The NYCHA needs $32 BILLION for repairs over the next five years (Curbed) More than 800 kids tainted by lead in NYCHA buildings, city says (Daily News)
Why Gabrielle Hamilton, chef/owner of Prune on First Street, would want to team up with an accused sex harasser (The Post)
An EVG reader shared this photo ... showing that GoLocker has set up shop at 508 E. 12th St. between Avenue A and Avenue B in a building owned by the Kushner Companies.
The Brooklyn-based company, which launched in 2014, delivers parcels to lockers stored in neighborhood businesses. There was a set of GoLockers in the back of the Gentle Wash Laundromat on Avenue A, though those were recently removed.
... and EVG reader Andy Reynolds reports that an equipment truck for "The Deuce" shoot on Seventh Street this week took out a nice-sized branch near Second Avenue...
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 or Lower East Side.
Name: Holly DeRito and Tulip Occupation: Owner, Waggytail Rescue Location: Avenue B between 10th and 11th Date: Tuesday, Nov. 28
I’m originally from the sticks of Pennsylvania. I grew up with horses on a small farm next to Allentown. I came here for the music scene. One of my friends was a roadie for a band, and I started seeing shows. I just became addicted to New York. I’ve been here for 24 years. I was into hardcore punk, alternative. The first show that I drove up to myself was Bad Brains at the Wetlands.
I was bold but I probably should have been more scared than I was. I was always a little bit fearless. I’ve always been a little bit shy but then I’ve been bold. I like challenges — so one of my friends dared me to go into one of those S&M places and try out to be a dominatrix.
I was going to school and working two jobs. I just did it for shits and giggles, and they were like, ‘Oh, you’re blond, you’re hired.’ So I ended up doing that and that’s how I put myself through college with no debt. And then I did a dominatrix workout program that was on HBO and VH1 Real Sex — it was called Slaversize.
I got really sick with Lyme disease, so I didn’t start that again, but I adopted my dog Taco, and he was just magical. The day that I adopted him, two of my friends died in a murder-suicide, and I just remember he was so scared and I just clung to him. He was my soulmate dog.
Then I fostered a dog for another group, and the second that dog was adopted, Taco just looked so sad. So I road my bike up to the city pound to jailbreak him a friend. There I ran into a girl I had worked with as a dominatrix. She was running a pug rescue.
She pulled me into the back to where all of the dogs were on death row that the public didn’t see. She was like, ‘These are the ones that aren’t going to get out, who can you take? Can you help me?’ And I went home with seven dogs that night. I couldn’t leave any of them. So I went home and called my friends and said, ‘Hey can you watch a dog for a few days?’
I had no idea what I was doing — and that’s kind of how I started. It became like — I can save more. I was so passionate, and it was a challenge. I officially formed a rescue in 2004 and it’s just grown from there. The city has changed a lot in that there are almost no small dogs or family friendly dogs in the city shelters, which is great because people have started spaying and neutering. They have started taking better care of their pets. The city has become really pro-dog and dog friendly in comparison to what it used to be. Here for dogs to breed and have puppies, you almost have to make a conscious effort. They have to be in heat and find each other down the hallway and down the stairs. In Los Angeles, Dallas, and elsewhere in the south, they don’t spay/neuter and the dogs are just running in yards. They’re just completely overwhelmed with dogs.
We had a waiting list of people who wanted to adopt dogs. I went to Los Angeles to dogsit for one of my friends and saw the shelters there. I decided to form a program called One-by-One. We supply the carriers, we pay for the ticket for the dog as well as the leashes, the harnesses — everything. We drop off the dog at the airport, pick it up on the other side and a person just flies with the dog. Everybody said it couldn’t be done, and it seemed like it was impossible, but people love it. Everybody who’s done it has done it again. We’ve gotten about 500 dogs that way — one by one.
I have a little bit more faith in humanity. We get adoption donations. The dogs that are coming in tonight on American Airlines are from the highest kill shelter in Dallas, and then all the fosters are going to pick them up. I’m going to microchip them myself. I have my own little branch in Los Angeles with my system and my setup with the shelters and the veterinarians and we also partner up with a few groups. We take in dogs about every two weeks. I formed a buddy system where people who have fostered help the new [dog owners].
I really like anything hands-on. My mom was a nurse and my grandmother was a lab tech. I grew up going into the lab, visiting my grandmother and being fascinated by tumors when I was 6 years old. That stuff is kind of normal to me. I grew up next to a wildlife sanctuary, and because my mom is a nurse, we used to take in all types of orphaned animals and birds with broken wings. It’s an addiction, and it’s also a little bit of a gamble because I agree to a certain amount of dogs. If I don’t find fosters, then I’m out on the street with the dog. Hasn’t happened yet but I’m at the max amount allowed in my building – so yeah, I’d be sleeping at Remedy diner.
If people want to help we have a little fostering section on Waggytailrescue.org. For support we have trainers who we work with. A lot of the fosters end up adopting. A lot of people are considering adopting a dog and they’re not sure it’s the right time, so they’ll foster for a week or two and see if they’re ready for the commitment. If they’re not ready, they’ll maybe foster again until the right time or the right dog, so it’s a good system.
