The RIHS VIsitor Center Kiosk opened in 2007. In 2010 the kiosk was restored and a formal garden was planted. For years the landscaping company that worked for RIOC kept our garden looking great, at RIHS expense. In the last few years we have struggled to find a landscaping company that would maintain our small garden. Unfortunately, after bad and expensive results we were very frustrated.
One day a few months ago I met Michael Stewart. an island resident, on the Q102 bus. We chatted and I invited him to visit the kiosk.
It turns out Michael is a natural gardener and knows landscaping.
Our path along the street is now clear and weed free.
Cutting back and shaping the Maiden Grass has made a vast difference in the approach to the kiosk.
Michael Stewart has been nurturing our rose bushes all summer. Our garden has no water supply so we depend only on Mother Nature.
Our historic Queensboro Bridge Lamp post base has been revealed from overgrown plants.
The back of the kiosk is steep and hard to reach. Michael is conquering it bush by bush. The back will have a clearing for many new daffodils next spring.
Our ground around our Kwasan cherry tree is going to have many daffodils and tulips in the spring. Michael is our early morning ambassador guiding visitors, answering questions and enjoying the atmosphere before rush hour. Stop by on your way to the tram for a chat!!
CREDITS
JUDITH BERDY
We invite you to become a cherished member of our RIHS community. Simply visit our website, RIHS.us, and select the ‘Membership’ option. It’s super easy to join online via PayPal. Your support plays a pivotal role in keeping the RIHS thriving. We appreciate you!
All image are copyrighted (c) Roosevelt Island Historical Society unless otherwise indicated THIS PUBLICATION FUNDED BY DISCRETIONARY FUNDS FROM CITY COUNCIL MEMBER JULIE MENIN & ROOSEVELT ISLAND OPERATING CORPORATION PUBLIC PURPOSE FUNDS.
TUESDAY, OCTOBER 15TH, 6:30 PM. GALLERY RIVAA WALK THRU THE EXHIBIT WITH HISTORICAL SOCIETY’S JUDITH BERDY AND PHOTOGRAPHER CHRIS VAIL
Chris Vail is a documentary and news photographer.
Some of the work displayed on this site is part fo a project on regional Mexican music. It started as a photo essay for the LA Times on music in the Mexican state of Veracruz. The research for that assignment opened up a rich world of traditional music where the different genres of Mexican son vary by geographic location and historical influences.
Chris currently lives on Roosevelt Island in New York City.
Transit & Transfer: The Avant-Garde in Montmartre & Manhattan
The term “New World” originated from the late fifteenth century and referred to the recently discovered Americas which astonished Europeans who had previously thought of the world as consisting of Europe, Asia and Africa (the “Old World”).
The earliest accounts of Spanish explorations in Central and South America were written in a series of letters and reports by Peter Martyr d’Anghiera (1457 – 1526), an Italian-born historian and chaplain to the Court of Ferdinand II, King of Aragon, during the Age of Exploration.
In 1530 he penned De orbenovo (On the New World) which describes the first contacts of Europeans and Americans. From the very beginning to the present day “old” versus “new” were not simply descriptive terms, but in many ways value statements – the Old World being superior to the New World or vice versa.
The ‘A’ Word
In 1896, American physician John Harvey Girdner (1856-1933) published an essay in The North American Review entitled “The Plague of City Noises” in which he analyzed the effect thereof on the mental balance of Manhattan’s inhabitants.
Five years later he published a book on Newyorkitis. Defined as a condition by which mind, soul and body have departed from the “normal,” breeding moral and physical degeneration amongst city dwellers.
European socio-cultural observers feared that a similar epidemic might take hold of the Old Continent. Americanization became an obsession; the “A-word” made critics shiver. There was an undertone of cultural superiority in this anxiety.
An increasing sense of European crisis found expression in an ambiguous attitude towards the emerging might of the United States. Europe suffered from an “America problem” which, in turn, had a depressing effect on its own sense of identity.
Did the United States offer an escape route to exhausted continentals? Was there viable life for the offshoot as the old vine shriveled? Would the grapes of achievement be pressed in California rather than in European vineyards?
Many felt that Europe’s pride and identity were damaged and degraded. Compared to young and energetic America, the Old World appeared stale and stagnant – a museum at best, not an active and forward-looking entity.
By the same token, America suffered from its European heritage. The conflict between inherited forms and living experience has been a persistent element, consciously or unconsciously, in the work of every creative artist who has dealt with the American environment.
It figures strongly in Nathaniel Hawthorne’s writing. He sensed the necessity for new artistic forms suited to the realities of a rapidly developing democratic and industrial social system.
Transit
As Europe became more accessible to American artists after the Civil War, many young painters wished to experience the art and culture of the Old World.
The first wave of American artists in Europe consisted of painters who came to see and study the Old Masters. They undertook traditional training sessions at the great art centers and academies. They were inquisitive and introvert. The experience to them was overwhelming.
As a result, much of their early work mimics the styles of the Old World. Childe Hassam (1859 – 1935) introduced Impressionism to the United States, Marsden Hartley (1877 – 1943) was influenced by Paul Cézanne, Pablo Picasso and the Cubists, while Theodore Robinson (1852 – 1896) was in tune with Pierre-Auguste Renoir.
Amongst the numerous painters who experimented with the different movements they had encountered in Paris or elsewhere in Europe emerged an awareness of cultural identity, a desire among artists to create their own history, a tradition that would match or rival European achievements.
Throughout the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries American artists were in the process of discovering themselves and searching for a collective identity. As a consequence, historians have tended to view the development of American art in terms of a “transit of civilization” or simply as an extension of European culture.
Increasingly, the “never-ending” comparisons became both an injustice and an irritation to working artists. Abstract Expressionism is widely regarded as America’s first great stride away from the overbearing influence of the European tradition.
The movement was precipitated by Manhattan’s Milton Avery (1885 – 1965) and had inspired many of its proponents (Mark Rothko, Adolph Gottlieb and others). It angered the pioneering painter that critics lazily referred to him as “America’s Matisse.”
Although Continental trends can be traced in American art, there is nevertheless a quality in the sum of creative output that is distinct from the European tradition. The idea that one is but a maimed offshoot of the other proved untenable.
