Panorama Part 1: New York Paleotectonic

What excites me most about the Queens Museum of Art’s “Panorama of the City of New York” is that it is an exact replica of the city as it was in 1992. As buildings have fallen and risen, the Panorama has stayed the same. It’s the city I fell in love with and it’s the city I miss. But that’s changing now.

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Obnoxious partiers who violate the sanctity of East 5th and 6th Streets have officially been put on notice. Maybe Shaoul should hire house mothers to keep the peace in these “dorms.” [EVG]

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Fire Island has very few amenities and no cars - it is loved for this very reason. A quiet refuge with red wagons and walkers, it is one of the most remarkable environments considering its proximity to New York City. Typically, the very few bars and restaurants that do exist in some communities are quite poor, catering to a captive audience. But invariably, a combination of boredom and curiosity does set in, and a visit to the local watering hole at least once is inevitable.
While weekending there many years ago, a friend returned from the only bar in town. When asked about the nature of his adventure and the type of people he found, he replied “land sharks, nothing but land sharks.” By land sharks, he meant men who had no purpose other than a very focused and singular mission to score with women. Perhaps we found it repugnant because there was not even the artifice of a mating ritual at a bar at that time. Or perhaps we were just jealous that we did not have the chutzpah to join the mix and endure the slings and arrows of female rejection.
The nice thing about being a pigeon is that courtship rituals are so well scripted. There is no anxiety, trepidation or self consciousness in their application. Best of all there appears to be no stigma or concern with rejection.
The recently vacated Mexican restaurant, Senor Swanky in Greenwich Village at Bleecker and Laguardia, was a place that proclaimed itself as “celebrity hangout” on its signs, a source of hilarity for a number of we neighborhood residents. It has been closed since July, 2008, and its awnings and ledges have become a very busy pigeon roost, with droppings everywhere. In observing this appropriately consecrated place (the restaurant was dreadful from what I have read), I observed the mating ritual of two pigeons in a very linear style, confined as they were to the edge of the canopy. Left to right, right to left, left to right. Persistence is part of the game.
The mating rituals of the feral pigeon (Columba Livia - Rock Pigeon or Rock Dove) are of course well documented with behavior like bowing, tailing, driving and cooing. But we may never know whether some males, unsuccessful in their courting efforts, will return to some of their brethren and when asked about the doves at Senor Swanky’s, will respond in defense - “land sharks, nothing but land sharks.” Read the rest of this entry »

New Yorks first pizzas were baked in coal-fired ovens, which are now a relative rarity.

How I helped build the bomb that blew up Wall Street.

There are subjects which are complex and extremely difficult to understand, like theoretical physics and abstract mathematics. And some have taken the already difficult a step furtherlike Wittgenstein, Hegel and Jacques Derrida - try fathoming their writing and you can see why they have been accused of deliberate obscurantism.
Mix the already complex with deliberate obscurantism and what do you get? The saga of Ray’s Pizza. Residents know and visitors quickly become aware of the endless parade of Ray’s Pizzas and their variants in this city: Ray’s Original Pizza, Famous Ray’s Pizza, World-Famous Original Ray’s Pizza, and even Not Ray’s Pizza
I have dug into this story, giving myself adequate time to study the details. It does appear that Ray’s Pizza at 27 Prince Street (in Little Italy) is the first NYC pizzeria bearing that name. It has been in business since 1959, and according to an investigative article in the New York Times in 1991, Ray’s Pizza was first listed in the 1960 Manhattan telephone book. On my recent visit, a red banner strung indoors proclaimed their 50th anniversary. A faded photo of Joe Dimaggio hung near a framed, yellowing front page from the New York Times, all in the understated style characteristic of Cuomo’s pizzeria.
Ray’s was opened by Ralph Cuomo, the 22-year-old son of immigrants from southern Italy, using his mother’s recipe.Problems began when Rosolino Mangano began opening Ray’s around town. According to the 1991 article in the New York Times:
“In the early 1960’s he [Ralph Cuomo] briefly had another Ray’s Pizza at 1073 First Avenue near 59th Street, but he sold that, and in 1964 it ended up in the hands of . . .
A Ray Named Rosolino. The expansionist era began with Rosolino Mangano, an immigrant from Sicily, who used that First Avenue Ray’s to found an empire which now includes a dozen Famous Original Ray’s pizzerias in Manhattan, each adorned with a coat of arms featuring tomatoes, wheat and a cow.”
And then there was a Ray named Gary:
“In 1981 Mr. Mangano sold a Ray’s pizzeria at Second Avenue and 51st Street to Gary Esposito, who grew up in Floral Park, Queens. Mr. Esposito opened five more Original Ray’s pizzerias on Long Island and in New Jersey, but he showed one remarkable bit of restraint. ‘I have never said that I am Ray,’ he declared last week. ‘That’s my claim to originality.’ “
For more of this fascinating story, see the original Times article here.
The pizza? Excellent and one of my favorites in New York City, along with Two Boots. I love the pesto …

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On the Beverly Hills’d end of Bleecker Street, that mini Rodeo Drive west of about 10th Street, also known as the Marc Jacobs Mall, there’s little left of the old Village. After we lost Nusraty Afghan Imports to Brooks Brothers, perhaps the only “original” shop that now remains is a small gallery called A Clean, Well-Lighted Place.

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AMNY wonders…Next Stop 1970s?

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Have you ever been to a place where on a moonless night it is so black that you can not see your own hand? Perhaps you live in such a place. But I can assure you - you will not find that here.
Have you ever been to a place where you can read a magazine virtually anywhere at any time at night unaided? Welcome to New York City where the difference between day and night is blurry enough to confuse birds who sing at night and fly to exhaustion and some cases death. An estimated 100 million birds die annually hitting various structures. New York City makes a sizable contribution. Campaigns have been initiatedto reduce building lighting at night in urban areas - saving both energy and birds.
In cities like New York, Chicago and Las Vegas where there is tremendous man made light at night, circadian rhythms and all manner of habits of humans and other fauna are disrupted. I have not made any major study of this, but recently I have been using a black out shade in my bedroom and have found improved sleeping habits.
In spite of this existing ambient light level at night, we still occasionally run across night time movie sets where areas are lit at levels like that of a sports stadium. In October, 2006, local filming for the film I Am Legend took place in Washington Square Park over a two week period of time. This became a nightly social event and afforded some spectacular photo opportunities. I got a series of very atmospheric and dramatic shots - fog, cars in flames, burnt human bodies - see my postings and photos here and here.
A few nights ago I became aware of spectacular lighting of the Village prewar building at One Fifth Avenue from several blocks away. The height of the building with art deco elements being lit from directly below created some very unusual harsh shadowing reminiscent of the flashlight under the chin monster effects.
‘Twas enough light to make birds sing at night and wake up the dead. But I’m sure the residents of One Fifth Avenue, as inured as New Yorkers are, slept fine

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Where to get beer for just a buck, from 11 a.m. to 11 p.m.