James Maher is a fine art and studio photographer based in the East Village. Find his website here.
Apparently Nie's Service Center was servicing more than feet and backs at 125 E. Fourth St.
DNAinfo reports that the spa between First Avenue and Second Avenue was busted for alleged prostitution.
According to a lawsuit filed last week by the city, cops went undercover here four times last March and April.
In two of those instances, parlor workers agreed to perform massage services without the required license, and in the other two they agreed to have sex with undercover officers in exchange for cash, the suit states.
An undercover officer who visited the spa on April 20 and 25 agreed with a female employee to pay $40 for a 30-minute massage and $120 for sexual intercourse, according to an affidavit attached to the lawsuit. He left the spa before she could perform either.
And...
The lawsuit names the building's commercial space and its owner, Cashew Associates, L.P., as defendants as well as the unnamed spa operators, identified only as "John Doe" and "Jane Doe."
It accuses the defendants of creating both a public nuisance and a criminal nuisance, demanding they each pay $1,000 for every day they allowed the public nuisance to continue and for the court to shutter the space for a year.
A hearing is scheduled for today. The spa is currently closed.
There is also a lone Yelp review for Nie's. And the one-star review is everything one can hope for in a Yelp review:
This is the low rent massage place I sometime go for walk-ins because it's so convenient. There have been times the tables were a bit ripe but... it's so cheap! I tried to get in & was told I'd have a half hour wait, so I went outside again & talked to a couple neighbors. They told me a story about the place!
Neither had ever been there, but about a month ago some crazy guy had tried to leave without paying. A little Chinese lady had him in a headlock. One of my friends went to help and then another. A struggle was described. The guy took a shit on the floor! The cops came & brought him away. My friend said, "After all that, they NEVER have made eye contact and even waved, nodded or said thanks."
I went back just past the half hour I was told I'd need to wait, was ushered to a table and took off my clothes. Some guy a sheet over was moaning like a douchebag. Now... I could've really used that massage. My right shoulder and wrist are all balled up. But the lady asked him if he wanted more time and he did! She said she was sorry and I answered that I wished she'd told me before I took my clothes off.
The most annoying part was that three times I went to get my glasses and iPhone (diversion) and three times one of those bitches came in, told me to lay down (like a dog) and picked up & put down the timer like they were ready to start.
How to save locally owned small businesses (CityLab)
Department of Transportation launches a study of bicycle intersection safety, including mixing zones like at First Avenue and Ninth Street where cyclist Kelly Hurley was killed by a truck (DNAinfo ... previously)
Rubie’s Costume Company, an affiliate of New York Costumes, buys the retail condominium at 808 Broadway and 108-110 Fourth Ave. that houses the shop (The Real Deal)
About the new wave of Vietnamese restaurants in the East Village (The New Yorker)
More about the Darkstar Coffee-In Living Stereo mashup (Patch ... previously)
And check out Flatbush, the rescued juvenile red-tailed hawk, go at it with a squirrel in Tompkins Square Park via Goggla...
Summer of Love '67 slideshow in Tompkins Square Park (The New York Times)
Details on a City Council District 2 Candidate Forum on Monday on Sixth Street (The Lo-Down)
Inside Kushner Companies’ murky relationship with rent stabilization (The Real Deal)
A revival of "Farrebique," Georges Rouquier's acclaimed 1940s documentary on farm life in France (Film Anthology Archives)
A wide-ranging interview with Jim Jarmusch, whose band has released a new EP (The Village Voice)
STIK’s 7-Story mural on Allen Street raised $12,500 for the Tenement Museum (BoweryBoogie)
The owners of Babeland, the sex-toy shop with several locations, including on Rivington, have sold the business to rivals Good Vibrations (DNAinfo)
French Roast closed after 24 years on Sixth Avenue and 11th Street (Grub Street)
Updated with a statement from Jessica Goldman Srebnick, CEO/founder of Goldman Global Arts, landlord of the mural wall.
That's it for David Choe's mural on East Houston and the Bowery. The mural was painted over in the last 24 hours.
It's not immediately known who was responsible for the white out. The mural had been defaced multiple times since it was completed early on June 5. (The work was scheduled to be on view through October.)
Choe's work on the high-profile wall caused a stir, bringing back the story from 2014 in which he bragged about a sexual assault before later saying that he made the whole thing up. However, that wasn't an isolated incident. As Caroline Caldwell detailed at Hyperallergic, "The artist has an impressive history of making public statements that attempt to normalize or make a joke out of rape." An anti-rape protest and performance art piece titled "NO MEANS NO" is scheduled here today at 5 p.m. (Updated: Find a video clip here.)
Meanwhile, Choe issued an apology on his Instagram account yesterday ... complete with a blank image...
Jessica Goldman Srebnick, CEO/founder of Goldman Global Arts, landlord of the mural wall, posted a lengthy response about the Choe mural on her Instagram account...
