Writer Greg Masters revisits the 1980s East Village gallery scene

[Artist Larry Rivers in his 14th Street loft. Photo by Barry Kornbluh, from the book "For the Artists"]

Longtime East Village resident Greg Masters recently compiled the book "For the Artists: Critical Writing, Volume 1," which chronicles the neighborhood's burgeoning gallery scene in the 1980s. At the time, Masters was writing for a number of publications. This collection includes interviews with Rudy Burckhardt, Sandy Skoglund and Larry Rivers, among others, as well as reviews of museum and gallery shows from that time period.

We asked Masters a few questions about the project as well as his feelings about the East Village of 2014.

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How did you go about selecting the essays/interviews for Volume I? Were you looking for a common thread among the subjects?

This first volume of my critical writing focuses on visual art on display in Manhattan in the 1980s. For ARTS Magazine I made the rounds of the galleries on 57th Street primarily showing established artists. For Cover magazine, I wrote reviews and artist profiles covering the East Village scene – when 70 or so galleries suddenly sprung up in this neighborhood.



I enjoyed responding to the mix of recognized artists uptown and then also championing the work of less-established artists downtown whose work I felt was deserving of public recognition. The range of work was disparate – money and class uptown, plus the fervent energy of dedicated practitioners of the arts here below 14th Street – but a sense of community united it all, a clubhouse for those possessed of a proclivity for the creative.

I have a Volume 2 in manuscript that gathers my essays on books and music – from extended essays on Miles Davis, William Wordsworth and William Carlos Williams to interviews with Richard Hell – written over the past 25 or so years for various publications and websites. I plan to issue that soon.

Anything in particular surprise you about the materials when you went back to revisit the work for the book?

Not really. I believe the writing holds up. I'd been mainly a poet and short-story writer when I began writing art criticism. There was a precedent of poets doing this going back at least as far as Baudelaire. More recent precedents for me were Ted Berrigan and John Ashbery, though it was poet Edwin Denby's dance criticism and the painter Fairfield Porter's art criticism that were my real models. It was a way to reach a broader audience than the 20 or so friends who showed up for poetry readings. It also gave me an entrance into journalism.

Has this project made you nostalgic for this particular time and place?

Maybe a bit of nostalgia for my youth. It certainly documents an era when it was cheap enough to live in Manhattan that artists of all sorts could devote more time to their work, and we were all young enough to spend a lot of time together – showing up at each other's art openings, readings, performances, beds. The East Village was especially vibrant.

[Photo of East 7th Street by Cactusbones via Flickr]

Between the burnt-out buildings, oppressive political environment and the winters in tenements with no heat and hot water there was a lot of collaboration and support and socializing among the painters, sculptors, filmmakers, poets, dancers, writers, musicians and unclassifiable creative types.

You've been on the LES since 1975. Obviously there have been enormous changes... what, however, remains the same about the East Village in your estimation?

Well, physically the scale is still charming. It still has the feel of a village. It's still enjoyable to walk around here. There are not a lot of buildings higher than five or six stories and there's still remnants of the ethnic diversity that so enlivened the experience of living here. Certainly the nature of the shops and the demographic has changed. It's safer. I'm still getting acclimated to the idea that when walking down the block I don't have to look over my shoulder.

Q-and-A with Amy Nicholson, director of 'Zipper: Coney Island's Last Wild Ride'

"Zipper: Coney Island's Last Wild Ride" examines the greed and politics that have helped gut the neighborhood. The film centers on Eddie Miranda, the Zipper's operator who, despite turning profits, was forced to shut down after 38 years of operation.

Director Amy Nicholson's film also includes an interview with developer Joe Sitt, whose rezoned-to-death vision is turning the neighborhood "into a chain store wasteland," as the Observer put it.

"Zipper" has been on the film festival circuit, and now receives a week-long theatrical release starting Friday at the IFC Center on Sixth Avenue. While the documentary focuses on Coney Island, Nicholson explores issues that are being experienced in other NYC neighborhoods.

Here, she answers a few questions about the film and the ongoing march of luxurification throughout the city.

When we last talked, you had a slot at the First Time Fest 2013 in the East Village. How does it feel to get a theatrical release now at IFC?

I feel so lucky and I keep thinking someone is going to call and take it all away. It’s kind of unreal. I couldn’t be more excited.


[Via the "Zipper" Facebook page]

What do you think makes a place like Coney Island so special?

There’s something magical about carnival atmosphere. It’s pure fun. All the lights and noises and people screaming and everything moving and the smells from the food ... Then you combine all that with a beach and you add in all those sounds and smells and it’s just heaven.

But what makes Coney Island so special is that it has a very rich history of being a place where people can come and blow off steam, let it all hang out. You can scream, dance, eat a hot dog, eat some candy, wear whatever you want, act freaky, look at something freaky, be amazed, be scared — it’s all there. And all are welcome.

