Smile

At one time, nearly all my photos were scenics of some sort. Landscapes or buildings. Streets with no people. I typically waited for people to leave before shooting. The feeling I had was that people would somehow mar the image. Telling this to a friend (an architect), she commented that perhaps I had the soul of an architect - that it has been said that architects love buildings more than people.

This bothered me, because there was truth to what she said. However, I actually love people and am very social. Since that time, her comment has nagged at me and I have come to see the value of people in my photography. I have become interested in people and their stories. What are buildings except structures built by people for people?

I have met many people who are so political that they appear to see everything through glasses colored by their politics. A conversation about bad weather, and they will blame a political party. And ironically, sometimes the causes take on a life of their own, and activists appear to love the cause more than the people. What are causes except efforts by people for the betterment of people?

Political and community activism are good things. Many potentially destructive projects have been thwarted by activists, and much that is hideous perhaps could have been averted with more involvement. However, being personally involved with people whose politics dominate their being becomes tedious. Many have no sense of humor whatsoever. I often feel that they worry that laughter will somehow undermine the importance of the lives.

Not Susan Goren. My first encounter with Susan was her yelling at me over my conversation with a park official about a group of street performers. On my second encounter (at a community board meeting) she approached me and apologized, excusing the our original encounter as a product of her political passion for things she had worked on for a lifetime. One thing became extremely clear - this woman valued human relationships.

And squirrels.

Susan has been actively involved in rehabbing squirrels - injured or orphaned. I visited her home last night, where she is currently caring for a group of four. Her home is a shrine to her interests in art, reading and squirrels. She toured me through her home, going over her collection of fine art, photography, squirrel collectibles, and a photo archives on her PC of the various squirrels she has cared for. The Villager recently wrote a front page feature article on Susan - you can find it here.

Susan is a New Yorker. Born and raised in Manhattan, she is a graduate of New York University with majors in literature and art history. Like myself, Susan has been a Village resident her entire adult life. She worked for NYU for 17 years and has lived a block from Washington Square Park for the last 36 years since her graduation. She is a habitué of Washington Square Park, where I met her a few years ago and where she mothers over the squirrel population. She can identify most of them and has named many. She is often referred to as Susan Squirrel to differentiate her from a number of other Susans who are park regulars.

Susan is a community activist. A lover of the arts, a lover of squirrels, a lover of people. And she has a sense of humor. You can find her easily - look for the woman with a squirrel, people, red lipstick, and a smile :)

Throw Me a Curve

I recall battling with my graphic artist over using just her eye to place objects and making other judgements that you could simply do by measurement. I was a believer that if something can be measured, it should be. Nothing else made any sense, and just using the human eye was unfathomable to me.

I spent hours with toys of my generation - Erector Sets, Etch-a-Sketch and Lincoln Logs, but there was always something I didn't like about them. I could never put my finger on it exactly, but at last I think I can. I see it clearly now. Left right, x and y - my mind has been shaped by the orthogonal toys and the scientific tools and concepts of my youth. Working in this way can dull the mind and artistry. Just look at creative work done by those with a mathematical or engineering approach. Most artists are typically not wired to think and work in these ways.

Much of Manhattan was designed as a grid - see True North here. Certainly there is justifiable practicality in a grid from many perspectives - just ask any visitors navigating Manhattan's gridded areas. But not everything should bend to the will of the practical, efficient, most utilitarian or most cost effective - see Very Practical here.

The Eiffel Tower was highly controversial at the time of its building. And it is arguable that it has the look of something designed by an engineer. But there is one redeeming feature constant throughout the structure - curves. I can't imagine how it would look built completely with right angles.

Sitting in traffic in Long Island City on the approach to the 59th Street Bridge, with a hideous Erector Set above adding insult to injury, it makes me want to roll down a window, stick my head out and scream: "I can't wait for the bridge. Please, someone, throw me a curve..."

Look at Them Go

Please click and play audio link to accompany your reading.

One of the most startling differences between New York City and most other places is the life at night. It is late at night, you are alone, and perhaps you are in need of some human companionship. Step out into the streets of New York City and see signs of activity everywhere.

My family loves the city and has visited on a regular basis. At one time, they would camp out in my living room. My mother was fascinated with all the activity. She would stand, stare out my window and exclaim - "Look at them go. They don't stop going. They go all night." As if it was one person or one group with insomnia who patrol the city 24/7, perhaps to die of exhaustion. The city never sleeps, however, individuals do - but why tell her that when she was having so much fun?

Visiting my family in Bristol, CT, and driving the streets on a Sunday or especially on a Saturday evening before returning home, I was astounded as to how dead this suburban town of over 60,000 could be - it was a virtual ghost town with nary a person in sight.

Two hours later and back home, particularly in the summer, I would find Manhattan mobbed. In the Village, I would encounter bumper to bumper traffic jams. Reflecting back on the town I had just left, it was impossible to fathom - after every trip I would question my memory of the town I had left.

Of course, I realize that it is unfair to compare the two places, but nonetheless, it was the extreme contrast that to this day still astounds me. Driving through that suburban town where almost no one walks the streets, there are no cafes and no signs of life at all at night, less perhaps a gas station or all night convenience store. That is why the discovery of the Tangerine Dream coffee house in high school was nothing short of a miracle - see here.

