Do you want to see photos of the Mars Bar being demolished?

After our post Monday showing the workers putting up scaffolding over a three-day period outside the Mars Bar ... a reader sent along an email, basically asking if we could cool it on the demo shots. The reader compared it to seeing photos of a loved at the end of a life, and that the photos on various blogs and news site had become a macabre sporting event.

Hmm. We explained that we weren't doing this with any woo-woo. Just a matter of following the story.

Let us know if you have an opinion on the matter.

Because the netting is in place. The chutes are ready. There are porta poopers. There's even a construction shed now on East First Street. As these photos from Bobby Williams yesterday show...

EV Grieve Etc.: Mourning Edition

[This morning via an East 14th Street resident]

Beat poet Jack Micheline and the Mars Bar (Jeremiah's Vanishing New York)

A look at Ian Schrager's incoming Public hotel on Chrystie Street (BoweryBoogie)

100 years of Russ & Daughters on the Lower East Side (Eater)

An update on the endangered Children's Magical Garden (The Lo-Down)

Some video from the Dance Parade on Saturday (GammaBlog)

Visiting the "gallery haven" of the Lower East Side (Crain's)

The overwhelming persistence of neighborhood poverty (The Atlantic/CityLab)

Video: A day in the life of NYC's wonderful, endangered libraries (BoingBoing)

Looping the loop again in Coney Island (Amusing the Zillion)


[Tompkins Square Park this morning]

Juice Press founder bringing goodsugar to 1st Street

Marcus Antebi, the founder of Juice Press, is debuting a new pop-up concept called goodsugar™at 21 E. First St.

The plant-based, wellness cafe is now part of the Kollectiv space here between Second Avenue and the Bowery.

Here's more about the concept via a goodsugar rep:

• Moving beyond Juice Press, goodsugar will concentrate on eliminating single-use plastic. Products will be sold in reusable containers that can be returned for loyalty points, creating a closed-loop system we hope to see replicated by every cafe, restaurant, and juice bar in the world.

• Cold-pressed juice will be the freshest available anywhere, mixed and served on-demand rather than being stored for days in a fridge or HPP'd to extend shelf life for 3 months. 

• goodsugar offers organic vegan cooked foods, hot soups, fresh salads, and baked goods (free of gluten and refined sugars).

Kollectiv is "an urban retreat center" that features an herbal pharmacy and spa. Several juice cafes have given this space a shot dating to 2015, including NatureEs and the Alchemist's Kitchen. Kollectiv resides in the retail portion of Jupiter 21, the residential building that rose in 2012-2013 on the property that once housed Mars Bar and several other businesses.

Antebi opened the very first Juice Press one block to the east on First Street near First Avenue in 2010. While that location has closed, there are more than two dozen in the city. Antebi, who also has a goodsugar book and podcast, left Juice Press in 2019. 

Hours for goodsugar: Tuesday through Sunday from 10 a.m. to 6 p.m. Find the menu here. 

To Hank

A photo posted by Lulu (@lulukayr) on Nov 17, 2015 at 11:12am PST

Someone decided to pay his or her respects to the late Hank Penza, who owned Mars Bar among many others during his life, here at the Centre-fuge-curated rotating outdoor gallery/construction trailer on East First Street between First Avenue and Second Avenue …

Previously on EV Grieve:
RIP Hank Penza

The artist who captured the sounds of East Village community gardens during the pandemic

Interview by Stacie Joy

Over the past year, Japanese artist Aki Onda has been visiting East Village community gardens and making field recordings for his project "Silence Prevails: East Village Community Gardens During the Pandemic." (Find the video here.)

Although now back in Japan, his project has recently gone live, and I was able to talk with him about his work, the inspiration behind the project and what’s next for him.

How did this project come about? Can you speak about its history? What made you choose the East Village for your project and what drew you to its community gardens?

I had an idea to do a project about the East Village community gardens for many years, although it took a long time, nearly two decades until I could work on it.

