Library when it is open to the public, but this private showing of non-exhibit materials was quite excellent.

Reflecting on the MET and the MORGAN

We often see museums and libraries as the storehouses of something ancient, unrelated to our lives and times. However, the Abstract Expressionism exhibit at the Metropolitan Museum of Art and the manuscripts at the Morgan Library showed us not emblems of a time, but rather, of a place, and that place still exists today. We walk through Washington Square Park with our heads held high as proud students of New York University and residents of New York City. We attend our rallies and chat with our artists, and we have our clubs where we gather to discuss the latest works of art, theater, and music. What fascinates me, as I learned from Marci at the Metropolitan Museum, is that the Greats were just like us, once upon a time.

The Pollock painting at the Metropolitan Museum really had an intense impact on me. As I gazed at the colors strewn across the canvas, I could see all of Washington Square speaking through art. I could see the agony of the poor in the streaks of black, the tired musicians in the thinning lines, and the jagged shapes of artists trying to make a statement and change their molds. It’s everything that I want to do and be. Years ago, Pollock sat on a bench in Washington Square Park and scoffed at the ‘normal’. Life is about change and moving forward. It still is, and always will be. And we, just like Pollock, can move to the future with our own voices of scattered paint.

The Morgan Library struck another chord. Housed in a building that is an architectural testament to the Old New York depicted in Fitzgerald’s short stories, the collection of manuscripts was more of a testament to the past never dying, even as we move into the future. Every word penned by Edgar Allen Poe’s own hand is still intact on fragile scrolls. Though the intended readers are long deceased, the letters remain, and this fact gives us a glimpse at the possibility of immortality. Every word we write on paper can outlast us. Our minds can live eternally. It really makes one reflect upon all work differently. School papers, essays, poems scribbled for a workshop, and even letters to a friend are no longer simple tasks to ‘get out of the way’. They take on a more meaningful quality when we realize that, years from now, someone can discover these scraps and use them as a guide to uncover who we once were. History, even our own, is often crucial to understanding the human psyche. So what is it that we want to leave behind?

~Lara Torgovnik

The Morgan Library: Exploring Literary Masters of Washington Square Park

Our experience at the special collections division of the J.P. Morgan Library, provided me the rare opportunity to experience the material culture of prominent writers and composers working in and around Washington Square Park. Dr. Declan Kiely explained the historical significance of the library’s holdings and its preeminent position as a place that enlightens scholars and up and coming writers. Researchers can utilize the library’s vast and rare holdings to glean intimate facts about inspirational figures in literary history, as well as explore the actual texts and visual culture of their creations. Dr. Kiely displayed many original manuscripts of legendary writers such as Henry James, e e cummings, Edgar Allen Poe and Edith Wharton. He also passed around the original correspondence of these authors who frequently wrote to each other for inspiration, and to compare insight on style and content of each others work. It was wonderful to explore the visual aspects of Mr. Morgan’s collection, many of which incorporated gold ink gilding, intricate marbelized pattern paper and fine parchment and penmanship. Mr. Morgan's immense holdings range from Egyptian art to Renaissance paintings and Chinese porcelain. The largest portion of Mr. Morgan’s library is made up of illuminated, literary and historical manuscripts. More recently, Mr. Morgan collected manuscripts and printed materials significant to American history. Dr. Kiely extrapolated on the significance and complexity of acquiring objects for the collection, and he spoke pointedly about the process of establishing provenance in addition to authenticating objects and establishing their rights of sale. Our trip to the Morgan Library provided invaluable insight into collecting, curating and studying historical documents of great literary significance in and around Washington Square Park.

Streams of Consciousness & Material Culture: Abstract Expressionism at the Met

Material Culture: Abstract Expressionism at the Met

Abstract Expressionism and Other Modern Works: The Muriel Kallis Steinberg Newman Collection in The Metropolitan Museum of Art captured the unprecedented purity of revolutionary abstract artists working in and around Washington Square Park. Ms. Marci Kwon provided in depth insight into the sublimely bombastic world of Abstract Expressionists working in and around New York City during the 1940’s. The Met exhibition presented fifty-five works that were assembled by Muriel Kallis Steinberg Newman, who was one of the most forward thinking and astute collectors of her time. The exhibition catalogue includes: Jackson Pollock’s Number 28, 1950, which stands as a prime example of the artist’s most abstract work. In addition, Attic, 1929, by Willem de Kooning and Franz Kline’s Nijinsky (1950) stand as visceral expressions derived from the intuitive, undisturbed streams of consciousness. Artists like Mark Rothko created their own visual language by which they were able to record their feelings about society and the human condition. Artists like Jackson Pollock, Jasper Johns and Robert Rauschenberg worked exclusively in and around Washington Square Park and were known as ‘The Club.’ They shared studio space and interacted daily in dynamic meetings at infamous cafeteria and bars around the Washington Square Park.