I was once discussing all these matters with a friend, now living in the city, who for a time lived in a neighboring town in CT. He can be rather caustic and blunt with his opinions - in this case his response was that the "suburbs are death." Dislike of the suburbs is one of the most commonly shared feelings you will find in this city.

If you are a visitor, you may never be privy to this sentiment. A polite person will show due respect, and a reasonable person is aware that there are different strokes for different folks and that the city is not to everyone's liking. And, admittedly, there are tremendous conveniences of living in the suburbs. See my story of Dwanna here.

My parents no longer live in Bristol, but from time to time I still like to pass through for nostalgic reasons. On a bleak winter night I am intrigued by the deadly quiet. Soon I will be home, where if I want to see human activity, I will only need to step out onto to the streets or even just peer out my window and any time, day or night, I can Look at Them Go...

Photo Note: The photos were taken at 10 PM at Union Square - a major subway hub, a nexus of streets and a major shopping district. The area is active day and night. The lower photo is of the mezzanine cafe at Whole Foods Market.

Tired of Crumbs

I have a long time friend who, like I, has been self employed for his entire adult life. He was a carpenter and, like any freelancer and unlike a small business owner, constantly needed to hunt for future jobs. From time to time I would inquire about his existing work prospects. If he was between big jobs and only had small jobs here and there, he would just comment that all he had were "crumbs, just crumbs." Crumbs became our private metaphor for those things which are relatively inconsequential to life. Akin to panning for gold in a world of miners.

There has been lots of talk lately about gold as an investment and store of value in a time of economic uncertainty. Many have come to America and New York City to stake their claim.

The very nature of New York City is a place of transients. People come and go for a variety of reasons. Many find that it is not to their liking or fulfilling the dreams they had. The streets are not paved with gold, rather with gold ore, and now require lots of mining.

Perhaps the prospect of finding gold is one reason I came to New York City, but like any gold strike, e.g. the Internet, the easy money has been made, and little gold will be found lying in plain view. Panning for gold has given way to higher technology. Mining in the modern world and extracting precious metals from ore is going to be competitive and will require special equipment, training, expertise and investment in tools. Otherwise, if you're lucky, you are going to get crumbs.

Of course, in any boom town, the crumbs will be much better than crumbs elsewhere. Street performers, as others, can make much more here than anywhere else. The lure is a mirage and a bit of a catch-22. The potential earnings from vending in a boom town are offset by the cost of living there. Perhaps you can sell eggs for a dollar a piece, but come time to eat, you're in the same predicament as everyone else. There is opportunity to pick up a few dollars for the wanderer passing through, but how is he or she to live here for any extended time? There are very few margins left to live in.

At first, the prospect of easy and immediate cash is very appealing, as is a life without a 9-to-5 job routine or other obligations. However, the free spirits that pass through New York City find out very quickly how inhospitable the city is to the less-than-well-heeled. And soon they will see those dollars in their hat or suitcase, just like my friend and me. They, too, will be tired of crumbs...

Swaggertist in Blue

Where would you find a man who is a roller skater, saxophonist, writer, composer, recording artist, and inline skate trainer, who had a hit single on Billboard for 13 weeks ("Funky Bebop"), has a Masters degree in group therapy (with work done towards a Ph.D), and travels on an outrageous fur-covered trike? In New York City. See additional photo here.

And, of course, a man with this many incarnations would be expected to have had as many names - Bladie aka Bladie Flowness, Vin Zee, Vinzerelli, Vincent Brown. Now reinvented on his trike as the Swaggertist. I cannot attest to all his claims, but it would be fair to say the man is a one-man self promotional campaign on wheels.

Bladie was involved in musifying the roller skating scene in Central Park, what he calls the ultimate dance party on wheels. The New York Times wrote: "There are the old-timers, like Bladie Flowness, who has dreadlocks and a dyed beard and sails against traffic doing tai chi in multicolored Bedouin pants."

After meeting Bladie and introducing myself, Bladie gave me one of his music CDs and a DVD compilation of various clips of him. This bike is not his first, and he has been known for colorful dress since his early days on the skating scene.

However, it takes more that just chutzpah, bright colors and a turquoise fur covered trike to become successful or get attention in New York City. Although Bladie certainly gets attention when he cruises the city, park regulars barely give him a glance. After all, he has to compete with Piercing Al Fresco, Hector, André (Out There), Spike, Narcissism Gone Wild, Water Sprites, Wood Nymph, The Misfits, The Dance Parade, Flamboyant, The Krishna Fest, the Dyke March, Singing Bowls, Eight Twenty Five, Twelve Tribes, Penny Farthings, Superheroes, Snake Charmer, Circus Amok, and Fashion Forward.

And Bladie has plenty of musical talent to deal with. For now, Gershwin has not to worry about the Swaggertist in Blue :)

Rhapsody in Blue

Have you ever tried to hide an obsession? Perhaps a strong color preference where, when asked for a color suggestion, you feign to weigh and carefully consider options, but as long as it can even be vaguely justified, your choice is always that special favorite color?

Of course, these maneuvers will become transparent to close friends and family. See my story here - White by Design.

Years ago, I had a friend who was a distributor for my products and accompanied me to trade fairs. When discussing colors for products, I would inevitably suggest turquoise blue, often just using color examples to avoid my obvious preference for blue. To no avail - he saw through me like blue-colored glass. Finally, in frustration, he suggested, "Why don't you buy a house and paint the whole thing turquoise blue?"