There were activities across the city yesterday related to the International Women's Strike ... more than 1,000 people (per media estimates) gathered in Washington Square Park late in the afternoon for a rally and march to Zuccotti Park ...
Thousands of women and their allies gathered in Washington Square Park late Wednesday afternoon to demand equality and justice for all women, particularly those who are most at risk to the Trump agenda — immigrant women were joined by trans women, queer women, sex workers, nurses, and labor and Black Lives Matter organizers.
The rally, which capped off the Day Without A Woman strike, demanded justice for all, regardless of economic status. At one point the crowd closest to the Washington Square Arch chanted, "Feminism for the masses, not just the ruling classes!"
EVG contributor Derek Berg was at the start of the march, and shared these photos...
• NO congregating in Santa costumes
• NO throwing up on the sides of buildings
• NO public sex acts
• NO excessive drunkenness
A member of NYCR, the group who posted the flyers, told Gothamist yesterday that they reached out to SantaCon organizers to call off the event.
"Our country feels so divided right now that we are all searching for things that unify us," their spokesperson said. "The one thing that I have found that we all have in common is our disdain for SantaCon. Over the past few years myself and others have witnessed several horrible acts ..."
"We have reached out to organizers and asked them to cancel but have not heard back," they continued. "We hope they will come to their senses. We hope the organizers hear us loud and clear and are aware that we will be out in force tomorrow to stop SantaCon if they don't cancel."
They add that anyone interested in spending their Saturday aiding their crusade should meet up at noon Saturday at Bar 13. "We want to make it clear to the young people out there that this is not just a bunch of 40 and 50 year olds and we have several people under the age of 35 planning on participating."
Other media outlets reported on the story as well.
Gary Egan, general manager of Pete’s Tavern on Irving Place told CBS 2 that he would be cool with seeing SantaCon go.
“I really wish it would be canceled,” Egan said. “It’s turned into an abomination of drunk Santa Clauses fighting; vomiting all over the city. and it sends a terrible message to children.”
CBS 2 also talked with one SantaCon fan.
“SantaCon canceled – what? What?” said Zavier Dahlbenza of East New York, Brooklyn. “The drunkenness, the Santa costumes — I love all of it! I don’t think it should be canceled at all. I think it should keep going.”
There is also a Boycott SantaCon Twitter account (not sure if this is affiliated with the group who created the posters. This account started in 2014.)
SantaCon is an alt-right convention with red hats instead of white. Dial 311 and report people to the naughty list.
Extra officers are working tomorrow for @santacon to ensure everyone a good & safe time while being respectful of our neighbors pic.twitter.com/d7LGqg1OUn
"Smithereens" starts a weeklong revival today at the Metrograph, the newish theater complex down on Ludlow Street.
The 1982 dark comedy, which marked Susan Seidelman's directorial debut, is set in the East Village (and other downtown locales). Wren (Susan Berman), a suburban New Jersey escapee, is eager for downtown fame, plastering "missing" posters of herself on the subway and elsewhere. She sees a meal ticket in Eric (Richard Hell), the hot guy with a short attention span in a band. And there's the too-nice Paul (Brad Rijn), who pursues the uninterested Wren. Hustling ensues.
Seidelman started filming in late 1979, and continued on and off for the next 18 months. (Production shut down when Berman broke a leg during rehearsal.) "Smithereens," made for $40,000, was the first American indie invited to compete for the Palme d'Or at the Cannes Film Festival.
She went on to make several female-focused comedies, including 1985's "Desperately Seeking Susan" with Rosanna Arquette and Madonna and 1989's "She-Devil" with Roseanne Barr and Meryl Streep, among others. (She also directed the pilot for "Sex and the City.")
I spoke with Seidelman about "Smithereens" and her follow-up, "Desperately Seeking Susan," also partly filmed in the East Village, during a phone call last week. Here's part of that conversation, edited for length and clarity.
On why she wanted to tell this story in "Smithereens":
I was living in the East Village and I was also at NYU. And at the time, NYU Film School, the graduate film school, was on Second Avenue — part of it was where the old Fillmore East used to be. So for three years, that area around Seventh Street and Second Avenue was my stomping grounds.
I started NYU in 1974, and I was there until 1977. So it was interesting to watch the transition from the older hippie generation and hippie-style shops and people as it started transitioning into the punk and new wave kind of subculture. I was a music person, so I frequented CBGB and Max’s Kansas City at that time. And so, that world was interesting to me, and telling a story set in that world about a young woman who’s not from that world, but wants to be part of it in some way, was both semi-personal and just of interest.
On production shutting down:
There were challenges throughout the shoot because I never had all the money. The budget ended up being about $40,000, but I probably only had about $20,000 at any given moment. I was borrowing and racking up bills. I wasn’t really thinking about how I was going to pay it. I figured I’d get to that when I needed to pay it.
Aside from those challenges, when Susan Berman fell off a fire escape and broke her leg during rehearsal, there was no getting around that. We had to quit filming. I kind of thought, oh, you know, fuck it — I’m not going to let this stop me. It made me actually more determined. I had the time to look at what was working and what wasn’t working, and I learned a lot of stuff. I started editing the footage. I could rewrite stuff and change the story a bit.
