Kings and Castles

On October 28, 2009, in Content is King, I wrote regarding a common phenomenon in New York City - how you can't judge a place by its outward appearance. However, great places are not always shabby. Here, as elsewhere, packaging does not always deceive, and sometimes you can judge a book by its cover.

Quality is never easy to assess, especially at a time when marketing and packaging have reached new zeniths. Many consumers are disappointed by expensive but inferior products that are riding on the coattails of company legacy. There are merchants who do strive to keep a consistency between product quality, packaging, imaging, and retail store environments. Apple, with its award winning stores in Manhattan, is a good example.

When I was young, I had a morbid fear of hospitals. They were gloomy, scary places, where impending doom seemed to hang over everything. Information was shrouded in mystery and secrecy, and the prognosis never seemed good. Certainly hospitals are environments that are defined by caring for those with a medical problem, but they do not have to be shrines to hopelessness and malaise.

Hospitals are changing dramatically in technology, facilities and care. Of course, these are not places where everyone is jumping for joy, but they are places where there is much more expertise, knowledge, effective treatment, and hope, and you can feel a difference from the days of old.
Even robotics have entered the world of medicine. At the Methodist Hospital in Houston, Texas, robots are not only used to perform surgery, they are also being used to make visits to patients and allow doctors to monitor them remotely.

NewYork-Presbyterian is a university hospital with two medical centers affiliated with Ivy League universities: Columbia University Medical Center and the Cornell University Weill Medical Center (shown in the photo), which is located on the Upper East Side of Manhattan. NewYork-Presbyterian Hospital is the second oldest in the United States and one of the most comprehensive university hospitals in the world, with leading specialists in every field of medicine. It is ranked as 6th best in the country by US News and World Report. Admission to the medical school is one of the most competitive in the world. The acceptance rate is only 100 positions from nearly 6,000 applicants.

In Content is King, I told of a conversation with a physician at Gouverneur Hospital discussing NewYork-Presbyterian Hospital, where he also worked. We agreed that it was like a country club in comparison. The atmosphere goes a long way to creating as positive an environment as can be reasonably expected.

The hospital is a member of The Planetree Alliance, an organization of hospitals in the United States. The nonprofit group, founded in 1978, is oriented to improved patient care. It's great that content is king and even better when the castle is well designed :)

White by Design 2

The beauty of a new fallen snow is very short lived in the city - this photo was taken as I have written this, and already, most has melted. Nature doles out its pleasures when it sees fit, and in New York City, nature's bounty is often tempered. With a warm infrastructure and the masses walking, white snow soon becomes brown mush and/or melts away. There is little land or surfaces where snow can rest untouched.

On November 17, 2009, I wrote White By Design. That was, however, design by men and women. For the natural version, I invite you to enjoy this view from my window. Contrast it with the same vista taken in the autumn on October 29, 2009, when I wrote Wood, Glass, Brass and Trees. Catch, if you can, nature's White by Design in New York City, because it is beautiful but fleeting :)

Head for the Hills

He was a little ungainly and awkward, like Basil Fawlty, John Cleese's character in Fawlty Towers. But, unlike Basil, who, though incompetent, is basically harmless, my innkeeper had a slightly uncomfortably mysterious side, like Norman Bates of Alfred Hitchcock's film Psycho.

The inn, in Southern New England, was perched on a hilltop and had extraordinary views. Most local residents were not even aware that the place existed or that access to this hilltop with such exceptional vistas was possible, much less that an inn was perched atop the mountain. The place was atmospheric and had been hand built in stone by the owner's parents with a wonderful flagstone terrace.

I was compelled to book a room there. I just love the mountains. The innkeeper appeared to be the only one present, and at night, he disappeared to some unseen cottage on the property, or so he said. There were only two rooms in the inn, and on my stay, only my room was occupied. The place was musty. Books were everywhere. At night it was pitch black everywhere and, though intrigued to explore, with my imagination running wild, I decided it best to stay in my room.

I spoke at length with the innkeeper on one occasion about hill or mountain lovers, and he put it quite succinctly - there are hill people and valley people. If this is how humanity is divided, then I must be a hill person. I do love a mountain drive - the more precipitous, the better. If a Michelin map to a European country I am traveling in indicates a difficult and dangerous road, that's the road I prefer.
The hilltop perch is what first drew me to the Tibetan retreat on Lighthouse Hill in Staten Island. Very few visit this remarkable place, and like my hilltop inn in New England, it is virtually unknown. See additional photos here.

The Jacques Marchais Museum of Tibetan Art was founded in 1945 and officially opened in 1947 by Jacques Marchais (the professional name used by Jacqueline Klauber), a collector and expert in Tibetan art who acquired the largest collection in the Western world. She never visited Tibet during her lifetime and sadly passed away the year following its opening.

The rustic complex of fieldstone buildings was designed by Marchais - the architecture, gardens, fish pond and terraces resemble a Tibetan Buddhist mountain monastery, or gompah. You will also find sculpture on the grounds, as well as bright-hued prayer flags. It was the first Himalayan-style structure to be built in the United States and the first museum in the world devoted exclusively to Tibetan art. The Dalai Lama himself paid a visit in 1991. In addition to the museum's display of art and objects, there are classes and special programs. My first visit was for a Tibetan festival.

