I learned about MudGirl Srudios from a NJPBS program featuring the studiol.
Last Tuesday after arriving on a day trip bus visit, my friend Ranyee and I ventured two blocks from the Boardwalk to find MudGIrls Studios. Located on the second floor of a church, in the space of a former school we discovered the studio.
We were met by founder Dorrie Papademetriou. She was surprised to have visitors and welcomed us warmly introducing us to the women artists at work.
(Arrangements have to be made to visit this working studio)
“MudGirls Studios is a non-profit 501(c) (3) organization that empowers disadvantaged women through training and employment. MudGirls Studios helps women transition onto a pathway towards self-sufficiency and out of poverty. We use clay as our vehicle to change lives through their own creations and sales of functional art and aesthetic utilitarian objects. These women gain a source of long-term supplemental income along the way”
Dorrie showed us finished products that are sold to retailers, custom designs, and at markets. This is the display area with the beautiful articles on view.
The windows look out on the casinos with the ocean just a few blocks away.
Clay come in large cubes, which are cut and pressed to sizes that are used to press molds into tiles and flat designs. (No potter’s wheels here)
The tiles on the table will be fired, glazed and fired again. After completed they will be a a wall installation at a New Jersey organization. Many people commission special objects for events.
These custom coasters with a tree design are commissioned for wedding gifts. Lovely gifts for the guests.
Some of the staff are professional artist, but most are women looking for a better life for them and their families.
The products range from large platters, vases to wonderful earrings.
The building’s past is visible in the hall and the former classrooms. There are move improvement and community arts groups in the area now and hopefully more will blossom soon.
A block away from MudGirls, was the Roman Forum at Caesar’s Resort. A fun trip to Atlantic City for all participants. Ranyee and I followed our tradition of off the beaten path discoveries.
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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.
IT IS OUR FIRST 4th WITHOUT THOUSANDS OF VISITORS ON THE SOUTH END OF THE ISLAND, TO SEE THE MACY’S FIREWORKS. A YEAR TO RELAX IN OUR PARKS AND GARDENS.
BRING YOUR KIDS BY ON THE 4TH FOR A SURPRISE GIFT 12N TO 5 PM THURSDAY ONLY
ALL DECKED OUT AND AWAITING YOUR VISIT
ALL DECKED OUT AND AWAITING YOUR VISIT
THANKS TO MATERIALS FOR THE ARTS FOR OUR WONDERFUL SELECTION OF BUNTING TO DECORATE THE KIOSK.
THOM HEYER AND PENNY GOLD’S IMAGINARY IMAGE OF ROOSEVELT ISLAND IS FREATURED IN THE RIVERCROSS DISPLAY WINDOW SPONSORED BY THE ROOSEVELT ISLAND HISTORICAL SOCIETY. FOR A REAL MAP, STOP AT THE VISITOR CENTER KIOSK, ALSO A WORK OF ART BY DAVID CAIN (C)
The organ is not hooked up and has not been used recently. I could not find a manufacturer on the instrument. E-mail me if your are interested: jbird134@aol.com
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JUDITH BERDY, THOM HEYER, PENNY GOLD, DAVID CAIN (C)
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When next you are in Southpoint Park, stand across from the Smallpox Hospital and look west to 434 East 52nd Street. Perched on top of this building the the pink house. I have seen it for years and only managed to take blurry photos of it! It’s current occupants remain a mystery.
Judith Berdy
Three years ago, a post popped up on Reddit that caught my attention. It contained an image (below) shot from Roosevelt Island of a pretty, candy-pink house on the roof of an East Side apartment building.
“Anyone know what this pink house on top of a building is?” the Redditor asked. I knew I had to find out.
Turns out this storybook-like, brightly colored house with two chimneys and a greenish peaked roof is the penthouse on top of 434 East 52nd Street, a prewar Bing & Bing apartment residence designed by Emery Roth that opened in 1930.
The house, which looks like it belongs on a suburban street or country lane rather than an urban canyon near Sutton Place, boasts three floors, 4,000 square feet, and wraparound terraces. All this comes from its Streeteasy listing, which says that it was on the market for $4.5 million in 2021.