I am happy to learn that George Gershwin was not only a Brooklyn-born native New Yorker, but that the title of his composition, originally American Rhapsody, was changed to Rhapsody in Blue. This highly effusive piece of music was used by Woody Allen in the opening sequence to his film Manhattan - see my story Connections here.

For those fellow lovers of turquoise blue, I am pleased to know that Pantone, the global authority on color and provider of professional color standards for the design industries, announced:

PANTONE® 15-5519 Turquoise, an inviting, luminous hue, as the color of the year for 2010. Combining the serene qualities of blue and the invigorating aspects of green, Turquoise evokes thoughts of soothing, tropical waters and a languorous, effective escape from the everyday troubles of the world, while at the same time restoring our sense of well being.

In 1999, Pantone announced Cerulean Blue as the Color of the Millennium. And, interestingly, Pantone, Inc. founder Lawrence Herbert is also from New York.

I am far from alone in my love of blue - according to Pantone, blue is the favorite color of 35% of the American public. The official colors for New York City are orange and blue - coincidentally, the color of the Empire State Building the night the photo was taken was orange.

Regardless of shade, and whether an official New York City color, musical composition, NYPD uniform, or Pantone Color of the Year or the Millennium, even the sky reflects that for many of us, New York is a Rhapsody in Blue :)

Related Colorful Postings: That's Quite a Briefcase, Who See the Red?, Coleur du Jour, Tale of Two Colors, A Colorful Life, Color Brigade, Eye Candy, White By Design 2.

The Yellow Kind, I Guess

Many of my generation became very interested in the back-to-the-land movement, natural living, and healthy food. However, I learned a painful lesson that rural does not necessarily mean healthy, often quite the contrary.

Regular readers know that my family comes from northern Maine - Aroostook County, which abuts the Canadian border. This area is quite poor, and the cuisine reflects it. There are a few good home-cooked specialties that can be had, but it is not the place for restaurant dining.

On one trip there as an adult, having not visited in decades, I was quite enthused about exploring my roots and this remote, isolated area. One evening, my companion and I decided to eat out. My mother had warned me that no good places existed and that it was a waste of time.

"Not to worry," I said, "because I am a resourceful New Yorker, and I am quite capable of eating simply." Certainly I would ferret out that small casual eatery with tasty local dishes.

Or so I thought.

Finding any place at all was a challenge, and we finally settled on a one of the only candidates - a restaurant in an inn for hunters. The whole place did not look very promising. My companion ordered a cheeseburger and politely asked what kind of cheese they had. The waitress answered, "the yellow kind, I guess."

This was not sarcasm. We knew we were in trouble. I also felt it was inexcusable for a waiter to not know what type of cheese was available, even if only American. Even in the smallest towns in this region, stores did carry more than one type of cheese and they were labeled. Our food arrived and it was truly dreadful. The cheeseburger was inedible.

As to be expected, we were quizzed about our dining experience as soon as we returned to my family, and after giving an honest report, my mother launched a barrage of I-told-you-sos. She won that round handily.

High quality food is never really a simple affair, and watching the numerous videos of the farms which supply Blue Hill Restaurant is an education as to the levels that farming and animal husbandry can reach. Artisanal techniques and the best possible conditions for livestock and produce are all used. Blue Hill Restaurant, at 75 Washington Place in Greenwich Village, is renowned for its use of farm-fresh, local, seasonal, organic and sustainable ingredients in its cuisine.

The restaurant was opened in 2000 and is owned by brothers Dan and David Barber and David's wife Laureen. The accolades for Blue Hill are many. The Zagat survey gives the food a 27 (out of a possible 28) rating. Serious Eats ran an article: "Blue Hill at Stone Barns: The Most Important Restaurant in America." In May 2009, it was visited by President Obama and his wife. See more at the Blue Hill website here and a sample menu here.

I imagine, when inquiring about the type of cheese used in one of Blue Hill's offerings, that they could do a little better than "the yellow kind, I guess" :)

Note: Blue Hill also has a location at Stone Barns Center for Food and Agriculture in Pocantico Hills, New York. It operates as farm, kitchen, classroom – an exhibit, a laboratory and campus. The farm is one of several suppliers to the restaurant. See more at their website here.

Squadron A Armory

I try not to overuse the word juxtaposition, because if I was not vigilant in its use, I could easily justify using it ad nauseum in regards to the diversity of structures in New York City.

One of the supreme examples of juxtaposition is the palace of Versailles and the town of Versailles in France. In the area neighboring the palace, one finds a town that is pleasant but nothing to prepare one for the grandeur of the palace.

For the residents of Versailles, however, I imagine the palace becomes just another fixture, something one becomes inured to over time. At least that is the experience I have often in New York City. I certainly appreciate our iconic structures, but often it takes spectacular or unusual conditions to bring these things to one's attention.

Where else but in New York City could you discover something this large, having never been aware of its existence? I don't recall even seeing this medieval behemoth, which occupies a full city block on Madison Avenue between 94th and 95th Streets. See 2nd photo here.

This is the Squadron A Armory facade. Facade, because in 1966, demolition began to make way for a new junior high school and apartment complex. However, the Landmarks Preservation Commission intervened, and the demolition was stopped.