Of course, the love of mountains as a building site is far from being my exclusive passion - Lighthouse Hill, along with nearby Todt Hill, has some of the most opulent homes on Staten Island. The preference of hills and valleys is replayed around the world by the well heeled. Some will live in the valleys or by the ocean, while others, with a penchant for drama, danger and vistas, will head for the hills :)

Time Travel

If I asked if you thought this was colonial New England or the South, of course you would know it was a trick question - this is a website that features New York City exclusively. Nonetheless, it is a shocking set of images to imagine within the five boroughs of New York City, and I hope that, like me, you are scratching your head in amazement and wondering where this could be.

For daily readers of this site, you guess that we are in Staten Island - we just crossed the Verrazano Bridge yesterday. And you are correct.

My real mission here involved a number of destinations, but Historic Richmond Town was unknown to me and a complete surprise, suggested by a native when I asked if there were any historic areas. I expected to find a nice home or two - some small pocket or enclave.

I had no idea that Historic Richmond Town (established in 1958) is one of America's living history museums, like those found in Colonial Williamsburg or Old Sturbridge Village in Massachusetts, where my family visited when I was young. Richmond Town was the former county seat and commercial center of Richmond County (Staten Island).

The concept of a living history museum goes back to open air museums that appeared in Scandinavia in the late 19th century. The first was King Oscar II's collection near Oslo in Norway, opened in 1881. The American style focuses more on lifestyle and generally depicts various trades and activities of the period recreated.

Historic Richmond Town dates back over 300 years to the 1600s, very old by USA standards. There are 27 buildings in the 25-acre village on a 100-acre site. Some structures are original to the village, others have been moved from other locations on the island. There are many styles of buildings here, including outstanding examples of Dutch Colonial and Greek revival architecture.

There are many exhibits that can be seen in Historic Richmond Town - blacksmithing, tinsmithing, basketmaking, coopering, weaving, candlemaking, spinning, etc. There is the oldest standing elementary school in the United States. Here you will find a Dutch Colonial farmhouse, established in 1740, and the Print Shop, established in 1821. Historic Richmond Town houses one of the oldest operating printing presses in America. See their website here.

When I visited, none of the buildings were open or exhibits operational. When the weather gets warmer and the growth greener, I plan to do a more thorough visit. I've always loved Time Travel :)

Secede

There are a number of reasons why it has been nearly 4 years and I have not featured anything from the borough of Staten Island. It is far, inconvenient, and perhaps I was a little lazy. The photo explains another one reason. The current fare going to Staten Island across the Verrazano Narrows Bridge is $11 one way (it is free on the return trip). That two-digit fare is just frightening. The bridge can be spectacular, however. See my posting on it here and an additional photo gallery here.

Staten Island can be reached a number of ways. By auto, there are 4 bridges: three from New Jersey and the Verrazano from Brooklyn. There are buses via Brooklyn (and from Manhattan). Access from Manhattan can be had via the Staten Island Ferry (the fare is now free). I have taken the ferry many times, most often just for the vistas, which I highly recommend.

Staten Island is decidedly suburban in feel compared to the other boroughs, and it is the only borough without a subway system connected to the other boroughs - it is serviced by a fairly extensive bus system. But for real exploration of the hinterlands, it is best to have your own wheels.

Staten Island has had an interest in secession from the city for some time and in 1993, Staten Islanders actually voted to secede from New York City. Implementation was blocked in the New York State Assembly. In 2009, a new bill was introduced by state senator Andrew J. Lanza from Staten Island.
New York City itself has dabbled with the idea of seceding from New York State. The issue of inequitable distribution of revenues back from the State is one of the primary motivations for these secession efforts. For Staten Island, the drama could well be called "If at first you don't secede."

For the time being, Staten Island is still part of New York City, and there are a number of very worthwhile things to see in this borough, as well as a few big surprises. You will see that here this week :)

Toll Note: Those using the E-Z Pass system get a discounted rate of $9.14, and Staten Island residents pay $5.48. There was some outrage in 2009 when the toll was raised, of course, but as we all know, you can't fight City Hall or secede :)

Fit-ty Fi

I enjoyed Wayne's World on Saturday Night Live the first times I saw it (for those not familiar with the sketch series, see here). A friend at the time was incredulous that I would find such juvenile humor entertaining. But she missed the point entirely.
The brilliance of the numerous skits was the accuracy of how they captured the sophomoric humor and thinking of many high school boys. The simple inane things that would be incredibly funny to them. Of course, not every high school student finds the types of anecdotes on the show entertaining. Many are not ridden with an unsophisiticated sense of humor. Unfortunately, I was not immune to the plague.

At the time I was enrolled in the university, we frequented the same all nite deli near our dormitory. There was one particular cashier who had a very distinctive accent and, in a characteristic fashion, would drop the "v" sound in five to become "fi" and drop the "f" sound in "fifty" to become "fit-ty." So we lived for purchases that had 5 or 50 in the total.

Of course, a dream total was anything that ended in 55, becoming our beloved "fit-ty fi" - a total of $1.55, for example, was enough cause for jubilation. It had the feel of roulette - place our bets (items) on the counter, wait for the wheel to stop spinning, and see if our numbers came up. We won a single 5 or 50 often - the perfect game for impetuous youth. We were realists, and we never aspired for a dream total like $5.55 - the odds here were quite poor, and we rarely spent that much. Better to hope for a 5, 50, or 55.