As if living in your own house in the Manhattan sky wouldn’t be enough of a thrill, this penthouse was home to a famous resident. In 1974, it was the “lost weekend” residence of John Lennon and May Pang, according to various real estate and home decor sites.
Is it the same penthouse? I’m not so sure. In her book Loving John, Pang recalls the “small penthouse” with a wood-burning fireplace plus tiny kitchen, which ran Lennon $750 per month in rent. Maybe the rooftop house seemed small to a couple used to the oversized chambers of the Dakota?
According to Pang, this is where she and John spotted a UFO from their terrace—perhaps the UFO memorialized in the lyrics “There’s a UFO over New York, and I ain’t too surprised” from the song “Nobody Told Me.”
“’Look up there!’ Pang recalled John saying one August night, pointing to the sky. ‘Tell me what you see.’ I looked up and couldn’t believe my eyes. ‘There was a saucer-shaped object surrounded by blinking white lights gliding through the sky.’”
The pink house is also reportedly where photographer Bob Gruen took the iconic images of Lennon wearing a New York City T-shirt. From the view of the terrace, it really could be the same adorable home.
It’s not visible from the street, but from the river or another penthouse, it must look pretty sweet.
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I mentioned the Colossus of Coney Island once before, but it’s time to expand on that a bit. (The fact that I mentioned this building three and a half years ago and did not remember having done so until I searched for it makes me wonder if I’ve written too many blog posts.) Here’s an 1896 photograph that, while sadly lacking contrast, gives an accurate impression of how big that elephant was. The one-story building in front only goes halfway up the legs.
Note that visiting the inside was free at that time. It had been planned as a mall of sorts, housing individual store stalls and supposedly had a grand hall and museum. While it was extraordinarily large as an elephant, it was not really that big as a building, and the museum and hall spaces were small as museums and grand halls go. And since the number of windows – again, large for an elephant, small for a building – was limited by the need to have the wood structure span between the legs, it must have been a bit dark and close inside there. Here’s a cross-section
It was about twice the size of its predecessor, Lucy, in Atlantic City, with the peak of the howdah on the elephant’s back about 120 feet above grade. My personal favorite detail is that there were telescopes set into the eyes – which may be why they look a little weird in the photos – so that the head was a kind of observatory. Another not-great photo:
The Colossus opened in 1885 and, like so much of early Coney Island, burned down. The stereoscopic view may be dated 1897, but the elephant burned down in September 1896.
A Coney Island Tragedy: Burning of the Historic Elephant Cover from October 10, 1896 issue of The Illustrated American
The attractions at Coney Island and other beach resorts at that time were maybe one notch better than those of a traveling carnival and were built as cheaply as possible. A building-sized object made up entirely of plank and 2×s, and lit by gas, was pretty much inevitably going to burn.
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That’s the new folly, but I have no way to explain what that is because I have no idea. If you look at the website about the projectthere are some renderings of it, but they don’t seem to look much like that. It may be that my imagination is lacking or it may be that the design has changed since the renderings were made or it may be some of both. In the end, I just want the project done to get the sidewalks back to normal.
Nearly every day, I walk past the construction of the South Battery Park City Resiliency Project, part of protecting lower Manhattan from the kind of flooding that occurred during Hurricane Sandy. Much of it is relatively straightforward: there’s a big berm being added to the park along the river, which will be landscaped to be a useful part of the park.
Part of the park since its construction has been an odd folly, with a fake brick arch as its centerpiece, that housed a restaurant. Since the folly’s footprint crossed form an area with unchanged elevation into the berm, it had to be removed, and is being replaced with an odder folly, which will probably house a restaurant.
That’s the context for this photo:
UNLIKE COLER THIS PROJECT IS IN A PARK, CHECK OUT LINKS AND IMAGES
The South Battery Park City Resiliency Project contemplates creation of an integrated coastal flood risk management system from the Museum of Jewish Heritage, across Wagner Park and Pier A Plaza, and along the northern border of the Historic Battery.
The SBPCR Project represents one of several projects within the overall Lower Manhattan Coastal Resiliency (LMCR) Master Plan.