Squadron A refers to an historic cavalry unit based out of New York City's Upper East Side. It was formed by a group of wealthy young men with an interest in equestrianism. Read more here.

If you travel up Madison Avenue, don't be so distracted by all the high profile boutiques that you miss Rhinelander's Dream and the medieval ruins of Squadron A Armory...

Top of the Glass Staircase

What is one of the most vexing problems for the visitor to New York City? Finding a bathroom. Because you need to use a bathroom. Or perhaps you are just tired and need to sit down and regroup. Sound familiar?

It is no secret that New York City is not particularly bathroom friendly. Signs abound proclaiming "Bathroom for customers only" or the ridiculous "No Bathroom" - does anyone actually believe that store employees work all day without a bathroom?

New York City is an exciting wonderland for the resident and visitor. Like most large cities, most visitors will be traveling locally by a variety of methods other than their own vehicle - taxis, trains, buses, and by foot. All this trekking leaves your body in need of service.

Most likely you have a base station (hotel) and you would like to go back to your room, but, unlike travel in the countryside, your room is not really very convenient, is it? It's not just a quick drive away, and to go there is a bit of a hassle, taking time and energy. It also means leaving where you are - perhaps you have more to do.

For the city resident, the situation is not much better - once out, we are even more reluctant to travel back to our homes just for bathroom use or to take a rest. Our only advantage is, occasionally, better knowledge of those places that are easy about use of their facilities. Some of the more upscale retailers are bathroom user-friendly - Whole Foods Markets, Starbucks, et al. But there is a better option if you are downtown. So, it is time for a quiz.

Question: Where can you go in Manhattan and relax in a theater with upholstered seats in an award winning skylit environment with clean bathrooms, relax as long as you like, and even get your email and access the Internet for free?

Answer: The Apple Store on Prince Street in SoHo. I have previously written about this store - see here. The theater, one flight up the glass staircase, is used for free presentations, as you can see in today's photo. In my experience, however, the theater is generally unused. While your there, peruse the goods - the store is a mecca and meeting place. Please don't abuse your privileges at the top of the glass staircase...

Enchanted April

Please click and play audio link to accompany your reading.

I will never forget one particular scene in the film Enchanted April. Four women from England in the 1920s decide to leave the damp and rainy climate of home for a vacation on the coast of Italy, only to arrive to a rain more hellish than what they left behind.

However, one morning, unbeknownst to them, the rain has finally stopped, and when they throw open the shuttered windows, they are just flooded with light and witness the most stunning scene of natural beauty imaginable. I recall seeing this in the theater, seated relatively close to the screen and nearly having to shield my eyes from the brilliant light after my eyes had adjusted to the dark, dreary and rainy start of the film.

One of the banes of New York City life is the window unit air conditioner. In a city with such an inventory of older buildings, window units are the norm, even in very large multi-story buildings. Look up when you are walking the city, and you will see an abundance of these unsightly, ungainly, and noisy metal boxes hanging from windows everywhere. Tying up windows with air conditioners is particularly egregious in the city, since most of us have few windows to begin with and spend most of our time in one or two rooms.

Also, the vast majority of windows in New York City are the standard up/down double hung style. French windows are a rarity, even in smaller historic townhouses. I am extremely fortunate in this regard. However, my windows were in extreme disrepair, and two out of three were encumbered with window unit air conditioners. Recently were my windows replaced and my window A/C units removed. I have full access to all the sashes and can open my windows completely.

So if you want to reenact and relive that scene with me, let me throw my windows open for you today and give you a peek at a New York style Enchanted April :)

We Don't Do Windows

We live a world of immediate gratification, but not if you are in manufacturing. Generally speaking, you are going to be dealing with lead times, whether it is for sampling or production. You also cannot expect the level of customer service that you will find in the retail sector, where salespeople wait to indulge your every whim.

The best manufacturers are going to be busy, which often means that contact with key personnel may be difficult. Unreturned phone calls are not uncommon. Thick skin and tenacity are necessary attributes to being successful. Face to face meetings can often solve problems and move projects along quickly.

However, not only has manufacturing eroded in the United States, but in New York City, it is virtually nonexistent - most of my suppliers are located out of the region or country. The prospect of finding manufacturing suppliers in New York City is virtually nil.

Or so I thought.

I recently was acquainted with two plastics manufacturers, both in the Bronx, who had the capability to make products for me - Streamline Plastics and Pulse Plastics. Streamline had given me tremendously aggressive price quotations, so I was hopeful we could do business together. They supply companies who distribute novelty items, many made in Asia. Amazing, really.

A new project at Streamline, however, had stalled a bit over various details, so I scheduled a meeting in person. When I arrived, there was concern that I had street parked - Streamline has their own parking. Barbed wired and the absence of windows did worry me.

It was immediately clear on meeting the owner that this was a no nonsense operation. His cell phone was ringing non stop - this was a man in business to make products. Samples were waiting for me in the conference room. After just a short meeting with all the details worked out, Joe Bartner asked how many pieces I wanted and if I wanted him to run the job now.

I was perplexed. I asked what he meant by now - like right now? He said yes - a machine was free, and he could run 8,000 pieces of plastic as we spoke. And so he did. The very next day, I was informed that the order was ready to go - how did I want it shipped?