The Muriel Kallis Steinberg Newman Collection is the only existing collection of Abstract Expressionist works that were amassed at the time of their creation. I was fascinated by Ms. Steinberg’s collecting philosophy and her vision. Ms. Kwon extrapolated on this avant-garde collector who saw the Abstract Expressionists as social revolutionaries whose work, through medium, color, form, scale and texture reflected a new vision. Ms. Newman was known for her intelligence and enthusiasm and merged her history as a painter, her love for New York, and her intuitive eye for modern art into one of the most important collections of Abstract Expressionist art in the world. She was born in Chicago in 1914 and attended the School of the Art Institute of Chicago, the Institute of Design, and the University of Chicago. In 1938, she married Jay Z. Steinberg. She loved to visit New York. In 1949 on one of her excursions in the city one of her art professors from Chicago introduced her to ‘The Club.’ Steinberg was immediately drawn to their ideals and the aesthetic behind them and Ms. Newman proceeded to collect their work with great discernment. By 1954 she had amassed a collection of superb paintings by Pollock, de Kooning, Kline, and Rothko.

I was moved by the passionate gestural brash work featured in Franz Klines 1950 Nijinsky. Ms. Kwon explained that Kline projected sketches on an overhead onto a window shade that he would affix to a wooden frame. Kline proceeded to paint abstract forms onto his makeshift canvasses and would use old newspapers to blot out undesired sections of his work. Experiencing this exhibition while learning about the social history of Washington Square Park has inspired my personal interest in painting and design. I look forward to further exploring the material culture that surrounds these revolutionary artists.

The Morgan-An unexpected gift

I have always been skeptical of the idea of special collections on private viewing because I do not believe that anyone should be deprived access to art or history. My trip to the Morgan Museum only reaffirmed my original feelings. Having never been to the Morgan before I had no expectations for what I was going to see. From the outside, as well as the inside, the architecture of the Morgan looks relatively modern but the collections which are housed within would not be characterized in the same way.

Heading past the ropes stationed in front of the glass doors to indicate a restricted area I became excited to find out what lay behind the double doors which were directly in front of me. Entering what we later found out to be the music room of Mr. Pierpont Morgan’s private residence I was transported back to the late nineteenth, early twentieth century. The dark wood and interior design of the room was the perfect setting for what was about to be revealed before me.

Having woken up on that Wednesday morning I foolishly had assumed that it would be like any other Wednesday, but I quickly came to find out that I was very wrong. The rare materials which Dr. Declan Kiely, a curator at the Morgan, showed us were things I never thought I would see; letters and a scroll written by Edgar Allen Poe himself, as well as a manuscript by Henry James with his own edits in the margins. The language that was scrawled across the pages was language I had only ever heard in Jane Austen movies. As Dr. Kiely told us stories pertaining to the lifestyle of Mr. Poe, living literally as a starving artist, I began to understand how truly important his work was to him. Having a small piece of his work laid out before me on a table made Mr. Poe real to me. He was no longer just a poet or a story teller, rather he was now a real person who had lived a life and expressed himself through various creative outlets. But my favorite part of the field trip was getting to see the work of Henry James, a man who was a resident of Washington Square Park during one of the numerous periods when activism and expressing ones creativity was an essential part of life on the square.

MET-Jackson Pollock

Who has to say something is art to make it art? Who has to say a piece of art is good to make it good? I do not know if there is an finite answer to either one of these questions but I do know that when I think about the Jackson Pollock piece in the Abstract Expressionism exhibition at the Metropolitan Museum of Art these where the first two questions that came to my mind. The fact that the Pollock piece was located directly in the middle of the room, and was the first thing one noticed upon entering the space, made it all the more impressive to me.