Années folles
Once the Great War was behind them, Parisians rebounded in a carnival of hedonism known as the “années folles” (crazy years). There was a new aspect to this particular orgy of pleasure: the influx of American writers, artists and musicians who escaped prohibition and puritanical small-mindedness back home. They were drawn to the French capital for its creative vitality and freedom of expression.
The second wave of arrivals in Paris consisted mostly of writers with a completely different mind-set from that of their predecessors. They were self-exiles from the New World who had left a homeland they considered artistically, intellectually and sexually oppressive.
These aspiring authors were drawn to the city for its cultural dynamism, its urge for experimentation, and for its creative space to the individual to find his or her voice.
Moving to Paris in numbers, some of these young men had plenty of cash in their pockets, taking advantage of the strong exchange rate after the collapse of the French currency. Others arrived with the sole ambition of making it as an artist. They were loud, abrasive and most of the time intoxicated. Paris was a party.
Having assumed the traditional role of the Parisian hostess (salonnière), these powerful women acted as curators of young talent having divided the territories of art between them. They were trophy hunters.
Sylvia Beach (1887 – 1962, born Nancy Woodbridge Beach) was the daughter of a Presbyterian minister. In 1901 the family moved to Paris when her father was made minister at the American Church.
The family returned six years later and settled in Princeton. By 1916 she was back in Paris as a student of literature and a lesbian woman seeking independence. Two years later she met her lifelong partner, the writer and bookseller Adrienne Monnier (1892 – 1955).
In 1919 Sylvia Beach opened Shakespeare & Co, a bookshop and lending library specializing in Anglo-American literature. The premise soon became a meeting place for modernist authors and artists.
She was a loyal friend to many struggling writers, including James Joyce. In 1922, he trusted her to produce the first printing of Ulysses where publishers in London and New York City, fearful of prosecution, had refused to touch the novel.
Harlem-on-the-Seine
There was another group of gifted Americans keen to leave the country. In the course of the 1900s Harlem had established itself as a center of African-American culture.
By the early 1920s Black music and theatre were well established. This was a talented but restless generation of artists that felt the urge to escape segregation. By the mid-1920s, many cultural torchbearers had left Harlem for Paris.
One of the first to leave was Louis Mitchell (1885 – 1957), a drummer with a fine tenor voice who had settled in Manhattan in 1912 to create his own band.
His performances at the Café des Beaux-Arts on 40th Street and 6th Avenue were admired by young Irving Berlin. Having spent some time in London, Mitchell settled in Paris. His music took Montmartre by storm.
He encouraged other African-American musicians to come and share in the city’s passion for jazz.
Living in Paris was cheap, club life roaring and alcohol flowing. Most importantly: there were no racial Jim Crow laws. Black Americans arrived in droves, especially after the Volstead Act had gone into effect in January 1920.
There were Black writers too who made the journey to Paris, including Langston Hughes (1901 – 1967), one of a group of young African-American authors whose stories and poems dealt with racial themes and taboos that challenged the conventions of a white-oriented literary culture.
Harlem moved to Paris. The impact these newcomers made on local culture was immense. As the artistic climate became increasingly experimental, modernist artists courted Black personalities such as Henry Crowder (1890–1955) and Langston Hughes for their sense of style and vitality. From a cultural point of view their presence provided a boost to French and European art and entertainment.
Transfer
During the twenty-one years from 1919 to 1940 the number of English-speaking authors who lived as expatriates in Paris included some of the most important literary figures of the time.
Henry Valentine Miller (1891 – 1980) was one of the young “nomads” who arrived in the French capital with a “fuck it all” mentality. Born in 1891 at 450 East 85th Street, Manhattan, into a family of Lutheran German immigrants, he had spent the first nine years of his life at 662 Driggs Avenue, Williamsburg, Brooklyn.
A restless and rebellious young man who hated and rejected most of what his parents America stood for, he – like many other talented youngsters of his generation – was desperate to run off.
Leaving behind a tempestuous marriage and carrying with him a novel in progress under the title Crazy Cock (the manuscript was rediscovered in 1988 by his biographer Mary Dearborn and published three years later), he settled in Paris in 1930 where – having met her in 1932 – he was supported by his Franco-American lover and fellow writer Anaïs Nin.
To Henry Miller and other young Americans Paris functioned as bar, bedroom and brothel. He intensely enjoyed the city’s relaxed attitude towards erotic entertainment that was symbolized by the emergence of Josephine Baker.
The Afro-American dancer had created a sensation in October 1925 after her debut in the Revue Nègre at the Théâtre des Champs-Élysées where, dressed in pearls and feathers, she performed her “Danse Sauvage” to a rapturous audience.
Paris acquired the reputation of a hothouse of naughtiness. Miller caught the atmosphere in his writing.
Jack Kahane was born in Manchester in 1887, the son of Rumanian Jewish immigrants. In 1929, he established the Obelisk Press and moved to Paris in order to escape British censorship.
He published pornography to make a living and, at the same time, sponsor the publication of fiction that was considered too risky by other houses, including D. H. Lawrence’s Lady Chatterley’s Lover. In 1934 he took a gamble to accept Miller’s “unpublishable” novel Tropic of Cancer. The book carried the explicit warning that it must “not be taken into Great Britain or USA.”
The novel set a new standard for graphic sexual language and imagery that shook Anglo-American censorship to the core. It remained banned for a generation, by which time it had become part of post-war cultural folklore.
Miller re-interpreted the artist’s role in society. He presented himself as one of the “Renegade Apaches” organizing raids not from the borders of Mexico, but from the Parisian frontiers of a seedy underworld – a rebel in pursuit of a raw urban aesthetic, finding a distinctly American voice in the process.
Expatriate activity had been at its most intense during the 1920s. It taught Paris that the Old World was losing its “superior” status as the realization dawned that American science and technology were progressing rapidly.
The rejection of Yankee materialism in comparison to Europe’s refined civilization was outdated by the 1930s. Another prospect emerged instead, one that projected America as a potential storehouse of the Old World’s imperiled culture – the United States, in the words of Tom Paine, as an “asylum” for persecuted Europeans.
The party faltered on Back Tuesday when on October 29, 1929, stock prices collapsed on Wall Street, ushering in a period of Great Depression in both the United States and Europe.
Most (not all) American writers, artists and entertainers living in Paris left during the 1930s as it became increasingly clear that war was inevitable.
