Photos by Peter Brownscombe
A moment from the annual St Patrick's Day (night) gathering at Casey Rubber Stamps ... a tradition at the shop here on 11th Street between First Avenue and Second Avenue...
John Casey, an Irishman with a thick brogue who’s been making rubber stamps since the Carter administration, thinks the problem with the world today is that people don’t get their hands dirty anymore. His remedy? Stamps.
"Stamps are different to images on a screen. They’re tactile," Casey explains. "You can sit in front of the computer all day but you never get your fingers wet. Your hands don’t get covered in ink. With stamps, you can make a mess and get it all over the place."
People from all walks of life meander into his cramped East Village store to peruse the little eccentric stamps. Using red rubber, a Vulcanizer and wooden blocks, Casey’s is one of the only places left that makes novelty stamps the old-fashioned way.
"What do people do with these stamps?" Casey asks. "How the hell do I know? That’s exactly the point. People come in and say, 'What can I do with this?' It doesn’t matter. Buy it because you like it. You’ll figure it out later."
“Landlords will kill you,” Casey says, chuckling. He has had a few run-ins with his landlady this past years, but that’s all sorted out now. “Bureaucracies will kill you. Typical hates of any small business.”
The rising rents are certainly a cause of concern for Casey, but the small-business owner, who learned most of what he knows on his own, hopes to stick around. Despite the headaches of running a small business, Casey can’t imagine closing down or selling out, even if someone walked in and offered to buy it at a good price.
“Why would I? What am I going to do? It’s like winning the lottery,” he says. “What would I do tomorrow morning? Get new friends?”
The walls of his narrow shop — which doubles as his workshop — on 11th Street in Manhattan are lined with myriad stamps ranging from whales to peas-in-a-pod, spider webs, shells, guns, teeth, the Manhattan skyline and even that most fearsome creature: the bed bug. About half his business comes from selling pre-made stamps that range from $3 to $15. The other half is custom designs that customers request or bring in.
Rubber stamping is a simple technology that dates back about 150 years — and to judge from the operation at this tiny store, it really hasn't changed that much.
The walls of his narrow shop — which doubles as his workshop — on 11th Street in Manhattan are lined with myriad stamps ranging from whales to peas-in-a-pod, spider webs, shells, guns, teeth, the Manhattan skyline and even that most fearsome creature: the bed bug. About half his business comes from selling pre-made stamps that range from $3 to $15. The other half is custom designs that customers request or bring in.
Rubber stamping is a simple technology that dates back about 150 years — and to judge from the operation at this tiny store, it really hasn't changed that much.