I also had arranged to meet with Pulse Plastics, located across the Bronx. This company breaks the rules and delivers on the unattainable trinity - Fast, Good and Cheap (well - at least very reasonable - see my story, Pick Two, from April 27, 2009.) After 35 years in business, Pulse is on my short list of top suppliers and is a contender for the Congeniality Award. Our office staff loves them - great service, good quality parts, the president is always available by phone, and they often run production the same day an order is received.

When I arrived, there was concern again that I had parked on the street - the owners routinely parked inside on the factory floor. I had previously discussed security issues in operating a business in many areas of the Bronx. When I showed dismay about the prospect of being in windowless buildings, owner Al Backleman laughed and joked that businesses don't have windows in the Bronx. Perhaps I should call the Bronx borough president and suggest a new slogan - Welcome to the Bronx - We Don't Do Windows :)

Knock, Knock.

New York is a city of immigrants, very unlike the rest of the country. It is estimated that approximately 40% of the city's population is foreign born, as contrasted with only 11% of the United States overall.

New York has always been a point of entry for a multitude of immigrants. One need look no further than Ellis Island - 12 million people entered the United States in a period of 62 years.

There has been a substantial growth in the immigrant population - in 1970, the proportion of foreign born in New York was less than 18%. The 40% number of immigrants in New York City today has not been seen since 1910, at the peak of the 1880-1920 wave of immigration.

Many attribute this in part to the growing divide between the haves and the have-nots worldwide, with many people from underdeveloped nations looking to emigrate to the United States and other more economically advanced countries.

Dealing with immigration has been an eye opening process. Like everything else, there is theory and there is practice, and the reality of immigration, citizenship, green cards, visas etc. are academic until you are somehow involved.

Recently, I accompanied a friend for an interview with the USCIS at 26 Federal Plaza. The process was very bureaucratic, as would be expected - the immigration official was looking for very specific things and was rather dismissive of the evidence provided.

Of course, then there is the very real world of immigrants. Speaking to attorneys working in the field and immigrants themselves, it surprised me to learn that even when an immigrant has illegal status and this is known by the immigration authorities, in New York City, these immigrants will generally not be pursued. Unless the individual is arrested for other reasons, deportation is unlikely. On April 11, 2006, I photographed and wrote about a demonstration of illegal aliens and immigrants. It was both surprising and ironic to see people whose very status was illegal make this known publicly by their active participation in a march.

Historically, the United States has been a Beacon of Hope and a magnet for those seeking opportunity and a better life. Recently, however, I have heard a number of people both here and outside the country say that there is greater opportunity now in parts of Asia than here at home.

I know of individuals who have left to return home. I have read other articles about how America will never be the same, that our economic hegemony is finished. Perhaps our Lady of Liberty is a little tarnished, the magnet no longer pulls as hard, and when a land of opportunity says Knock, Knock, we may have to answer, Who's There?

La Vie En Rose

Note: Please click and play audio link to accompany your reading.

One of my fondest memories was seeing the Cherry Blossom festival in Washington, D.C. as a child. This was my first big family vacation, and to be in Washington on a perfect spring day with pink blossoms everywhere and a parade with all the stately buildings in marble as backdrop was just exquisite.

Pink is not a color typically associated with New York City - the color pink has had a large number of associations in the course of history. At one time, pink was considered to be a color associated with boys and blue for girls. More recently, pink has been associated with negative gender stereotypes, so a city that prides itself on being edgy, dynamic and fast paced is not going to embrace pink as the school color. If you had to choose a color to represent New York, black would come to mind before pink.

But what can elevate the human spirit more than flowers and pink blossoms on a spring day? What can be a better palliative for what can at times be a hostile and caustic environment?

Not to worry, however. New York City has pink if you want it. See my story and photos here about the Pink Ladies.

If you want pink blossoms, you can find them here too. On April 25, 2007, I wrote about Sakura Matsuri cherry blossom festival (May 2 & 3), a weekend celebration and Hanami, a month celebration of the Japanese cultural tradition of enjoying each moment of the cherry blossom season (April 3- May 2). See more information here.

Secretly, I think many New Yorkers love pink but posture to only show a passing appreciation for perhaps a blossom or flower. One solution is to deliberately wear pink in spite of any consideration that it may be too benign - in itself an act of rebellion. However you have to do it, why not, at least for now, enjoy La Vie en Rose? :)

Urban Safari

I do love a good mountain or two, however, New York City is a place for Jungle Lovers, not mountain lovers. Many cities like San Francisco are not only known for their exquisite natural beauty, but are virtually defined by it. San Francisco's hills, like the Twin Peaks at over 900 feet, offer extraordinary vistas of the city and surrounding seascapes. See my story here about Hill People and Valley People.

The majority of Manhattan is relatively flat. As one travels north from lower Manhattan, the topography does become somewhat hillier, with the highest altitudes in the northernmost areas in Washington Heights and Inwood. The Cloisters in Fort Tryon Park is known for its sweeping views of the Hudson River. The highest point in Manhattan is 265 feet above sea level, in Bennett Park.

For most New Yorkers and visitors, the necessity of building a viaduct to span a valley may come as a surprise. The reality will be abundantly clear if you are traveling north on the number 1 train and suddenly find yourself breaking out from the tunnel into daylight on an elevated train track.