I started visiting NYC around the end of the 1990s and often stayed in the East Village. Back then, the area was home to artists and musicians. I had many friends and it was easy to hang out with them as well as sublet their apartment. I also loved watching avant-garde cinema at Anthology Film Archives, spent hundreds of hours there and met Jonas Mekas. 

His film "Reminiscences of a Journey to Lithuania," which I watched in Tokyo in 1996, had a tremendous impact on my life and art practice. So, it was a big deal for me to meet him. I would visit him at his office, and he would offer a drink to toast even if it was morning. Then, we would go to lunch at his usual Italian restaurant nearby, or Mars Bar.

Mekas organized two exhibitions of my photographs at the Courthouse Gallery in the basement. I donated a couple of large-size prints, and in return, he gave me a small print of his still image, which I still have. I met so many filmmakers while I spent my time at the AFA, and that helped me to absorb the Downtown culture. 

I found community gardens such as Albert’s Garden, Liz Christy Community Garden and 6 & B Garden around that time. Each had a very distinctive character and I sensed there was something to look into. My favorite was La Plaza Cultural, although the garden itself was rough around the edges and unpretentious, I found it a cheerful and festive space. 

Much later, I learned that the garden was founded by Carlos "Chino" Garcia and fellow local activists. Their associations with Buckminster Fuller and Gordon Matta-Clark, and the intersection between art and activism, was also inspiring.

My work, both sound- and visual-based, are often catalyzed by and structured around memories —personal, collective, historical. So, the community garden was the perfect subject, and slowly over the years, I kept visiting those gardens and learning historical backgrounds.  

Finally, I decided to embark on the project in 2019 and there was a strong twist. The original idea was to document the gardens by making field recordings, taking photos, and writing texts through the four seasons from spring 2020 to winter 2021. 

However, the pandemic swept the globe, and as of March 2020, New York was its epicenter and under full lockdown. GreenThumb made a decision to close all community gardens until further notice. Only members were allowed to enter, and my project ground to a halt. 

Nonetheless, I thought it could be interesting to document the gardens in these unprecedented times and began contacting individual gardens directly. In the end, I visited around 25 gardens in spring and summer 2020. Spending time in the gardens was somehow comforting. Those are sparsely populated outdoor spaces and there is low risk of catching the virus. 

And, if I look back to the past, those gardens started as "green oases" by local residents when the city was going through a severe financial crisis in the 1970s. This was the hardest hit area with many low-income residents, and buildings descended into ruin. In that traumatized neighborhood, there was a strong need to improve lives and find sources of hope. 

Somehow, in the midst of COVID-19 crisis, though it’s a different type of crisis, I saw a sort of cycle and thought it’s worth researching and how those garden spaces changed over the last half-century.

What was the most surprising thing that happened while you were recording?

When I was recording in Campos Community Garden, suddenly the wind blew, and the wind chimes hung from a tree, started making beautiful sounds and vibrations. It lasted until I pressed the stop button.

What were the reactions of others as you set up your equipment and recorded sound and images?

I use a handheld cassette recorder, only with a cheap attached microphone. It’s low-key and not like a high-end digital recorder with a fluffy expensive shotgun microphone attached to a long boom. The presence of my equipment is unobtrusive and people feel less uncomfortable. Taking photos is a bit different, and I usually ask them to get permission first as I don’t want them to feel uncomfortable.  

What’s next for you as an artist?

I'm preparing my solo exhibition titled "Letters from Dead Souls" at Portland Institute for Contemporary Art (PICA) in summer 2021, and as well as a few other upcoming exhibitions.  

As for the community garden project, luckily, I developed good relationships with core members of the community garden movement during my research. It's a deep subject and there is a lot more to dig into. I'm planning to continue the research for the next several years and expand the project for another opportunity. Let's see what comes with it...    

Image of the artist by Makiko Onda, all other images courtesy Aki Onda. You can keep up with the artist here.