Does Coney Island still feel special to you? Or is it starting to become Anywhere On a Beach USA?

Something big is missing now and I really think it left along with some of the people who were displaced with the rezoning. Coney Island’s history isn’t just baked into the place, it is baked into the people who are down there. They grew up there and they could tell you stories that a kid in corporate khakis and a polo shirt can’t.

I also think it has lost some of its aesthetic value. So much of the great hand painted signage was literally just thrown out. Why did Paul’s Daughter on the boardwalk have to be “cleaned up?” That was one of the most photographed buildings in the world! And then there’s the new carousel building, which is trying way to hard to be fun with those big kooky letters. I don’t know — it all just seems off.

You were at the last day of Big Nick's on July 28. What closures around the city have been particularly painful for you to see?

Colony Records, Joe’s Dairy, The Rawhide, Max Fish... In my neighborhood [Greenwich Village] in the past three years alone we’ve lost Joe Jr’s, The Food Emporium, Groom-o-rama Pet Shop, Jefferson Market, which, as we speak, is being transformed into the Rudin Sales Office for Greenwich Lane – the ultra-luxury condo, maisonette and townhouse development going up on the former St. Vincent’s Hospital site. They’re advertising the “discretion” their new residents will enjoy, whatever that means.

These closings are all so painful. And in their places we see an explosion of banks, frozen yogurt chains, cellphone stores – all the businesses that can afford the astronomical rents.

Do you see any end to the chaining of NYC?

Not yet. My husband and I talk about this all the time. It will only end when those businesses have no customers and the landlords realize that they can no longer charge those rents that moms and pops can’t touch. We’re talking about a very long process to try and undo what has been done.

Nearly six years went into making "Zipper." Do you have another documentary subject in the works?

Not yet. But I have a few ideas. First I am going to sleep and save some money.


Zipper Trailer

Find more about the movie here. Find IFC showtimes here.

EV Grieve Q-and-A recap

On this summer Friday, we're revisiting some of the Q-and-As that we've done with various filmmakers, artists, writers, bikes, etc., through the years. They are presented below in no particular order, except for the last one, which should be last.


[Lydia Lunch]

Lydia Lunch, underground legend, town crier

John Linnell, 1/2 of They Might Be Giants

John Hokmstrom, founding editor, Punk Magazine

Leonard Abrams, publisher of the East Village Eye


[Sylvain Sylvain, left, and David Johansen in 2006]

Sylvain Sylvain, New York Doll

Nick Zedd, filmmaker, artist, writer

Penny Pollak, fire-breathing East Village actress and writer


[John Holmstrom, left, and friends]

Anonymous, author of 'Diary of an Oxygen Thief'

Robert Sietsema, food writer

Fly, activist, squatter, artist

Michael Dominic, director of 'Sunshine Hotel'

Mickey Leigh, musician

Victoria Linchong, writer, actor, director

Curt Hoppe, artist

[Céline Danhier]

Marc H. Miller, founder of Ephemera Press, 98Bowery.com

Brian Rose, photographer

Jessie Auritt, filmmkaer

Andrew Kotliar, festival director for Kinofest NYC

Céline Danhier, director, "Blank City"

Unknown bike, iconic symbol of the 2010 Holiday Blizzard

Q-and-A with Lydia Lunch, underground legend, town crier

No Wave force of nature Lydia Lunch is the iconic singer (Teenage Jesus and the Jerks, 8-Eyed Spy, Big Sexy Noise), poet, writer and actress. She also recently added cookbook author to her résumé. (Read more about that project here.)

And you'll soon have several chances to see the underground legend here. On May 30, Lunch hosts "an evening of spoken word in the raw" at the Pyramid on Avenue A titled Don't Hide the Madness. It's a benefit for Howl! Emergency Life Project. The night before, she'll be playing with her RETROVIRUS lineup at the Bowery Electric.

Lunch, who lives these days in Barcelona, spoke with EVG correspondent Stacie Joy before her return to the East Village.

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Over the years you’ve had many labels. Singer, poet, actor, writer. Sex-positive rebel. Humanist. Confrontationalist. All still applicable?

Hey, thanks for leaving out some of the less flattering things I’ve been called! It all still pertains. Rebellious — yes. Sex-positive? Not so sure I’ve been labeled with that tag. In both the early Richard Kern films and much of the early spoken word and music, I was exploring the darker side of sexual obsession. Female predation. The Willing Victim Syndrome. Violent female urges. Revenge. Against the Father, God the Father, The Father of the Country. Or as I like to say, what is a father but a motherfucker?