It has been a very long time since this even entered my mind, and I am proud to state that my sense of humor has become more sophisticated. But recently, at dinner, the total was so stunning that I could not help but think that this was the ne plus ultra of my youthful dreams. The unattainable. A total so perfect, we dared not think or speak it, less we live in perpetual disappointment and frustration. I had to recount this tale, of course, to my fellow dinner companions so they could fully appreciate the miracle that lay before us - a bill for $55.55 :)

Finger Painting

I never really liked finger painting, but between K-12 in the public school system where I grew up, that was my first and only exposure to art. At the time I entered university in New York City, I had neither seen even one work of art nor was exposed to any form of classical music or opera. Music class in grade school consisted of mass embarrassment and faces buried in songbooks, with a handful singing and the rest lip-syncing.

There were some art electives in high school, but not many boys are going to take an art class when the sciences are championed above all else and defended on the basis of utility. Of course, preparing for the future is sensible, but somewhere in the education of an American student, shouldn't there be some exposure to the fine arts, if only that it is part of what makes an educated person in a civilized world?

My first exposures to art in galleries and museums of New York City were not good. I did not understand what I was seeing or what art was. The explanations, interpretations, and definitions were more vexing than my initial frustration, so I became defensive, seeing the world of fine art as one of impostors and charlatans. The fact that many artists are iconoclastic made matters worse - the lack of definitions and ways to measure art made it seem all the more whimsical and arbitrary to anyone inclined to numbers.

New York City has been a mecca for art and artists of every type for eons, and in time, a reasonable person begins to look at art seriously. Only the most obstinate can live in this city and maintain a militant anti-art posture for long.

In the last decade, over 250 galleries have moved to Chelsea. Only vestiges remain in neighborhoods such as SoHo. The more recent exodus has been out of Manhattan entirely to areas such as Willamsburg and Red Hook in Brooklyn.

The gallery in the photo is located at 501 West 23rd Street at Tenth Avenue and was the work of architects G. Phillip Smith and Douglas Thompson. The building was a work in progress over ten years, starting with a vacant lot. The design was inspired by the projecting balconies and walled courtyards Cairo houses of the 17th century. The exterior of the structure was built from sheets of cold-rolled steel and glass - the interior uses timber framing, stucco and fiberglass. See the New York Times article here.

The building houses Jim Kempner Fine Art, which specializes in contemporary art in all media and has shown world renowned artists since its opening in 1997. The courtyard currently features the sculptural work The Survival of Sirena (seen in the photo) by Carole Feuerman, part of her exhibition Swimmers, Bathers, Nudes. I'm just really happy I can enjoy art in New York City and no longer have to do finger painting :)

Diamonds and Rust

Perhaps real estate brokers confuse platitudes with beatitudes when they often tell a client, "There are only three things to know about real estate - location, location, location." * This adage (or some variant) has become more of an irritant than a balm to the property hunter. If you are inclined to retort, tell them of the Hotel Earle on Washington Square.

The Washington Square area has been one of the most desirable residential neighborhoods in New York City since the early 1800s, yet the Hotel Earle at 103 Waverly Place (at the corner of MacDougal Street) was in serious decline in the 1960s and early 1970s, with a reputation as a very seedy boarding house. No one I knew at that time had even set foot in the place. It took not years, but decades, to become the respectable place that it is now.

The Paul family purchased the hotel in 1973 and progressively made improvements to the Art Deco-style 150-room hotel. In 1986, the name was changed to the current Washington Square Hotel. In 1992, Judy Paul opened North Square Restaurant, a first class New York bistro at the hotel. From the Hotel's press release in 2008:

The Washington Square hotel was built in 1902 as a residential hotel named the Hotel Earle after its first owner, Earl S. L’Amoureux. The hotel occupied a single, 8 story, red brick building on Waverly Place, in the heart of affluent Greenwich Village, now an historic landmark district. In 1908, L’Amoureux built an identical, connecting building to create a grand apartment hotel, complete with reading rooms, restaurant, and banquet facilities. Four years later he added a ninth floor and, in 1917 he acquired an adjoining three story building, bringing the hotel to McDougal Street, at the northwest corner of picturesque Washington Square. 

Once a staid, affluent community, (as depicted in Henry James’ Washington Square and The Heiress), Greenwich Village was becoming the center of New York’s Bohemian counterculture; reflected by the Beat generation who gravitated to the coffee houses and jazz clubs. The once grand hotel was allowed to deteriorate into a shabby apartment hotel, making it an attractive address for struggling artists, actors, writers and musicians.

Ernest Hemingway, Dylan Thomas, Joan Baez, Bob Dylan, Barbra Streisand, Bill Cosby, Phyllis Diller, Bo Diddley, P.G. Wodehouse, and the Rolling Stones are among the celebrities who have stayed at the hotel. Patricia Highsmith used the hotel as inspiration for her short story “Notes From a Respectable Cockroach.” Joan Baez stayed in room 305, with Bob Dylan, in the early 60s. In her love song "Diamonds and Rust," Baez says “Now you're smiling out the window of that crummy hotel over Washington Square.” John and Michelle Phillips of the Mamas and the Papas stayed at the Earle during a visit to New York City (which prompted them to write "California Dreamin'").
Norah Jones worked there previously as a waitress.
Many former inhabitants of the olde Earle have seen both diamonds and rust...

For the etymology of the phrase "location, location, location" as regards real estate, see the article here in the New York Times by wordsmith William Safire.

The Lomo Look

I do believe that there can be great value in de-emphasising the tools in many endeavors. Technology has advanced so far that in many fields, it is very easy to get lost in the tools of the trade. In photography, particularly, the number of devices and accoutrement is extraordinary, and many photographers do become obsessed with the gadgetry.