When New York City began building its subway system in 1900, a decision had to be made regarding Manhattan Valley - tunnel under the valley with steep grades at either end, or build a bridge over it. A viaduct made more sense. The viaduct, 2174 feet long, spans the valley between 122nd Street to 135th Street with a subway station at 125th Street and Broadway on the number 1 train. The steel arch spanning 125th Street is 168.5 feet long and 54 feet above the street. The 125th Street station opened in 1904. The viaduct was designated a landmark in 1981 by the Landmarks Preservation Commission. Read more here from the New York Times.

Every day the trains are busy, transporting Jungle Lovers, Hill People and Valley People through New York City. Join us on an urban safari :)

So Where's David?

The ugly American does exist, and I saw him in Florence, Italy, in 2003. He was the poster child, the mold from which all others were cast. I was in the lobby of the Galleria dell'Accademia, where Michelangelo's David is housed. An American man with his daughter in tow was in line for admission tickets. When I say in tow, I mean it literally. This young girl was being dragged by her father around the museum lobby much like a skier going through compulsory slalom training.

When his turn came at the window, he was extremely upset that the admission would have to be paid in local currency. Loudly, and for all to hear, the man, in the most critical and incredulous tone imaginable, barked, "You don't take American?" Not the more appropriate US dollar or even perhaps the American dollar, just American, as if the dollar had such importance, it did not even need to be spoken.

After getting his ticket, disgusted with the inconvenience of it all, he asked in an impatient tone, "So where's David?" After being directed, he stormed off, dragging his daughter, as if seeing David was a dirty job to be done, obligated for many reasons, including perhaps the parental responsibility for giving his daughter some culture - the whole event sweetened, perhaps, by a good Italian meal later on.

The whole situation was quite embarrassing and certainly did nothing to dispel the stereotype of the American as loud, rude, boorish, overly nationalistic, and ignorant and disrespectful of other cultures.

Seeing the great art museums when in Europe really is a must. However, there are many tourists who do not particularly like art but, for any number of reasons, find themselves slogging through art museums and galleries in an obligatory manner - perhaps as part of a tour, taken by a friend or family member, or as part of a written or hidden agenda.

On March 26, 2010, Antony Gormley unveiled Event Horizon, 31 cast iron and fiberglass casts of the artist’s body perched on rooptops, ledges of buildings, and the grounds around Madison Square Park/Flatiron District (one is atop the Flatiron Building itself and one is on the 26th floor of the Empire State Building). For those unaware of the exhibit, naked men looming above the park, peering down from buildings everywhere, can be startling.

Gormley is an English sculptor and was a Turner Prize winner in 1994. Event Horizon is his NYC art debut. The same sculptures were exhibited in 2007 in London - read more about him and the show here.

Our American friend in Florence would find this sculpture much more to his liking, I am sure - no currency of any kind is needed, no lines, and the sculpture is everywhere around to be discovered. Perfect for a man who, in one of the world's great art galleries, finds the prospect of navigating to one of Michelangelo's masterpieces to be a chore and can only think to ask, "So Where's David?"

The Total Call

There are things that are iconic about certain places - the Eiffel Tower, the Great Pyramid of Giza, the Great Wall of China, the Empire State Building, the Taj Mahal, Stonehenge, the Colosseum, or the Grand Canyon. Some things which are emblematic involve natural phenomena that may require special conditions and a particularly unique vantage point. These things are often seen in photos and rarely seen in person by the visitor, like the Golden Gate Bridge and San Francisco draped in fog.

San Francisco is notorious for its fog and its myriad of variants around the city and its neighborhoods, with one of the most unique climatic conditions in the world. Known for its microclimates and submicroclimates, temperature conditions can vary by as much as 9°F (5°C) from one block to another. One neighborhood can be sunny and warm, another foggy and cool.

On one vacation to San Francisco many years ago, on the recommendation of a native (see Weather Means Whether), I traveled north over the Golden Gate Bridge to Marin County to hike to the summit of Mount Tamalpais, the tallest hill in the county. Marin County is known for its natural beauty, protected natural environments and spectacular views of San Francisco and the Golden Gate Bridge.

On this day, I was extremely fortunate and was rewarded with one of the most spectacular things I have ever seen. Fog, as thick as a blanket, completely covered everything in view except for the uppermost sections of the two towers of the bridge.

Observing this next to me was a fellow hiker, to whom I commented about this spectacular event. He responded, in a slightly hushed voice, with slang completely unfamiliar to me: "It's the move, man, it's the total call." I had never heard the words "move" or "call" used in that way, but his intonation had an air of biblical gravity, and perhaps, not unlike Genesis 1:31, assured me that it was very good. I heartily agreed.

Fog in New York City is much less common, and we certainly do not get the spectacular conditions seen in San Francisco. Recently, however, when driving on the Belt Parkway in Brooklyn, an unusual temperature drop and high humidity gave rise to an extremely dense fog, at times almost completely obscuring the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge, in conditions somewhat the inverse of the classic Golden Gate Bridge phenomenon. On July 8, 2008, I wrote about the Verrazano using photos taken under foggy conditions, but not nearly as heavy.

Capturing today's photos was particularly problematic, driving alone on an expressway with only a point-and-shoot camera. But opportunity was calling, so I took this photo blind with my arm extended up through an open sun roof.

