
One of the juvenile red-tailed hawks early this evening atop Temperance Fountain in Tompkins Square Park...
Thanks to Goggla for the photo!
"The True Cost" sets a fitting backdrop for MoRUS’s participation in Loisaida Center’s Community Summer Program, “Garbagia Island,” a dystopian representation of the Island of Puerto Rico and its current economical and political situation.
The program will present workshops open to the public and held at the Loisaida Center and La Plaza Cultural Community Garden where participants will learn, among other activities, how to create fashion, masks and costumes with recycled materials. A culmination of these community workshops will manifest in a up-cycled fashion and costume presentation at La Plaza on Saturday, July 30 at 4 p.m.
To learn more about these free, pirate-themed events visit the Loisaida website.
MARTIN was convicted following a bench trial in New York State Supreme Court of all of the charges against him, including Murder in the Second Degree, Aggravated Vehicular Homicide, and Assault and Reckless Endangerment in the First Degrees, among other charges.
“Shaun Martin turned a vehicle into a murder weapon the morning he took the wheel while impaired by drugs,” said District Attorney Vance. “In doing so, he chose to endanger the lives of every New Yorker he encountered that day. As proven at trial, he acted with depraved indifference to human life, directly causing the death of Mohammed Akkas Ali and seriously injuring two of his coworkers. He never touched the brakes as he hurtled through the East Village. I would like to thank the Judge for her careful deliberation of this case, and hope this conviction serves to deter those who would be so devoid of care for the lives of their fellow New Yorkers.”
As proven at trial, at approximately 6:50 a.m. on June 19, 2013, MARTIN sped through the East Village in a white Nissan Altima, driving more than 50 miles per hour, while impaired by both phencyclidine, commonly referred to as PCP, and methamphetamine. Cutting across three lanes of traffic, MARTIN drove onto the sidewalk and struck a fire hydrant, a pay phone, a muni-meter, and a tree, before crashing the car into a flower stand attached to the East Village Farm and Grocery Store on the corner of East 4th Street and Second Avenue. MARTIN struck three of the store’s employees, including Mohammed Akkas Ali, who died as a result of injuries he suffered from the crash. A man riding a bicycle was also injured by debris from the crash.
Defendant Information:
SHAUN MARTIN, D.O.B. 4/7/1981
Queens, NY
Convicted:
• Murder in the Second Degree, a class A felony, 1 count
• Aggravated Vehicular Homicide, a class B felony, 2 counts
• Assault in the First Degree, a class B felony, 2 counts
• Aggravated Vehicular Assault, a class C felony, 4 counts
• Reckless Endangerment in the First Degree, a class D felony, 1 count
• Driving While Ability Impaired By Drugs, a class E felony, 2 counts
• Driving While Ability Impaired By Combination of Drugs and Alcohol, a class E felony, 1 count
• Criminal Possession of a Controlled Substance in the Seventh Degree, a class A misdemeanor, 1 count
• Assault in the Third Degree, a class A misdemeanor, 1 count
Name: Anna Pastoressa
Occupation: Jack of all trades
Location: 2nd Street and Avenue A
Time: 4:15 pm on Friday, July 15
I was born in Rome. As a young person, I thought that I was in a small world, and I wanted to see the world. So I used to travel a lot, and then I decided I wanted to come and visit the U.S. It was just a visit.
When I came, I liked it, and I traveled all over the U.S. I decided that I wanted to try to stay, but New York was not my first destination. I lived in New Orleans, I met somebody there, and I got married. That’s what made me stay here in this country. Eventually, I divorced that person and I decided to come to New York. I’m from Rome and I needed to be in a big city. New Orleans had a small-town feeling.
I moved here in 1983. I came right to the East Village. I used to live on Avenue C. It was the cheapest place to be, but it was also a dangerous area. It was like the wild west, but I have to say, the drug dealers who were in charge of the neighborhood, they kept the neighborhood safe. I used to walk around Alphabet City in the 80s by myself, at night. I knew the drug dealers would be in the doorways minding their business, and making sure that the neighborhood stayed safe.
You know, I felt safe, as crazy as this sounds. It was very hard to take a cab home, because cab drivers used to drop me on 1st Avenue. They’d said, ‘You have to walk. I’m not taking you to that jungle.’ I would be mad, because I wanted to go home, but they would systematically drop me on 1st Avenue, and I would have to walk all the way to Avenue C. But then I thought, ‘Okay, from 1st Avenue to Avenue C, there are going to be the drug dealers helping out.
In fact, there were some people who were pickpocketed, and the drug dealers were the ones who saved them, or they would chase the thief. They used to tell them, ‘Do not rob in this neighborhood. Do not come here to steal, because we will beat you up. We don’t want the cops here, so you don’t do this in this neighborhood.’
I knew the drug dealers, to the point where I had an old funky car, and I used to park it around the neighborhood. One time, the car got broken into. They broke the glass, and one of the drug dealers saw the car and said, ‘What happened to it?’ I said, ‘Well, look, they broke into the car, and I don’t even have a radio. There is nothing to steal.’ And he said, ‘Where did you park it?’ I said, ‘I parked it two blocks away,’ and he said, ‘You don’t park it there. You park your car on this block and nothing will ever happen to your car.’
