The series collects six of the most arresting screen performances by this gifted artist and activist, whom Martin Scorsese called “one of the greatest actors in the history of American film.” Select screenings will feature discussions with author J.R. Jones, film editor for the Chicago Reader, and Robert Ryan’s son, Cheyney Ryan, professor of law and philosophy at the Oxford Institute for Ethics, Law and Armed Conflict at Oxford University.
Robert Ryan became a star after World War II on the strength of his menacing performance as an anti-Semitic murderer in the film noir Crossfire. Over the next quarter century he created a gallery of brooding, neurotic, and violent characters in such movies as "Bad Day at Black Rock," "Billy Budd," "The Dirty Dozen," and "The Wild Bunch." His riveting performances expose the darkest impulses of the American psyche during the Cold War.
Here on East Sixth Street between Avenue A and B, we opened our doors to quite a spectacle of nature this morning. Pigeons feasting on a large pool of food waste right in the middle of the street... Can't wait until the rats show up!
Really glad someone seems to have thought it would be funny to throw a garbage bag in the middle of the street for cars to crush. Such a refreshing change from the overturned trash cans on the corner of 6th and A.
I really want to see the meathead who did this clean it up. With his or her bare hands, ideally.
This gentleman greeted people on Avenue A yesterday with a special happy hour show. He was fairly pleased with himself. The show ended with a grand finale where the naked gentleman spread his gluteal muscles for those interested in a closer inspection.
Aaron's daughter, my great-aunt Sue, talked about living "behind the store" in one large room, in which her father had built some partitions. There was no heat, except for a kerosene stove, and the toilet was outside in back. But I think she was referring to their tenement on Allen Street.
I'm guessing they moved to the Bowery around 1905, and probably lived in an apartment above the store, because she said that her father would "go upstairs" to sleep when he was ill.
Ms. Boo decorated the restaurant herself, wrapping twine around the front door handle, pinning ears of dried corn to a wall and filling the counter’s red shadowbox top with mosaics of broken glass. Light bulbs, shrouded in raffia, huddle in rattan boats dangling from the ceiling. The chairs, nine along the counter and six more at tables, could have been plucked from a hair salon.
It is the kind of place you are relieved still exists in the East Village: tiny, a little kooky, with its own weather.
Cracks in my walls, ceiling, etc., and the lovely noise from 7 a.m. - 6 p.m. Monday - Saturday. I only have one window to see out of for the air conditioner as I put 3-inch foam in the others.
Looking for a practical way to help New Yorkers in need? Consider hosting a food or clothing drive! Learn more: http://t.co/dDtwDioZIS
— The Bowery Mission (@BoweryMission) September 2, 2015