The majority of them settled in Manhattan bringing with them a wealth of ideas and experiences. They revitalized America’s post-war cultural landscape and facilitated the transfer of the avant-garde from Montmartre to Manhattan.
CREDITS
NEW YORK ALMANACK
Illustrations, from above: Mabel Dwight “Boulevard des Italiens,” 1927; The illustrated title page of the first edition of De orbe novo (1530); Nelson Beach Greene’s “Newyorkitis,” 1914; La Closerie des Lilas, Le Café de la Société Artistique et Littéraire Française et Etrangère, 171, Boulevard de Montparnasse, Paris, 1909; Louis Mitchell’s band setting Paris alight; Henry Miller and Anaïs Nin; and Paul Colin’s “Josephine Baker,” 1925 (Smithsonian National Portrait Gallery).
JUDITH BERDY
All image are copyrighted (c) Roosevelt Island Historical Society unless otherwise indicated THIS PUBLICATION FUNDED BY DISCRETIONARY FUNDS FROM CITY COUNCIL MEMBER JULIE MENIN & ROOSEVELT ISLAND OPERATING CORPORATION PUBLIC PURPOSE FUNDS.
Congregation Shearith Israel, located since 1897 on West 70th Street and Central Park West, traces its origins to the arrival of persecuted Jews from Recife, Brazil, to the Dutch colony of New Amsterdam in 1654. This was arguably the first arrival and settlement of Jews as a religious community in the United States. New York’s history as a port and colonial imperial hub makes the history of New York the study of diasporas. Shearith Israel links the history of New York to Sephardi diasporas and Atlantic history
In the northeast of Brazil, Recife was home to the oldest Jewish community in the Americas, dating back to 1534. Many Portuguese Jews were forced Christian converts, known then as New Christians or conversos, after King Manuel’s 1496 edict left them with the choice of conversion or expulsion. After the colonization of Brazil, some of these conversos found refuge in Recife, where they could practice Judaism in secret. Other conversos used their commercial networks to settle in Amsterdam, becoming brokers in the transatlantic sugar trade. Later, in 1630, the Dutch conquest of Recife brought new Jewish settlers and religious toleration to the crypto-Jews. However, in 1654 the Portuguese reconquest of Recife from the Dutch brought a new wave of forced migrations. Two hundred Jewish families returned to Amsterdam, others sought refuge in the Caribbean, and a few left for New Amsterdam.
Jewish Settlement in New York
In September of 1654, twenty-three Jewish refugees from Recife arrived in New York. Upon arrival, this group of Jews from Recife was not welcomed by the colony’s director-general, Peter Stuyvesant. It became apparent that the Dutch Brazilian enclaves’ religious toleration did not apply to the New Netherlands. Unlike their North American counterparts, Sephardic Jews represented an important asset for the plantation economy for the Dutch in Brazil. Despite Stuyvesant’s objections, this group of newly arrived Jews appealed directly to the West Indian Company. In 1655 the Company granted Jews the right to stay, recognizing their loyalty and investment in the company as shareholders. Additionally, the company also granted Jews the right to trade in the Hudson and Delaware valleys.
Since the days of New Amsterdam, Jews in New York worshipped in private spaces. This changed in April 1730 with the consecration of the first synagogue. In gathering funds for the synagogue’s construction, the role of the transatlantic networks was again evident. Overseas donations, which came from places as far as London or Curaçao, made up a large part of the construction funds. Although this first synagogue was consecrated as Sephardic, throughout the eighteenth century, the majority of worshippers were already Ashkenazi.
Shearith Israel became the synagogue for all New York Jews, although events such as the American Revolution divided the community between loyalists and revolutionaries. Despite any divisions, the American context offered a unique opportunity for Sephardic and Ashkenazi Jews to interact in shared spaces, a remarkable difference from the European experience, in which both groups had their own synagogues, cemeteries, and preferred languages. However, this unity only lasted for so long. As early as 1728, Ashkenazi Jews were already the majority Jewish community in New York. By 1825, due to geographical dispersion and tensions over rituals, they separated from Shearith Israel and established their own congregation, B’nai Jeshurun.
Assimilation and Neoclassical Architecture
The Jewish assimilation experience in the United States contrasted with the European one. Unlike Europe, the colonial context and the United States’ settlement by waves of immigrants offered Jews the possibility of assimilation into a land of cultural diversity. In more homogenous societies, Jews often found themselves easily singled out as outsiders, but the United States’ religious heterogeneity meant that Jews were a group among many. This particular assimilation process is evident in the adoption of neoclassicism as the preferred architectural style for Reform Jewish congregations in the United States. While in Europe, religious minorities occupied marginalized spaces, where places of worship often evoked orientalist architecture, in the United States, the ethos of assimilation seemed to promote an architecture that could blend in.
Architect of the current Shearith Israel synagogue, Arnold W. Brunner (1857-1925), was a strong proponent of classicism. Brunner theorized classicism as an architecture linking Jews both to Antiquity or the time before Jewish dispersion and western modernity. However, the preference for neoclassical architecture was not unique to Brunner. Shearith Israel’s previous synagogue on Crosby street also borrowed from Greek and Roman architecture by incorporating elements seen in the Temple of Athena Nike and the Temple of Fortuna Virilis.
In late nineteenth New York City, the adoption of neoclassical architecture also served as an attempt to differentiate Reform Jews from other groups such as immigrant Orthodox Jews at a time of public concern over immigration and poverty. Additionally, the Columbian Exposition of 1893 contributed to the popularization of classicism as the solution to urban social decay. The expositions’ main theme, the White City, reinforced the contrast between neoclassical planned urbanity with polluted, crowded, and crime-ridden cities.
Architect of the current Shearith Israel synagogue, Arnold W. Brunner (1857-1925), was a strong proponent of classicism. Brunner theorized classicism as an architecture linking Jews both to Antiquity or the time before Jewish dispersion and western modernity. However, the preference for neoclassical architecture was not unique to Brunner. Shearith Israel’s previous synagogue on Crosby street also borrowed from Greek and Roman architecture by incorporating elements seen in the Temple of Athena Nike and the Temple of Fortuna Virilis.
In late nineteenth New York City, the adoption of neoclassical architecture also served as an attempt to differentiate Reform Jews from other groups such as immigrant Orthodox Jews at a time of public concern over immigration and poverty. Additionally, the Columbian Exposition of 1893 contributed to the popularization of classicism as the solution to urban social decay. The expositions’ main theme, the White City, reinforced the contrast between neoclassical planned urbanity with polluted, crowded, and crime-ridden cities.