Before my trip to the MET a couple of weeks ago I had never actually seen a Jackson Pollock piece in person. I am actually a bit ashamed to say this but it is true. Despite having visited numerous museums during my 21 years and dozens of trips to the MET, I had just never been able to stand face-to-painting with a Jackson Pollock piece before. All of the pictures I had seen of his works in textbooks and literature before paled in comparison to the real thing.

Up close I could appreciate the texture of every little bump and slash of paint. I could imagine Jackson Pollock standing over the blank white canvas swooshing and dripping his paintbrush again and again to create something that had never before been created. Standing there, taking in everything that was in front of me, I could not help but draw a connection between Pollock as an artist who defied the conventional way of painting with the way in which men and women like Max Eastman, Jig Cook, Mabel Dodge and Margaret Sanger subscribed to an unconventional lifestyle living in Washington Square in the 19-teens and the 1920’s.

The same way Jackson Pollock challenged the traditional techniques used for painting, so too did Jig Cook when he and others assembled the Provincetown Players in an attempt to resist the conventions of theatre produced night after night on Broadway. The same way I questioned what makes art art and what makes good art good, those privy to the performances put on by the Provincetown Players also questioned whether or not what they were seeing was truly theatre and whether or not it was any good. But again, I find myself pondering the same types of questions: who decides whether something is artistic or good? Who decides if something is meaningful or not? The best I can do is decide for myself whether I like or dislike what is presented before me, and although I cannot comment on the productions of the Provincetown Players, I can say that I was undeniably moved by the Jackson Pollock piece displayed in the MET Abstract Expressionism exhibit.

Abstract Expressionism

Upon entering abstract expressionism exhibit, the first piece that caught my eye was a relatively small sketch on the back left wall of a creature identified as a firebird. This figure was grotesque, I couldn’t differentiate from what could be a limb or a wing, but I got the message of the sketch. It was an authentic and raw representation of someone’s vision, a creature someone else conjured up within their daydreams. And this vision was now staring at me, blankly, not unlike the immaculate white walls that bordered this interesting little sketch.
Upon walking a little further into the exhibit, I found a three-dimensional representation of this firebird, strained and stuck in the same position, seemingly grappling with some immense energy force. The same surge that can be observed watching a predator attack permeated every contour of the creature. The implied motion was sharp, exact, completed with Pollock like precision. It was not until I saw this second “live” version of the sketch I had encountered in the earlier room that any of this resonated with me. Being able to see the same idea, the very same firebird, expressed in two entirely different mediums with such dexterity got me thinking. How do I think about my thought? How do I represent it mentally, and is there any consistency to my thought processes? Is it all random and dependant upon that particular moment? I’ve never been able to reproduce on the page what I see in my head, and the fact that this artist did so once, let alone twice, made me truly appreciate what it means to be an artist.

MET

As we passed under the big red banner, proclaiming the collection of a woman with probably the longest name I've ever seen, and walked into the big square room, I couldn't help but notice how this gallery of abstract expressionism was set up. Before I could even begin to look at the paintings on the surrounding walls, my eyes shot straight for the Jackson Pollack piece, hung on the big square pillar in the center of the room. Staring down this piece for several moments and understanding the magnitude of its worth, I began to glance around the room at the other paintings. I looked from the right wall, back to the center pillar, then to the left, and back to the center pillar. I wondered about all the reasons why the curators of this collection decided to place Pollack's piece smack dab in the center of this art movement. For physical reasons alone, the Pollack piece is huge and does fit the entire wall of the center pillar nicely. But as I looked around the room once more, I noticed that there were several pieces just as large and that could have fit this space just as well. So why put the Pollack piece here? I would like to make the argument that the curators of the collection were making a bigger statement than just "this piece is large and looks nice here" when they decided to place Pollack's piece in the center. Besides how famous and well known his paintings became after his death, Pollack was in fact one of the central artists making large strides within the abstract expressionism movement. Thus his position in the MET gallery, an artist in the center of his art community, was clearly thought out.