The purpose of the SBPCR Project is to:
• Provide a reliable coastal flood control system to provide risk reduction to property, residents and assets within the vicinity of South Battery Park City in response to the design storm event;
• Protect and preserve to the maximum extent practicable, open space resources and opportunities to view and interact with the Manhattan waterfront, particularly in Wagner Park, Pier A Plaza and The Battery; and,
• Avoid or minimize disruption to existing below and above-ground infrastructure (i.e., water and sewer infrastructure, subways, tunnels, utilities, etc.) from flood events
The SBPCR Project enhances Wagner Park’s programmatic diversity and provides an opportunity for a new waterfront marine habitat educational area along the Pier A inlet. The Pier A Inlet design converts a concrete relieving platform and rip-rap edge to a terraced condition that improves habitat opportunities.
SBPCR Project: Frequently Asked Questions (May 2023)COMMUNITY NOTICE: SOUTH BATTERY PARK CITY RESILIENCY PROJECTThe South Battery Park City Resiliency Project contemplates creation of an integrated coastal flood risk management system from the Museum of Jewish Heritage, across Wagner Park and Pier A Plaza, and along the northern border of the Historic Battery.The SBPCR Project represents one of several projects within the overall Lower Manhattan Coastal Resiliency (LMCR) Master Plan.The purpose of the SBPCR Project is to:• Provide a reliable coastal flood control system to provide risk reduction to property, residents and assets within the vicinity of South Battery Park City in response to the design storm event;• Protect and preserve to the maximum extent practicable, open space resources and opportunities to view and interact with the Manhattan waterfront, particularly in Wagner Park, Pier A Plaza and The Battery; and,• Avoid or minimize disruption to existing below and above-ground infrastructure (i.e., water and sewer infrastructure, subways, tunnels, utilities, etc.) from flood eventsThe SBPCR Project enhances Wagner Park’s programmatic diversity and provides an opportunity for a new waterfront marine habitat educational area along the Pier A inlet. The Pier A Inlet design converts a concrete relieving platform and rip-rap edge to a terraced condition that improves habitat opportunities.
FROM WALT WHITMAN’S LEAVES OF GRASS THE SHAPES ARISE
HOME NEEDED FOR NON FUNCTIONING ORGAN IN CHAPEL. IF YOU HAVE A SUGGESTION FOR A NEW HOME, CONTACT JBIRD134@AOL.COM
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OLD STRUCTURES ENGINEERING DON FRIEDMAN POETRY BY WALT WHITMAN YIMBY
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JUDITH BERDY ROOSEVELT ISLAND HISTORICAL SOCIETY
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The Kingdom of Italy was proclaimed on March 17, 1861, although linguistic and economic characteristics differed from one region to another. When in that same year statesman Massimo d’Azeglio published his memoirs, he began his narrative with a warning: “Pur troppo s’è fatta l’Italia, ma non si fanno gl’Italiani” (Unfortunately, Italy was created, but Italians are not being created).
The country might have become a political entity, but its population was far from cohesive. Not rooted in ancestry, national identity was a political and socio-cultural construction.
In 1911, Italians celebrated the fiftieth anniversary of unification (Cinquantenario). Marked by expositions in Turin, Florence and Rome, the festivities aimed at showing the world that a vigorous young nation was ready to join the Great Powers of Europe. The jubilee aspired to embrace modernity by challenging stereotypes of backwardness and indolence.
At the same time, organizers paid tribute to seventeenth century architecture. Baroque was presented as the peninsula’s first genuine national style and therefore proof of a cultural sense of self that anticipated political unity.
Tension between Italy’s fragmented past and its centralized present was a feature of identity formation. Food traditions were part of a troublesome process that was further complicated by the input of Italian-Americans.
Belly of Naples
Soon after Christopher Columbus completed his first voyage to the Americas, crops were taken to the port of Seville and presented to the Royal Iberian gardens. Seeds of maize, marigold and chili peppers attracted the interest of European scholars – and so did the tomato. Spanish colonizers reported that the Aztecs cultivated the fruit in a variety of sizes, shapes and colors.