Another interested aspect of Shearith Israel is its cemetery, which has been moved four times! The congregation’s website places the oldest of its cemeteries at Chatham Square on what is now St. James Street. The first internment dates to 1683. In 1823, the 11th Street cemetery became the Synagogue’s next cemetery location, after a city ordinance banned burials below Canal Street. Among those buried at the 11th Street, location are Revolutionary war veteran, Ephraim Hart, and the noted painter, Joshua A. Canter. Throughout the 19th-century, parts of the cemetery were moved and the burial grounds were made smaller. In 1830, the street grid forced the cemetery to relocate to 21st Street, just west of Sixth Avenue. When New York City prohibited burial in Manhattan below 86th Street in 1851, the Synagogue’s cemetery finally moved to Queens. You can see traces of all three former locations in Manhattan to this day.
TUESDAY, OCTOBER 15TH, 6:30 PM. GALLERY RIVAA WALK THRU THE EXHIBIT WITH HISTORICAL SOCIETY’S JUDITH BERDY AND PHOTOGRAPHER CHRIS VAIL
Chris Vail is a documentary and news photographer.
Some of the work displayed on this site is part fo a project on regional Mexican music. It started as a photo essay for the LA Times on music in the Mexican state of Veracruz. The research for that assignment opened up a rich world of traditional music where the different genres of Mexican son vary by geographic location and historical influences.
Chris currently lives on Roosevelt Island in New York City.
Julio Yarce is currently a Library and Information Studies student at CUNY Queens College. In his spare time, he likes to read and write about New York’s history and its global links to European and other diasporas. He holds graduate degrees in European and Mediterranean history from the University of Miami and French Studies from New York UniversityJUDITH BERDY
All image are copyrighted (c) Roosevelt Island Historical Society unless otherwise indicated THIS PUBLICATION FUNDED BY DISCRETIONARY FUNDS FROM CITY COUNCIL MEMBER JULIE MENIN & ROOSEVELT ISLAND OPERATING CORPORATION PUBLIC PURPOSE FUNDS.
Eastern wild turkeys (Meleagris gallopavo) are native to New York State and are believed to have been in North America before humans inhabited the continent, though their history within New York is checkered.
Wild turkeys occupied New York State when it was first colonized by Europeans. However, they lost much of their habitat when local forests were cleared by settlers for timber and to create farmland. Between habitat loss and unregulated hunting, most of the wild turkeys in New York were exterminated by the mid-1840s.
It wasn’t until around 1948 that they began to return, crossing into Western New York from Northern Pennsylvania. With the help of a 1959 program instituted by the State Conservation Department that involved reintroducing turkeys to areas throughout New York, numbers of wild turkeys began to grow again in the state.
This past August, community scientists from around the state reported nearly 1,800 observations of hen turkeys and poults to the New York State Department of Environmental Conservation (DEC). Productivity (e.g., the number of poults per hen) this past summer was the highest DEC has documented since 2013 and the 3rd highest since the survey began in 2005.
However, turkey populations in New York State peaked in the late 1990s and early 2000s and over the past decade, turkey productivity has consistently been below average, leading to lower populations.
The larger number of turkeys this year was likely the result of a dry and warm nesting season. The late June rains don’t appear to have negatively impacted turkey (and other ground nesting birds).
Wild turkeys generally live in woods, mountain forests, and wooded swamps, preferring areas with a mixture of woodland and open clearings. They can fly, but typically get around by walking or running. They usually roost at night in tall trees to avoid predators, but create their nesting sites on the ground in small depressions lined with grasses and leaves.
The turkey breeding season begins in early April and continues through early June. During this time, the toms perform courtship displays. They will strut, fluff their feathers, drag their wings, and gobble to attract the attention of hens. A single tom will mate with many hens.
After mating, the hen goes off by herself to nest. Over a period of two weeks, the hen lays 10 to 12 cream-colored eggs which hatch after 28 days of incubation, usually in late May or early June. The hen will then move her young, called “poults,” into grassy areas where they can feed on the abundant supply of insects.
Young poults are preyed upon by domestic dogs, coyotes, raccoons, skunks, and great-horned owls, among other predators. Most poults can fly about two to three weeks after they are born. While unable to fly, they are particularly vulnerable to predators. Around 60%-70% of poults die during their first four weeks after hatching.
Once they are able to fly, they will roost in trees at night to avoid predators. Turkeys generally have a lifespan of three to four years in the wild.
Eastern wild turkeys change their diets based on the season. In spring and summer, they feed on a wide variety of plants and insects. In the fall, they eat acorns, corn, oats, and other seasonal plants and nuts. When winter comes they depend on any plants, seeds, nuts, and fruits left over from the fall. They are very adaptable, and are able to live up to two weeks without food.
Photo: A group of turkeys on Staten Island (photo by Katrina Toal / NYC Parks)
TUESDAY, OCTOBER 15TH, 6:30 PM. GALLERY RIVAA WALK THRU THE EXHIBIT WITH HISTORICAL SOCIETY’S JUDITH BERDY AND PHOTOGRAPHER CHRIS VAIL
Chris Vail is a documentary and news photographer.
Some of the work displayed on this site is part fo a project on regional Mexican music. It started as a photo essay for the LA Times on music in the Mexican state of Veracruz. The research for that assignment opened up a rich world of traditional music where the different genres of Mexican son vary by geographic location and historical influences.
Chris currently lives on Roosevelt Island in New York City.
CREDITS
NEW YORK ALMANACK
JUDITH BERDY
All image are copyrighted (c) Roosevelt Island Historical Society unless otherwise indicated THIS PUBLICATION FUNDED BY DISCRETIONARY FUNDS FROM CITY COUNCIL MEMBER JULIE MENIN & ROOSEVELT ISLAND OPERATING CORPORATION PUBLIC PURPOSE FUNDS.
A midcentury painter’s rich, reflective portrait of a Manhattan tenement hallway
Most New Yorkers probably don’t think too much about their apartment hallway. It’s a typically narrow, empty space closed off by shut doors that we only pass through to get to the elevator or stairwell.
