By the 1910s and 1920s, Webster Hall became famous for its masquerade balls, following the success of a 1913 fundraiser for the socialist magazine The Masses. The parties, which attracted the bohemians of the Village and beyond, grew more and more outlandish–and the costumes, skimpier and skimpier.
Name: Regina Bartkoff and Charles Schick
Occupation: Artists, Performers
Location: 292 E. 3rd St. between Avenue C and D
Time: 7 pm on Thursday, March 12
Regina: I’m from Howard Beach, Queens. I was an outsider there — no friends, just weird, not knowing why. There were no artists there. My mother was from Naples, Italy. My dad was Hungarian, Finnish, and from the Bronx and Harlem. They were just working-class people. I would say to my mother, ‘Where is everybody? Why is everybody inside? Even though I was a shy kid, I just felt like I didn’t belong there.
In high school I remember saying one thing and then kids going, ‘oh she’s weird.’ So I just got quiet, shy. I cut myself off. Back then there was obviously no Internet, so you were by yourself all of the time. Somehow I just got through school. I didn’t do well in school at all. I wasn’t a troublemaker, but I was just lost.
Charlie: I was born in Chicago in 1955. My dad was a civil service worker so it was almost like being an Army brat. He was working for the Army. For his first job we went over to Germany and I really kind of moved around a lot to different American communities. It was a pretty good time. It was middle class but the refrigerator was always full — prosperous. You didn’t really have to worry about anything. I was having a jolly old time with my friends.
We went back to Chicago and my dad lost his job after several years there. It was the same thing Regina was going through. I felt isolated. It was almost like the Howard Beach of Chicago — an Italian, Polish community. We kept moving and eventually my dad got another government job. We went over to some islands in the Pacific and I went to boarding school in Japan for awhile but I got kicked out. I was kind of a reckless kid. You were sort of free but you didn’t really think about it. Not really thinking about a career. The influence of the people of that time, the hippies, later the punks. Just living, seeing where it goes. I remember trying to go to college for a couple of months but I couldn’t sit still.
Regina: Right after high school, I was sitting on my front stoop and these two guys were walking through the neighborhood and covered with dirt. I grew up right next door to Aqueduct Racetrack, and they said, ‘We work with horses.’ ‘Horses? I love horses,’ never being around them, ‘They got girls down there?’ ‘Yeah, go to this barn and you can get a job as a hot walker. The barn was owned by Buddy Jacobson and his son and all the people working there were about my age. They taught me how to walk and feed the horses. I loved being around the horses. They felt like me, really nervous, high strung. I literally felt the ice cracking around my heart. I could be responsible for these young colts.
But the other thing was that I realized that people liked me for the first time. They were kind of outsiders too in a certain way. My first boyfriend was there, a little Puerto Rican kid, and my mom flipped out.
I would get up in the morning, spend all my time there, then come back. My mom called them bad people. She was very tough and very scary. At that time, when you were raised, we were beat a lot. I didn’t think that was so bad or unusual because everybody got that. But unlike the other Italian mothers in the neighborhood she didn’t know how to show her love for me. But she gave me a lot of her great strength as did my father and they both taught me to just get on with it and not to have self-pity.
At the track I also discovered books. One of the kids had "The Catcher in the Rye." I went home and read it, I just said, ‘Oh my god, this was written for me.’ That opened up the world for writers. If you don’t want to be alone, start reading. I started discovering Kerouac, Salinger, Henry Miller, Hermann Hesse, Eugene O’Neill, Tennessee Williams. That made life so much better, but I still didn’t think about being an artist or a writer.
Charlie: All kinds of crazy things happened, but I ended up in Los Angeles for a while with stronger and stronger feelings of wanting to find a life’s work. Really the only thing that made sense to me were the arts. I didn’t even know which one, but somehow I just drifted into acting and I got deeper into that. I always wanted to go to New York. It seemed like the most exciting place in the world to me. The films that were coming out of there in the 1970s — “Taxi Driver,” “Dog Day Afternoon” — I thought I belonged there. They had this service if you could deliver somebody’s car to New York, it’s a free ride. So I drove cross-country with a friend of mine to New York in this Cadillac.
I had gotten into painting in California — totally undisciplined, but not in the sense that you don’t work hard. You sort of dive in. As much as I liked acting, you’d get into some play and you didn’t even like it or the part and I just had no discipline or tolerance to wait that out. Our whole lives have been sort of the do-it-yourself. Even now. I just sort of dove in, not really trained to draw, but the image would come out of the paint. You’d keep doing it and doing it and doing it and exploring that.
Regina: I didn’t want to be at the track forever and I didn’t know what I was doing, so I left and took the A train to Manhattan and got a job at WABC Radio. I don’t know why I did that. The whole thing started again. I had no friends and they thought I was weird and I was so depressed. I missed being outside. I felt my soul shrinking.
This will not be a formal ceremony, but an informal sharing of stories about a woman who lived through many difficulties and made a unique impression on many in the neighborhood, maintaining cheerfulness in all kinds of weather, always ready to give as well as receive, and in no hurry to leave the Park for life in a boring institution. Please come and meet Donna's family, so we can all pay our respects and take note of her untimely passing.
Fully Operational Corner Location Restaurant. Super Desirable East Village Avenue A at 6th Street...
No Key Money!!!
1,300 sq ft main dining space & Kitchen. Plus a 1600sqf Basement set up as a full prep kitchen with 2 walk-in boxes
Also seating for 9 tables/18 chairs outside the cafe.
The restaurant will serve small and shareable Portuguese dishes like caldo verde — a traditional potato-based soup with shredded kale and optional chorizo slices — and bacalhau — dried and salted cod.
Yaffa's illegal back patio, which was partially responsible for its closing, will be turned into a garden, Baker said, and windows will be built into the back of the restaurant so customers can look at the landscaped area.
Because theworldEast Village needs more sockless men gesticulating over a gram of food at 4 in the afternoon.
The East Village Community Coalition with the East Village Independent Merchants Association are hosting a workshop tomorrow targeted to local business owners regarding the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA) and practical solutions to increase accessibility to East Village businesses. Residents are also encouraged to attend.
We invite you to join in a conversation about access and your business. This event will be facilitated by East Village resident and wheelchair-user, Alexandra McArthur. Our discussion will explain the benefits of making simple, inexpensive changes to storefront entryways to improve access. Kleo King from the Mayor's Office of People with Disabilities and Ted Finkelstein from the Commission on Human Rights will join the discussion.
Wednesday, March 18, 10 am-11am
Cafe Mocha, 116 Second Ave. at East Seventh Street
Questions or to rsvp: email
