It turns out the the biggest bird will be hovering over Central Park this summer, bringing joy and happiness to the roof of the Metropolitan Museum.
I Wonder if “Happy Days” will be sung there this summer!!!!
Image and text courtesy of 6sqft
The Met’s latest rooftop installation features a swaying Big Bird overlooking Central Park
Installation view, The Roof Garden Commission, Alex Da Corte “As Long as the Sun Lasts,” 2021. Courtesy of The Metropolitan Museum of Art, photo by Anna Marie Kellen
A 26-foot-tall moving sculpture featuring the Sesame Street character Big Bird has been installed atop the Metropolitan Museum of Art as part of the museum’s annual Roof Garden Commission series. Created by Philadelphia-based artist Alex Da Corte, As Long as the Sun Lasts exhibition includes a blue-feathered Big Bird sitting on a floating crescent moon and holding a ladder, gazing out at Central Park and the massive towers that dot the skyline. The exhibition will open at the Iris and B. Gerald Cantor Roof Garden on April 16 and be on view through October 31.
installation view, The Roof Garden Commission, Alex Da Corte, “As Long as the Sun Lasts” (detail), 2021. Courtesy The Metropolitan Museum of Art, photo by Hyla Skopitz
The installation has a red base with three interlocking steel pieces and a mobile component that rotates along with the breeze, a design inspired by the artist Alexander Calder, known for his kinetic sculptures. Big Bird sits suspended at the top of the sculpture and has about 7,000 individually placed laser-cut aluminum feathers.
Making Big Bird blue instead of his familiar yellow is a nod from Da Corte (who lived in Venezuela as a child) to the Brazilian version of Sesame Street, which had a blue-colored bird character named Garibaldo. It also reflects the character’s “melancholic disposition” expressed in the work, according to the museum.
Installation view, The Roof Garden Commission, Alex Da Corte, As Long as the Sun Lasts (detail) 2021 Courtesy The Metropolitan Museum of Art, photo Anna-Marie Kellen
“The installation, which the artist initiated just as the pandemic was taking hold, invites us to look through a familiar, popular, modern lens at our own condition in a transformed emotional landscape,” Max Hollein, the Marina Kellen French Director of The Met, said in a press release.
“As the sculpture gently rotates in the wind, it calls us in an assuring way to pause and reflect: We are reminded that stability is an illusion, but ultimately what we see is a statement of belief in the potential of transformation.”
The exhibition is free with admission to the museum. Advance online reservations are required. Learn more here.
This is one of the Mc Donald’s original designed shops
Ed Litcher, Alexis Villefane, Jay Jacobson, Gloria Herman, Nina Lublin all had their burgers here!!!
EDITORIAL
I just saw this image of Big Bird and decided this is just what NYC needs now, artistic whimsy!!!
Can just visualize birders in Central Park trying to discuss the ornithological species of Big Bird!
UPCOMING PROGRAMS FROM
THE NYPL & RIHS ON ZOOM
Tuesday, April 20 “Mansions and Munificence: the Gilded Age on Fifth Avenue” Guide, lecturer, author and teacher of art and architecture, Emma Guest-Consales leads a virtual tour of the great mansions of Fifth Avenue. Starting with the ex-home of Henry Clay Frick that now houses the Frick Collection, all the way up to the former home of Andrew Carnegie, now the Cooper-Hewitt Museum, she takes us through some of the most extravagant urban palaces the city has ever seen. REGISTER WITH THIS LINK: https://www.nypl.org/events/programs/2021/04/20/mansions-and-munificence-gilded-age-fifth-avenue
Tuesday, May 18 “Saving America’s Cities” Author and Harvard History Professor Lizabeth Cohen provides an eye-opening look at her award-winning book’s subtitle: Ed Logue and the Struggle to Renew Urban America in the Suburban Age. Tracing Logue’s career from the development of Roosevelt Island in the ‘70s, to the redevelopment of New Haven in the ‘50s, Boston in the’60s and the South Bronx from 1978–85, she focuses on Logue’s vision to revitalize post-war cities, the rise of the Urban Development Corporation, and the world of city planning
Text by Judith Berdy Thanks to Bobbie Slonevsky for her dedication to Blackwell’s Almanac and the RIHS Thanks to Deborah Dorff for maintaining our website Edited by Melanie Colter and Deborah Dorff
All image are copyrighted (c) Roosevelt Island Historical Society unless otherwise indicated
6sqft RIHS ARCHIVES
FUNDING PROVIDED BY ROOSEVELT ISLAND OPERATING CORPORATION PUBLIC PURPOSE GRANTS CITY COUNCIL REPRESENTATIVE BEN KALLOS DISCRETIONARY FUNDING THRU DYCD
You are surely aware of the great Ketchup Packet Shortage. Of course you are. Well, the Who, What, When, Where, and Why of this crisis became a riveting mystery for me to track. After all, our Roosevelt Island Historical Society Almanac readers are a pretty savvy bunch. So I jumped in. And then, as these things happen, one Google step led to another. So come with me on my trek to the empire of condiment packets.