Artist Charles L. Goeller decided to use a hallway as the inspiration of this undated painting. “Tenement Hallway,” as Goeller titled it, may seem flat and one-dimensional at first glance. But the more you look at it, the more it comes alive.
The bright light, rich paint, and gold in the carpet give the hallway a vibrant, lively feel. It feels open as well, with the angled door of the apartment in the distance and the curved wood of the banister leading downstairs.
Born in 1901, Goeller found success in the early and middle decades of the 20th century as a Precisionist painter of colorful, geometric still lifes, portraits (see his self-portrait, below), and landscapes. His early education, however, was in architecture. His approach here is to give dimension and emotion to flat surfaces.
I have no idea exactly where this tenement hallway is located. Goeller lived most of his life in New Jersey, though he did reside in New York City in the 1930s, exhibiting his work at galleries.
One of his paintings depicts the Third Avenue El and part of a city streetscape around East 19th Street. The Smithsonian Institute states that he “lived just a few doors east of this corner.” So perhaps this tenement hallway was likely in Gramercy.
TUESDAY, OCTOBER 15TH, 6:30 PM. GALLERY RIVAA WALK THRU THE EXHIBIT WITH HISTORICAL SOCIETY’S JUDITH BERDY AND PHOTOGRAPHER CHRIS VAIL
Chris Vail is a documentary and news photographer.
Some of the work displayed on this site is part fo a project on regional Mexican music. It started as a photo essay for the LA Times on music in the Mexican state of Veracruz. The research for that assignment opened up a rich world of traditional music where the different genres of Mexican son vary by geographic location and historical influences.
Chris currently lives on Roosevelt Island in New York City.
YOM KIPPUR SUNSET FRIDAY, OCTOBER 11TH RIJC.ORG FOR DETAILS
All image are copyrighted (c) Roosevelt Island Historical Society unless otherwise indicated THIS PUBLICATION FUNDED BY DISCRETIONARY FUNDS FROM CITY COUNCIL MEMBER JULIE MENIN & ROOSEVELT ISLAND OPERATING CORPORATION PUBLIC PURPOSE FUNDS.
A FORGOTTEN PLAQUE INBROOKLYNPUTS A SPOTLIGHT ON THE CITY’SFIRST OFFICIAL STREET CLEANERSEPHEMERAL NEW YORK
TUESDAY, OCTOBER 8, 2024
ISSUE #1323
On an unmarked brick building in the Dumbo neighborhood of Brooklyn is a metal plaque. Weathered from age and neglect, the words “City of New York” and “Department of Street Cleaning” stand out in bold letters.
This easy-to-miss plaque, just shy of the Brooklyn Bridge, dates back to at least 1921, when Brooklyn resident Alfred Taylor became the longtime head of the Department of Street Cleaning, and John Hylan was the city’s mayor.
The department, headquartered in Manhattan, had branches in each borough. Presumably this brick building was the Brooklyn outpost—an ideal place to store machinery, shovels, brooms, and vehicles, as the area was a gritty waterside manufacturing enclave with few residential neighbors.
The plaque doesn’t provide any information about the Department of Street Cleaning. But in 1881, when the department was officially created, it filled a desperate need.
Up until then, the city’s Street Cleaning Bureau worked under the auspices of the Police Department. The men in this crew (below illustration) were tasked with keeping ashes, garbage, horse manure, snow, ice, and other “light refuse and rubbish” from mucking up New York’s notoriously trashy thoroughfares.
Bureau workers were not particularly successful, and city residents continued to be disgusted. The need for street cleaning was also increasingly seen as a health issue, as scientific advances demonstrated how unsanitary conditions could spread disease.
So the men employed by the new Department of Street Cleaning hit the streets. They were now part of city government, which gave them a sense of professionalism as they cleaned up after tenement dwellers who hurled household trash out windows and drivers who left horse carcasses in gutters rather than pay to have them properly removed.
That professionalism was heightened once George Waring, an engineer and Civil War colonel, took over the department in 1895. Waring instilled a military-like structure that mandated crisp white uniforms—hence the new nickname for department employees, the White Wings.
Roughly a decade after the plaque was in place, the department came to an end. In 1933, the Department of Sanitation was created, which took over the task of street cleaning and is still in charge today.
But I like that this plaque remains—a reminder of the men who day after day tackled (and continue to tackle) a thankless and often unseen responsibility: keeping New York City’s streets clean.
TUESDAY, OCTOBER 15TH, (DATE CORRECTION) 6:30 PM. GALLERY RIVAA
Chris Vail is a documentary and news photographer.
Some of the work displayed on this site is part fo a project on regional Mexican music. It started as a photo essay for the LA Times on music in the Mexican state of Veracruz. The research for that assignment opened up a rich world of traditional music where the different genres of Mexican son vary by geographic location and historical influences.
Chris currently lives on Roosevelt Island in New York City.
JUST FOR FUN! BRING BACK MAD MAGAZINE!
ON VIEW AT THE NORMAN ROCKWELL MUSEUM IS A WONDERFUL COLLECTION OF ALL THINGS MAD MAGAZINE, IT IS A MEMORY FILLED EXHIBIT, IN STOCKBRIDGE, MASS.
CREDITS
EPHEMERAL NEW YORK
JUDITH BERDY
All image are copyrighted (c) Roosevelt Island Historical Society unless otherwise indicated THIS PUBLICATION FUNDED BY DISCRETIONARY FUNDS FROM CITY COUNCIL MEMBER JULIE MENIN & ROOSEVELT ISLAND OPERATING CORPORATION PUBLIC PURPOSE FUNDS.
EVENTS SPONSORED BY: THE NY PUBIC LIBRARY GALLERY RIVAA ROOSEVELT ISLAND HISTORICAL SOCIETY
FRIDAY-WEEKEND OCTOBER 4-6, 2024 ISSUE #1322
SMALLPOX HOSPITAL IN THE SNOW
TUESDAY, OCTOBER 8TH @ 7 P.M.
Roosevelt Island: Art, Memory, and Community | Panel Discussion
Tuesday, October 8th @ 7 PM, RIVAA Gallery
Join us for a discussion in conjunction with the current photographic exhibition, Roosevelt Island: The Vision Revisited. RIVAA will bring together three distinguished panelists, who through their talent and remarkable efforts, have contributed to the beauty and quality of our built environment on Roosevelt Island.