On casting Richard Hell:
That was when we redefined the character of Eric, who was originally not played by Richard Hell. It was played by somebody else who was not a rock-and-roller — he was more of a downtown painter/artsy type, not a musician — and was also played by a European actor.
By recasting and redefining that role with Richard Hell in mind, it shaped the tone of the movie and changed it, I think, in a good direction. I’m not going to give names, but the other actor — the other person is a working actor, as opposed to Richard Hell, who was acting in the movie, but was more of a presence and an iconic figure even at that time. So trying to make the character of Eric blend in with the real Richard Hell added a level of authenticity to the film.
On filming in the East Village:
In the scene when Wren is waiting out on the sidewalk and the landlady throws her clothing out the window and then splashes her with water, all the people and all the reactions in the background were from the people living on that block who had come out to watch.
At the time, New York was coming out the bankruptcy crisis. There weren’t a lot of police on the street, there wasn’t a lot of red tape and paperwork. These days to film on the street, you have to get a mayor’s permit — so many levels of bureaucracy. Back then, either it didn’t exist … but also I was naïve to what probably needed to be done.
We just showed up with cameras and we filmed. We had some people working on the crew who were friends and they told crowds lining in the street — just don’t look in the camera. Sometimes they did, sometimes they didn’t, but it was all very spontaneous.
That’s the advantage of doing a super low-budget movie — you can just go with the flow. For example, there’s a scene with a kid who’s doing a three-card Monte thing on the sidewalk. He was a kid we saw in Tompkins Square Park with his mother. We didn’t have to worry about SAG or unions or anything. I thought he was interesting and [we asked his mother] if they come to this address at this time and be in our movie.
On the lead characters:
My intention wasn’t to make likable characters. My intention was to make interesting characters and who had some element of ambiguity. There are things that I like about Wren; on the other hand, I think she’s obviously somebody who uses people and is incredibly narcissistic. I’m aware of that. But she’s also somebody who is determined to recreate herself and to live the kind of life that she wants to live, and redefine herself from her background, which you get a little hint at, this boring suburban New Jersey life she must have run away from.
On the independent film scene at the time:
The definition of an independent filmmaker has changed so radically. Nowadays, being an independent filmmaker could mean you’re making a $5 million movie that’s really financed by the Weinstein Company, or it could mean you're doing a cellphone movie like “Tangerine.”
But back then, there weren’t that many independent filmmakers. I know there were some people working out of Los Angeles who were doing stuff and a small pocket of people in New York City. So either you knew them or you were friends with them or you just knew what they were doing and had mutual friends. It was truly a small community. And within that community, there were also a definite relationship between people who were musicians, filmmakers or graffiti artists.
So everyone was borrowing people, trading information or sharing resources. Also, the world wasn’t as competitive as it is today. People were eager and willing to help somebody who was a filmmaker would act in somebody else’s film or tell them about a location or a musician. It was pretty simple, like — hey, let’s make a movie, without a lot of calculation.
On her follow-up film, "Desperately Seeking Susan:"
I didn’t have anything lined up after "Smithereens." I didn’t know what I wanted to do next. I just finished the movie when it was accepted into the Cannes Film Festival.
But I did know that there were very few female film directors. And the one or two I had heard about who had made an interesting independent film ... I knew that your follow-up movie, especially if it was going to be financed by a studio, you needed to be smart about the choice. You had to make a movie that you could still be creatively in charge of, or else you could get lost in the shuffle.
For about a year and a half, I was reading scripts. And they were, for the most part, terrible. I just figured these couldn’t be my next movie. I have nothing to say about this kind of material.
So then I got this script. It was a little different than the way it ended up being, but it was called "Desperately Seeking Susan." I liked that the character, Susan, felt like she could be kind of related to Wren in "Smithereens." I thought I could bring something unique to that kind of a role. So I didn't feel like I was out of my element there.
And also, part of the film was set in the East Village, a neighborhood that I loved and knew. The other good thing was I was so familiar with the characters and able to add my own spin using a lot of people from the independent film community in small parts, like Rockets Redglare, John Lurie and Arto Lindsay. Richard Hell has a cameo.
On working with Madonna:
At the time, Madonna was not famous when we started out. We were just filming on the streets like she was a regular semi-unknown actress. So there wasn’t a lot of hoopla around the film.
And then, you know, so much of life is about being there with the right thing and the right timing. It just so happened that the movie came out at the moment that her "Like A Virgin" album was released and they coincided and she became a phenomenon. But since that wasn’t during the actual filming, there wasn’t the kind of pressure that one would normally feel if you were working with a big star or a a super-famous person.
On the legacy of "Smithereens":
I think I was trying to document what it felt like to live in that neighborhood in that part of the city at that time. I never really thought about it in terms of whether the film would pass the test of time or be a time capsule or anything.
But the fact that it ended up being pretty authentic to the environment, to the neighborhood, is maybe what enabled it to pass the test of time.