There are numerous cameras in the "toy" camera category which have found favor with members of the photographic community and students. They typically were inexpensive plastic cameras, many produced as novelties, which often produce strange and unpredictable results. Some cameras in this class will even display evidence of light leaks. Many, like the Holga, Diana and Lomo, have developed cult followings, owing to these photographic effects. The Diana was originally produced in the 1960s in Hong Kong and was a predecessor to the Holga, which was made in China (first appearing in Hong Kong in 1982).

In 1991, two Austrian marketing students discovered the LOMO LC-A, a camera introduced in 1984 by a state-run optics company in St. Petersburg, Russia. They became enchanted with the photographic results of the Lomo camera, which will show any combination of bright colors with somewhat garish, contrasty, images, often with blurring and vignetting.

Use of low fidelity toy cameras can be a very useful exercise in learning to focus on the art of photography, training the eye, and playing down the technology. There is no question that good work can be produced using low tech camera equipment and that conversely poor work can be done with top equipment. Some award-winning photos were created using Lomos and other cameras of this class.

However, the bottom line with this type of camera is that you give up a lot of control. Using it becomes an exercise in working with (or around) the camera's "flaws." If you are interested in controlling depth of field for portraiture, shooting in very low light with high ISO, achieving sharpness with high quality lenses, exposure compensation, white balance, etc., these types of cameras will show their limitations. However, the lack of control is not only their weakness but also the appeal of these cameras. The fact there is a very distinctive Holga or Lomo "look" is a result of these cameras' anomalies or limitations.

Lomography is the trademark of Lomographische AG, founded by the two Austrian students, who, in early 1995, negotiated exclusive distribution of the Lomo LC-A. Lomography also distributes a number of low cost analogue cameras, such as the Diana and the Holga.

The photo is from their new shop located at 41 West 8th Street. Lomography has 20 retail store/galleries world wide - the New York City shop is currently the only location in the United States. The shop sells cameras, film, accessories, and books. It will be introducing on-site film processing. They offer classes, workshops, and meetings each month. The store also features North America’s largest LomoWall, with 35,000 Lomographs on display. If you visit, you can see the equipment, as well as examples of the photography, and decide for yourself what you think of The Lomo Look :)

Orchards and Tenements

I have written about many merchants located on the Lower East Side, but I have not focused on Orchard Street - the central artery of the neighborhood running one way for eight blocks between Division and Houston Streets. The street is named for the dirt road that once connected the house of Lt. Gov. James De Lancey with the orchard on his 340-acre farm.

The neighborhood was first settled in the mid-1800s, was known as Kleindeutschland (Little Germany), and later became a Jewish enclave.
The street, lined with low-rise tenement buildings with exterior fire escapes, typical of the area, has more recently been best known as a discount shopping district. Blue laws (repealed in the 1970s) prohibited Sunday shopping nearly everywhere in New York City, but, owing to the predominantly Jewish population, Orchard Street was given an exemption since they were closed on Saturday for the Sabbath, giving a virtual monopoly for Sunday shoppers.

Some shops are still closed Saturday. On Sunday, the street is closed to vehicular traffic between Delancey and Houston Streets, transforming the blocks into a pedestrian mall. There is still a bustle of activity, with shops specializing in clothing, shoes, leather goods, fabrics, jewelry, and luggage, intermingled with newer shops, restaurants, boutiques, and bars.

Orchard Street is home to a very unique dwelling. The building located at 97 Orchard, built in 1863, was boarded up in 1935 and unoccupied thereafter. In 1988,  it became part of the Lower East Side Tenement Museum. This building is a virtual time capsule and a must-see - it is an opportunity to see the city living conditions of a century ago virtually intact.

Orchard Street and the Lower East Side has been an area in transition, with numerous new trendy shops and upscale residences. Some have argued, however, that this has not been a classic case of gentrification, with older businesses being displaced - the area has been in decline for some time, and the newer merchants have been welcomed, even by many older residents.

The Tenement Museum is conveniently located next door to the superb il Laboratorio del Gelato (95 Orchard). See you there :)

Related Posts: Crossing Delancey, Go for a ride?, Sunshine Makes You Happy, Economy Candy, Eldridge Street, Doughnuts, Yonah Schimmel, teany, Pickles, Vegan Chic, Bluestockings, Colossal Misbehavior, il Laboratorio del Gelato, Fusion Arts Museum, Arlene's Grocery, Footprints.



Photo Note: The archival black and white photo shows Orchard at Rivington Street, circa 1915.

Togetherlessness

This scene in a restaurant is far from unique to New York City, but what particularly struck me was the absolute resoluteness and immediacy with which these two women wielded their phones after sitting down. One immediately began texting,  the other speaking on her cell phone. They continued through the entire meal without saying a word to each other.

Reading through numerous articles and online forums, I was actually surprised to see what appears to be an overwhelming majority who find the use of cell phones at dinner (at home or in a restaurant) rude and unacceptable, including younger people. The reasons cited were many, but most felt that eating is a social activity. Some also made the point that pulling out a cell phone during dinner makes a statement of relative importance - an insult to those who are physically there. Others, however, stated that among teenagers particularly, texting and phoning maintains a continuity of contact with their social circles. The whole phenomenon has created quite a furor, with many individuals seeking counseling.

A lot has been written since the rise of the Internet and cell phones about the nature of electronic communication technologies and whether they are tools that isolate people or bring them together. Like any other tools, they can be used or abused. There are many individuals who, for any number of reasons, have a limited social circle, and communication technology has allowed them to make new acquaintances. For some, it is difficult, if not impossible, to have much live social contact with others, perhaps due to health issues or living in a remote geographical location. For others, communication with existing friends and family is broadened beyond the time they are able to spend together physically. One could also argue that in aggregate, all the new methods of communication - texting, calling via cell phone, instant messaging, emailing, video calling, voip - have increased communication.