I hope someday you get to see the Verrazano Bridge like this. And I am sure you will agree that it's the move, man, it's the total call :)

Get Your Doing Done

I had a close friend who was extremely neurotic and driven. Often, when discussing options for plans with others, one could see his impatience and edginess growing. Once, I recall speaking to him on the phone in the early evening. He was already finished with his plans for that night. When I expressed surprise, he said that if he was going to do something, "I like to get my doing done." He appeared to be turning recreation into a job guided by an efficiency engineer.

This website was inspired by Eric Tenin, who started Paris Daily Photo in 2005. The original concept was to share daily life, one photo per day. New York Daily Photo, however, has metamorphosed over time.

There is merit to the original concept, however, everyday life is filled with routine, and I did not want this site to become a tribute to the mundane without some special or personal ingredient added. The TV series Seinfeld, which purported to be a show about nothing, was really quite more than that. Although, on the surface, many of the plot elements were about the trite and trivial, without cleverly crafted comedic writing, plot twists, surprises and great characters, a show that is truly about nothing would bore audiences to tears and never survive.

Today, I left home for the office earlier than usual. For those who are early risers, the streets in the early morning are a special and pleasant time. There is the freshness of a new day, construction workers toiling away. In New York City, this is also a time where photo shoots and filming can often be seen on the streets - there is good light and the streets are less crowded. And best of all, for those who are so inclined, there is comfort in knowing that by starting the day early, there will be plenty of time to get your doing done :)

Kokadjo

I had finished my meal and had exactly one piece of Tandoori roti left, untouched. I really wanted to offer this to the couple sitting next to me, but I needed to remember, this was not my home nor Kokadjo.

On a summer vacation some years ago, my folks decided to book a room on Moosehead Lake, Maine's largest and a well known attraction for centuries. Their quest led them to a lodge on the lake. I had decided to accompany them, however, the lodge's room rate at the time was quite pricey and did not seem to be a great value. Some research was quite fortuitous. A beautiful hillside estate home in Greenville, Maine, with a verandah and lake views, was just nearby and, as I learned at check-in, had only just been converted to an inn. I was the first and only guest at Blair Hill Inn and was given the royal treatment.

The innkeepers were a young couple from Chicago and quite enthusiastic. Asking about restaurant options, they recommended Kokadjo. Although not fancy, they assured me it was a lot of fun. Perfect. It was just what we wanted.

On picking up my folks at the lodge, however, I encountered their innkeeper. When I told him where we were going and asked his opinion, he retorted, "It's fine if you don't mind cigarette ashes in your food."

As soon as we entered Kokadjo, we knew our innkeepers were right, and cigarette ashes in our food became a distant memory. Home videos of moose were playing on the TV and the place was just alive. We would become regulars here.

My sister had ordered a lobster, and we noticed a man some distance away, appearing quite agitated. He finally blurted out that he was a lobsterman, that my sister's poor skills were driving him crazy, and did she mind if he came and helped her do this right? Which he did. Another man eating pizza alone made a general announcement that he had a few slices left, told what type of pizza he had, and did anyone want them. There were takers.

Food waste is a terrible thing, and although many will take restaurant leftovers home, there are a myriad of reasons why many do not, even those who are not inclined to be wasteful. Perhaps the amount left is too small, is not suitable for reheating, or after dinner plans would just make it too inconvenient to drag around a doggie bag. Some are just too embarrassed to ask.

Many New Yorkers eat all or most of their meals out. There is an enormous number and range of restaurants in New York City at every price level. For those who want to eat inexpensively, there are many excellent choices, often no more costly than a typical fast food establishment.

Eating in restaurants, however, is just not an efficient activity - untouched bread, unfinished drinks or condiments are discarded. Entire meals are returned uneaten because the customer did not like it. Portions are often too large. Waste is endemic - waiters will sometimes take food away without asking if the customer wants to take it home.

It is estimated that 40% of food served in New York City restaurants is thrown away. That's a lot of food. Of course, offering food to strangers or accepting and eating other's victuals obviously has a lot of problems. But when I see uneaten food on my plate or yours, I just can't help thinking of a less wasteful world and Kokadjo :)

Note: Statistics range widely, but it is estimated that 15% of food in the US is thrown away untouched or unopened. A Department of Agriculture study in 1997 found that more than 96 out of 356 billion pounds of edible food was lost to waste by retailers, restaurants, and consumers yearly. Surprisingly, the large amount that ends up in landfills is now largest contributor to methane gases released into the environment. An interesting blog about food waste (WastedFood.com) is run by Jonathan Bloom, a journalist from Durham.

New York City's Brand

If you were in Midtown Manhattan on a spring day, it would be easy to find no signs of spring other than air temperature and changed light. But as far as birds, bees, grass, flowers, trees, and any other living testaments to nature's seasonal exuberance, you need to look further afield from the concrete jungle that my high school guidance counselor was apparently quite familiar with - see the story here.

There are parks where nature reigns - Central Park, Prospect Park, Van Cortlandt, et. al. And there are neighborhoods and streets where nature shines. But, like most other living things in New York City, certain plants (and people) do much better than others. So, in aggregate, the city has its own brand of nature, often dominated with plants that are hardy survivors, like the London Planetree, or the Callery Pear seen in today's photo on lower Fifth Avenue in Greenwich Village looking north to the Empire State Building.

