The city had inspected the 30-foot shed on East First Street and First Avenue earlier this month — but said nothing about plans to tear it down...They only told her to get rid of a vending machine that “wasn’t food-related” and to pick up a trash can encroached 6 feet into the amenity zone between the shed and the sidewalk, [co-owner Mimi] Blitz said.
The task force will also review sheds that, while potentially active, are particularly egregious violators of Open Restaurants program guidelines. In these cases, sheds will be inspected three separate times before action is taken. After each of the first two failed inspections, DOT will issue notices instructing the restaurant owner to correct the outstanding issues; after the third visit, DOT will issue a termination letter and allow 48 hours before issuing a removal notice. DOT will then remove the structure and store it for 90 days — if the owner does not reclaim it in that period, DOT will dispose of the structure.If the city did remove this for violations, then it didn't follow its stated policy of removing and storing... as the contents and the structure were tossed into the back of a garbage truck and crushed.
Nick Zedd is an artist from the New York City underground punk scene, who passed away earlier this year. Although mainly known for his films, he was also a painter and author. Nick spearheaded the movement known as Cinema of Transgression — kitschy, violent, sexy, shocking, and featuring a filming style that goes beyond description.Nick Zedd always felt there was no good way to describe his films other than to just watch and experience them yourself. Tompkins has been known for decades as a park where artists, punks and other creatives come together in different ways.Back in the 1980s-90s Nick Zedd was always pasting his art around and sharing his zines in Tompkins and the surrounding neighborhood. Which is part of what makes screening Nick Zedd's films here so special.
Peter Schjeldahl, a longtime resident of St. Mark's Place and "a half-century-long prose stylist of New York City's art scene," died on Friday of lung cancer, his daughter Ada Calhoun announced. He was 80.My father, Peter Schjeldahl, passed away today peacefully of lung cancer. He will be buried privately. In March there will be a memorial service honoring his life and work. My mother and I are grateful for all the messages and will be in touch when we can. pic.twitter.com/RVyrIkblWs
— Ada Calhoun (@adacalhoun) October 21, 2022
Peter was a man of well-developed opinions, on art and much else. He was someone who, after being lost for a time, knew some things about survival. We met more than twenty years ago. I was looking to hire a full-time art critic. I’d read him for years in the Village Voice. And a voice is what he always had: distinct, clear, funny. A poet’s voice — epigrammatic, nothing wasted.
We got together at the office on a Saturday in late summer. Someone had shut off the building’s air-conditioning. Peter was pale, rivulets of sweat running down his face. I asked about an empty interval of time on his résumé. "Well, I was a falling-down drunk back then. Then I fixed that." He was harder on himself than he would be on any artist.Don’t misunderstand: in the many years of his writing for The New Yorker, Peter was perfectly willing to give a bad show a bad review, and there were some artists he was just never going to love — Turner and Bacon among them — but he was openhearted, he knew how to praise critically, and, to the end, he was receptive to new things, new artists. ... He took his work seriously — despite the cascades of self-deprecation, there were times when I think he knew how good he was — but he was never self-serious. He once won a grant to write a memoir. He used the money to buy a tractor.
When Peter got the news of his cancer — a cancer that he and his doctors kept at bay for longer than anyone imagined possible — Ada asked him if he wanted to revisit Rome or Paris. "Nah," he said. "Maybe a ballgame." And Ada arranged it, Peter wrote, "with family and friends: Mets versus Braves, at Citi Field. Glorious. Grandson Oliver caught a T-shirt from the mid-game T-shirt cannon. Odds of that: several thousand to one."
In New York's latest issue, features writer Simon van Zuylen-Wood examines one of New York City’s remaining vestiges of COVID-19: the outdoor dining shed. From shabby wooden structures to fabulous cabins with white tablecloths, their mass constructions “probably represent the speediest reshaping of the built environment in the city’s history,” van Zuylen-Wood writes. The streeteries were initially part of a program started by former mayor Bill de Blasio as a solution to help sustain restaurants during the height of the pandemic and meant to be temporary.However, in year three of the pandemic, the city is looking to make these structures permanent, even as we still grapple with how they’ve transformed the streetscape. Van Zuylen-Wood looks ahead to the future of streeteries while the seething ideological fight between shed-haters and lovers unfolds.