– Amanda Matthews is a sculptor and creator of The Girl Puzzle, a tribute to groundbreaking investigative journalist Nellie Bly. Through her reporting, Nelly Bly changed how mental illness was treated in this country.
– Gina Pollara, Executive Director of the Franklin D. Roosevelt Four Freedoms Park from 2006-2013, oversaw the construction of the memorial designed by architect Louis I. Kahn to commemorate the 32nd President of the United States.
– Susan Rosenthal, President and CEO of Roosevelt Island Operating Corporation (RIOC) from 2016-2020, conceived the idea of a monument to Nelly Bly.
– Chris Vail, exhibiting photographer of Roosevelt Island: The Vision Revisited will moderate.
TUESDAY, OCTOBER 13TH, 6:30 PM. GALLERY RIVAA
Chris Vail is a documentary and news photographer.
Some of the work displayed on this site is part fo a project on regional Mexican music. It started as a photo essay for the LA Times on music in the Mexican state of Veracruz. The research for that assignment opened up a rich world of traditional music where the different genres of Mexican son vary by geographic location and historical influences.
Chris currently lives on Roosevelt Island in New York City.
FROM A SUBSCRIBER
The eagles of the original Pennsylvania Station in Manhattan have had a celebrated history – particularly since the beginning of the historic building’s demolition. On the initial day of Penn’s ‘deconstruction’ in 1964, the eagles were the first things removed from the structure. Several were ceremonially lowered from their perches above Seventh Avenue and dutifully photographed for the newspapers and TV.
This media event was intended to symbolize the “magnificent” progress the new Madison Square Garden Center would mean to New York but instead – sitting on the pavement and looking a bit angry – they immediately became emblematic of all the city was to lose with Penn Station’s demolition.
Photographs of those earthbound eagles from that fateful day appeared again and again over the next twenty years. When Senator Daniel Patrick Moynihan opened his first hearing on moving Penn Station to what is now Moynihan Train Hall, he sat between two pictures: one of the ruined fourteen story ticket lobby and the other of one of those eagles.
Some remarkable photojournalism work was done documenting the demolition of Penn Station – but I have always believed those stone eagles, shorn of the building for which they were made, did as much (or more) to galvanize support for replacing the facility than any other single thing. That’s a proud accomplishment for a proud bird.
guy ludwig laudisi October, 2024 Westview
CREDITS
CHRIS VAIL PHOTOGRAPHY
JUDITH BERDY
All image are copyrighted (c) Roosevelt Island Historical Society unless otherwise indicated THIS PUBLICATION FUNDED BY DISCRETIONARY FUNDS FROM CITY COUNCIL MEMBER JULIE MENIN & ROOSEVELT ISLAND OPERATING CORPORATION PUBLIC PURPOSE FUNDS.
The Smithsonian National Zoo in Washington, D.C. is home to many species of birds, including a special eagle from New York City. You will find it perched outside the birdhouse. This stone monument is a remnant of the original Penn Station, designed by McKim, Mead, and White. It was one of 22 eagles that lined the cornice of the colossal train station. When the station was demolished in 1963, the eagles were scattered throughout the country.
Pennsylvania Central Railroad donated the eagle to the zoo after encouragement from Smithsonian Secretary Dillon Ripley. According to a sign located next to the statue, the eagle arrived in D.C. in 1965. It temporarily moved to Montreal for the Expo 67, where it was on display in the U.S. Pavilion. You can see it from above in this photo!
The eagle at the zoo is made of Tennessee pink marble and was designed by German-born sculptor Adolph Weinman. You may think it resembles the eagle on the Walking Liberty Half Dollar, also designed by Weinman. In addition to the stone eagles, Weinman crafted four pairs of allegorical figures titled “Day and Night” for Penn Station. One of those pairs, along with a pair of eagles, serves as the centerpiece of a fountain in Kansas City.
A PIGEON ON THE HIGHLINE
Rendering Courtesy of Iván Argote
A giant pigeon will soon be keeping watch over 10th Avenue. Iván Argote’s sculpture Dinosaur lands on the High Line this October as the next High Line Plinth commission. Perched atop the intersection of 10th Ave and 30th Street, Dinosaur is a colossal, hyper-realistic sculpture of a pigeon, cast in aluminum and hand-painted. “The name Dinosaur makes reference to the sculpture’s scale and to the pigeon’s ancestors who millions of years ago dominated the globe, as we humans do today,” said Argote in a press release. “The name also serves as a reference to the dinosaur’s extinction. Like them, one day we won’t be around anymore, but perhaps a remnant of humanity will live on—as pigeons do—in the dark corners and gaps of future worlds. I feel this sculpture could generate an uncanny feeling of attraction, seduction, and fear among the inhabitants of New York.” Dinosaur will be in view through Spring 2026.
ROSIE
ROSIE J-WALKS AND NOW WE HAVE SIGNS FOR DRIVERS TO BE WARNED OF HER VENTURES AROUND THE ISLAND.
Roosevelt Island: Art, Memory, and Community | Panel Discussion
Tuesday, October 8th @ 7 PM, RIVAA Gallery
Join us for a discussion in conjunction with the current photographic exhibition, Roosevelt Island: The Vision Revisited. RIVAA will bring together three distinguished panelists, who through their talent and remarkable efforts, have contributed to the beauty and quality of our built environment on Roosevelt Island.
– Amanda Matthews is a sculptor and creator of The Girl Puzzle, a tribute to groundbreaking investigative journalist Nellie Bly. Through her reporting, Nelly Bly changed how mental illness was treated in this country.
– Gina Pollara, Executive Director of the Franklin D. Roosevelt Four Freedoms Park from 2006-2013, oversaw the construction of the memorial designed by architect Louis I. Kahn to commemorate the 32nd President of the United States.
– Susan Rosenthal, President and CEO of Roosevelt Island Operating Corporation (RIOC) from 2016-2020, conceived the idea of a monument to Nelly Bly.
– Chris Vail, exhibiting photographer of Roosevelt Island: The Vision Revisited will moderate.
CREDITS
UNTAPPED NEW YORK
JUDITH BERDY
All image are copyrighted (c) Roosevelt Island Historical Society unless otherwise indicated THIS PUBLICATION FUNDED BY DISCRETIONARY FUNDS FROM CITY COUNCIL MEMBER JULIE MENIN & ROOSEVELT ISLAND OPERATING CORPORATION PUBLIC PURPOSE FUNDS.