-----
The Metrograph is showing "Smithereens," which features a score by The Feelies, on a new 35-millimeter print courtesy of Shout Factory LLC. Seidelman will be attending tonight's 7 screening. Details here.
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.
Name: Leslie McEachern Occupation: Owner, Angelica Kitchen Location: East 12th Street between 1st and 2nd Ave Time: 2 p.m. on Monday, Jan. 25
I was born and raised in Greenville, S.C. … nothing could be finer. I came to New York numerous times in the 1970s for visits, for fun. I was in college from 1967-71 and I was at a large school — the University of Tennessee — that had a lot of fringe people from Miami and New York City.
So I met all of these great, outrageous folks and got very much into an alternative lifestyle — meaning sex, drugs, and rock-n-roll. I had a great time and was introduced to the alternative lifestyle, the vegetarian way of doing things. The back-to-the-earth movement was becoming strong at that point and it interested me a lot. I started working in a warehouse in Raleigh, N.C., for a company called Laurel Brook Foods and they were a wholesaler of natural foods. I also helped start a co-op there called Noah’s, which at that time had three families and now I’ve heard it has over 5,000 — still up and strong running.
I had started a small business representing certain natural foods, but I was going to different health-food stores around the country and trade shows and demonstrating their products. One day in 1981, I was at Greenberg’s. It was a very old school natural food store on First Avenue, between Seventh and St. Mark's Place. I was in there doing a miso demonstration and handing out samples and Frank Simons, the guy who had just bought Angelica Kitchen, walked in. I didn’t know him at the time but I had been a fan of Angelica. He and I caught each other’s eyes, to say it mildly. We got engaged and I moved from the mountains of North Carolina to New York to be with him. That was what got me here – falling in love and doing the right turn so many of us know about.
Angelica was at 42 St. Marks Place at that time. It was a small place and we had very few seats, so we had an open policy about seating. People came in and sat in any empty chair in the restaurant, whether it was a two top or a four top, so lots of connections were made that way. That was very fun. It was very community spirited. Organic wasn’t as much of an issue at that time but there were a lot of products available. That became my mission once I was in charge of the restaurant after Frank died. I really believed in the small, independent organic farmer as stewards of the land, so I was able to get on my soapbox through having Angelica Kitchen and really support the farmers.
There was this great couple called George and Tilly who were on Fifth Street between Second and Third and they would come in on Friday and Saturday from their farm in New Jersey. They would bring truckloads of fabulous produce and apple cider. You’d see everybody there from John McEnroe to the people who lived down the street. Everybody in town who ate clean knew about George and Tilly. I would be running back and forth with a hand truck with cases and cases of kale and collards and turnips and apples.
After Frank died, I moved over to Seventh Street between B and C. The great thing about the East Village is always the people, and I really felt deeper into the heart of the neighborhood. In those days it was so convivial and neighborly. It was very community driven. I loved it. There is a reason the East Village has the reputation that it does, historically, because it was a wild and crazy place, and yes it was sometimes scary. I had amazing things happen, including people stealing from me. It had kind of an outlaw feeling. In the moment it was frustrating, but you just kept going.
I built the 12th Street location in 1987, so it’s still the new place. It used to be the Café Royal when it was Jewish Broadway and all kind of characters were in here, including Bugsy Siegel and George and Gracie, and just on and on. I loved the fact that it was a gathering spot back in the day and now since 1987 it has been too.
Before the city made recycling law, I was already doing it, and not only recycling with recyclable goods, but also of compost, which of course made the weight on our garbage go down because we weren’t putting all of the refuse in the garbage bags. We were saving it in five gallon buckets to be used in a composting operation that Christina had set up on my block on 7th Street.
You know who didn’t like that? The garbage carters. You know who ran the garbage carters? It was an organized group called The Family. Things started happening to Christina. I think her truck got blown up. I’m pretty sure that’s the right story. I’m not sure if it was those people, but it was some kind of a competition issue.
Then one day right after I had opened on 12th Street, a group of shall we say gentlemen — four rather stocky men in suits — came to the front door to talk to me. So I called this guy, Carl Hultberg, who was handling the recycling for NYU, to come over and sit with us. These guys had come to intimidate me to stop my composting and recycling. They were at that time charging by the weight, and the weight wasn’t what it should have been according to them. So Carl, who was a strong activist and informed recycling man, started laying out information for them. They were claiming that they were recycling, these four men, and Carl said, "We would like to see your recycling operation. Can we go there?"
You could just see them think, "Who do these kids think they are?" But Carl was asking them very pointed questions to prove they weren’t recycling. It was a funny meeting. They walked out and they got nothing from us. We were cheering and high fiving. That was a great moment for not only Angelica Kitchen, but also a big moment in the changes that were coming. I don’t know if it influenced those four men or not, but now that recycling is a law and composting is encouraged, it’s kind of interesting to look at the progress we made.
Now things have changed drastically. From being, I guess they say farm-to-table, long before it had a terminology. Now a lot of people say that’s what they do, but there’s no way to verify. So I feel for the consumers because people who are really looking to support that movement are just kind of up to the whim of the people who are doing the branding of any particular location.