At the Mars Bar, 'hipster' entourage forced to drink Bud, pay with cash

A little slice-of-Mars-Bar life via Matt Rosen at les pensées insouciantes:

Curly bleached blonde ‘do — sides buzzed…

Skin-tight, distressed boatneck top, with a low enough scoop to show off some of that tasty —- and Manly™ —- burger meat…

Obligatory skinny jeans and Chuck Taylors…

Without a moment’s hesitation, confidently, like he’s done a hundred times before:

“Three PBR’s.”

Bartender:

“We don’t have it.”

Hipster:

[Look of utter disappointment and confusion. Noticeably rattled. You can see the immediate calculation going on in his head…“Dare I be caught drinking something as bourgie as…a Budweiser?” He regroups, poised just enough to mumble…]

“Bud is, fine.”

His order placed, he shrugs off this initial misstep and falls back into the comfort of his group while the drinks are prepared.

The bartender returns.

Our hipster whips out the plastic.

Bartender:

“Cash only.”

Hipster:

“Uh, oh…okay.”

Back to the pack. Hands struggle down deep into tight, practically vacuum-sealed front pockets for some crumpled up greenbacks.

Just enough.

Phew.

Our hipster takes a cool sip from the unfamiliar bottle, his hand shaking a little, a bead of sweat emerging from his forehead. He turns back into the pack and starts to bop his head to what he’s pretty sure is The Stooges playing on the jukebox.

Out and About in the East Village

In this ongoing feature, East Village-based photographer James Maher provides us with a quick snapshot of someone who lives and/or works in the East Village.



By James Maher

Name: Colette Pwakah
Occupation: Artist, Adventurer, and Part-Timer. Editor of Time Warp.
Location: Tompkins Square Park
Time: 3 pm on Friday, June 10

I was born and raised here: first near the Bowery, but I later moved further into the Lower East Side. My mom is from Syracuse and my dad is from Queens and Long Island. They moved to NYC in the early 1980s. I guess my dad always knew that he was meant to be in Manhattan, so he just had this drive to move here eventually. That was his goal.

Growing up in NYC was kind of fun and carefree. Most of my time was spent in the Tompkins playgrounds and the surrounding areas. I remember there were always a lot of strange characters around here. My dad would often point them out. He would say, ‘That kind of thing only happens here,’ or ‘only in New York.’ Living here, you'd learn to be more loving and accepting toward people, instead of hating or being afraid of people just because they look or act differently.

I was always into the punk aesthetic from a young age, and I liked that sort of music, but I didn’t know of any really good bands. Then in my late teens, I started doing more research and finding more genuine punk and rock 'n roll bands, like the real dank shit. Ramones, Misfits, the Clash, the Cramps, Johnny Thunders & the Heartbreakers, Richard Hell & the Voidoids, Leftover Crack...

Even as a kid, I heard about CBGBs and I always kind of fantasized about being able to go to shows there. In 2006, I think I was 12 or 13 so I was too young to even go to the matinee shows, and that was when they shut down. My little dream was crushed right there.

When I was little, there were still a lot of empty lots, a lot of garages, a lot of parking lots, empty spaces that didn’t have nasty glassy towers built on them. What really makes me go into this mental disconnect, is that so much is changing, faster than ever before, and its kind of heartbreaking sometimes. It’s hard to develop or maintain a sense of place when your surroundings are always looking different from month to month. What you knew and loved about your neighborhood — the familiar sights and imperfections — is being steadily destroyed and replaced.

One of the things I love most about New York City is that you can be anyone you want to be here. Everyone will accept you. That’s how it should be and that’s how it’s always been. If you want to reinvent yourself, go for it. That’s kind of a punk thing, too. You can be true to yourself and not have people judging you... and if they do, who the hell cares? Embracing punk music and ideologies has helped a lot in my life transition.

I studied wildlife biology in college. I was extremely depressed, anxious, and isolated, repeating endless cycles. It felt like being in prison. After a couple of years, I realized that no one really listens to scientists anymore. I began to question the system I was conforming to. Graduating high school, finishing college, getting a degree in some field, and hopefully getting a job... That's not realistic. It doesn't work for everyone. I really wanted to save natural places and wildlife — especially wolves and other predators.