The Kingdom of Naples was a vital part of the Spanish global Empire which spanned from South and Central America to the Philippines. Many Neapolitans served on ships sailing under Portuguese and Spanish flags. It did not take long for the tomato to reach its local gardens. Tomatoes or “pomi d’oro” (golden apples) were studied by botanists in the 1540s.
Naples in the late seventeenth century was one of Europe’s most populous cities (with three million inhabitants in 1600) and a center of architecture, art and music pulling visitors from far and wide. Mount Vesuvius added a thrill to those who had traveled to see the city.
The quality of its cuisine was another attraction. The San Marzano tomato came to symbolize local cooking and the Mediterranean diet. Campania’s potassium-rich volcanic soil was perfect for the fruit’s cultivation.
Antonio Latini was a self-made man who had started his career in the household of Cardinal Antonio Barberini in Rome, before settling in Naples in 1682 to become steward to Don Stefano Carillo Salcedo, first minister to the Spanish Viceroy. In this role he was responsible for the management of all staff, provisions, meals and entertainments.
In 1692/4 he published a cookbook in two volumes entitled Lo scalco alla moderna (The Modern Steward). It was the last great book of Italian Renaissance and Baroque cuisine, a flamboyant tradition that had dominated elite European dining. The French style of cooking was beginning to emerge.
At the same time Latini looked forward. With a keen interest in local ingredients, he closely inspected the region and listed specialties such as oil, olives, vegetables and fruits. He was the first author to publish recipes using tomatoes and chili peppers. The American tomato was about to conquer Naples.
Following unification, Naples lost its leading position and suffered serious economic decline. Street vendors began selling pizzas in the poorest parts of the city. As Matilde Serao observed in Il ventre di Napoli (The Belly of Naples, written in the aftermath of the cholera epidemic of September 1884) large sections of the population lived on the street.
They survived on flatbread, fritters of cabbage stalk, fragments of anchovy, or boiled chestnuts. Street fare was the only way of procuring a meal.
One of the earliest accounts of “lazzaroni” (poor people) consuming pizza was recorded by French novelist Alexandre Dumas during a visit to Naples in 1835. Street vendors baked pies in wood-fired ovens and kept them warm in tin “stoves” which they balanced on their head.
Judgmental Italians treated the pie with disgust. Carlo Collodi, son of a Florentine chef and author of Pinocchio, referred to it as a “patchwork of greasy filth.” Pizza was associated with poverty, malnutrition and disease.
Cooking & Politics
Lombardy-born chef and author Bartolomeo Scappi made his career at the Vatican. In 1570, he published his monumental Opera dell’arte del cucinare, listing about 1,000 recipes of Renaissance cuisine which included a “pizza alla Napoletana,” described as a baked dessert pie stuffed with almond custard.
Three centuries later the same dish featured in a cookbook that has been hailed as an iconic contribution to culinary history.
Published in Florence in 1891, Pellegrino Artusi’s La scienza in cucina e l’arte di mangiare bene (Science in the Kitchen and the Art of Eating Well) was the first attempt at creating a comprehensive Italian cookbook.
Unable to find a publisher, he printed the first 1,000 copies at his own expense. The original volume contained 475 recipes which had grown to 790 by the fourteenth edition (published in 1911, the year of the author’s death). Since then the book has never been out of print.
Recipe 609 in the collection is a “pizza alla Napoletana,” presented as a shortcrust filled with a cream of ricotta, almonds and lemon peel (Artusi included two more “pizze,” both of them desserts).
Living in Florence, Pellegrino was a prosperous silk merchant with literary ambitions and a passion for food. A taste traveler, he had enjoyed all Tuscan delicacies, macaroni in Naples, saltimbocca in Rome and risotto in Milan.
Recreating these dishes at home, supported by his assistants Marietta Sabatini and Francesco Ruffilli, he transcribed them in the form of recipes. Artusi was a gourmet, not a chef. A noted host and raconteur, his flowing narrative is a mixture of directions interspersed with anecdotes and asides. But his book was more than just an entertaining manual.
The author had been a member of Giuseppe Mazzini’s “La Giovine Italia” (Young Italy). He would have been aware of Giuseppe Garibaldi’s statement that the force of macaroni would unite Italy as it reflected the rich variety of its culture.