Some people are doing a very good job and some people are taking advantage of the trend — local, regional, artisan. That’s always just been how we do things here. But I don’t want it to be negative — I want it to be positive. We’re the real deal. We’re doing what other people say they’re doing. You can always count on Angelica to be completely plant-based and organic. We’re here seven days a week, lunch and dinner.
James Maher is a fine art and studio photographer based in the East Village. Find his website here.
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.
Name: Spike Polite Occupation: Musician, Lead Singer for SEWAGE, Actor, Model Date: Thursday, Jan. 7 at 7:30 p.m. Location: The Edge, 3rd Street between 1st and 2nd Avenue
I was born on a military base. I think it was Buffalo. My father was in the Cold War and in the end of Vietnam. We lived on military bases and then upstate, but I was forced to come here as an early teenager. My mom had me institutionalized, like for suicidal tendencies. I never thought you could be forced to be stuck in New York City, but it happened to me. I was 14 going on 15. Then they put through me the person in need of supervision, even though I wasn’t in need of supervision and then they sent me to Lincoln Hall. I had to go through all these foster homes and they kept me down here. Then when I got out of that they wouldn’t have me back.
I just met other people and it was always my goal to do something with music. I went to CBs. This was in 1988. When I was a kid skateboard fashion was coming around and people were listening to a lot of punk rock. As a child, my mother always took away my guitars and took away all the stuff. I grew up loving the Ramones, Sex Pistols, the Exploited, GBH — I liked them from both sides of the pond. I used to literally play over and over all the Sex Pistol songs on the album through my guitar and amp as a kid, and of course AC/DC and Black Sabbath too.
I started living in the squats. I just knew that this was rough and tough but it was easier than being in all of those foster homes and detention centers. At least here I had a fighting chance that I could have allies. The thing was, I didn’t have any direction or anything like that. I didn’t have a family to say, here is a trust fund, now you should go to college and blah blah blah. I didn’t have anything like that. I had a survival-level type of thing ... so I banded together with these other people and we lived in this abandoned building.
We’d find things on the street because New York was a different place then. Everything was on the street. They’d throw it away and you could take it yourself and sell it, right from the garbage where you found it. So we would go and take that stuff and we’d put it up in the squat and we’d make these little kingdoms and comfy crashpads and flophouses and then we’d go out during the day. Everybody would go out to make some kind of money and figure out whether they wanted to delve deeper into having nothing and do drugs and raise money for drugs, or if you wanted to go out and try to elevate yourself or to get up out of that stuff.
The 8th Street squat came after 3BC. 3BC was the headquarters of punk rockers, with spiked-up jackets and spiked-up hair, and colored hair and tight jeans and all that good business, whereas the other squats were mainly for the crusties. They were like the downtrodden with the pieces of rope for hair, and they would wear the baggy clothes and they looked like the color of concrete. They thought they were peaceful, so we were the anarchy punks, the punk rockers with the spikey hair, so we were different than them. 3BC was a flophouse of just like 50 to a 100, 200 punks crashing up there. A lot of them were visiting from out of town and most of the people in the squats, even the crusties, were from out of town too. Very few of them were from here or even from the state.
Punk rock ... I would define it from my point of view, basically it was working class, up to middle-class people. It was a rowdy, rebellious culture who had a reason to be rebellious because their way of life and everything was messed up. We were independent rebellious. We’re more like cats. Skinheads act like dogs; they want to be in packs. Punk rockers are independent people and they could take it or leave it. A lot of those people were Oliver Twist-type people. They’re paupers; they’re poor, but they’ll give you anything, the shirt off their back. They have nothing but you have their loyalty, almost like William Wallace of "Braveheart." The heart matters good, but it matters if the order is with you, but then in runk rock if you get too close to the order, you’re a sellout.
James will have more from Spike Polite in the next Out and About in the East Village...
James Maher is a fine art and studio photographer based in the East Village. Find his website here.
You may have seen the news earlier today that designer Patricia Field is calling it quits, with an announcement that she will close her retail space at 306 Bowery between Bleecker and East Houston in the Spring.
“I know that my clients are going to be sad, because they come in and tell me that there’s no store like this in the world,” the 74-year-old fashion icon told the Daily News. “But I’ve gotta watch out for my health and myself.”
The native New Yorker responsible for making Manolo Blahnik and Oscar de la Renta household names by strapping them onto Carrie Bradshaw on “Sex and the City” revealed that she is shuttering her 4,000-square-foot shop.
The fiery-haired Field opened her first store in the West Village in 1966 before moving to 10 E. Eighth St. in 1971, where she catered to fashionistas for 30 years.
Jude (Asa Butterfield) is a teenage boy who is trying to reconnect with his father Les (Ethan Hawke) in 1987 Manhattan. When Jude's friend, Teddy (Avan Jogia), dies of a drug overdose, Jude finds himself befriending a group of friends who are against drugs, alcohol, profanity and sex and live for punk-style rock music. When he meets Eliza (Hailee Steinfeld), who is sixteen years old and is pregnant with Teddy's child, he and Les are forced to be her rock as she struggles through her pregnancy and early motherhood while Jude struggles with his feelings for her and his relationship with his father.