But no matter what format I use to illustrate the issues I think need to be explored at the moment, whether it’s spoken or written word, music or even a photograph, I’ve always viewed myself more as a town crier, a hysterian ... a journalist in a sense — documenting a specific moment in history be it my own or the politics of the time in order to make sense of and empower one’s self out of life in the traumazone.

What stood out to you about New York City when you first arrived here from Rochester in the 1970s? What’s changed since then?

Rochester was pretty scuzzy, but New York was a magnificent wreck. It was grimy, dark, scarred and the crime rate was outrageous. Between the mafia, the dopers, the drug dealers, the arson and the muggings it was pretty fricking Grand Guignol. I had an advantage, though. I was fearless. Nobody ever even thought of preying on me. You can’t con a con. I felt right at home. I spent a lot of time perfecting petty street hustles. Pure instinctual survival mechanics put to good use.

I can’t speak about New York now. You tell me. I was here from ’76-81. In LA from ’81-82, London for two years, came back to New York and began curating a lot of spoken word shows, often at the Pyramid, stayed for a few ripe years during The Cinema of Transgression, post no-wave music scene of Sonic Youth and the Swans, etc., then left for good in 1990 for New Orleans, San Francisco, Pittsburgh, LA again to work with Hubert Selby and Jerry Stahl and left the States in 2004 when Bush stole the second election.

I’ve been living in Barcelona ever since. A country that was 40 years out of fascism as America went into what we now know is a police state. I can’t support myself as an artist in this country or even begin to find the proper venues to do all the different types of live performances I have the opportunities to do in Europe.

Do you have any advice for emerging artists?

Leave the country as soon as possible!

You were once quoted as saying, "I would be humiliated if I found out that anything I did actually became a commercial success." Does that still hold true today?

It's not a fear I need to entertain.

How can people support you and your work today? What’s next for Lydia Lunch?

I’ll be doing RETROVIRUS May 29 at Bowery Electric. A retrospective of sorts of my music from Teenage Jesus forward featuring Algis Kisyz (Swans) Bob Bert (Sonic Youth, Pussy Galore) and the indefatigable Weasel Walter. Really hot cock rock! My band Big Sexy Noise will release a double LP in September and the list goes on.

St. Mark's Place is dead! Long live St. Mark's Place!

[Window Shade Repairman, St. Marks Place, New York, 1938, by Joe Schwartz. Via Stephen Cohen Gallery]

Ada Calhoun is a freelance journalist working on a narrative history of St. Mark's Place. Last September, Calhoun sold the book, titled "St. Marks Is Dead," to W.W. Norton. Calhoun has her own narrative history of St. Mark's — she was born and raised on the block between Second Avenue and First Avenue in the mid-1970s and 1980s.

The book is due at the publisher next spring, and she is looking for some help.

Per the Facebook events page:

My goal is to track down the best stories, photographs, and historical documents related to the street. I've been going through archives and conducting a few interviews a week, but I know I'm only scratching the surface. In the interest of efficiency, I'd like to invite anyone with St. Marks-related stories or pictures to share to drop by the lovely Neighborhood Preservation Center on March 10th, anytime between 12 and 4, for a St. Marks Place story-gathering event.

ST MARKS STORY DAY
Sunday, March 10 from 12-4
Neighborhood Preservation Center
232 East 11th Street, Buzzer #1
(Near St. Mark's Church)
Snacks provided!

I recently spoke with Calhoun about the book, and what it was like growing up on the block.

"I didn't know any different. I thought it was totally normal. I was used to stepping over bodies walking down the street or being offered drugs every five steps," she said. "I did have this experience when I went to visit cousins in Ohio when I was 11 years old. They had a kiddie pool in the backyard and we went to a drive-in movie theater. And we got root beer floats, which I never had before. I came back fuming at my parents. I was like, What the fuck — you never told me any of this! I felt totally deprived!"

The book will explore the history (going back to the 17th century) and mythology of the street. So far she has talked with more than 100 people about the block and its meaning to them.

Any common themes emerging so far?

"The thing that I kept running into [were] people saying that there was this golden moment on the street when St Mark's was really itself and reached its full promise on this date and for these five years there was no better place in the entire world. It was the heart of culture — the center for music, art and poetry," she said. "People would describe passionately how it was so vibrant and they were so alive, then it died this horrible death."

For instance, Jack Kerouac biographer Joyce Johnson said that St. Mark's was all over in 1974 when someone flipped a cigarette into her son's stroller.

Another person Calhoun interviewed said that the scene died in 1974. Someone else said that all started in 1974. She also heard that the block reached its peak in 1978. Not to mention 1980. And so on.

"I'm really curious what's going on now. Basically my theory right now, based on doing this book, is that everyone was wrong. Everyone who thought it was dead was wrong," she said. "So people who think it's dead now are probably wrong too. My theory is that people coming out of karaoke bars or yogurt shops ... this is going to be some new wave of culture that we don't know about and won't even know about until it's over."