I thought this detail was interesting as I thought about how the confines and designs of specific spaces influence your ideas of what the space means to you and of what kinds of feelings you take away from the space. What if Pollack's piece was on a left or right wall, and another piece hung in its place in the center? Would the image of Pollack's piece still be burning in my mind as strongly? Would I have unconsciously diminished the magnitude of impact Pollack had on this specific art movement if his piece had not been in the center?

I would like to switch the position of Pollack's piece with another piece done by an artist of lesser magnitude and do a study on how people view Pollack versus how they view the other artist in such a set up. Then switch the pieces back and do the study once more, with different subjects. In this study, we could see just how much space and the design of that space affects our ideas and feelings.

Abstract Expressionism: A Visit to the Met

Viewing the temporary Muriel Kallis Steinberg Newman exhibit of a personal collection of 40s and 50s abstract expressionist art was a particularly relevant introduction to this class. Last semester I took a class, The Quest for Modernity, which helped alleviate most of the confusion and intimidation I had previously associated with the broad category of “modern art.” We read, viewed, and listened to modern pieces, and attempted to conceptualize a more universal understanding of exactly what makes art “modern,” and how these artists were influenced by the past.

So I felt prepared when I visited the Newman exhibit to look beyond simply studying the 63 paintings from surface value, to analyzing how an artist like Gaston was inspired by his predecessor, Miro, and also by his contemporary surroundings. I felt like I had the foundation knowledge to assess, above all, why these pieces are considered so original. I don’t have all those answers – yet – but I do have a better understanding of the movement behind the collection, and how location played a key role. It’s also a stunning thought to realize how rare it was for a woman to have been able to collect such an impressive set of early works by up-and-coming artists.

I’ve always been very interested in seeing how the history and lifestyles of creators reflected in their art, so I was enthusiastic about the very localized information that the curator passed on. What I most took away from the visit was learning about The Artist’s Club, its rules, its mantra, its hangout spots, and its eventual downfall. This trip has prompted another trip - one to the Village to explore the hole-in-the-wall spots the Club called its own and incorporated into its art. Hopefully, this process will navigate me to gaining a sense of direction in Washington Square Park’s realm of artistic influence. This following of clues to further sites is the true purpose of researching because it allows us to get a wider grasp on an historic setting. I have a feeling this may be a reoccurring theme this semester.

Morgan

Sitting in JP Morgan Junior’s music room, I thought about how angry they would be. Those Village-ites of bygone days, the ones who climbed to the top of the Arch (our arch?) and claimed a “free and independent republic of Washington Square.” Here I was, marveling over clips of “The Raven” and works by Henry James, and hearing about how unfortunately I was not going to be able to see Bob Dylan’s notebooks, in a decadent room with double doors in a stunning mansion. A banking fortune bought Bohemia! They would be angry. But, I was glad. Though the setting was slightly ironic, the Morgan Library is an institution devoted to claiming and protecting things that are culturally important. I was struck by how Dr. Kiely explained that the Morgan had no guidelines to what they purchase. Recent writings and ancient letters are given the same weight. The Morgan seems to really believe in the power of creating history.

I keep thinking about whether location leads to fame or fame leads to location. Did the Village just happen to draw all sorts of incredible writers, thinkers, and artists by chance? Or did writing in the Village make it easier to get published or become well-known? The Village as a place, and the Village as a people (no, not the "YMCA" kind...) are inseparable in history. It allowed for a crossing of so many great minds, as we saw by the letters we were shown, simple correspondence now deemed worthy of long-term preservation and exhibition. I am such a fan of letters. I write them, though I receive few back. It's so much easier to send a quick email or text message, but writing letters seems so much more sincere. Can you imagine how much people in a letter-writing era would have complained about our messy penmanship? I was disappointed when I found the letter Willa Cather wrote hard to read. I wanted to know what she said! If only it were size 12 Times New Roman... But her hand makes it hers.