And here's the trailer ...
The Los Angeles Times has an interview with the filmmakers here. The the article, Spring Berman, who lived in the East Village during the Tompkins Square Riots of 1988, which serve as a backdrop to "Saints," discusses filming challenges and then vs. now:
The tops of buildings hadn't changed, and there are still street signs and a few landmarks that have not been turned into a Chipotle or a gourmet frozen yogurt shop. But they are becoming fewer and farther between. Even graffiti had become a scarce commodity — which led to some creative solutions.
"If we saw a graffiti-covered truck, we'd flag it down and give them 50 bucks to park in front of a Citi bike stand," Pulcini said.
The filmmakers did make use of one natural resource that always seems to be in abundance in the city. "I would often see our production designer picking up garbage," Pulcini said. "I'm not going to pay for garbage in New York," Springer Berman added.
"Saints" looks to capture both the beauty and messiness of the past, to walk up against a line of romanticization while being careful not to cross it. "I get irritated sometimes when people say how difficult it is in New York now and how much better it was then," Pulcini said. "Yes, it's hard because it's expensive and you're living with 13 roommates if you're in your 20s. But back then you were mugged and pulled into a stairway at gunpoint. There was a rat in every apartment. I don't know that it was easier."
The book is an anthology covering 10 years of the defunct magazine (the first U.S. magazine by and for sex workers and allies), which was birthed in the East Village in 2005.
The magazine was crafted in the early years at the tables of Avenue A’s Café Pick Me Up and edited at Ludlow’s Earth Matters (RIP), and financed by repeated fundraising events at the Slipper Room. It was first for sale at Bluestockings. (I recall seeing brightly colored neon posters and fliers for the magazine all over the neighborhood back in the day.)
The former editors, writers, artists and staffers shared funny, touching and emotional stories about how sex work affected them and their friends, families and coworkers, and read some of the early responses to their work – such as a bowl of torn-up copies of their first issue, snail-mailed back to them with some seriously nasty notes.
It was also opening night of the art show “Spark to a Flame,” featuring art from the magazine.
The art show, curated by Damien Luxe, features artwork by artists Fly Orr, Molly Crabapple, Hawk Kinkaid, Xandra Ibarra/La Chica Boom and Cristy Road, and is still on view at Dixon Place, 161 Chrystie between Rivington and Delancey, until March 20.
“Spark to a Flame” is made possible in part with public funds from the Manhattan Community Arts Fund, supported by the New York City Department of Cultural Affairs in partnership with the City Council and administered by Lower Manhattan Cultural Council.
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. James is traveling this week. East Village photographer Stacie Joy compiled today's post.
By Stacie Joy
Name:Seth Tobocman Occupation: Comic book artist Location: ABC No Rio, 156 Rivington Street Date: Oct. 7, 2:53 pm
I grew up in Cleveland Heights, Ohio. I was born in Texas but really only lived there until I was 2 and have very little memory of it. My family are basically Clevelanders. Several generations back they migrated there, Jews from Poland. My grandfather did not want to live in Brooklyn because he would be forced to be Orthodox. He said “I did not come to America to live in Poland.” So he went to Cleveland where he had no family and no one could tell him what to do.
I moved to NYC in 1976, year of the bicentennial. I was initially a student at NYU and stayed in the dorms. I had an apartment in Greenwich Village for a short period of time, got thrown out of there and moved to the East Village in 1979. I moved to my East 3rd Street (near Avenue A) apartment, which was $150 a month in rent. I dropped out of college, had no money. I knew I wanted to be an artist but I wasn’t sure what kind. I was interested in underground filmmakers like Kenneth Anger but not interested in mainstream comics. I was uncertain what I wanted to do and it was cheap to live here.
Someone got stabbed in front of the building the day I moved in. We had a slumlord who put a cheap lock on the front door. A lock that neighborhood 12 year olds could break. There were many drug addicts. They would wait next to the mailboxes and when elderly people would get their checks, they would rob them.
Once I was jumped — someone held a wire around my neck but a neighbor came to my aid. Said he was a cop and had a gun and badge in his pocket, which was a lie. He scared off the guy trying to rob me.
We were in court for several years as the landlord tried to raise the rent. We went on rent strikes, and had a great tenants' union. The outcome of the time spent in court was that we became rent stabilized, which was terrific. A lot of the tenants were older folks who had been part of the antiwar movement and they were happy to have meetings again. We would meet in the hallway of the building. We all wanted an affordable place to live.
Back then it was a place to buy drugs. There were visible lines of people waiting to buy heroin. Kids were getting shot. There were abandoned buildings and a sense of neglect. People came here for their vices. To buy drugs, prostitutes. The stereotypical Alphabet City.
There were also places like CHARAS, the Nuyorican Poets Café and the community gardens — where people were working to change the neighborhood. There were ethnic restaurants, different languages being spoken ... and no chain stores.