[St. Mark's Place on 2009, via the EVG files]

John Holmstrom on the CBGB movie and the East Village of 2013

In part 1 of our interview with John Holmstrom yesterday, the Punk Magazine founding editor talked about launching the publication with Ged Dunn Jr. and Eddie "Legs" McNeil that chronicled the burgeoning NYC punk scene and seeing the Ramones for the first time at CBGB in 1975.

Today, Holmstrom, who has lived in the East Village since the mid-1970s, discusses putting the recently released "Best of Punk Magazine" compilation together as well as his feelings about the neighborhood today.

Why did you think the time was right for "The Best of Punk Magazine" collection?

I didn't decide that the time was right — I had been trying to get this book done since the 1980s! I was able to get a small collection of Punk Magazine material together when I was the publisher at High Times, but we had no budget for promotion. So when it sold great in book stores regardless, I figured that a full-fledged collection could do well.

I shopped the proposal around in 2008, after trying to work with Legs on a similar project, which he seemed disinclined to make happen. He was too busy with other projects so I moved on. Then the economic meltdown happened and we couldn't shop the book proposal for a while. Then once it was accepted, I missed a few production deadlines because the whole thing was just so much damn work. I still feel burnt out from it all!

However, as in 1976, I seem to have accidentally brought the book out at the right time. There seems to be a resurgence of interest in all this stuff right now. Which is great, since I did worry that it was being forgotten forever, once again.



Was there a particular issue or feature that you enjoyed revisiting? Maybe something that you hadn’t looked at for some time?

Although I have pretty much memorized all the Punk Magazine material so it's imprinted on my brain forever and ever, I always loved "Mutant Monster Beach Party" the best — even though it sold poorly and became our death knell in a way.

In fact, the main reason I wanted to publish the book was to make this available to the public: MMBP but everything else as well. A lot of people kept bugging me to either reprint back issues or somehow make the material available: not everyone enjoys biding on eBay, I guess.

The most gratifying thing about getting this book out is that I have found out that a lot of people agree with me! They think that MMBP was our high point. At the time, no one made a big deal about it.



I understand that you did some consulting on the CBGB biopic. Depending on if you’ve seen any rough cuts or the final print — what are your thoughts on what you’ve seen?

Please help me quash this rumor: I did no consulting whatsoever on this film. I did meet with the filmmakers early on and showed them Punk Magazine, I might have loaned them a few issues. But they never really consulted with me about anything.

They did send me a film script and asked me for my thoughts but they pretty much ignored all of my suggestions — by that time it was much too late for them to make any significant script changes since they were filming in just a few weeks! It turns out that they had their own plans for me — they wanted to be able to use Punk in the movie, and I enjoyed their script so much I gave them permission to use the magazine however they wanted to. Then it turned out that they wanted to use Mary Harron, Legs and I as characters in the film. They even flew me down to watch the filming of the scenes with my character!

I thought the three actors: Peter Vack (portrays Legs), Ahna O'Reilly (playing Mary), Josh Zuckerman (playing me!), did an amazing job. I wanted to interrupt them during every scene and tell them how everything happened back in the day, but I knew that would be the height of unprofessionalism so I resisted the temptation. And after a while I observed how they were playing it in their own way and figured this was the best way for it to happen.

I did see a rough cut — the filmmakers again flew me to see it a few months ago. Naturally there's no way for me to have an objective opinion but I thought it was great. I loved it. The test screening audience also liked it: After the movie, they asked the 20-person focus group if they liked the film, and every single one of them raised their hand.

Of course, there was some nit-picking afterwards, and I think all nit-pickers will have a field day dissecting any and all mistakes that were made. But what no one can argue with is that the film is a funny and nice tribute to CBGB and the whole punk rock scene. Everyone wishes it could have been longer so it could include more people, but all you have is 90 minutes. So at the end, this is the story of CBGB, how Hilly started the club and how it sort-of accidentally became the home of punk rock.

The weird thing is that... back in the 1970s? It was not the "Home of Punk Rock." All those bands, except for maybe the Dead Boys, avoided that label like it was Poison or any other 1980s hair metal band's name.


[John Holmstrom, left, and friends]

What are your feelings about the East Village of 2013?

Like I have always felt about it: It's a nice place to live, but I wouldn't want to visit there.

I am lucky enough to have a cheap rent, thanks to rent-stabilization. On the other hand, if we didn't have it, I probably would have moved to Philadelphia or Detroit or someplace a long time ago. Even so, it's an expensive place to live.

The worst thing about this part of town is how NYU has displaced so many residents and businesses, and how so many laws, regulations etc. have been kicking the nightlife to the curb. All of Manhattan is becoming a huge, gated community.

