Ben Shaoul's 98-100 Avenue A emerging from the dewatering hole

By late afternoon yesterday, Ben Shaoul's incoming retail-residential building between East Seventh Street and East Sixth Street made its first appearance above the plywood, as these photos by EVG contributor Steven show…





Last time we checked in on the address here on Avenue A, a report of smoke from the construction pit prompted a visit by the FDNY. Earlier in the summer a sign appeared on the plywood noting that — "We are currently performing dewatering on this construction site. This is condensation (water vapor) coming up through the pipes."

Not sure where workers are with the dewatering. We didn't notice any smoke water vapor when we walked by yesterday.

Anyway, you know the rest… the building will one day look something like this…



Previously on EV Grieve:
A little bit of Hollywood on Avenue A

Inside the abandoned theater at East Village Farms on Avenue A

Workers back demolishing what's left of 98-100 Avenue A

Rest assured, there isn't a fire in the hole at 98-100 Avenue A

Pipe dreams at 98-100 Avenue A

An EVG reader shares the current view into the hole at 98-100 Avenue A where East Village Farms (and a theater) once stood.

All this is for developer Ben Shaoul's 6-floor residential building with 29 apartments and ground-floor retail here between East Sixth Street and East Seventh Street.

One small reward after months and months of agonizing demolition: "I have a lovely view and sunset for a few months at least," the reader said. But. "I'm dreading the day the construction amps up."

Previously on EV Grieve:
A little bit of Hollywood on Avenue A

Inside the abandoned theater at East Village Farms on Avenue A

Workers back demolishing what's left of 98-100 Avenue A

Taking a pit stop at 98-100 Avenue A

As we pointed out on Friday, there isn't much, if anything, left of the former theater-turned-grocery at 98-100 Avenue A between East Seventh Street and East Sixth Street.

And what's it looking like from the top?

An EVG reader shared these photos...







Developer Ben Shaoul is putting in a 6-floor residential building with 29 apartments and ground-floor retail here.

Previously on EV Grieve:
A little bit of Hollywood on Avenue A

Inside the abandoned theater at East Village Farms on Avenue A

Workers back demolishing what's left of 98-100 Avenue A

98-100 Avenue A used to be here

Ben Shaoul's demo gang pretty much has the former 98-100 Avenue A wiped out now between East Seventh Street and East Sixth Street...



Coming one day: a 6-floor residential building with 29 apartments.

Previously on EV Grieve:
A little bit of Hollywood on Avenue A

Inside the abandoned theater at East Village Farms on Avenue A

Reader reports: Village Farms closing Jan. 31; building will be demolished

Asbestos abatement continues at 98 Avenue A, Ben Shaoul's latest East Village trophy

Meanwhile, 98-100 Avenue A is lying in ruins

Workers back demolishing what's left of 98-100 Avenue A

[Cinema Treasures]

How does the East Village stack up in the city's dog poop wars?

[EVG file photo from East 12th Street]

Pretty well, thanks!

DNAinfo has unleashed a handy interactive map that shows dog poop complaints by zip code in the five boroughs.

Around here, zip 10009 logged 30 complaints to 311 while 10003 tallied 10 complaints in the past two years. You have to head up to Hamilton Heights in zip 10031 to find any comparable numbers in Manhattan.

Still, the number here are dwarfed by several neighborhoods in the Bronx — Norwood, West Farms and Soundview — which led the five boroughs in complaints to the city's 311 system with 135 or more.

Not picking up after your dog is a violation of the "Pooper Scooper" law, introduced in 1978, which carries a $250 fine. But, as DNAinfo notes, a sanitation officer must witness a violation in order to issue a ticket, according to the Department of Sanitation.

H/T @Urbanmyths

Workers back demolishing what's left of 98-100 Avenue A

The demolition has picked up again at 98-100 Avenue A, where Ben Shaoul is building a 6-floor residential building with 29 apartments.

Work had come to a stand still here between East Sixth Street and East Seventh Street for several months … but workers are back knocking over the carcass of the former theater-turned grocery. You can see the remnants of the auditorium in these photos from EVG reader Erika…





Demolition started last November. At this rate, the new building should be up by, say, 2021. Not that anyone is in a hurry for another brick box from Ben Shaoul.