The Importance of Seeing (and Touching) the Past: A Visit to the Met

There was something truly authentic about sitting in the Morgan Library’s study room, gazing curiously about at its gold foil border details, running my fingers across the familiar feel of the antique Persian rug upon which I kneeled, and sneaking an occasional glance towards the window, which revealed the cold, dreary world outside. The atmosphere took me away from the New York that I know, and into a sort of old-world secret society of writers. Not to mention, curator Dr. Declan Kiely’s British witticisms further added to the sense that I was a tourist in a suddenly foreign space.
Thus far, I have found that exploring different institutions throughout New York has sprung my inquisitiveness in unique ways, both visually and orally. Listening to quirky tidbits about the conversations and habits of writers like Oscar Wilde, Henry James and Edgar Allen Poe provided insight into how a writer’s lifestyle is reflected in his work. The group of featured artists especially found common interest in Washington Square Park throughout various decades, and it is fascinating to examine the very different impressions their environment left on their works.
I consider myself to be a writer, and so this trip was especially meaningful to me, as I walked away from the event with a sense of connectedness to my great predecessors and the different New Yorks they experienced. Seeing the crinkled letters, scrolls and manuscripts solidified the experience. It reminded me of my studies last year on Walt Whitman and how presentation, spacing, odd spelling and typeface were all significant, well thought-out components of Leaves of Grass. Kiely’s discussion of the value behind Poe’s leather-bound manuscript also exemplified that the publishing process was once infinitely more personalized and reflective of the writer’s style, rather than that of his representative publishing company as it is today.
After the talk, I took the time to investigate other collections at the Library including Irving Penn’s portraits of artists and writers like Tennessee Williams and Salvador Dali, and doodles and letters by Allen Ginsberg and Jack Kerouac. All this was very cool to see in person since it offered a link to these creators’ inner minds at specific moments, which articles and pictures online certainly could not have captured. Seeing these manuscripts allowed me to become engaged on a whole new level that focused on a more personal, intimate look at sources of inspiration, one that previously, I had generally dismissed as unnecessary and unremarkable. Now I am confident that I will use such archived documents in the future as useful tools of research and muse.
For an aspiring writer and avid reader, holding “The Raven” in my hands, scanning Poe’s original, fluid handwriting, and feeling the light weight of so monumental a work, is something I’ll remember for the rest of my life…. especially when I slyly slid my finger inside the protective slip, and brushed it across Poe’s signature for an extra spark of inspiration via osmosis. Of course, I couldn’t resist!

Half an Hour at the Met

Half an Hour at the Met

Wednesday, 30^th of January was the day we had scheduled a visit to the Met for the course “Life on the Square”. I was looking forward to see the Met again.

My first experience was 2 years ago when I had to accompany a friend who had to visit the Met for an assignment for college also. It was an interesting experience and I remember we spent a few hours inside. That was also my first visit to a museum in US. What captured my attention was the Egyptian exposition, with the pyramids.

The second visit was on a Wednesday, day on which usually I have a busy schedule at school: 3 courses, “Life on the Square” being the middle one. That is why; I knew my visit to the Met would be relatively short due to the fact that I had to run back to NYU for my last course of the day. So, after I finished the first course, Statistics, I took the train uptown. I remember I had the flu that day and uptown the wind was blowing hard and it was so cold. It was a struggle to walk from the subway station to the museum, a real fight between me and the powerful wind. When I finally arrived in front of the museum, I met my classmates who were waiting for our professor. Soon professor Alycia Smith-Howard arrived and she told us to group so we could take a picture. That was a very nice idea which took me by surprise and I really enjoyed it; it made me realize that although that was my second visit I had no pictures taken there. So, we took a nice group picture in front of the Met, on the stairs. Then we rushed inside where we met a young nice girl, who was enrolled at the graduate school at NYU and who was going to be our guide for that visit. The target for us was the Abstract Expressionism collection of paintings. I always liked to admire paintings, but the abstract ones gave me a new, unknown, deep feeling, wonderful and in the same time a confusing one. The abstract shapes seemed to have no organization but in the same time they could express so many things at ones; they astonished me and open my heart to a new interest in art. It seemed to me that the Abstract Expressionists' goal was a raw and impulsive art. What mattered were the qualities of the paint itself and the act of painting itself.

As American poet-critic Harold Rosenberg said in a famous Art News article of 1952:
"...the canvas was not a picture, but an event."

You can see more details about the collection visiting: http://www.metmuseum.org/toah/hd/abex/hd_abex.htm

One day I will certainly go back and spend more time in the Met, to explore all the expositions and absorb as much art and culture as I can.