I remember having a little trouble sometimes with kids in the neighborhood. They would play basketball and bounce it on my car, or be a little rowdy. There was one particular kid, I was trying to park the car near my house, and he was trying to take over the parking spot and put his ball there. So one time I wanted to park there, and he started bouncing the basketball on my car, and bent it.
I got so upset that I went to the drug dealer, and I said, ‘Listen, you told me to ask you for help. Please help me, this kid is not being nice to me. I know the kid, he lives right there, a few doors down from me.’ The drug dealer took care of it. He brought him to me and said, ‘You say sorry to this lady. Don’t you ever, ever bother her again,’ and the kid was like, ‘Sorry!’ I felt so bad for him.
The funny thing is that I saw him growing up after that, and he turned into a very nice man. To date, when I run into him, we laugh. He keeps telling me, ‘I’m so sorry for what I did as a kid,’ and I say, ‘Stop it. A long time has gone by. You’re a wonderful, nice young man. Leave it alone. You were a kid.’ We still laugh. We can never forget that incident.
I had a lot of friends in my neighborhood. We were all artists, musicians. I know a lot of people here who are into visual arts, music, theater. We used get together and Tompkins Square Park was our playground; that was our meeting point. We would go together to plays. There used to be a lot of alternative theaters in this area. People had theaters in their homes, and they had galleries in squats. It was a very nice period. As much as it was considered bad, or it had a negative connotation, I think it was a fun time of New York City, and of this area. There was a lot of freedom. We knew everybody. It was like being in a village. It was a real village.
Then we grew up, we got married, we had children, and our children play together in Tompkins Square Park. It was the playground for our children. We would have parties and be with our children. We looked out for each other’s children.
The Bowery Wall mural will be Hicks’ most personal piece yet. His signature architectural landscape is set on Greene Street where a massive photo shoot took place on May 22. For the shoot, Logan invited dozens of friends and family to participate, and be represented in a “crowd scene.” The mural represents his past, present and future here in New York City, telling the story of his life through the people who have touched him.
[T]he move to Brooklyn is not due to an alarming rent increase, unlike his move 6 years ago from 164 Ludlow St. to the current location. “Normally when you do the move,” he said, “it’s not generally one thing (namely a rent hike).”
“The lease is not up this second,” Howell said, “but I’m choosing to leave before I really don’t have a choice.”
I was able to take a group portraits for the final day of Ludlow Guitars. Owner Kaan Howell and employee Garret Lovell were joined by their neighbors from Con Artist Collective down the block as the sun shone on the facade.
Kaan, who's owned the business since 2004, told me they'll be opening up in Brooklyn soon and were excited to start a new chapter there.
It was second time Ludlow Guitars has relocated after moving just up the block in 2010 from it's longtime home at 164 Ludlow St. where ODD is presently located. Kaan and Garret enjoyed the shoot and gave everyone guitars to pose with.
Emerson Whitmore, 51, and Sarah Wilson, 36, who knew the victim, got into a fight with him over property that had gone missing or might have been stolen, according to the NYPD. Whitmore stabbed the victim in the back multiple times with the scissors.
Emerson Whitmore, 51, and Sarah Wilson, 36, who knew the victim, got into a fight with him over property that had gone missing or might have been stolen, according to the NYPD. Whitmore stabbed the victim in the back multiple times with the scissors.
Suicide, particularly in its early years, was as much a provocation as a concert act. Formed in 1970, it was one of the first bands to bill themselves as “punk music.” With Martin Rev playing loud, insistently repetitive riffs on keyboards and drum machines and Mr. Vega crooning, chanting, muttering and howling his lyrics about insanity, mayhem and death, Suicide fiercely polarized its audiences.
In the trashy, fertile downtown New York City arts world of the early 1970s, Suicide performed at the Mercer Arts Center, Max’s Kansas City and CBGB as well as at art galleries. The band was initially a trio, including a guitarist, but by 1972 it was just Mr. Vega and Mr. Rev.
[On Friday] I was told by someone who works for Village Alliance that, when eventually complete, the new Astor Place will have a variety of food vendors, outdoor tables and chairs, and some type of lighting scheme. There's a large electrical box on the northeast corner of Chase that will power all of this. The Village Alliance and some type of committee at the Sculpture of Living building decide who these food vendors are and, in general, decide what takes place in the area.
One bit of news I found shocking is that they have allegedly altered The Alamo sculpture so it will now include some type of lighting.
According to the Village Alliance employee the sculpture will also rotate on its own now as he said people have hurt their backs trying to spin it. Personally, I find it unethical to alter an artist's work to make it appear more like a theme park attraction.
The Alamo sculpture should return in August, and it is exactly the same as it was before. There are no lights and the spinning mechanism is human powered, just like before. It received a thorough cleaning and coating to protect it from the weather and will return in good shape.
Also coming in August, there will be bistro tables, chairs and umbrellas for use by the public, much like you see in other plazas around the city.
Finally, there will be a single food concession in the north and south plaza spaces at Astor Place (not around Cooper Square or points south) pursuant to the license agreement with NYCDOT. No other vending will be allowed on the plazas.