Previously on EV Grieve:
A little bit of Hollywood on Avenue A

East Village Farms is closing; renovations coming to 100 Avenue A

Inside the abandoned theater at East Village Farms on Avenue A

Reader reports: Village Farms closing Jan. 31; building will be demolished

Asbestos abatement continues at 98 Avenue A, Ben Shaoul's latest East Village trophy

Ben Shaoul's proposed new Avenue A building will be 8 stories with a roof deck

Meanwhile, 98-100 Avenue A is lying in ruins

[Updated] Stray voltage warning along Ben Shaoul's Avenue A project

Con Ed has has put up cautionary tape and cones outside the rotting carcass of 98-100 Avenue A between East Sixth Street and East Seventh Street.



So be careful!

As for the address, there hasn't been any much activity in about six months at developer Ben Shaoul's incoming retail-residental complex. There are now approved plans for a 6-floor building with 29 apartments.

Meanwhile, the area under the sidewalk bridge has served as a makeshift shelter for a handful of people...


[Photo by Edward Arrocha]

Updated 7:01 p.m.

The warning signs are gone ...



Previously on EV Grieve:
A little bit of Hollywood on Avenue A

East Village Farms is closing; renovations coming to 100 Avenue A

Inside the abandoned theater at East Village Farms on Avenue A

Reader reports: Village Farms closing Jan. 31; building will be demolished

Asbestos abatement continues at 98 Avenue A, Ben Shaoul's latest East Village trophy

Ben Shaoul's proposed new Avenue A building will be 8 stories with a roof deck

Meanwhile, 98-100 Avenue A is lying in ruins

Saint Mark's Church Greenmarket reopens today

[Image via]

Let's to to the EVG inbox…

GrowNYC’s Saint Mark’s Church Greenmarket will reopen on Tuesdays beginning today. Located at East 10th Street and 2nd Avenue, this year Mi Ranchito, a New Farmer Development Program participant, will join the market and bring fresh vegetables, Mexican specialty produce and herbs from Monmouth County, New Jersey.

The Saint Mark’s Church Greenmarket, an East Village stand-by for fresh, local foods since 1981, will run until Nov. 25.

Farmers attending:

• Bread Alone Breads and pastries, some certified organic, from Ulster County, N.Y.
• Mi Ranchito Farm Vegetables, Mexican specialty produce, and herbs from Monmouth County, New Jersey
• Kernan Farms Vegetables from Cumberland County, N.Y.
• GrowNYC’s Food Scrap Compost Collection: 8 am – 2 pm
• GrowNYC’s Textile Recycling: 8 am – 4 pm

Hours: Tuesdays 8 a.m. – 6 p.m.

New Facebook group is advocating for a Trader Joe's on Avenue A

There is a new Facebook group titled "We Want a Trader Joe's at 98-100 Avenue A."

Most recently, the address was home to East Village Farms (RIP February 2012). Developer Ben Shaoul bought the property for $15.5 million. Permits filed with the DOB last December show plans for a proposed building that is 37,042 square feet — 29,881 for residential and 7,161 for a ground-floor retail space ... good for 8 stories and 43 residential units, plus bicycle storage in the basement and an "outdoor tenant recreation space" on the roof.



The new retail space is likely destined for some type of local or national franchise. Or bank branch.

Here is the group's mission statement:

This group is advocating for a Trader Joe's at 98-100 Avenue A, the former site of a great Korean deli. We are witnessing the loss of many neighborhood services, like grocery stores and laundromats, throughout New York. WE ALREADY HAVE A CHASE BRANCH AND A DUANE READE…

East Village resident Bryan Keller (an EVG Facebook friend) created the group. He has lived nearby for the past 22 years and says that the group is a form of "social persuasion to get services like good grocery stores that we need instead of more banks, drugstores and 7-Elevens."

And what about the Trader Joe's on East 14th Street near Union Square?

"[T]he long lines are proof that people really really like Trader Joe's," he says. "I try to go on the off hours. But it's really more about getting a decent grocer [at 98-100 Avenue A]. I really miss the old deli."

Previously on EV Grieve:
Inside the abandoned theater at East Village Farms on Avenue A

Reader reports: Village Farms closing Jan. 31; building will be demolished

That's it for East Village Farms

Asbestos abatement continues at 98 Avenue A, Ben Shaoul's latest East Village trophy

Meanwhile, 98-100 Avenue A is lying in ruins

[EVG file photo from December]

There hasn't been much activity lately at developer Ben Shaoul's incoming 8-story retail-residental complex at 98-100 Avenue A. For starters, the city has yet to approve the plans for the formally ornate theater turned grocery store. (The city last disapproved the plans on Feb. 14, according to public records.)

