A demolition permit for St. Brigid’s Church on Avenue B was still in effect last week, despite the promise in May of this year of $20 million from an anonymous benefactor to restore the 1849 building and the East Village parish that the Catholic Archdioceses of New York dissolved in 2004.
But an archdiocese spokesperson said last week that architects were preparing plans and contractors were drawing up documents for building permits.
“We know the demolition permit has to be withdrawn and we decided to do it all at once,” said Joseph Zwilling. “There is no construction date and we’ll make an announcement when we have one.”
Nevertheless, Edwin Torres, president of the Committee to Save St. Brigid’s, the group that went to court in 2005 to prevent the church building’s demolition, said last week that the committee was troubled that the demolition permit was still on file at the Department of Buildings.
Your favorite street festival lives on! This year we are expanding to two blocks, giving people lots of room, and heading toward event greater demonstrations, educational displays and community involvement. Bring your own costume, and prepare to pucker!
As always, Pickle Day will feature pickles from around the world, and around the corner. In addition to expanded selection of pickled fruits, vegetables, meats, cheeses, we want to hear from you, what you’re doing, and your relationship to the pickling industry. It’s your festival, after all… on Orchard St, between Broome and Grand, 11-4:30.
Seen on First Avenue. TV Squad was game enough to call the attached number. For a CBS series called "The Ex List." Ugh.
I remember seeing this one in the subways, and at the time it was very appropriate. As you can see above, the ad plays on the MTA’s notoriously unreliable public address system. Fifteen years, the MTA swore they were working to improve the PA system. Based on what I hear on the trains and in stations every day, I’m guessing that the PA overhaul is one project not quite there yet.
English architect Lord Norman Foster must be tired of dealing with all the stuffy uptowners (lookin' at you, Tom Wolfe!) who get mixed up in the business of his grand architectural visions, because rumor has it he's heading downtown—to the Bowery, so conveniently left out of the East Village/Lower East Side rezoning. According to a Curbed tipster, Foster & Partners has designed the above nine-story gallery building for an established Chelsea art dealer at 257 Bowery, just north of the New Museum and across the street from FLAnk Architects' planned eco-friendly hotel.
Walk to Broadway and down two blocks south to the Crossroads of the World. Unsurprisingly, a lot of drinking history occurred at this intersection. On the southeast corner of Seventh Avenue and 42nd Street, you can still see the Mansard-roofed beauty that once was the Knickerbocker Hotel. The bar was so favored a watering hole of uptown swells in the first two decades of the 20th century that it was called the 42nd Street Country Club. (It was also the original home of Parrish's "Old King Cole" oil painting.) Its main importance in cocktail history, though, lies in the once-prevalent claim that its head bartender, Martini di Arma di Taggia, invented the martini in 1912. This is balderdash, since mentions of the drink had been appearing in print for decades prior to that. But give ol' di Taggia a quick salute, anyway.
Directly opposite Broadway was the Hotel Metropole, another popular way station for actors, politicians, and the like. Its house cocktail was the Metropolitan, which is basically a Manhattan, but with brandy standing in for the rye. It hasn't retained the fame the Manhattan has but is still a damned decent drink.
There are few entries in the annals of New York alcoholism to rival the bar at the “21” Club in Midtown Manhattan. The broad, mahogany bar stood since the 1940s in the center of the first floor. Drinks were had there by the likes of Humphrey Bogart and Ernest Hemingway.
With its celebrity patrons and speakeasy heritage, it was the subject of paintings by artists like Leroy Neiman and immortalized in films, notably “The Sweet Smell of Success.”
But now in the celebrated dining room of “21,” which reopened this month at “21” West 52nd Street after renovation, there is only the sweet smell of shellac, given off by — egads — a sleek new bar, freshly varnished.
It resembles the old bar, down to the brass foot rail, but there are differences. It is much narrower (about half as wide as the four-foot-wide old one), and shorter (by about 12 feet), leaving more space in the dining room for tables. And there are no spittoons.
This film series is all well and good. I'm all for free things that can bring the community together. Not to mention I enjoy cheesy Hollywood movies . . . Still, I'd appreciate an outdoor movie series showing more obscure mainstream and independent films and/or a showcase for local filmmakers. How about something on the history of the neighborhood, such as Clayton Patterson's Captured?
Two thirds of a 15,000-square-foot East Village playground that was home to a popular flea market is under contract in a quiet, all-cash sale for $10.4 million to the Archdiocese of New York, court documents said.
The playground, divided into three ownership lots, is adjacent to the shuttered Mary Help of Christians Catholic Church on the east side of Avenue A between 11th and 12th streets. The Archdiocese owns the church located on a 13,000 square foot lot, city records show.
The Archdiocese did not respond to requests for comment, but real estate professionals speculated the church parcel and playground would be sold and developed into residential housing.
[Photos by Charlie Kerman]
It almost became a grocery store in the 1970s. In the 1980s, it was nearly jackhammered into a cavernous disco with a triple-tiered restaurant. Somehow it escaped becoming a multiplex. And through 78 years, the neglect of the Beacon Theater in Manhattan — aside from occasional spasms of partial renovation — has often been profound.
The Beacon, at 2124 Broadway, at West 74th Street, is familiar to generations of New Yorkers living on the West Side who grew up there when it was a movie house, performance space and, in recent decades, what some have called the Carnegie Hall of rock rooms.