By most accounts, the Lincoln Tunnel is the world’s busiest vehicular tunnel (the type used by cars and trucks). It actually consists of three levels in a tube, and accommodates about 43 million vehicles per year, or about 120,000 per day.
It was opened in 1937, ten years after the Holland Tunnel (about three miles south) began handling traffic, and a Northern New York man was instrumental to the success of both tunnel systems.
Charles Watson Murdock, a native of Crown Point, New York, worked closely with some of the best engineers in American history, playing a key role in solving a problem unique to tunnels for vehicles with gasoline-powered engines.
Charles was born on February 11, 1889, to Andrew and Mary Murdock. After entering the Sherman Collegiate Institute (a prep school in Moriah), he attended Middlebury College in Vermont, earning a Bachelor of Arts degree, and then RPI in Troy, graduating in 1912 as a civil engineer. Following a stint with the New York Telephone Company, he accepted a position with the Public Service Commission, 1st District, New York City in 1913.
During the next several years, a pressing problem developed in Murdock’s field of work. The automobile had taken hold in America, and with the proliferation of cars in New York City, gridlock became routine. There were far too many vehicles on the road, clogging thoroughfares with major traffic jams, particularly at bridges.
Ferries helped, but the wait was long. The solution of adding more bridges and more ferries carried several additional problems. After studying the issues, experts decided that tunnels were the best option.
Plenty of tunnels had been dug in the past to accommodate trains, water pipelines, and subway systems. The advent of the automobile introduced new problems in anything but the shortest of tunnels. The gasoline engine emitted poisonous gases, primarily carbon monoxide. The problem vexing engineers was how to discharge those deadly gases from tunnels to make the air safe.
No method had yet been devised to fill long tunnels (like the planned 1.6-mile Holland) with safe and breathable air. Slow traffic, stalled cars, and accidents could keep citizens within a tunnel for lengthy periods. All the while, every vehicle would be pumping poisonous gas into an enclosed space, with deadly results.
From among several options, the method proposed by Clifford Holland was chosen. On his team of engineers was Charles Murdock, who was then employed by the New York State Bridge and Tunnel Commission and the New Jersey Interstate Bridge and Tunnel Commission. (Clifford Holland died just two days before the two tunnels from east and west were joined. The project was renamed in his honor.)
Several dozen structures requiring innovative and exceptional engineering skills have been called “the Eighth Wonder of the World.” Among them is the Holland Tunnel, “the world’s first mechanically ventilated underwater vehicular tunnel.” That long-winded description is very important — the Holland’s machine-powered air-handling system became the standard blueprint for automobile tunnels the world over for the next seven decades.
Charles Murdock was deeply involved in its design, development, and implementation. In 1921, he conducted subway ventilation tests at the University of Illinois. Further work— highly detailed, exhaustive experimentation—was done in a test tunnel created in an old mine near Bruceton, Pennsylvania, duplicating the Holland site. The data from those testing facilities formed a basis for the creation of the Holland Tunnel’s ventilation system.
In the process, the engineering team also developed and used the first reliable automated carbon monoxide detector (with kudos from miners and canaries alike, no doubt).
The giant tubes that formed the highway tunnels were separated into three horizontal layers. The middle layer handled traffic; the bottom layer conducted fresh air throughout the tunnel; and the top layer pulled the poisonous gases upward for removal.
The system was driven by four 10-story ventilation towers, two on each side of the river. Together they housed 84 fans of 8 feet in diameter—half provided fresh air, which flowed through slits in the tunnel floor, and the other half expelled “dirty” air and gases skyward. The system provided a complete change in the tunnel’s air every 90 seconds.
Should it ever fail, thousands of lives were at risk. For that reason, extreme safety measures were built into the system. Power to the fans was supplied from six independent sources, three on each side of the river, and each capable of powering the entire tunnel on its own.
Due to Murdock’s great expertise, he was later chosen to oversee the installation of the ventilation system on the Lincoln Tunnel. Fifty-six fans performed the air-handling duties, and twenty men covered three shifts around the clock, monitoring the carbon monoxide instruments. Motorists commented that the air they breathed in the Lincoln Tunnel was far cleaner than what they breathed daily in the city.
In 1938, the year after the Lincoln Tunnel opened, Murdock’s presentation, “Ventilating the Lincoln Vehicular Tunnel” was made before the American Society of Heating and Ventilating Engineers, setting the standard for similar tunnels around the world.
By 1947, ten years after the Lincoln Tunnel opened, Murdock’s work was praised as a modern wonder. It had operated perfectly for a full decade — none of the backup systems were called into use during that time.
Though he was known principally for his work on the Holland and Lincoln Tunnels from the 1920s through the 1960s, Murdock’s skills were called upon for many other large projects. He was a consulting mechanical engineer on the addition of second tunnels to four sites on the Pennsylvania Turnpike — the Allegheny, Blue Mountain, Kittatinny, and Tascarora tunnels.
Among jobs in other states, Murdock consulted on the East River Mountain Tunnel in West Virginia; Big Walker Mountain Tunnel in Virginia; and the Baltimore Tunnel (Outer Tunnel) in Maryland. He also worked on the Riverfront & Elysian Fields Expressway in Louisiana, and Route I-695’s Connector D in Boston.
Charles Murdock remained with the Port Authority of New York for more than 25 years. The Crown Point native is linked to some of the most important engineering work of the twentieth century. He died in Volusia, Florida in 1970 at the age of 81.
Roosevelt Island: Art, Memory, and Community | Panel Discussion
Tuesday, October 8th @ 7 PM, RIVAA Gallery
Join us for a discussion in conjunction with the current photographic exhibition, Roosevelt Island: The Vision Revisited. RIVAA will bring together three distinguished panelists, who through their talent and remarkable efforts, have contributed to the beauty and quality of our built environment on Roosevelt Island.
– Amanda Matthews is a sculptor and creator of The Girl Puzzle, a tribute to groundbreaking investigative journalist Nellie Bly. Through her reporting, Nelly Bly changed how mental illness was treated in this country.
– Gina Pollara, Executive Director of the Franklin D. Roosevelt Four Freedoms Park from 2006-2013, oversaw the construction of the memorial designed by architect Louis I. Kahn to commemorate the 32nd President of the United States.