There are also two partial Stop Work Orders from late January … one for "failure to protect adjoining structures" and one for "debris/building — falling or in danger of falling."

And so, what's left of the now roofless building has been exposed to the elements… here's a view of things from Saturday via EVG reader Scoop Wilson…









… and here's another view from EVG reader Shannon Kendall …



Previously on EV Grieve:
A little bit of Hollywood on Avenue A

East Village Farms is closing; renovations coming to 100 Avenue A

Inside the abandoned theater at East Village Farms on Avenue A

Reader reports: Village Farms closing Jan. 31; building will be demolished

Asbestos abatement continues at 98 Avenue A, Ben Shaoul's latest East Village trophy

Ben Shaoul's proposed new Avenue A building will be 8 stories with a roof deck

Out and About in the East Village

In this weekly 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: Tom Clark
Occupation: Musician, Tom Clark and the High Action Boys
Location: Avenue D, between 6th and 7th
Time: 9 a.m. on Tuesday, Feb 4.

I’m from a place called DeKalb, Illinois, about an hour west of Chicago. I grew up down the block from Cindy Crawford. In my mind, I like to remember DeKalb as this very Norman Rockwell place. The flying logo with the corn is the famous logo for DeKalb. At one time it was the second most recognizable logo next to Coca-Cola.

Luckily there was a university there. There were farms. When you were 13 you were allowed to do farm labor and I worked in cornfields for seven years, 10 hours a day, seven days a week. You can’t take a day off cause the corn doesn’t take a day off — that’s what they’d tell you. And then when I was 16, I got a job working in a grocery store. So in the summers I was working about 95 hours a week, 7 days a week in the cornfields and at night at the grocery store.

I start doing gigs, doing shows when I was about 14. I got into music real early. I went to Northern Illinois University for like 2 years. I was in college and working to pay for it, doing my own stuff and I joined a punk band there called Blatant Dissent. But I was just kind of lost about what to do in life. I was about 19 and I wrote a letter to Marshall Crenshaw, the songwriter and singer. I had never written a fan letter or anything in my life and he actually wrote me back. I still have the letter saying ‘Go for it.’

Nobody in my family had ever gone anywhere. I grew up with four brothers who all still live within 20 minutes of my mom, which is great. They were all jocks. I had to wait till they left the house before I could play music because it was for pussies. If Marshall Crenshaw hadn’t told me to go for it, I’d probably still be managing the grocery store now, which wouldn’t be the worst thing. He told me to go for it in New York and I still blame him to this day. But I did it.

I had never seen an ocean in my life; I had never been anywhere; I had been on a plane like once. When I moved here, I said I was going to give myself three years tops. I was 20 and I look back about it now, moving here when this was a totally different place. Crack was king then. I didn’t even drink when I was in DeKalb or in high school. I was never a partier. Friday nights I would be home listening to Beatles bootlegs with my friends and practicing. But I learned how to drink when I moved here, unfortunately.

I moved here in ’86 with some guys from my hometown. Two of them didn’t last very long, but one of them is still here. I didn’t have a job and we didn’t have a place lined up. I stood in front of the Astor Place barber shop when they had three floors. I stood there for nine and a half hours out front with my guitar singing and the owner, Enrico Vezza, the guy that started the place back in the ‘50s, kept coming out and giving me money. I made like $48, someone gave me a Budweiser, someone gave me cold French fries, and the pretzel vendor next to me, who I still see around almost 30 years later, gave me a pretzel.

Enrico said, ‘Come back and see me.’ I thought he was going to give me a job sweeping up hair and I would have been fine with that, but instead, for almost two years, I went from chair to chair asking for requests and playing songs — eight hours a day, seven days a week, for $20 a day. I was supposed to get tips but a lot of people went to Astor Place because they didn’t have any fucking money, and a lot of those people did not want to be sung to. And I had to make a dollar or 50 cents. I saw a lot of crazy people. It was an experience because I was pretty fresh-faced. This was all an eye opener.