The What is pretty clear. Ketchup packets from take-out food have gone missing – particularly Heinz ketchup. (Full disclosure, I come from Pittsburgh where Heinz is headquartered and as a youth visited the Heinz plant on several school outings) The toney Brit newspaper, the Guardian, recently devoted serious space to this situation. They called it an American Tragedy. “It’s an American tragedy that takes place in under a minute. You eagerly open the warm takeout bag in your hands, the smell of french fries wafting through its package. Everything seems to be there until you dig around the bottom of the bag. Nothing but napkins. Where’s the ketchup?”
Who? Everyone. When? Now. Where? Apparently everywhere. (Not quite. I understand Mickie D. doesn’t use packets of condiments. Big squirty jugs instead.)
Who? Everyone. When? Now. Where? Apparently everywhere. (Not quite. I understand Mickie D. doesn’t use packets of condiments. Big squirty jugs instead.)
Why? The answer seems to be the increase in demand for the little packets, created, most likely, by the Covid-fueled gusto for take-outs. Again according to the Guardian, now citing the Wall Street Journal: “The uptick in ketchup demand has had an influence on the price of packets, which have increased 13% since January 2020, according to the Wall Street Journal.” The Journal tells us that “Long John Silver’s…said that the price increase of ketchup has cost the company an extra half-million dollars.” I told you this was serious stuff.
FoxNews has followed the story, too, and reports that Heinz Ketchup packets are being scalped on eBay. Fox says that listings vary in quantity, but one lot of 50 ketchup packets recently sold for $9.99. Another listing for 100 packets sold for $11.99. Another listing for 500 ketchup packets sold for $28.95 (with free shipping). Some scamps will stop at nothing.
The fast food resto business is getting sharper. The editor of a fast food trade mag laid down the law, telling owners that they “must run a much more efficient operation. You must run a tight ship, and you cannot get by being loosey-goosey and freewheeling with your condiment packets.” No loosey-goosey with your condiment packets. That tells it like it is.
This was just the beginning of my remarkable tour. Diligent researchers on the Tedium website dug down deeply into the roots and meaning of the story. Their findings:
The first Heinz ketchup packet didn’t come about until 1968, getting beat to the market by soy sauce packets, which came about roughly a decade earlier. Note: Keep this in mind. We will return to soy in a few paragraphs. I think I still have some of the earliest packets – from 1970 or so – in my pantry. Never know when you might need them.
According to Marketplace, food companies are very particular about the size of their ketchup packets. Despite the fact that they generally can be made in larger sizes, the market has settled on nine-gram packets, despite the fact that nine grams is clearly not enough since we use like six of them in a single serving. This seems deeply suspicious. Note to self: Follow the money.
Heinz sells a lot of these packets every single year—according to the company, that’s around 11 billion or so every 365 days, or two for every person on the planet. At nine grams each, that’s about 109,000 tons of ketchup. Heinz uses more tomatoes than any other company in the world. That’s some tomatoes. Particularly since until the mid-19th century, people were still wobbly about eating tomatoes, fearing it was related to the deadly nightshade. (Others felt/feared tomatoes were an aphrodisiac.)
Heinz’s website says that “Every tomato in every bottle of HEINZ Ketchup sold in the U.S. is grown in America by passionate people (might this refer back to tomatoes as aphrodisiacs?) dedicated to growing high-quality, non-GMO tomatoes, many who have farmed with us for generations.” Apparently, Heinz has developed its own specialized strains of tomatoes for its ketchup. The website continues “Each step in the tomato-growing process is monitored by HEINZ Tomato Masters: seven of the world’s foremost experts on ketchup tomatoes, who keep HEINZ tomatoes at the highest standard of quality – because the ketchup on your table is only as good as the tomato it comes from.” Love the idea of seven Tomato Masters. Not six. Not eight. And passionate.