Artusi’s cookbook was a political document. He argued that presenting gastronomic delights in a common language would benefit unification. An inclusive society embraces regional practices and values difference. Sharing a table bridges cultural divides. Food is a unifier.
Not only did Artusi turn against the ingrained Italian habit of speaking in dialect, he also attacked the French dominated terminology of “haute cuisine.”
When lexicographer Alfredo Panzini published his Dizionario moderno delle parole che non si trovano nei dizionari comuni (A Modern Dictionary of Words Not Found in Ordinary Dictionaries’) in 1905, he praised the author for his determination to create a vocabulary free of Gallicisms. Artusi became the nation’s food ambassador.
In 1889, at the Pizzeria Brandi in Naples, Raffaele Esposito was said to have baked a pie with a topping of basil, mozzarella and tomato representing the nation’s flag. He named his creation “pizza Margherita” in honor of Margherita of Savoy, wife of King Umberto I. The story was an invention.
Pizza as we know it today did not exist at the time. Its “modern” definition first appeared in an Italian dictionary in 1905.
Naples to Manhattan
Thomas Jefferson served as US Minister to France from 1785 to 1789 and during his stay he developed a passion for Mediterranean cuisine. He studied farming techniques, researched cooking utensils, and had his own chef trained in the French culinary arts.
In 1787 he wrote a short treatise on the delight of Neapolitan pasta and produced a sketch of a “maccaroni” (a generic term for pasta) machine, a version of which he later shipped back to Monticello.
Once installed as President, he served such delicacies as ice cream or peach flambé to his dinner guests, but also surprised them with a plate of macaroni and cheese at a time that the American diet was dominated by heavy English-style boiled, baked or stewed meats. It would take several decades before Italian food became embedded in American culture.
During the late nineteenth century, peasants and the urban poor in the Italian South suffered severe hardship and food insecurity. They survived on stale bread and soup. Wholesome food was mainly memory.
Italians left in droves, arriving in America through Ellis Island. In spite of long hours of hard labor and living in squalid quarters, families were able to afford flour, eggs and meat. Olive oil, pasta and cheese were imported from Italy itself or via the Italian diaspora in Argentina.
The stereotypical Italian-American red sauce cuisine was a fusion of ‘rich’ ingredients (cheese, meat and fish) and tomatoes, whilst retaining the simplicity that characterized Neapolitan or Sicilian meals.
Until the 1960s few Italian-American cookbooks were published as recipes were passed down orally. Neapolitans had come to work in factories, not to make culinary statements.
Gennaro Lombardi arrived in New York from Naples in 1897 and started a small grocery story in Manhattan’s Little Italy. Located at 32 Spring Street, he began selling slices of Neapolitan “tomato pies” wrapped in paper to local laborers.
In 1905 he was licensed by the New York City government to make and sell pizzas. Named Lombardi’s, the business thrived. Tenor Enrico Caruso, himself born and raised in Naples, was a client.
Adapting to new conditions, New York-style pies were baked in coal rather than wood-fired ovens. The hand-tossed thin crust was topped with tomato sauce and mozzarella cheese. Neapolitan poor man’s pie made an appeal as it corresponded to the American pace of life. It became New York’s fast food icon.
Always keen to identify a starting point in time, historians have nominated Lombardi as pizza’s “Founding Father.” Inevitably, the suggestion has been challenged. The idea that in the midst of an influx of immigrants there would be a single pioneer is unlikely.
Pizza slices were produced before Lombardi had settled in Manhattan. Filippo Milone was an immigrant who had arrived in New York in the early 1890s and he apparently ran a successful pizza business in the city. There would have been others.
Pizza Effect
Artusi’s personal bias was towards the cooking of Emilia-Romagna and Tuscany. Other regions were represented with few dishes, whilst some parts such as Marche, Abruzzo, Puglia, Basilicata or Calabria are not mentioned at all. These omissions highlight the limitations of our notion of a “national cuisine.”
Dishes such as German “sauerkraut,” Hungarian “goulash” or Ukrainian “borshch” have become a means of ethnic identification, both positively and negatively. The Racial Slur Database lists hundreds of insults based on what people eat.