Met

I will admit, I was not sure exactly quite what the genre “abstract expressionism” entailed before coming to the Met. I enjoy art immensely, but I will not claim to be any sort of scholar of art. Several of the artists’ names were familiar to me, others I recognized from similar works I have seen other places, and some were new. The Pollock struck me instantly. Undoubtedly, its placement was designed to do such. It was the first thing to focus on when you walked in the room. I saw a Pollock exhibit when I was younger, ten perhaps. I believe it was at the National Gallery in Washington, DC, but it may have been somewhere else. My mother had refused to go. She hates Jackson Pollock, and explains that his method of painting doesn’t create art, to her, but more of a crazy mess. I was disappointed by this work of his, for a fairly silly reason. As a younger child, I thought that his paintings were amazing because so many of them included junk from his studio layered between paint splatters. Cigarette butts and bits of trash were visible from close up, but got lost in the bigger picture. My brother and I ran from painting to painting trying to find all the hidden treasures.

The exhibition made me start to really consider how to define art. Why is a Pollock or a de Kooning worthy of hanging in a gallery around the corner from a Picasso or a Miró? Why is a Picasso painting widely accepted as art, when a stuffed calendar undoubtedly was laughed at hundreds of times before it graced the walls of the Met? I have no answers to these questions. I can’t help but wonder what artist who is being mocked today will grace the walls of the Met in fifty or one hundred years. I can guarantee though, someone will not consider it art.

The Met

I have been to the Metropolitan Museum of Art before, and I have seen many fine paintings and sculptures and drawings and architectural examples there, but I had never seen any works of abstract expressionism up close, let alone the Murial Newman abstract expressionism collection (I looked it up). It included works of the most famous artists of the genre, like Pollock, Rothko, and Louis. They were far more interesting to see when you're only inches away and they're right in your face, as opposed to seeing a picture of Jackson Pollock walking around on canvas or a piece on television or in a movie or on the internet. I'll be honest and say that I have a hard time being led around an art exhibit, so I wasn't all that excited about having a guide. So while wandering, the first major piece that caught my eye was an untitled work of Mark Rothko, a panel of a white rectangle positioned above a larger red rectangle. At the time, it was the only Rothko work that I was familiar with -- although I couldn't tell you where I saw it before. Frankly I was surprised to see it; I suppose, for whatever reason, I always think that a museum isn't going to contain an artist's better known works, in favor of more obscure or lesser-known pieces created in his or her "true genius" period. I stood before the Rothko and I wanted to reach out and brush my hand across it, but I looked to my right just in time to see a museum employee approaching and I thought better of it. I moved on to the Pollock work in the collection. It was a very large piece and filled most of the wall on which it hung. I noticed that it was intricately layered, an idea that I guess I hadn't ever thought of. Of course he didn't do that all at once, you idiot! It just made sense. Behind the wall with the Pollock stood a metal sculpture -- the original drawing of which was hung in the front of the room -- called "Firebird" that was very striking, and even a little disturbing. On the wall nearby was a puffy calendar of August that looked like something that you might be able to find on the street, if you were on a particularly excellent street. And finally, on the wall across from the calendar hung a huge, predominantly bare canvas, the corners streaked with smooth, solid-color magna paints. The work was by Morris Louis, and a little extra research showed me that a lot of his paintings looked like that, except with different colors, sometimes. I thought this was a very effective exhibit, and I was excited to get a look at some works that I probably wouldn't get a chance to see in person again.

Morgan Library

Prior to our visit this past Wednesday, I had never heard of or been to the Morgan Library. I knew nothing about it. The fact that it was in anyway even affiliated with J.P. Morgan hadn't even occurred to me until Declan Kiely mentioned it at the beginning of his presentation. The presentation struck me as engaging, and there was certainly an element of excitement in being able to hold a letter written by Edgar Allan Poe; to gloss over original manuscripts of Henry James' works; and to know that somewhere in a room just above or below me was Bob Dylan's notebook. Aside, however, from the discussion of why it is important and/or interesting for us to have these artifacts to besides just to "ooh" and "ah" at, I did not feel like I was going to come away with any new or really challenging ideas until the very end of the presentation.