A city and its people define its environment. And here, even Mother Nature yields to New York City's brand ...

Related Posts: Spring Madness, Verdant Oasis, Spring Fever, Conflicted, While It Lasts.

Friendly Extortion

Like most activities, there has been an evolution in street performing. Historically, one of the difficulties has been to get audiences to take working on the streets seriously and not see it as begging or panhandling. In New York City, I believe this stigma has been largely overcome - many people do understand that street performing is a legitimate art form and a way that many artists begin their careers, supplement their income, or support themselves entirely.

One of the elements that has evolved dramatically has been the money collection process and focus. This has been honed to an art and science by some, refining the techniques that work best.

A seasoned street performer realizes that, left to their own, many audience members will walk away at the end of a show without making a donation, irrespective of whether of not they understand that this is a means of livelihood - perhaps they believe that somehow this show was otherwise funded or done for fun. So how is the performer to remind them of their duty as patron of the arts?

There are many techniques to collect money from an audience, with varying degrees of aggressiveness and effectiveness. The method of choice for optimum results on acts with dramatic finishes is to hold back the finale and collect before it. Often, the collection becomes part of the act itself, with a variety of comedic solicitations. This can escalate to mass manipulation by some acts. One group I know of routinely spends as long as 25 minutes collecting money before their grand finale.

The tumbling and acrobatic act in the photo is a typical, classic example. The act's finale, where Tylon Moore (Hip Hop Acrobat) performs an incredible forward somersault over seven audience members, is set up with deliberation. Audience members are chosen to stand in a line, lean over, and hold this position while the money collection process begins. There is certainly an element of pressure to donate and guilt for those who do not - this is manipulated to varying degrees, sometimes explicitly.

With other acts, I have witnessed a virtual bidding induced style of collection, where a New York City borough competition is created with announcements being made as to the donation amount and the residence of the donor. Challenges are then made to other borough residents to up the ante. Properly handled, exceptional amounts of money can be generated this way, in something we could perhaps call friendly extortion :)

Fourth Anniversary

NAVIGATION NOTE: Each of the images below is linked to the original posting.

Much like the clichéd married spouse who is amiss and forgets their wedding anniversary, I, in spite of some thinking in advance, let the day of the Fourth Anniversary of this blog slip by. New York Daily Photo started on March 17, 2006 - there have been 1220 postings to date. Please accept my belated anniversary gift.

As in the previous three anniversaries (see links below), I have put together a collage of 48 photos from the last 12 months, featuring many favorite postings of mine and visitors to this site. I have assembled a wide a spectrum of photos in keeping with the spirit of this website - street life, festivals, architecture, special people, food, vistas, music, nature, local businesses, the unusual, the lesser known and the whimsical.

In the last year, I have increasingly woven more personal stories and unique experiences from my life both here and outside of New York into my writings, with this site becoming not only a guide to New York City but also a place to share the view from my window. Thanks to all of you for visiting and reading :)

Anniversary Postings: First Anniversary, Second Anniversary, Third Anniversary.

White Sauce

One of the extraordinarily fascinating facets of New York City life is the ethnic concentration that you often find in various businesses and enterprises. And one of those enjoyed by all is the cuisine. This is what makes New York a literal smorgasbord of delectable food from all corners of the globe and one of the biggest allures of the city to visitors.

Halal food carts are to be found everywhere in the city. I was perplexed at the large number featuring a cuisine governed by Islamic dietary stricture- Halal is a term meaning lawful or permissible according to Islamic law, and, as applied to food, is analogous to kosher dietary laws. The number of Halal carts would seem to be disproportionate to the number of potential patrons, but, like many things in this city, the explanation is as much, if not more, about the nature of the vendors than it is by customer demand.

New immigrant groups come to New York City in waves. One barometer is taxi and car service drivers who, in recent years, have been predominantly Bangladeshi (see Lahore here). These drivers account, in large part, for the initial success of the Halal carts. An article from The New York Times explains the evolution:

Sidewalk wisdom holds that Muslims took over the street-cart business in the 1990s from Greeks, who had themselves inherited it from Italians and Germans. Census data broadly supports this chronology. In an analysis of data from 1990, the Queens College sociology department found that 306 first-generation German and Italian New Yorkers identified themselves as members of an occupational category that included the job “street vendor”; by 2005, that figure had dropped to zero. During that period, the number of Greeks in the field rose to 200 from 120, while the number of Egyptians, Bangladeshis and Afghans surged to 563 from 69.

Of course, hungry New Yorkers and visitors are happy to adapt to any new well-prepared cuisine. The Halal cart at 53rd and 6th Avenue is now legendary, with lines as long as 2 hours and even its own Wikipedia page. They have been finalists in the annual Vendy awards. Initially patronized by those of Middle Eastern and South Asian descent, this cart, like others, is now frequented by many others.

What's particularly nice about Halal food carts is that they offer complete meals, such as chicken and rice, not just a snack item such as the ubiquitous hot dog from small pushcarts. See a Halal menu here.

And then there is the mysterious, semi-secret white sauce, which has spawned discussions and articles - see here. New Yorkers love this kind of thing - what's better than a secret, mysterious, ethnic, delicious white sauce?