\Now, another question leapt up. How in the world did soy sauce packets beat ketchup packets into the market? Surely the demand for ketchup must exceed the demand for soy sauce. The trail led to a serious article in another high class mag, The Atlantic, “The Mysterious, Murky Story Behind Soy-Sauce Packets”.
Things get a bit complicated here. Soy sauce packets track back to Howard Epstein (not that Epstein), who, as the founder of the dominant soy-sauce brand Kari-Out, is seen as the ambassador of packaged American soy sauce. Epstein became interested in food packaging because his father manufactured the flimsy plastic packaging for freezer pops. Epstein’s first venture into his father’s trade was a popcorn-packaging business, which he bought for $5,000 over 50 years ago. That didn’t work out and at 81 Epstein was looking for a change when one of his father’s salesmen, who sold tea bags, suggested he consider the soy-sauce-packaging business. In 1964, Epstein founded Kari-Out, and he says he arrived to the industry right as it was becoming commercially viable. He ran his new business out of the popcorn factory he owned. (As a fellow 81er, I am lost in admiration for a guy who starts a new business and changes the world.)
Going wasn’t easy. Epstein says that an old Jewish guy trying to break into the Chinese food business was tough. But his freezer-pop expertise gave him an edge. His break came in with affordable air travel, which went mainstream in the 1970s. To serve the newly airborne hordes of families and businessmen, airlines began offering prepared foods onboard. Epstein found his first major foothold as the primary provider of soy sauce for these in-flight meals. The Atlantic piece continues, “Cheap airfare also allowed Epstein to travel the country in search of new customers. He was scouting at a time when Chinese takeout joints were becoming as commonplace as nail salons and convenience stores in strip malls around the country.” He soon built up a widespread network of customers, and Kari-Out’s products appeared in the Chinese restaurants across the country. Now, he estimates that Kari-Out has a 50 percent market share. The company’s soy-sauce packets remain ubiquitous—Epstein recalls finding Kari-Out packets at a concession stand in rural Iceland a couple years ago. “We’ve survived 50 years,” Epstein says. “I never get sick of Chinese food or soy sauce.”
But the story doesn’t end here. Take a deep breath. A food and drink article on Thrillist followed up The Atlantic article. They learned that what we get in soy sauce packets isn’t really soy sauce. “Rather than soybeans, most are made with ‘hydrolyzed vegetable protein,’ which — while it could be processed from soybeans — is too ambiguous of a term to know for certain. Legitimate soy sauce (Kikkoman and other Asian brands) usually lists soybeans as the second or third ingredient. The packets also usually contain caramel coloring, molasses, and MSG, none of which are present in the real stuff either.” And on top of this, the wasabi we eat in sushi bars and take out is probably not real wasabi, but rather colored mustard and horseradish. All the news isn’t bad: Heinz has said they are planning to increase their ketchup output by 25%. The life of an investigative reporter isn’t easy. It’s Sunday morning and I think I will take the rest of the day off, perhaps order some take-out. Good eating. Stephen Blank RIHS April 11, 2021
UPCOMING NYPL AND RIHS ZOOM PROGRAMS
Tuesday, April 20, 7 p.m. “Mansions and Munificence: the Gilded Age on Fifth Avenue”
REGISTER WITH THIS LINK: https://www.nypl.org/events/programs/2021/04/20/mansions-and-munificence-gilded-age-fifth-avenue
Guide, lecturer, author and teacher of art and architecture, Emma Guest-Consales leads a virtual tour of the great mansions of Fifth Avenue. Starting with the ex-home of Henry Clay Frick that now houses the Frick Collection, all the way up to the former home of Andrew Carnegie, now the Cooper-Hewitt Museum, she takes us through some of the most extravagant urban palaces the city has ever seen.