I had so much drive then because I needed to make money and survive. I gave myself a buck and a half to three bucks a day to eat. There was a deli on Broadway around the corner from Astor Place. This guy who wasn’t supposed to do it, he’d tell me, would sell me half an order of rice and beans for a buck and a half. If I was really feeling rich I would get myself a tall boy for 90 cents.

I played in Washington Square Park but I wasn’t one of those hippie guys. I had my case out there. I needed to make money. I would go early to Washington Square Park, I’d sing for an hour, then I’d go to Astor Place for eight hours, and then eventually, I started playing on Bleecker Street, playing for college kids. It was insane how much I played. Good for my chops but hard on the voice. Boy, you know, it was such a good time back then. I just wanted to play. I would have played anywhere, a funeral, a bris. I would have played anything.

For years, all I did was play bars. I started doing a shitload of gigs and playing on the street all the time. A lot of the gigs I was doing here, you might not have been paid a lot, but you got paid in free booze. This was around ’86. So I learned real fast and real well, to my chagrin sometimes. I’d take the D train to Bainbridge Avenue in the Bronx and play in Yonkers and here. It was all Irish bars then.

I wanted to really focus on song writing and playing my own stuff, because when you’re doing those Irish gigs in the Bronx and Yonkers, and whatever I did, you get a little sick of playing "Brown Eyed Girl," though it got me into a lot of dorm rooms. So I jumped into the songwriting thing pretty fast down here. I met this guy Doggy, who’s a legend down here. He was my drummer for a long time. We used to play in the street, on the subways, around Astor Place, by the cube. We were walking around trying to find our first gig here. He played stand-up snare drum with cymbal. I played guitar. I played everything a hundred miles an hour. I can’t even play that fast anymore.

And one day we went into Nightingales on 2nd Avenue and they were having a Hardcore Matinee and by chance the late Tom Price just told us to get up and play. That was our first gig in the East Village and Tom turned out to be this great guy. That’s how I got hooked up down here and then I met the person who was managing Nightingales started managing this place called Chameleons on 6th Street by Sidewalk and we started playing there every Friday night.

I lived in this place in Brooklyn for 21 years, from between ages 21 and 42. That’s a lot of life and a lot of growing up. It was kind of legendary. I had two floors in that place, it was an old pre-civil war bar and I had a full recording studio in the basement. It was right on top of the Manhattan Bridge, right on it. It was me, Lenny Kaye from the Patti Smith Group and Jim Carroll, the poet and rockstar, who lived upstairs. Every band that came through town crashed there. It was really a waystation for so many touring bands.

I used to have these Thanksgiving parties for like 15 years. The last one we had over 250 people. My mom was from a town of 600 people. She had never been on a plane before, but I flew her out for 8 years in a row. The last one we did I cooked like five turkeys and four hams. I used every oven in the building running up and down the stairs. Live music all night long.

Once in awhile you just hit a snare in life and just go into a funk. You never know what causes it and sometimes it’s hard to shake out of it. This piece of shit bought the building after all those years and started kicking everyone out. We were in court for a year and finally we had to go. They tore the place down and the asshole who bought the building ended up going to jail for green card fraud. I worked for so hard for so long on music, busting my ass and then sometimes when you don’t get enough back, or you get the praise and acclaim, but then you don’t get enough other stuff back, things don’t come to fruition, and you get a little frustrated.

Some people work through it, some people can snap out of it, or some people like me think it’s a good idea to sit and drink a case of beer and stare at the wall. Then the next thing you know six or seven years go by and you think, ‘Hmmm, I haven’t been doing the work I used to do.’ I got burned out emotionally. I just got tired of it. It sounds like a cop out, but it’s not. Sometimes you get your ass kicked from all different sides and you decide to just start going through the motions to do whatever gets you through the day.

Now I’ve got a new lease on life where I’m kind of inspired. I’ve got a new album coming out. It's coming full circle. The guy who answered my only fan letter and made me move to New York, Marshall Crenshaw, whose a legend and one of the greatest living songwriters and guitar players in the world, is playing on three of the songs. It’s kind of coming full circle. It’s special to me.

I also host the Treehouse at 2A on Sunday nights. It was something I started two and a half years ago. Over the years I told them they should have live music up there, so finally they let me. It’s every Sunday night and it’s free. I only book people who I trust and like because I don’t have the pressure to put on four bands a night. When someone says, I wrote this song last night, of course it could go either way, but it can be pretty exciting to hear someone doing something for the first time. I take the Treehouse very personally. I want to keep it going because there’s just nothing like it anymore. All those places are gone or closing. I’m trying to keep alive something kinda like I had when I first moved here.