I never felt all that unsafe living here, even when I was robbed a few times. So what's the difference when you get robbed a little bit every day by high prices for everything and having someone break into your apartment and steal something? Not much, really, except you can stop the break-ins but you can't stop the high prices. I always vote for the "Rent Is Too Damn High" guy, for instance.

But even he couldn't stop this. This is my main grievance with all politicians: They always take the credit or get the blame for social forces beyond their control. This economic problem happening all over the country — except for places like Detroit or Philadelphia where no one wants to live. But the 1970s were so wonderful because the publishing industry was still thriving, there was still a strong middle class, and even though the country was in a recession and New York was going bankrupt, we were still in much better shape than we are now. Sad, isn't it?

Then again, that's what New York's East Village was when I moved here. No one in their right mind wanted to live here.

Do you think NYC will ever see the spirit of that era again?

Nope.

First of all, the cell phone and social media have made everyone narcissistic; doctors are making people crazy with anti-depressants (which block creativity, so all the rebellious teenagers like me are now placed on meds!), and well, I could go on and on and on.

The worst thing to me is that I believe climate change is real, and I don't think the world is doing enough to stop it. Especially after Hurricane Sandy, I am afraid that by the end of this century, my beloved Manhattan Island will be submerged under many feet of water.

Hey — it's not like this is the first time civilizations have been submerged. Like Donavan sang: "Hail, Atlantis!"


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Find John Holmstrom's blog here.

Find the Punk Magazine site here.

Previously on EV Grieve:
Revisiting Punk Art

Q-and-A with John Holmstrom, founding editor of Punk Magazine

Q-and-A with Penny Pollak, the fire-breathing East Village actress and writer

[Bobby Williams]

Last Wednesday, we posted photos that peter radley and Bobby Williams took of a woman breathing fire in Tompkins Square Park... turns out that this was Penny Pollak, the East Village-based (occasional fire-breathing) actress and writer who also hosts Penny's Open Mic Tuesday nights at Under St. Mark’s Theater.

We thought that this would be an opportune time to talk with Pollak, who also recently started a travelogue performance blog of sorts, about fire breathing. And other things.

How long have you been breathing fire (if that is the correct term for it)?
About 7 or 8 years ago a friend of mine mentioned he needed another firebreather to do gigs with, and having never even seen someone breathe fire, I obviously volunteered. He taught me how to do it and all of a sudden I’m hurling flames outside of dungeons-and-dragons events in rural Pennsylvania.

What were you rehearsing for this particularly afternoon?

I got a call from a casting director for a WWF commercial that morning asking me if I can actually breathe fire or is just on my resumé. I told him I could send him a video audition by that evening, so I grabbed some kerosene and a lighter then hit Tompkins Square Park. It’s been several years since I’ve done it but turns out it’s just like riding a bike… except with fire.

Several people sent me photos of the fire breathing that day in the Park. Did you feel as if you were receiving a lot of attention?

It’s funny, I didn’t really notice. But that’s the thing about the East Village — nothing seems out of place. A girl breathing fire in the Park is just another Tuesday in the neighborhood. Also I was just really concentrating on getting the biggest flames I could on film without setting my hair on fire. But now that I think about it, I should have put on a hat.

What is the secret to successful fire breathing?

Don’t set yourself on fire.

Penny’s Open Mic is now in its sixth year at Under St. Mark’s Theater. How have you seen this evening continue to evolve?

The great thing about the show is that it’s constantly evolving. Tons of new performers every week and really talented regulars are always there to grace the stage. It’s a wonderful mix of a little bit of everything. Being in a theater I think inspires people to be more theatrical and take bigger risks with their art. I love that every show I never know what to expect which keeps me on my toes and having fun.

Q-and-A with Leonard Abrams, publisher of the East Village Eye

[The first issue of East Village Eye in May 1979]

Marc H. Miller recently passed along word about the latest edition to Gallery 98, the online store for the 98 Bowery website.

Miller has obtained a nearly complete set of the East Village Eye, the influential arts newspaper/magazine hybrid that published 72 issues from May 1979 through January 1987.

So I thought this might be an opportune time to interview Leonard Abrams, who was 24 when he started the Eye in early 1979. With an array of unpaid contributors, including Richard Hell, Cookie Mueller, Glenn O’Brien and David Wojnarowicz, the Eye wrote about the neighborhood's emerging art scene as well as provided ample music coverage.

His post-Eye career included opening Hotel Amazon, which brought warehouse-style parties to a former LES school featuring, among many others, De La Soul, Public Enemy and the Beastie Boys.

Today, Abrams lives in Williamsburg. In recent years he made the documentary "Quilombo Country" narrated by Chuck D about a community founded by escaped slaves in Brazil. Meanwhile, he has been working on publishing the entire Eye archive online in searchable PDFs accessible for free. ("This is imminent," he says.)