Once the economic concept of World Fairs had taken root, nations created pavilions to present themselves to the outside world. Authenticity was staged; tradition invented; cooking standardized. Tourism contributed to the process of simplification. National cuisine became a stereotype.
The pizza boom started after the Second World War. Most new outlets were owned by independent operators of various nationalities. The simple Neapolitan pie was turned into a New York, Chicago or Detroit-style pizza with mozzarella, tomatoes and a variety of “gourmet” toppings. The pizza habit spread quickly to workers on their lunch hour and families looking for an affordable meal out.
The American pizza-scape changed with the proliferation of chains. Pizza Hut made a successful start in Kansas in 1958 and was followed in rapid succession by a range of others (Little Caesar’s in 1959 and Domino’s in 1960, both in Michigan). Pizza became a commodity and a lesson. By sharing slices, its consumption promotes cooperation. As a metaphor, pizza has entered the domain of politics and enterprise.
The “Pizza Meter” is a theory that postulates that an uptick in takeaway orders in Washington, DC, signals international conflict. The delivery record of Domino’s pizzas at the CIA offices occurred on August 1, 1990, the day before Iraq invaded Kuwait.
The rush may have inspired Jeff Bezos when, four years later, he founded Amazon from his garage in Bellevue, Washington. To achieve maximum efficiency, he divided the company into groupings and introduced the “Two Pizza Rule,” stipulating that every internal team should be small enough to subsist on two pizzas.
Such was its popular impact that Yankee pizzas invaded Europe. Pizza may have been invented in Naples as cheap food consumed by the poor, it remained unknown outside the region until migrants arrived in Manhattan.
After the Second World War many Italian-Americans traveled to Europe to reconnect with their ancestors and make a pilgrimage to the “home” of pizza. In Naples, they were served their familiar Americanized versions.
In a globalized world, cultures tend to influence each other in a loop. Elements of a national or regional culture are embraced elsewhere, transformed, and then re-exported to their domain of origin. Sociologists have named this phenomenon the “Pizza Effect.”
Celebrating 35 years serving our community weekly with fresh fruits, vegetables, other goodies and great friendly service!!! Congrats to Israel, his family and crew.
Illustrations, from above: Garibaldi departing on the Expedition of the Thousand in 1860; Sprig of a tomato plant from an album of medicinal plants, Rome ca 1610 (Royal Collection Trust); Third corrected edition of Artusi’s La scienza in cucina; Pizza alla napoletana (dessert) according to Pellegrino Artusi; 1989 commemorative plaque in Naples marking the 100th anniversary of pizza Margherita; Thomas Jefferson description and sketch of a macaroni machine (Library of Congress); and Pizza Hut opens its 11,000th international restaurant in Dubai in 2019.
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.
Our work with old buildings has us studying a lot of different topics in addition to structural engineering – for example, architecture, history, and historic preservation – and we like sharing stories about what we’ve found. OLD STRUCTURES ENGINEERING
The central dome of the US Capitol on May 9, 1861:
There was a certain symbolism to its incomplete state given that the Civil War had begun the previous month, but that was a coincidence. The replacement of the original wooden dome had been planned for some time. The old dome was too small, architecturally, having been sized for the building before the wings were added, and was a fire hazard in an era where “artificial light” meant “flame.”
The new dome took ten years to build from start to finish, in part because of the war but largely because of logistical and design issues. In any case, it’s interesting to me that common descriptions consistently describe the structure incorrectly. The description at the Architect of the Capitol’s website, for example, call is “cast iron” twice and “iron” twice. Similarly, the Wikipedia page calls it “cast iron” four times, despite having an original drawing that makes it clear why that’s only partially correct:
[This post was edited after posting, with the edits marked in square barckets. My thanks tio the reader who pointed out my error.]The dome consists of a cast-iron skin largely supported by a series of wrought-iron trusses. [Edit, 5 hours after posting: the trusses are a combination of cast and wrought iron, with the wrought iron used where tension was expected.] The cast skin contributes to the structural action but is not the main load-carrying element. So why are the trusses ignored? First, visible architectural elements are easier to understand than hidden structure. Second, as I’ve learned the hard way, non-engineers really don’t understand trusses and are sometimes freaked out by them. Third, there’s a common narrative in architectural history that cast-iron construction in the US was a stepping stone to steel frames, which really isn’t true (cast-iron facades are a form of bearing wall, not rigid frame, and I know of no building where the cast iron supports the structure without the help of masonry or wrought iron) and is a twentieth-century retcon of the technological development. In any case, feel free to put on a superior expression and say “actually, it’s a cast-iron skin over [Edit: combination cast- and] wrought-iron trusses” if you hear someone call it a cast-iron dome.___As for my title, the cast-iron foundry was in the Bronx. I don’t remember offhand where the wrought iron was rolled and fabricated.