Personally, I try to limit cell phone conversations at dinner to receiving calls that are extremely important or where the caller will be difficult to contact. Like most things, this is a matter of degree and circumstance. People have answered landline phones during dinner for decades. In the case of these two women, they are both involved simultaneously and look quite happy sharing time together doing something they both enjoy. I'm sure the debate will rage on - whether what we have here is rude, antisocial, or perhaps a new form of social behavior -togetherlessness :)

Because I'm the Best, Part 2

Jim Murnak is originally from Pittsburgh, PA. His interest in leather goes back to when he was 13, working with Tandy leather kits. Some university, including studies in advertising at SVA, led to his work as an art director at Ogilvy and Mather. After a large employee layoff, Jim began his career as a leather craftsman. A retail shop on Sullivan Street was followed by a number of loft spaces, where he manufactured and sold to the trade.

I occasionally dropped in on Jim in the 1970s at a number of his Manhattan locations. On one visit, I was stunned at the level to which he had advanced, taking on products that were really unheard of for a self-taught artisan. I watched him build leather-covered wood attache cases - Jim was constructing the wood frames, covering them with leather, and installing brass hardware and locks.

At the time, there were a small number of leather artisans in New York City. Most knew each other, and it was clear to all of us that Jim had reached the pinnacle of success, selling to the top retailers in the city - Bloomingdales, Crouch and Fitzgerald, and Abercrombie and Fitch - at the time, the most expensive retailer of goods in the city (Jim told me that Chinese imports essentially killed this business for USA manufacturers).

On another occasion, I found him lining handbags - standard for high-quality finished goods, but an unthinkable "waste" of leather for those of us making leather products by hand. When I questioned him about what appeared to me to be rather indulgent, he said that he was not making hippie stuff and that his clients demanded this type of product finish.

Tracking him down was a simple find online. He has since settled in the Dumbo neighborhood of Brooklyn, where he has been for many years and where I caught with him recently. He was congenial and welcoming as always and permitted photos and a follow-up phone interview.

I was not surprised to see that he had found a few new high-end niche markets: custom manufacturing gun holsters, pool cue cases, and archery quivers. A passion and experience in an activity will always give an equipment manufacturer the inside knowledge and edge needed - Jim's father was a professional pool player, and Jim has had serious interests in pool and in target archery.

Unfortunately, Jim also acquired an insider's guide to handguns after being held up at gunpoint in the subway in the 1990s. After obtaining a gun and permit, Jim found the quality of holsters subpar and began to make them. He can custom craft a holster for nearly any handgun using one of his forms. He has also worked in Cordura nylon for some years making police training suits. Jim does business as Fist Inc. - see his website here.

In the 1970s, there were a handful of suppliers to the leather craft trade in Manhattan, including Great Jones Leather. It is here that one day I ran across Jim, who had come in for a pack of industrial razor blades. The salesman, who was also a leather craftsman, appeared to be stunned that someone else knew his secret for precision cutting. "Wow," he said, "I use razor blades too. Why do you?"
To which Jim replied, quite confidently and as a statement of fact, "Because I'm the best."

Because I'm the Best, Part 1

Many things were not so great in Olde New York of the 1970s - car windows broken for the theft of radios, vandalized subway trains, sanitation strikes, drug addicts, and perhaps the worst aspect, crime and a heightened sense of danger. I'm doubtful that even the most romantic or nostalgic wishes those things back.

But there are some things I miss, and one is the character of small shops and the opportunity for nearly anyone with a reasonable idea or craft to stake out his or her claim in the retail environment. There are still a handful of small shops along some side streets, but rents are generally prohibitive for the lone artisan.

I was involved in the leather craft movement for some years and made routine visits to many small shops, owned and operated by a crafts person(s). Some were my clients, others just acquaintances. Nearly all of these shops are gone. A few artisans still remain in business - Dick Whalen of Native Leather (formerly Natural Leather) at 203 Bleecker Street and legendary sandal maker Barbara Schaum on East 4th Street.

I have been involved in product manufacture since those days and do pride myself on having some level of expertise using tools. However, some years ago, to perform a simple task at home, I made the mistake of asking a friend for scissors. She was an architect, and I was appropriately reprimanded for not using an Exacto knife or razor blade. I was told that those were tools of precision and that no good crafts person uses scissors for the type of work I was doing. She pointed out that in the architecture firm where she worked at the time, the model making department used only knives and razor blades and that scissors could only be found in the marketing department. 

This was extremely interesting to me, because one of my most memorable life experiences involved virtually the very same subject, only with a little more drama. I recounted the story for her. For that, however, you have to meet Jim Murnak. And we will do that tomorrow in Part 2...

Diner Be Aware of the Diner

My first apartment in New York City was in Chelsea, on 22nd Street between 9th and 10th Avenues. When my roommate read the ad, standing on the street at a pay phone with the Village Voice in hand, we had no idea what or where Chelsea was, and even less what "renov brnstn with fplc" meant.
At $299 per month for a renovated brownstone with a fireplace, 14-foot ceilings, and a skylit living room, what it really meant was that we were very lucky and had no idea of what we had. This was a beautiful, tree-lined street, lined with rowhouses and walkable to New York University.

The Empire Diner was around the corner, but I did not fancy diner food at the time, and it was not until last week that I actually stepped inside this diner and sat down for a meal.