– Susan Rosenthal, President and CEO of Roosevelt Island Operating Corporation (RIOC) from 2016-2020, conceived the idea of a monument to Nelly Bly.
– Chris Vail, exhibiting photographer of Roosevelt Island: The Vision Revisited will moderate.
CREDITS
NEW YORK ALMANACK Illustrations, from above: Lincoln Tunnel under construction, 1936; Charles Watson Murdock; the three layers in the Lincoln Tunnel tube; and a Lincoln Tunnel ventilation tower in Manhattan.JUDITH BERDY
All image are copyrighted (c) Roosevelt Island Historical Society unless otherwise indicated THIS PUBLICATION FUNDED BY DISCRETIONARY FUNDS FROM CITY COUNCIL MEMBER JULIE MENIN & ROOSEVELT ISLAND OPERATING CORPORATION PUBLIC PURPOSE FUNDS.
When photographer and urban explorer Joseph Anastasio stumbled upon an abandoned passenger car sitting dormant in the Brooklyn Navy Yard, it was like an apocalyptic scene from the latest season of The Last of Us. The derelict car was a forgotten prototype from the Brooklyn-Queens Connector – commonly known as the BQX – a $2.7 billion light-rail project that never saw the light of day. Check out more of Anastasio’s photos below and find out what happened to this failed transit project Untapped New York has been following since 2016.
Photo by Joseph Anastasio
Origins of the BQX
The BQX was conceived before the DeBlasio administration. The original idea can be traced back to the late-urban planner Alex Garvin who became known for the “Ground Zero: The Rebuilding of a City.” But Christopher Torres, the former deputy director of the Friends of the BQX, credits an article written by New York Times critic Michael Kimmelman for the vision behind the BQX.
In 2014, Kimmelman published an op-ed suggesting the city return to its roots and adopt a streetcar system independent from the Metropolitan Transportation Authority (MTA). He invokes the term “desire lines” to describe emerging neighborhoods along the Brooklyn and Queens waterfront that were largely underserved by the existing subway lines. Hoping to bring Kimmelman’s idea to fruition, Friends of the BQX proposed an 11-mile streetcar line that would run along the East River From Astoria, Queens to Red Hook, Brooklyn.
Image courtesy of NYCEDC (2017)
In 2017, Friends of the BQX hosted a press conference at the Brooklyn Navy Yard. The organization unveiled a prototype of the BQX, a 46 by 9-foot passenger car designed by Alstom SM. The French rail transit designer previously worked in other major cities like Miami and Toronto. The prototype looked quite futuristic. It had a sleek exterior, open gangways, and bright red seats.
When Anastasio, author of Brooklyn Navy Yard: Beyond the Wall, found the abandoned prototype back in March, he “was surprised at how abandoned it felt: with panels falling off and quite a bit of liter inside the two cars.” It appears that the seats were removed as well. “Overall I was surprised at how narrow it was,” he continued, “The seats were laid out funny. It just felt oddly uncomfortable.” You can see before and after photos below.
By the time of the prototype unveiling, the project was beginning to hit its stride. Friends of the BQX had assembled a formidable board of directors, including representation from developers, city agencies, and business improvement districts—a who’s-who of Brooklyn and Queens power brokers. Through canvassing, cold-calling, and engagement workshops, the non-profit also gathered over fifty thousand signatures from residents supporting the project, many of whom resided in New York City Housing Authority (NYCHA) facilities.
Why the BQX Was Never Built
While the inspiration for the BQX preceded DeBlasio, the project was both a beneficiary and a victim of his administration. Before the pandemic, New York was trying to capitalize on the tech boom taking over cities like San Francisco. When Long Island City emerged as the leading candidate to host Amazon’s new headquarters, it was clear the subway was no longer sufficient, especially in the outer boroughs where young professionals were beginning to settle. In comes the BQX. The project was to be funded through deferred financing, essentially that means it would have been funded retroactively using the property taxes it would generate. This has become standard real estate practice in New York, paving the way for unprecedented real estate projects like Hudson Yards.
It’s nothing new for transit proposals to be co-opted by politicians hoping to give their constituents something tangible to rally behind. But with Governor Hochul’s controversial decision to hastily suspend congestion pricing–leading to $16.5 billion in budget cuts at the expense of subway extensions–depoliticizing public transit has never been more relevant. As a community-led project, the BQX claimed to do just that, bring ingenuity and efficiency to an antiquated transit system. “For the first time in over 100 years,” Torres said, “transit was back in the hands of the city.” The Friends of the BQX hoped to build off the success of previous grassroots organizations that mobilized public works initiatives, namely the Friends of the High Line.
But it wasn’t clear whether the BQX would fill the transit void on the Brooklyn-Queens waterfront. Opponents of the plan argued that sections of the initial route were redundant with the MTA’s existing G line. Torres rejects the notion that the project was mutually exclusive from existing subway lines however, “The BQX was part of a holistic plan, one that included bolstering the MTA.” As a result, the route was constantly being tweaked and pivoted away from residential neighborhoods like Sunset Park to more commercial markets like Downtown Brooklyn. As consulting fees mounted, the project’s $2.4 billion price tag grew. When Amazon withdrew from its Long Island City project, the $40 billion the BQX had promised to generate in tax revenue seemed suddenly out of reach. Covid’s impact on the city’s budget was the nail in the coffin.
OUR SUBWAY STATION IS GETTING A LONG NEEDED CLEANUP:
ROOF PAINTED WALLS PAINTED RED INTERIOR TRIM PAINTED OUTDOOR VENTS CHANGED OUTDOOR DRAINS CLEANED WINDOWS CLEANED- DE GRAFFITTED AND POLISHED BOOTH SCRUBBED AND VENTS CLEANED UPPER LEVEL BENCHES VARNISHED BROKEN METALWORK REMOVED LOWER LEVEL AND MORE
BROKEN METAL WORK REMOVED AND A REALLY CLEAN UPPER LEVEL. IT EVEN SMELLS CLEAN!!!
UNTAPPED NEW YORK
JUDITH BERDY
All image are copyrighted (c) Roosevelt Island Historical Society unless otherwise indicated THIS PUBLICATION FUNDED BY DISCRETIONARY FUNDS FROM CITY COUNCIL MEMBER JULIE MENIN & ROOSEVELT ISLAND OPERATING CORPORATION PUBLIC PURPOSE FUNDS.