I was at Coler with head nurse Melana to celebrate the Beacon Award for great care in the Memory Units at the hospital!!!
CREDITS DON FRIEDMAN OLD STRUCTURES ENGINEERING LIBRARY OF CONGRESS
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.
Our work with old buildings has us studying a lot of different topics in addition to structural engineering – for example, architecture, history, and historic preservation – and we like sharing stories about what we’ve found. OLD STRUCTURES ENGINEERING
From Angelo Rizzuto, a view of the Brooklyn Bridge from June 1954. It was not taken from Woolworth, as the angle is slightly wrong.
The bridge was in a transition period, with one major renovation just completed and another about to start. Between 1950 and 1954, the bridge underwent it’s most extreme changes: the BMT elevated and trolley tracks were removed, the roadway expanded from two lanes each way (one shared with the trolleys) to three by using the elevated lanes for cars, the mid-width trusses that separated the elevated lanes from the traffic removed, and the formerly low outer trusses raised to the height of the inner trusses. This picture was taken a month after the end of that work, with the pedestrian walkway (center of the deck) reopened. The big space at the end of the bridge isn’t a plaza, it’s where the elevated station had been.
Note how close the bridge deck is to the neighboring buildings on both sides. That wouldn’t last: the next project was the – in my opinion, incredibly ill-advised – construction of ramps to connect the bridge to the highway along the East River. Because of the change in elevation, the buildings abutting the bridge on both sides, including the domed World Building on the right, were demolished so the ramps could double back on themselves in plan. This simultaneously encouraged people to drive into and through lower Manhattan and deprived the bridge of part of its original context.
Finally, note that little triangular island, with a subway entrance, at the end of the bridge. While not in the direct path of traffic, thanks to the ghost of the elevated station, it shows that traffic engineers were not yet in control.
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 ART DECO MAGIC OF BLOOMINGDALE’S LEXINGTON AVENUE STORE SIGN
WEDNESDAY, JUNE 19, 2024 ISSUE # 1256
EPHEMERAL NEWYORK
Like many of Manhattan’s legendary department stores, Bloomingdale’s developed in stages.
First came Lyman and Joseph Bloomingdale’s “Ladies’ Notions Shop” on Chambers Street, where they sold the trendiest garment of the 1860s: the hoop skirt.
In 1886, the Bloomingdale Brothers moved their store, renamed the “East Side Emporium,” to the hinterlands of Manhattan at Lexington Avenue and 59th Street.
“The store expanded steadily and by the 1920’s, Bloomingdale’s converted an entire city block,” states Bloomingdale’s website.
The block-long store that was put together piecemeal underwent an Art Deco makeover in 1930. A movie-marquee awning, metal decals along the facade, and geometric shapes above the main entrance decorate the store’s Lexington Avenue side.
What captures my eye is the Art Deco-style lettering on Bloomingdale’s facade and the entrance awning. I’m not enough of a typeface expert to know if it has a name.
But the san serif, all-caps lettering is a unique reminder of the magic of Art Deco—and that this beloved midcentury design style dominating many of Manhattan’s skyscraper districts can be found hidden away in unusual places: subway entrances, nameplates on building doors, and the lettering above store entrances.
PS 217 SANITATION SQUAD.
ARMED WITH TRASH BAGS AND GRABBERS STUDENTS ATTACKED TRASH ON MAIN STREET A PROGRAM FUNDED BY THE NY SANITATION DEPARTMENT
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.