I am proud to be part of a group that has stood for community ideals since 1980 — the magazine World War 3 Illustrated. We were comic book artists who wanted to make a difference. It started in 1979 as a response to the Iran-hostage crisis. The magazine is an all-volunteer, self-published collective, a sweat-equity co-op that still runs today. We were the first to support the squatters movement, we covered events like the MOVE bombing in Philadelphia and the Mumia Abu-Jamal trial. Issues that we were involved in, and local issues. You can buy the magazine at MoRUS, Bluestockings, Revolution Books and St. Mark’s Bookshop.
Favorite moments in the neighborhood? The time the squatters retook the East 13th Street squats. It was on July 4, 1995, and squatters reentered the buildings and hung huge banners from the fire escapes. Lots of people were returning to the area from watching the fireworks — all viewing the events unfold. The police totally overacted and stormed the buildings, but all the squatters had escaped already and the police found only an empty buildings. Classic.
I love that the demolition of the Umbrella House [on Avenue C] was stopped. Oh, and the fact that ABC No Rio is still standing. It’s a real accomplishment. And, I also had great sex in the middle of the night once with a British ballet dancer by the East River!
That "Carrie Diaries" shoot has been going on this evening on East Seventh Street near Second Avenue... action for the "Sex and the City" TV prequel is mostly outside Café Della Pace at the moment... might be here for awhile. Pull up a seat!
Oh! "The Carrie Diaries" will be filming around the neighborhood today... signs are up along East Seventh Street, and perhaps elsewhere... crews for the CW prequel to "Sex and the City" were shooting on Essex Street Tuesday...
It revolves around the eponymous Carrie, a shy high-school girl who uses her newly discovered telekinetic powers to exact revenge on those who tease her during her senior year of high school in the early 1980s and part of her life in New York working as a writer.
The once vibrantly creative and bohemian Lower East Side is a thing of the past, with the final nail in the coffin coming next month, when Motor City Bar closes its doors for the last time. The bar is open over the next few weeks, so make sure you stop by for a few cocktails in the meantime.
On Sunday, June 23rd, come and celebrate 17 years of sex, drugs and rock n roll with some of the best people you'd ever care to meet. Come and give a long kiss goodbye to the amazing owners, bartenders, dancers, DJs, Detroit memorabilia, and those infamous bathrooms!
A big thank you to all those who have lived, loved, laughed, cried, danced, yelled, fallen down, met future partners, found jobs, been inspired, or just generally had a great time in this wonderful establishment these past two decades. To say it will be sorely missed would be an understatement. RIP.
Note: The bar will remain open until midnight on the 30th of June, when the keys are finally handed over.
The Museum of Reclaimed Urban Space (MoRUS) will host author and cultural commentator John Strausbaugh as he reads from his latest book, "The Village: 400 Years of Beats and Bohemians, Radicals and Rogues" (Ecco 2013) on Thursday, June 13. The reading will begin at 7 p.m. with a Q&A session with Strausbaugh to follow. MoRUS is located at 155 Avenue C between 9th and 10th Streets. $5 - $10 suggested donation.
The Village is a collection of profiles and stories from events and personalities going as far back as 1640 that shaped and colored the cultural landscape of New York City below 14th Street.
Ada Calhoun writes in the May 31 issue of The New York Times Book Review: How rare and refreshing it is to find a chronicler who can remain dry-eyed and funny while describing the Village’s transformation from laboratory for change to “Sex and the City” tour stop.
Meanwhile, the folks at MoRUS conducted a Q-and-A with Strausbaugh, whose credits include serving as an editor of New York Press.
An excerpt:
MoRUS: Do you believe that the increasing gap between the rich and poor is effecting radical, progressive thinking in New York City? If so, in what ways?
JS: I suspect this is a very low point for radical, progressive thinking in NYC. Again, I’m speaking from what I know of the history. New York City was, for so many decades and in too many ways to enumerate here, a hotbed of forward thinking, not only in traditional political terms but in social and cultural movements as well. All the reprogramming and refashioning of the city over the last quarter-century or so to create the affluent, suburbanized, generic, tourist-friendly New New York has had, I think, a severe dampening effect on the city as a place that nurtures radical or progressive thinking on any front — political, social, or cultural. New York used to be a fantastically creative place on all those fronts. Now it’s being repurposed as a place of recreation, not creation.
The once vibrantly creative and bohemian Lower East Side is a thing of the past, with the final nail in the coffin coming next month, when Motor City Bar closes its doors for the last time. The bar is open over the next few weeks, so make sure you stop by for a few cocktails in the meantime.
On Sunday, June 23rd, come and celebrate 17 years of sex, drugs and rock n roll with some of the best people you'd ever care to meet. Come and give a long kiss goodbye to the amazing owners, bartenders, dancers, DJs, Detroit memorabilia, and those infamous bathrooms!
A big thank you to all those who have lived, loved, laughed, cried, danced, yelled, fallen down, met future partners, found jobs, been inspired, or just generally had a great time in this wonderful establishment these past two decades. To say it will be sorely missed would be an understatement. RIP.
Note: The bar will remain open until midnight on the 30th of June, when the keys are finally handed over.