The history of the "rail car" diner is a bit muddled. The origins of diners were rooted in the lunch wagon, but there were also railroad dining cars which were deactivated from rail service, parked along train stations, and used as diners. In time, diners were styled along the railcar lines, many using stainless steel and Art Deco elements.

One of the number of companies who manufactured these railcar diners was the Fodero Dining Car Company (1933-1981) of Newark, New Jersey, which built the Empire Diner. This diner is legendary, with its striking exterior, roof-mounted Empire State Building, its gleaming interior, and beautiful Deco clock. It has been used in numerous films, referenced in song, and frequented by a long list of celebrities: FDR, Charles Lindberg, Barbra Streisand, Al Pacino, Madonna, Will Smith, David Bowie, Steven Spielberg, Bruce Springsteen, et. al.

This place has been tres chic for decades and is typically packed, inside and out (it has sidewalk seating in warm weather).
Food and service reviews are all across the spectrum, and a reading of comments on a site such as Yelp.com will show very impassioned reviews with one- to five-star ratings. A friend and I visited on a weekday, mid-morning, and the place was virtually empty. I cannot speak of a typical experience here - they were overstaffed for two of us. The food is very pricey, and the breakfast food we ordered was basic. But the Empire Diner is worth a look at if you are in the area.

However, like any place whose reputation is larger than life, and particularly in the case of a place that bills itself as the "Hippest Diner on Earth," let the diner be aware of the diner :)

DiFara

Generally, conversation about legendary pizza usually involves a lot of evaluations and comparisons of sauces and crusts. But in the case of DiFara Pizzeria, the conversation these days usually involves a lot of debate about the cost - $5 for one plain slice. It's funny that people are so passionate in this debate.  On one New York Times forum, someone questioned why diners could not make an allowance for a pricey slice when the world of consumer goods is already filled with very disparate and often accepted pricing on luxury items and gourmet foods.

Perhaps it is the elevation of what is perceived to be a staple food item in tandem with DiFara being located in a working class neighborhood that makes the price such an effrontery to so many. Coming from Manhattan, I am used to pricing anomalies, so when my friend and I sat down to eat our slices, we tried to focus on the character and taste of the pizza rather than its value.

I had heard about this place, particularly after writing my story on John's Pizzeria on Bleecker Street, when readers commented on the contenders in New York City for their favorite pizza.
DiFara is located at a very busy corner location in Midwood, Brooklyn. The place is small, and the walls are covered with awards and reviews. Lines are standard at DiFara, often one to two hours. On our visit, mid-week and mid-afternoon, we were lucky - there were no lines at all. We were able to chat with the owner and his daughter, Louisa, who was managing the orders and register.

One thing that is particularly unique about DiFara is that every single pizza is still personally made by the owner/founder, Domenico DeMarco, age 72, who has been plying his trade here for 45 years. The owner hails from Provincia di Caserta in Italy, near Naples, birthplace of the modern pizza. After starting a pizzeria in Sunset Park, Brooklyn, with his brother, DeMarco opened at his current location in 1964 with partner Farina (hence the name DiFara).

DeMarco prides himself on the quality of his ingredients, imported from places like Israel, the Netherlands, and Italy. The pizza uses three cheeses - Buffalo mozzarella from Caserta, Fior di Latte and Parmigiano Reggiano. His sauce is also homemade, using San Marzano tomatoes from Salerno, Italy. The pies are topped off with olive oil and fresh basil leaves.

Is the pizza worth $5 for a plain slice? The opinions run the gamut. Some say that no pizza is worth that, while others think it is the best on the planet and worth every penny. You could spend your money more extravagantly - unless $5 is just too extravagant, why not try it and decide for yourself? :)

Location: DiFara Pizzeria is located at 1424 Avenue J, at East 15th Street in the Midwood section of Brooklyn. They are closed Monday and Tuesday (and occasionally at other times if DeMarco is unable to work).

Fire and Ice

I have seen fire and ice, and it was spectacular.

Sunsets are a bit like Japanese restaurants in New York City - everyone knows the best one. In the case of sunsets, everyone has seen the most spectacular at some special time and place. So I am not going to tell you that I have seen the best sunset ever. However, I will say that this was the most remarkable sunset I personally recall seeing in New York City. While taking these photos, a woman ran out of a neighboring building into the frigid cold with camera in hand to capture the fleeting moments. See my entire gallery of photos here.

After a day of adventure seeking with a friend, Red Hook, Brooklyn, was on our late day agenda. We were not looking for a sunset, but as we approached the waterfront at dusk, I had a sense that something good lurked around the low-rise building known as the Beard Pier Warehouse. We explored the southeastern side of the warehouse, which was extremely nice, but I was getting antsy knowing that the sun was rapidly setting on the other side.

A UPS truck blocked our exit on the narrow roadway which flanks each side of the pier building. Waiting to back out of the one-way street was like watching the sands of time.

Have you ever driven around a corner or bend in the road where an extraordinary vista is suddenly revealed? This was our experience as we crossed a small alley on to the west facing side on Beard Street Pier and nature's full glory burst into view. As I scurried to the water's edge, I was equally stunned to see what at first look appeared to be an array of white glass - they were, in fact, smooth stones covered with a layer of ice. The red-orange sun illuminated the arched cast iron doorways and red brick of the pier building. The whole set looked like an installation art piece entitled Fire and Ice...

A Small World

I have often dreamed of living in some small French village where everything is on a very human scale. Where old men gather in the town center and play boule, there is no traffic, everyone knows everyone, and even the outsider is greeted like family. Where people really care and will go that extra mile to help. And the quality of one's life is measured by his or her relationships.
A place where time is stopped, there is no sense of urgency, and things are done deliberately.