The Beacon went dark last month for a six-month, $15-million restoration by Madison Square Garden Entertainment, a division of Cablevision Systems Corporation, which announced in 2006 that it was leasing the theater for 20 years. The interior face-lift is to be completed by Jan. 31, in time for a February opening.
Low ceilings. Columns in the living room. Drainage grates outside the windows.
What sounds like a Lower East Side tenement is actually a $53.5 million pair of Plaza penthouses bought by Russian hedge-fund manager Andrei Vavilov, who says the developer promised him the epitome of luxury and then handed over an "attic-like space."
In his 1962 poem “An Urban Convalescence,” James Merrill captured the feverish yet methodical sacking of the city and the way it toys with our sense of comfortable familiarity.
As usual in New York, everything is torn down
Before you have had time to care for it.
Head bowed, at the shrine of noise,
let me try to recall
What building stood here.
Was there a building at all?
Among Merrill’s disciples is one Jeremiah Moss, who maintains the engagingly gloomy blog Jeremiah’s Vanishing New York, which he terms “an ongoing obituary for my dying city.” His topic is the steady erosion of the city’s texture. He is the defender of all the undistinguished hunks of masonry that lend the streets their rhythm and give people a place to live and earn a living: bodegas, curio stores, a metalworking shop in Soho, diners, and dingy bars.
R.I.P. Eddie Boros.
Our city is molting.
Bricks flake away. So do brittle fire escapes, terra-cotta encrustations, old paint, cracked stoops, faded awnings, sash windows, and stone laurels fashioned a century ago by Sicilian carvers. New York is shucking off its aging walk-ups, its small and mildewed structures, its drafty warehouses, cramped stores, and idle factories. In their place, the city is sprouting a hard, glistening new shell of glass and steel. Bright, seamless towers with fast elevators and provisional views spring up over a street-level layer of banks and drugstores. In some cities, a building retains the right to exist until it’s proved irredeemable. Here, colossal towers are merely placeholders, temporary arrangements of future debris. New York lives by a philosophy of creative destruction. The only thing permanent about real estate is a measured patch of earth and the column of air above it. The rest is disposable.
And the metamorphosis has sped up. In the past fifteen fat years, more than 76,000 new buildings have gone up, more than 44,000 were razed, another 83,000 were radically renovated—a rate of change that evokes those time-lapse nature films in which flowers spring up and wither in a matter of seconds. For more than a decade, we have awakened to jackhammers and threaded our way around orange plastic netting, calculating that, since our last haircut, workers have added six more stories to that high-rise down the block. Now that metamorphosis is slowing as the economy drags. Buildings are still going up, but the boom is winding down. Before the next one begins is a good time to ask, has this ferment improved New York or eaten away at the city’s soul?
"Earlier the 9th precinct had decided to arrest Sturgeon for tossing donuts at them at the concert claiming that per the Penal Code such an action constituted harrasment of a police officer . They waited for an hour to arrest Sturgeon apparently because they felt that it would be easier and less risky than doing so at the concert with a crowd that might protest such an arrest .
Arresting Sturgeon-- charges were harrasment of a police officer , disorderly conduct and resisting arrest--in TSP was not so difficult , there was little resistance , but the unexpected consequences of the arrest were for a while somewhat chaotic .
After Sturgeons arrest some present decided to attempt to prevent the police RMP containing Sturgeon from leaving the park . Police cars were damaged ,broken mirrors etc . Bottles were thrown and trash recepticles were upset and emptied . People climbed on top of police cars with some standing or lying down in front of the police vehicles . For a few minutes the situation was quite eye-ball-to-eye-ball and nose-to-nose physical but police eventually gained control with minimal use of force . 3 additional arrests were made before the brief melee ended.
For Kathy Kirkpatrick, the owner of the Life Café, it was a moment she had resisted. During nearly all of the show’s run, she had done little more to capitalize on the cafe’s appearance in the show than to put up a poster signed by the cast . . .
“We thought if we did anything it would look like we were exploiting the show, and that’s not what we are about,” Ms. Kirkpatrick said.
But times have changed — and so have the needs of fans, who began to take menus as souvenirs. Since the play announced in March that it was closing, the cafe has begun to sell “Rent” memorabilia, designing a line of T-shirts, buttons, hats and tote bags and displaying journals in which fans can memorialize how the play has touched them.
In today’s East Village, expensive glass-fronted condominiums abut rows of hip Mexican and Asian restaurants, and the anti-materialistic, bohemian spirit immortalized in “Rent” can be difficult to see.
Gone are the days when the Life Café could stay afloat selling 50-cent bowls of vegetarian chili cooked over a Coleman burner, as it did in 1981, when it opened in a dilapidated storefront on East 10th Street and Avenue B, surrounded by abandoned buildings and shuttered storefronts.
The rent Life Café pays is now “well over $9,000 a month,” said John Sunderland, Ms. Kirkpatrick’s husband, and may double when the lease comes up for renewal in June.
So when “Rent’s” public relations firm asked whether the Life Café would host a video contest and party to mark the end of the show, Ms. Kirkpatrick said yes. “It’s hard to continue on in the way we have over the years without taking some hard, tough decisions to move forward. You do have to be creative in order to survive,” she said.