Somewhere towards the end of Dr. Kiely's presentation - or, I should say, some time before I left, and it may have been after class was officially over or before - he took a moment to lament the fact that a physical community of creative minds like the one that existed around Washington Square and in the Village for a number of generations will (so he believes, and I agree) never come into being again. With modern communication technologies, a writer can work with an editor in an entirely different country. Musicians may sometimes record a track and send it overseas to an artist who they've never met who will lay down another track and subsequently send it off to a mixing engineer on another coast. It isn't that artists aren't collaborating, but that they are doing so less naturally. There is no longer any place or even any perceived need for a place where they are living almost exclusively amongst each other.

Arguably, there is still art being made of all kinds that is as good and better - no, more innovative - than the art that was coming out of the Square during its heyday as a center of creative output. Quality and memorability is not the issue. The issue is that most people our age who appreciate the Village for what is left of it as Manhattan's last toehold in the realm of American Bohemia, myself included, are entertaining nostalgia for something we've never seen and never will see. I have believed, at times, that I am seeing it, and that the claims that it is not even close to what it was come from jaded critics. There is certainly something there, but the difference, as I see it, is that Washington Square, when it really was what people still tend to think of it as, was both a microcosm of and the foundation of a culture that defined a generation.

With the advent of the internet and the ability for anyone and everyone to express themselves for the world to hear and see comes a new trend that is both fantastic and a little dispiriting: today's expressive culture is a culture of subcultures, and is thus defined by its generation, rather than defining it. Dr. Kiely points out that the predominance of electronic communications hampers our ability to keep track of the big players. Furthermore, it is impossible to even say who the big players are, because to anyone whose subculture is explicitly and incorrigibly removed from the mainstream, the "big players" are a side story.

I realize that I've digressed entirely from a reflection about our visit itself, but this little miniature essay is sort of a snapshot of what I thought about afterwards and what I got out of Dr. Kiely's presentation. I think it is an interesting thing to consider, especially in the context of the endless pages of literature that one can we read (some of which we've been reading) on the many ways in which the Village is always being refaced.

--Jonny

Morgan Reflection

I have always been a fan of the Morgan museum. I like the smaller more personal New York museums like the Morgan and the Tate. I recently saw the amazing exhibit of Irving Penn’s photographs there and loved the way it was set up and flowed. I wasn’t sure what to expect by going there as a class and was very excited when Delcan met us at the private entrance and whisked us away like VIPS to see private Poe artifacts.

The Poe artifacts were definitely my favorite part of the trip. I loved seeing the Poe letter! I think of Poe as such a intrinsic part of the New York experience, especially around Washington Square. I remember when I applied to NYU learning about Poe holding salons around the square and reading his stories to exclusive groups of New Yorkers he would invite.

I do wish we could have seen some of the Kerouac artifacts, especially since we are reading On The Road right now. I love Kerouac and really want to go back sometime to see them, although it certainly will not be as interesting without Delcan giving us a private tour!

The Met/ The Morgan

Besides the amazing abstract paintings we saw at the Met, the thing that stood out to me the most was something Marcy told us at the very beginning of her lecture. She said that the entire collection of paintings we were looking at all belonged to a middle class woman from Chicago. Today that would be impossible; the price tag on the Pollok alone would be in the million never mind the other incredible price tags that would be on Miro and Kooning’s works. To own such a collection today you would probably have to be a large corporation or large business entity.
Pollok is such an amazing artist. So many dismiss his work as random brush strokes and splatters of paint, when in reality every drop of paint, every single line and movement was meticulously thought out. Organized methodical chaos if you will. As I stared at the painting all I could think about was the fact that this average woman owned it and that if it was sold today only an incredibly wealthy individual or a giant corporation would be able to afford it. I thought about how Jackson Pollok would feel about and decided he probably wouldn’t like some giant corporation owning his work. A work that was so revolutionary at the time, trying to break out of the boring mold art had fallen into.
This then brought me back to the park, where Pollok and his fellow artists lived, worked, and breathed. Washington Square Park has always inspired artists and writers to be creative and challenge the norm or the ideal. I wonder how Kerouac, Poe, Ginsberg, and Pollok would feel about the city taking over the Park and spending millions of dollars to move a fountain 10 feet. It’s as if “the man” has taken over the park, a sanctuary of freedom of thought and creative passion. They would probably be upset, and as many of the other village inhabitants, realize that the money could have been used to improve the park in many other ways, such as keeping it clean and safe or somehow preserving it’s history/ keep the history going.
Of all the incredible letters and documents Dr. Declan Kiely showed us at the Morgan Library, the most magnificent by far was the Edgar Allen Poe scroll. As I looked at the hand written scroll on multiple pieces taped together, my mind went immediately to the Jack Kerouac scroll that was actually just purchased by the owner of the Colts football team. Kerouac wrote on the scroll as a form of spontaneous prose. He wanted it to flow without artificial editing into chapters. However, let’s be honest, no one has written on scrolls as a daily practice for a couple of centuries now. However I really liked this idea of looking to the past as something new and different in the future. When Kerouac wrote his scroll it was a different way of writing, evoking the past to make a statement in the future. When you think of things written on scrolls in the past you think of important legal documents or decrees from the king. One of the most famous scrolls ever, the Torah in the Jewish religion. Now I’m not saying that Kerouac was placing his work on the same level as the Torah, but it is interesting how the past can play into the future.
-Catherine Gargan