You were 24 when you launched the Eye in 1979. Being pretty young, were there any issues with people taking you seriously as a publisher at the onset?

People thought I was older. Then after the Eye folded they thought I was younger. Actually at the time a lot of people in the scene pretended they were younger so as not to be thought of as hippie interlopers.

But as I recall, there was such a feeling of newness to what we were doing that no one seemed to feel they could pull rank on the basis of age. And finally, I think that people take longer to get going these days. 24 isn't really that young. I started a paper in Denver when I was 21. That was young.

Did it seem as if you were onto something special at the time with the Eye?

Oh yes. I really felt the weight of it at times. In fact I probably would have pulled the plug a lot earlier but that I felt it was too important not to keep doing it. It's not that we were saving lives [we probably cost a few] but just helping sustain an atmosphere where people could feel so much was possible was very important. And feeling we were remapping the brain was heady, as it were.

What was a typical scene like at the Eye office?

We started at 167 Ludlow then moved to I think 54 East 3rd Street then to 120 St. Marks Place then to 605 East 9th Street then to 611 Broadway. A typical scene was me fighting with music editor and typesetter Celeste-Monique Lindsey over something political and/or inconsequential, people coming in for their mail or to pick up a copy, us on the phone trying to get everyone to hand in their stories on time even though they were writing for free and, the last week of the month, a frenzy of editing, typing and pasting-up.

Kind of stuff that seemed more fun after it was over.

[The Eye staff circa 1985, courtesy of Leonard Abrams]

Do you think something like the East Village Eye could work today (print or online) or do you think the days of any kind of scene here are long over?

I really don't know. Today it's so easy to communicate that it's almost like the communication takes the place of the action. Mind you, we were mostly communicating about communication anyway, but still...

The physical limitations of distribution make a difference too. We sent the Eye out all over the country [in a limited way], but I think text is taken more seriously 1) when you have to pay for it and 2) when there isn't so much of it around.

Still, the kind of scene there was at the time was based on a lot of people doing things out of their own need for self-expression, and now, at least in New York, we have a regime in which hierarchy and monetization, the antitheses of creativity, are the starting points. Thus we need to convince Mayor Bloomberg to immolate himself. While we wait for that to happen, someone should step up and print something.

How about Hotel Amazon? Do you think a space like that could work today on the Lower East Side?

I'd like to see one. Especially since a lot of the spaces in the neighborhood are staffed by clueless snotnoses. But what do you expect? It's the club industry. When Hotel Amazon started I was fairly clueless myself, I was just lucky to be around when hip hop was fresh and generating tons of great acts all the time. The other problem is the great increase in legalism and regulation. The Hotel Amazon was illegal in all kinds of ways. Otherwise it would never have happened. But look at Rubulad. They still manage to throw a bash.

What are you most proud of with the Eye?

I'm most proud of having gotten so many of them out. And hearing someone say something like "I moved to NY because I read the Eye in my home state." I was gratified to have published columns by David Wojnarowicz and Glenn O'Brien and Cookie Mueller and Richard Hell. And to have been told that the term "hip hop" was first printed in the Eye. And to have presented so many idiosyncratic voices in such a deadpan manner, as if what they said was as obvious as the weather. That was fun.

[East Village Eye covers courtesy of Marc H. Miller and 98 Bowery]

For further reading on EV Grieve:
Life at 98 Bowery: 1969-1989

Revisiting Punk Art

Q-and-A with Anonymous, author of 'Diary of an Oxygen Thief' — and East Village resident

"Diary of an Oxygen Thief" was a darkly humorous, self-published autobiographical novel from 2006 about a philandering advertising executive who was also your basic alcoholic and misogynist.

Anonymous is back with "Chameleon On A Kaleidoscope," a sequel of sorts in which the protagonist returns, though this time he is finding his thrills as an online sex addict.

The book, released earlier in the year on Kindle, is available as a hard copy starting next week. (Find more information about both books here.)

Turns out that Anonymous lives in the neighborhood. So via email, we asked Anonymous a few questions about the new novel, self-publishing and life in the East Village.

While writing "Diary of an Oxygen Thief," were you already looking ahead to a second novel picking up where this one left off?

My original intention was to write a book that felt like somebody’s diary. I wanted to give the reader the impression they were eavesdropping. But of course a diary has no finite ending and so it became obvious that there would be a second. That’s when "Chameleon On a Kaleidoscope was born. And now I’m already working on a third in the series; a prequel to "Diary Of An Oxygen Thief." Collectively they’re known as "The Oxygen Thief Diaries."

As a writer, do you envision continuing to remain Anonymous?

Being anonymous is part of the story. I love that there’s no cheesey photo on the backcover and that we don’t have to hear about how the writer lives in Connecticut or San Francisco or Brooklyn or wherever with his two dogs and a cat. Fuck all that. In this case the story is the hero.