I wasn’t exactly a badass out causing trouble kind of guy, but 29 years later I’m still here. My dad told me, I used to think you were the crazy one, but now I think you’re the smart one. I don’t have a house, I don’t have a bunch of kids, but I’ve at least lived my life.

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

A look back at 1941, when 98 Avenue A was a movie theater

So we've been monitoring the progress at the former 98-100 Avenue A, most recently East Village Farms. As you know, developer Ben Shaoul is building a new 8-story retail-residental complex with a roof deck.



[2009]

As we've previously pointed out, the address opened as the Avenue A Theatre in 1926 … and remained a theater until 1959.

On Monday, Off the Grid, the blog of the Greenwich Village Society for Historic Preservation, published two photos when the building was operating as a theater… here's Avenue A between East Seventh Street and East Sixth Street in 1941...





Meanwhile, EVG reader Trevor Ristow recently shared some photos of the old theater that he took before crews started to demolish the building…











There's not much of the building left today. At last look, the interior was completely gutted… basically down to four walls…

Here are more photos that we've published of the interior … here … and here.

[1941 images via the NYPL digital archives]

Previously on EV Grieve:
A little bit of Hollywood on Avenue A

East Village Farms is closing; renovations coming to 100 Avenue A

Inside the abandoned theater at East Village Farms on Avenue A

Reader reports: Village Farms closing Jan. 31; building will be demolished

Asbestos abatement continues at 98 Avenue A, Ben Shaoul's latest East Village trophy

Ben Shaoul's proposed new Avenue A building will be 8 stories with a roof deck

Ben Shaoul's proposed new Avenue A building will be 8 stories with a roof deck

The former 98-100 Avenue A, most recently East Village Farms, is a mere shell of its former self as developer Ben Shaoul continues plans to build a retail-residential space here between East Seventh Street and East Sixth Street.

And we have a few more specifics now about what's next here.

Permits filed with the DOB last Thursday show plans for a proposed building that is 37,042 square feet — 29,881 for residential and 7,161 for a ground-floor retail space ... good for 8 stories and 43 residential units, plus bicycle storage in the basement and an "outdoor tenant recreation space" on the roof. Ramy Issac is listed as the architect of record.

The rendering on the plywood shows a 7-story structure.




There's also a retail listing (PDF) for the space, which doesn't exactly account for what the new building will look like…



Previously on EV Grieve:
A little bit of Hollywood on Avenue A

East Village Farms is closing; renovations coming to 100 Avenue A

Inside the abandoned theater at East Village Farms on Avenue A

Reader reports: Village Farms closing Jan. 31; building will be demolished

Asbestos abatement continues at 98 Avenue A, Ben Shaoul's latest East Village trophy

The takedown of 100 Avenue A continues

[Bobby Williams]

Demolition work continues at 100 Avenue A… workers are gutting the former theater/grocery to make way for Ben Shaoul's 7-story retail-residential complex between East Sixth Street and East Seventh Street.

There seems to be a lot of interest among residents in this project, given its heart-of-the-East-Village location. These aerial views via EVG reader Paul Dougherty provide a look at what's left up top…




Previously on EV Grieve:
A little bit of Hollywood on Avenue A

East Village Farms is closing; renovations coming to 100 Avenue A

Demolishing 100 Avenue A

We noticed a few workers on top of 98-100 Avenue A on Friday… they were jackhammering away...



And a rooftop view...


[Photo by Paul Dougherty]

The former movie theater/grocery is coming down to make way for Ben Shaoul's retail-residential complex here between East Sixth Street and East Seventh Street. The rendering posted on the plywood shows a new building looking like this...



A retail listing that we posted in May stated that the building will contain 40 residential units.

Also on the plywood outside 98-100 Avenue A…



Previously on EV Grieve:
A little bit of Hollywood on Avenue A

East Village Farms is closing; renovations coming to 100 Avenue A

Inside the abandoned theater at East Village Farms on Avenue A

Reader reports: Village Farms closing Jan. 31; building will be demolished

Asbestos abatement continues at 98 Avenue A, Ben Shaoul's latest East Village trophy