I realized that there’s just so much corruption in politics that you can’t really do much as a scientist anymore. You might publish a study but no one really pays attention to it. Our global environment and ecosystems wouldn't be in such a mess if people in power would listen to the scientists or even common sense, for that matter. They only listen to the money. So, what’s the point of spending more than four years of my life studying and doing this work if it’s not even going to make a difference?

I left the city for maybe four months at a time each semester, and each time I came back to the city, the changes were very significant. It seems like time passes more quickly, here. You might leave for a week and it’s like a month has passed. It kind of freaked me out when I returned from my first semester and saw how the area around Mars Bar had changed in such little time. Astor Place suffered a similar fate. The streets are swarming with zombie-like people. It's like something outta the Twilight Zone.

In part 2 next week, Pwakah discusses launching her zine. "With Time Warp, I am trying to inspire people to act and actually do something instead of just being sad and resigned to the situation we’re in." (Find a PDF of the zine here.)

James Maher is a fine art and studio photographer based in the East Village. Find his website here.

'Goodbye to the Brick and Mortar' at the Tompkins Square Library

The Tompkins Square Library branch currently features local illustrator Lily Annabelle's work in an exhibit titled "Goodbye to the Brick and Mortar," featuring an array of dearly departed storefronts. 

Here's more: 

When storefronts have become an integral part of a community’s identity, it is a curious journey exploring the dynamics between the way they were built to look and the way the community saw them, the way the owners wanted them to look, and the way they stay in our memories after their departure. 

Lily's "Goodbye to the Brick and Mortar" series is a celebration of the life and memories these neighborhood establishments generously gifted us. In illustrating memorabilia from different eras and piecing them back together, Lily skillfully tells a story that defies time, lets the old meet the new, and pays homage to the humans who have made a mark on the community. 

Featured storefronts include Odessa, CBGB, Mars Bar, and DeRobertis Pasticceria and Caffe. 

Annabelle's work will be featured through March 29. (She had a similar exhibit at the Hudson Park Library last year.) 

Hours: Monday-Thursday, 11 a.m. to 7 p.m.; Friday, 10 a.m. to 6 p.m.; and 10 a.m. to 5 p.m. on Saturday. 

The library is at 331 E. 10th St. between Avenue A and Avenue B.

The Lower East Side — 'still better than SoHo'

The Post checks in today with a piece on the (likely) closings of the Mars Bar and Max Fish. A few excerpts...

"The Lower East Side felt like it was over a while ago, but [Max Fish] is a very symbolic closing," said author Richard Price, who used the neighborhood as a backdrop to his best seller "Lush Life."

"There are no neighborhoods in Manhattan anymore. South of Harlem, it feels like a bunch of districts where rich people can crash."

And from artist Aaron Rose, former owner of Ludlow Street's Alleged Gallery:

"The Lower East Side will always have some kind of edge until they manage to kick out the Latino community," said Rose. "A lot of people get pissed off that it's not what it used to be, but it's still better than SoHo."

Rather hilariously, here is how the Post chose to illustrate the article...





P.S.
Chilling?

A pop-up gallery for the summer at 42 Avenue B

Photos by Stacie Joy

A pop-up gallery, Life, The Universe & Everything, will be holding forth this summer at 42 Avenue B between Third Street and Fourth Street.

The first show, "Queen of Mars" by Rebecca Leveille Guayabera, opens tonight from 5-9.

This month, the gallery is open Tuesdays-Saturdays from 2-6 p.m. or by appointment. For more info on upcoming events here.

EV Grieve Etc.: Mourning Edition

Real ices of the Lower East Side (Jeremiah's Vanishing New York)

The long, slow death of Mars Bar (Grub Street)

A day in the life of Tompkins Square Park the other day (Nether More Nor Less)

Bloomberg buys a $20 million mansion (Runnin' Scared)

Thinking about those Lou Reed tags (Flaming Pablum)

Tiny's Sandwich Shop returns (BoweryBoogie)

And Melanie at East Village Corner across this speedster on Delancey ... Perhaps it's best if we don't know what was happening here...