Also writing anonymously allows me to inhabit the reader more effectively. Because we can’t Google anyone we’re forced to make up our own minds about what’s happening in the narrative. It actually makes for a more satisfying experience.

What is your top advice for someone considering self-publishing his or her work?

My best advice to a self-published writer is to try to say something that established publishers can’t or won’t. This way your content and marketing merge into one.

How long have you lived in the East Village?

I’ve lived here altogether now for about 10 years — with a break of three years when I moved to Amsterdam. Mostly I love it. I’ve always wanted to live here and I‘m very lucky to have found a rent-controlled building that welcome the likes of me. The area around Tompkins Square is my favorite place in the world. The Helmholtzplatz in Berlin is a close second but only because it reminds me so much of Tompkins Square Park.

Do you have a favorite place to write here? Are you able to accomplish much sitting at, say, a café or a library?

I’m not sure I’m socially equipped to sit in a cafe these days. And I don’t just mean emotionally. Mind you it might just be laptop-envy on my part. But when I do venture out, one of my favorite places is Café Pick Me Up on Avenue A and 9th Street. Perfect for people-watching or more honestly, girl-watching.

Most of my writing is extracted in private in a darkened corner of my fur-lined lair. In fact, writer seems far too pleasant a verb to describe what I do; word-worrier is more accurate.

Do you think the East Village provides a nurturing/creative atmosphere for artistic endeavors? Do you find inspiration here?

The East Village as a neighborhood and my building in particular have been hugely influential in my being able to write fulltime. I’m lucky enough to live in a rent-controlled HDFC that welcomes only artistic tenants so that’s certainly a nurturing environment and since a local woman was murdered in my apartment it came with inspiration ensuite. I can’t wait to write that story.

But let me answer the unasked question here. Yes. The East Village is still cool! I like to tease people from Park Slope and Williamsburg and Bushwick by saying I live a block away from Tompkins Square in West Brooklyn and let them figure it out.

Most overrated East Village eatery? Best cheap eats? Q-n-A with The Village Voice's Robert Sietsema

In a city full of food writers and restaurant critics, Robert Sietsema stands out as my favorite. Sietsema started at The Village Voice in 1993, and continues to be an adventurous writer who will delve into all sorts of genres and locations, from the latest Yemeni addition to Brooklyn's Atlantic Avenue to sampling the water melon with fish stomach in Chinatown's Fujianese neighborhood. He can be scholarly without sounding like an asshole. He can be downmarket without seeming as if he's slumming it with his artisanal buddies.

He's good for a rant too, such as his piece titled "Mayor Bloomberg's Jihad Against Salt." He's also particularly strong on the cheap eats front, and, well, I've discovered a lot of far-flung places thanks to his work.

Sietsema, who moved to NYC in 1977, answered a few questions for me via email on the East Village dining scene.

What new(ish) East Village restaurants are you particularly pleased with?
• Masak, a sleeper bistro on East 13th (Remember when the rents used to be depressed on 13th Street because nobody wanted to live there because of the number?) that serves a fancified Singaporean menu

[Masak]

• Sao Mai, one of the best Vietnamese cafes in the city, with killer pho

• Sabor A Mexico, a taqueria started by immigrants from Guerrero, with beer

[Sabor A Mexico]

• Il Buco Alimentari & Vineria, very nice small dishes, pleasant space, but a little pricey

• Mile End Sandwich, nice addition to the myriad sandwich possibilities in the East Village.

[Life Cafe from 2010]

Most overrated and underrated East Village restaurants?
The most overrated restaurant of all time was Life Café, which closed somewhat unceremoniously not too long ago. I ate there several times during its long existence — fueled by the musical "Rent" — and always had a bad meal. That kind of awful hippie cooking is now thankfully nearly gone from the nabe.

I think Veselka is also vastly overrated — and comparatively expensive, too. Not sure how it established its reputation, but a couple decades ago it was only one of over a dozen cheap Polish and Ukrainian places clustered on the avenues. Now most of them are gone and it remains. The food has always been decidedly lackluster, but maybe the late-night hours made it the place to hang.

Underrated? Lots of good Japanese food that gets ignored, some it rather formulaic, but often cheap. Natori and Sapporo East are two good old-timers with sushi much better than you’d expect, both historic refuges for cash-strapped daters.

Still mourn the loss of Vandaag, the only Dutch resto in town, and offering very nice food, the kind you make your parents pay for when they visit New York. Never got enough traction (that corner has been a problem for years), and the sandwich and bakery window they tried to install at the last minute in the back was pretty much a disaster.

Best cheap option in the East Village?
Downtown Bakery is a gem, not too comfortable but with great southern Mexican food. Ramen Setagaya is one of the city’s best noodle joints. Xi’an Famous Foods for some off-the-wall, anti-rice northern Chinese (with plenty of chiles).