There are many places like this, and I have seen them. However, to live in a small town, I would miss all the things New York City has to offer. So at times, foolish that I am, I try to find a microcosm like that in New York City. If you look hard, you can find a place where it's a small world after all.

At Precisions RCs, the metaphor becomes literal - the diminutive size of the place is matched by its scale models, mostly radio-controlled (RC), for the serious hobbyist. Here, in this tiny shop, you will find an inventory of radio-controlled airplanes, cars, helicopters, and boats. There are also trains, rockets, and plastic models. The owner carries a line of current models, has an online business, and also specializes in many discontinued models - of interest to the aficionado. I accompanied a friend from out of town who has an interest in RC planes and purchased an out-of-production wood frame model.

Technology has made a huge impact in this hobby, as in most other areas of our lives. Although nitro-powered engines are still manufactured and sold here, there has been a shift to electric engines/motors for many types of RC models - fuel- and maintenance-free.

The value for the dollar is amazing - the result of a combination of technological advances and Asian manufacturing. The owner demonstrated an amazing little RC helicopter which can be flown indoors (photo lower right), controlled by a sophisticated multi channel radio - all for only $100.

What I enjoyed most was the clubhouse atmosphere with valuable floor space given over to regular visitors. When we arrived, four men were sitting at tables in the tiny shop. We were immediately welcomed and included in the conversations. Many of the customers are members of the flying club which meets at Floyd Bennett Field.

Everything conspired to send one message - that even in New York City, you really can find a small world :)

Note: Precision RC is located in a small two-story building (see the outside here) at 2306 Bath Avenue in the Bath Beach neighborhood of Brooklyn. Bath Beach is located in southwestern Brooklyn along Gravesend Bay.

Hearts of Palm

I didn't know exactly where I was or the reason for going. But, like many social expeditions in college, we often traveled in packs with an ill-defined leader, led to some unknown location for reasons unclear. Not that any of this information was really withheld. It was just that we really didn't care, because we had confidence that the outing would be an adventure.

It was a party of sorts and was most likely somewhere on the Lower East Side, where the problem was never rent, only the decision to live in a war zone. Places could be rented for as little as $60 per month, and yes, even at that time, in those dollars, it was very affordable. That amount of money could be earned in one or two days in an unskilled job, something impossible in today's market.

A woman, who I believe was Brazilian, offered me a long white object from a can. As she slid it out, it reminded me of Vienna sausages, which I ate from a can as a child (and which I loved). These, however, were some type of vegetable, with a texture not so unlike an artichoke.

But I never knew what they were called, and finding these was not going to be easy. I suspected that they were of South American origin, but at the time, international foods were a relative rarity, relegated to some small section of the supermarket, with each store having what appeared to be a whimsical selection of goods.

There were no Korean green grocers with all things imaginable. Delicatessens were the convenience stores of choice, and for those of us coming from Anytown, USA, these all-night delis were nothing short of miraculous. We were ecstatic to have places open 24/7. The selection of packaged or canned goods, however was very limited. Fruit would typically consist of a Rome or Delicious apple of unknown age behind glass in the center of a showcase. No one was expected to actually buy it, but at least that food group was represented.

So it was in this environment that the identity of that smooth, silky, ivory-colored, edible plant remained a mystery for years. A small, nagging, unclosed gestalt. Until I met an older woman from Puerto Rico who, from a loose description, immediately identified the suspect as hearts of palm (or palm hearts).
Visits to various supermarkets proved successful. There was a bit of sticker shock - these were imported from Brazil and pricey (I have since learned that they were uncultivated at that time.) But I really had no choice, and I purchased a can. They were as unique and wonderful as I remembered and became a regular (if infrequent) addition to my diet.

Of course now, hearts of palm are a common ingredient in salads and can be found in virtually any market. For me, seeing a can of these represents closure on a long affair. For everyone else, just hearts of palm :)

Food Bubbles

We are in what the online publication Slate calls a Cupcake Bubble, which they predict will soon be followed by a crash. I wrote about cupcakery Magnolia Bakery in September 2009, but I was not aware of the true breadth of this craze - that it is a national and international phenomenon.

Numerous articles have been written going back several years. There is a cupcake blog, Martha Stewart has a cupcake book, and shops are everywhere: Sprinkles Cupcakes (international chain) based in California, Toot Sweet Cupcakes in Austin, Texas, Lovely Confections in Denver. Crumbs has two dozen locations, with 18 in the New York metro area. Also in New York, there is Sweet Revenge, Babycakes, and Sugar Sweet Sunshine. In Washington, D.C., there is Georgetown Cupcake, Red Velvet, and Hello Cupcake.

This is not the first time that a food fad with shops specializing in one product has taken New York City by storm. In the 1980s, gelaterias sprouted up everywhere and all closed in a short time. Recently, we have seen a similar thing with frozen yogurt shops such as Pinkberry and Red Mango.

A recent New York Times blog posting discussed the sustainability of cupcakes as a business and was accompanied by 99 comments. After reading these comments and several other articles, I see that the numerous debates boil down to a few issues: 1) Can all these cupcakeries make it? 2) Is a cupcake worth $3-$4? 3) Why are they so fashionable at a time when health consciousness is at a zenith? And, of course, 4) Who has the best cupcakes? In New York City alone, there are many cupcake shops.