MET Reflection

I think the abstract expressionist exhibit at the MET was a very well done interesting exhibit. I saw it once on my own before we went with the class, and once again afterwards, although unfortunately both of those times I did not get to go with a tour guide and I just explored by myself. The exhibit was very well done, and I enjoyed the way the collection worked well together. I did not realize until we went as a class that the whole exhibit was owned by one person. It was The Muriel Kallis Steinberg Newman Collection, and I was blown away by the idea of a woman having all these amazing works of art in her own house.
I am a big fan of 20th Century art and had seen many pieces by the artists before. I still think the best setup I’ve ever seen of Jackson Pollack’s work was at the Tate Modern in London where they have actual videos of him making the works of art. I particularly liked the Miro “Circus Horse” and the Gorky because of their colors. I really liked the set up in the small area- everything seemed to flow and I felt very comfortable moving from one work of art to the next.
What I think I learned from going to this exhibit in the context of the class, is the unbelievable impact these paintings had on American society. Although I do consider myself an art history student, and hopefully one day a true art historian, I tend not to think of these works of art as being as groundbreaking as they truly were. I grew up with the knowledge that art like this is true fine art. However when it was being made in the beatnik area of the village, and Pollack even painted in the park, it was thought of as strange and not a high class of art. It’s amazing to see the change that occurred that these works are now on display in high regard at one of the world’s best museums.

The Met

Although I could only stay for about an hour, I was able to cram in a lot of information at one time thanks to the small space and the speed of our curator's voice. I have been in that room before however, I did not know what the importance and relationship most of these artists had to Washington Square. It was fascinating hearing about the rejected artists forming their own club; meeting at a location I pass through almost everyday.

I am not very knowledgeable in modern art. Unlike Renaissance art and Impressionism, I do not know the stories behind most pieces of Modern Art. I had never heard of automatic drawing seen in the pieces by Matta, and I did not know that he influenced many people and held sessions of this type of drawing. What I was looking for was the connection between the modern artists and Washington Square. Yes, I knew that Washington Square was home to many creative minds, but why did they choose to flock there? Jackson Pollock's piece was another amazing piece of work. He stepped outside the boundaries of what was conventional and dripped latex house paint over his canvas without a conceived outcome in mind. I had never been exposed to modern art in this fashion with someone by my side telling me the back story of what was going on at that time in Washington Square Park.

Reaction: The Morgan Library Museum

I had never heard of the Morgan Library Museum, and when we arrived I thought that we were going to take a tour of the house to learn about J.P. Morgan’s life. I was happily delighted to discover that, instead, we got to see some of the amazing archival documents that the museum had to offer. Declan’s description of the pieces he showed us, such as the Poe letters and the Woody Allen manuscript, also really supplemented the learning experience.

My favorite items that Delcan showed us were probably the Poe letters. I haven’t read much Poe, but it was amazing to see the handwriting and letter style of such a famous literary figure; it was especially fascinating because we got to see the editing process for one of his most famous poems, The Raven, which, as a writer, was a great experience.

Though we didn’t get to see it, I would also be interested in going back to the museum to see the Kerouac artifacts they have. I went to the NYPL Kerouac Exhibit a few months ago and loved it, so I’d really like to see what the Morgan Library has in regards to beat literature.

-Jessica Roy