I'm very fond of Stromboli’s, since it was the place I often went post-gig when I was a rock musician. You always bond permanently with the first pizza you try, and that was my first slice when I came to New York. The sauce is tangy and a little sweet. Hate the weird space they added on, though.

[Archival photo via]

How do you think East Village restaurants stack up against those in other neighborhoods these days?
The East Village is one of the 10 greatest restaurant neighborhoods in the city; it may be in the top 5. Lots of crappy little storefronts that, even today, are not as expensive as you might imagine, and become home to little ma-and-pa places.

Also good for mid-range bistro-level restaurants and even fine dining. A place where empires can be built, too, and filled with quirky food choices. Lots for vegetarians and carnivores alike, and every time you go around a corner, you see a new place. Japanese presence has long been a boon to the neighborhood, and the East Village also has its very own celebrity chefs. Enough restaurants crowded together there to fill a medium-size Midwestern City. And everyone eats out. Every meal.

Most annoying food trend?
For a long long time along with other neighborhoods in the city, the East Village was able to resist national franchises. I can remember when the McDonald’s on First Avenue was the only such franchise in the neighborhood.

But thanks to Bloomberg — who has no reverence for food culture and culture in general — and the rapacious landlords who are his most eager supporters, these franchises have been flooding the neighborhood in the last five years. Franchises pay employees nothing, source their foods out of state, and undersell small local restaurants. They must be resisted at all costs. And besides, the food they sell sucks.

Did I just see a Long John Silvers go in on First Avenue? Jeez!

[Photo by James Campbell Taylor]

What's your guilty food pleasure?
Egg cream at Gem Spa plus french fries at Pommes Frites

[Updated] Q-and-A with Michael Dominic, director of 'Sunshine Hotel'

In 1999, filmmaker-photojournalist Michael Dominic set out to document the residents at the Sunshine Hotel, one of the few remaining flophouses on the Bowery. He wanted to know more about the men who had been living there, in four-by-six-foot cubicles topped by a ceiling made of chicken wire, with no particular place to go.

Dominic's ensuing documentary, "Sunshine Hotel," released in 2001, received a slew of festival awards and played on the Sundance Channel. The independently funded film was recently released on DVD for the first time. On this occasion, Dominic answered a few questions via email for us.

Have you been back to the hotel in recent years? Have you received any updates about the people who you featured in the film?

I pass by the hotel all the time but haven't been inside since 2002. But I have kept track of the changes to the hotel and the area. As far as I know, none of the residents that I knew are still living there. Many I know for a fact have died. The owners have stopped allowing new tenants and there are only a handful living in one section of the building now. [Updated: Dominic has learned that two of the men in the film, Bruce Davis and Tyrone, are still living at the hotel.]

The sister of one of my subjects in the film named Vic contacted me recently. He died in 2006, but she only found him again after nearly 50 years through my film. She and her brothers were able to gain some sort of closure after a very long time of believing he was a missing person. It was a moving experience.

For you, what are the most profound changes of the Bowery during which the film is set and the Bowery of today?

The Bowery is ever changing. Now it's on an upswing. On the ground floor of the Sunshine Hotel there is a new restaurant and an art gallery. It looks like they're planning another restaurant as well on the corner. As soon as the last of the tenants leave the Sunshine, I'm sure that they will convert the buildings into luxury housing.

When I shot Sunshine Hotel back in 1999, the Bowery was already what I thought of as gentrified. But now, looking back, that wasn't anything. Certain parts have been completely rebuilt and there's really nothing left of the old strip as far as the goings on. There are expensive restaurants, hotels and apartment buildings — and there isn't a single actual flophouse on the Bowery anymore.

Is that a bad thing? Times change and probably a long strip of drunken homeless men running through the center of the Lower East Side isn't the best idea. Still, when I look at the Whole Foods on the corner of Bowery and Houston, it leaves a bad taste in my mouth.



The DVD release allows a new audience to experience the film. What would you like people to take away from "The Sunshine Hotel"?

People should remember what NYC was. They should remember it as something unique and beautiful, albeit seedy. We as a city have overdone it on clean-up. We have lost character. I hope that my film caught a little of the last of that era of New York, "when the Bowery was the Bowery."

[Nathan Smith, the hotel's manager]

Some 13 years later, what has stayed with you about making this film?

Nathan [Smith — the hotel's manager]. His friendship. He died 10 years ago, but rarely a day goes by that I don't think about him.

[Yesterday outside the Sunshine... photo by Bobby Williams]

You can buy the DVD here ... it's also available on Amazon. Dominic is now working on a documentary titled "Clean Hands," which chronicles the residents of La Chureca — Nicaragua’s largest, most dangerous garbage dump.