Many find the confections much too sweet or just not healthy, while others see it as a small guilty pleasure and comfort food, perfect for such times. Some people see buying them at these prices as foolish, particularly in an economic downturn, and others add that the entire restaurant business is built on paying for convenience and that most things made at home cost a fraction of what is charged for the ready made equivalent. Business experts have entered the debate, with most showing how this is a flawed business model. A few, however, do not agree. And there are many analogies - and critiques of these analogies - made with places such as Starbucks, Krispy Kreme, and Dunkin Donuts.

Cupcake bakers have used several business approaches - cupcake shops, online selling, wholesale distribution, trucks, kiosks, or any combination of sales avenues.
The Cupcake Stop is a mobile gourmet cupcake shop in a truck which frequents different locations in Manhattan on different days of the week. It is run by Lev Ekster, and the cupcakes are baked by Manal Mady in Brooklyn. If you just want a small confection, they also offer mini cupcakes for $1 each, as does Baked by Melissa, who sells from a street kiosk on Spring Street in SoHo. Buying a tray of minis in an assortment of flavors is a common solution to the flavor selection dilemma.

I love the street vending of food and mobile trucks, such as the Dessert Truck or NY Dosas. Making foods available on the street is perfect for the visitor or native New Yorker on the run. Personally I find cupcakes to be a little too sweet, so an occasional tasting goes a long way...

We Got Religion

When I first met a friend several years ago, in the course of our initial conversation, he referred to himself as a card-carrying atheist. Of course, I never thought he meant this literally, but, in fact, he proceeded to show me his membership ID for the New York City Atheists. 

Incidents like this, as well as the urban environment with its iconoclastic populace, would lead one to believe that the religious in this city must be a much smaller percentage than that found in the United States population at large. Surprisingly, the percentages are not so different. A recent 346 page report, Religious Change Around the World, was released in October 2009 by the National Opinion Research Center at the University of Chicago (if you are interested in perusing the report, you can download the document here.) The massive study - the most comprehensive analysis to date of global religious trends - reveals that religious change around the world is very complex and no simple conclusions can be drawn. 

The percentage of citizens who regularly attend religious services is typically quoted as 40%, a number gleaned from surveys such as the Gallup Poll. This number is now in question, however, as individuals polled often answer in a way to reflect what they would like others to hear and perhaps believe themselves. Some studies have shown that the real number may be closer to 20%.

Although it is generally believed that scientists and doctors are less likely to believe in God or be particularly religious, the report shows, surprisingly, that the difference in religious belief between the scientific and non-scientific community is actually not that large. Also, in spite of declining church attendance and religious affiliation, studies show that there has been an increasing number of those who consider themselves to be spiritual. Many faiths are looking to repackage their religious practices to address the changing needs of their communities.

There are thousands of places of worship in the five boroughs of New York City - churches, synagogues, mosques, etc. A small number are major attractions, such as St. Patrick's Cathedral and the Cathedral of St. John the Divine. Others, either architecturally and/or by the nature of an unusual amount of free land surrounding them and manicured grounds, virtually demand the attention of passersby. The Gothic masterpiece Grace Church is a good example (see here as well).

However, unless the doors are open or perhaps the scene is graced with a spring or summer wedding precession, most houses of worship remained unnoticed, competing as they do with commercial establishments. The church in the photo, although architecturally striking, lies amidst the hustle and bustle of 6th Avenue in the Village. Unusual elements made it particularly photogenic on the night it was photographed: open doors, interior illumination, Christmas trees flanking its massive columns, and everything aglow, including the rooftop crucifix. In spite of changing definitions and practices, in New York City, like the rest of America, we got religion...

About the Church: St. Joseph's Church in Greenwich Village is the second oldest Catholic church in Manhattan. The Greek Revival structure was built in 1834. In 2005, NYU merged with St. Josephs, and the church is now known as the University Parish of St. Joseph & the Catholic Center at NYU. The Catholic Center at New York University, previously housed in the Holy Trinity Chapel on West 4th Street, has been demolished. The property, previously owned by the Archdiocese, was sold to NYU.

Jungle Lovers

"What is New York City like?" I asked. My guidance counselor put his hands behind his head with elbows spread wide, leaned back, and with great deliberateness and the authority of a worldly, street smart and experienced man, answered, "Have you heard of the concrete jungle, kid? Because that's what it's like. Between 23rd Street and 59th Street. It's a jungle. A concrete jungle."

With that and some college catalogs, I was supposed to make an informed decision about the merits of attending university in New York City, a decision that would shape my entire life.

I am not sure if his depiction of midtown Manhattan was intended as a deterrent, a strong warning, or just meant to impress me with his knowledge of this city, but we all know that if you tell a child not to do something, he/she will just be spurred on to do it. I was.

At 18, a jungle is just what I wanted. After all, I had read numerous African adventure books and even took out a book in Swahili in high school, in the event that I found myself in equatorial Africa. If I couldn't have vines, monkeys in trees, and tropical birds, then concrete would do fine. And, like the jungle, New York City would be an adventure. That is what I wanted most.

A jungle is a great, even if overused, metaphor for New York City. It has a density of growth and, at times and places, can appear nearly impenetrable. Scary to some, and exciting to those who like a sense of adventure and the unexpected.

If you want to truly enjoy NYC, then treat it like a jungle. Just walk with your eyes open. Don't be afraid to interact with strangers, and you will meet some incredible people. There are many treasure maps, both online and offline, to New York City. Use them, of course, but also cut a swath and blaze your own paths. Enjoy the adventure. Happy New Year, jungle lovers :)