UNDER THE GEORGE WASHINGTON BRIDGE ED LITCHER, ARLENE BESSENOFF, CLARA BELLA, HARA REISER, GUY LUDWIG, JAY JACOBSON, GLORIA HERMAN ALL GOT IT RIGHY
Text by Judith Berdy Thanks to Bobbie Slonevsky for her dedication to Blackwell’s Almanac and the RIHS Thanks to Deborah Dorff for maintaining our website Edited by Melanie Colter and Deborah Dorff All image are copyrighted (c)
All image are copyrighted (c) Roosevelt Island Historical Society unless otherwise indicated
FUNDING PROVIDED BY ROOSEVELT ISLAND OPERATING CORPORATION PUBLIC PURPOSE GRANTS CITY COUNCIL REPRESENTATIVE BEN KALLOS DISCRETIONARY FUNDING THRU DYCD
Our landmark lighthouse will soon be restored and a replication of the original top will be installed. Architect Thomas Fenniman has designed a restored version of the structure that will stabilize and restore the structure. Fenniman has had vast restoration experience including the RIHS Visitor Center Kiosk, Chapel Narthrax, Chapel Roof all on the Island.
Th original Lighthouse Park from Metropolitan Hospital
Current lighthouse and design for newly restored structure
THE DESCRIPTION OF THE LANDMARK LIGHTHOUSE
NYC LANDMARKS PRESERVATION COMMISSION
This small Lighthouse stands at the northern tip of Roosevelt Island on a projection of land which was at one time a separate island connected to the main land by a wooden bridge. Local legend maintains that during the 19th century a patient from the nearby Lunatic Asylum was permitted to build a stone fort on this outcropping as he feared an invasion by the British. When plans were formulated to build the Lighthouse, this patient was allegedly persuaded to surrender the fort only after much cajoling and a bribe of bogus money. The tale continues that the patient himself demolished the fort and built the new Lighthouse, carving the inscription:
Lighthouse inscription:
This is the work Was done by John McCarthy Who built the Light House from he bottom to the Top All ye who do pass by may Pray for his soul when he dies.
While construction of the Lighthouse cannot actually be credited to the diligent Mr. McCarthy, the warden of the Lunatic Asylum did specifically mention in his annual report of 1870 an “industrious but eccentric” patient who had built near the Asylum a large section of seawall, thereby reclaiming a sizable piece of land. The warden further remarked that this patient “is very assiduous, and seems proud of his work, and he has reason to be, for it is a fine structure, strong and well built.” Whether or not this patient was the model for the legend of the fort and Lighthouse builder, a connection of the Lighthouse and the Lunatic Asylum is a historical fact. In May 1872, City official resolved to “effectually light” the Asylum and the tip of the island. The following September, the Lighthouse was completed , with lamps furnished by the U.S. Lighthouse Service. The stone structure was built under the direction of the Board of Governors of the Commission of Charities and Correction, the body which administered the numerous City institutions on the island., At that time. The supervising architect for this Commission was James Renwick, Jr.
James Renwick, Jr. (1818-1895), was son of a highly regarded professor at Columbia College. He began his notable career in 1836 as an engineer supervising the construction of the great Distributing Reservoir at 42nd Street for the Croton water supply system. In 1840, his drawings were selected in a competition for the design of Grace Church, which, at that time, was New York’s wealthiest and most fashionable congregation. Renwick, only twenty-five and entirely self-trained as an architect, achieved instant recognition. During his long and highly successful career he designed many important buildings, including the Smithsonian Institution in Washington, DC, the Main building at Vassar College in Poughkeepsie, the William E. Dodge Villa (now Greyston Conference Center) and St. Patrick’s Cathedral-both designated landmarks, as is Grace Church. As an art collector and yachtsman, Renwick’s association with the Charities and Corrections Board, in all likelihood, had philanthropic motivations. He designed the Workhouse, City Hospital and Smallpox Hospital on Blackwell’s Island (as Roosevelt Island was then known); the Inebriate and Lunatic Asylum on Ward’s Island; and the main building of the Children’s Hospital on Randall’s Island. He also designed several smaller structures, among them, the Lighthouse on Roosevelt Island.
The Lighthouse is approximately fifty feet tall and is constructed of rock-faced, random gray ashlar. The stone (gray gneiss) was quarried on the island itself, predominately by convict labor from the Penitentiary on the island, and was used for many of the institutional buildings erected there. The Lighthouse is encircled by a small yard paved with flagstone. An entry walk at the south is flanked by stone bollards which have pyramidal tops carved with simple trefoils. The Lighthouse is octagonal in plan and vertically organized according to the tripartite division of the classical column-base, shaft and capital. The base is separated from the superstructure by a series of simple moldings which are interrupted to the south side by a projecting gable above the single entrance doorway. This doorway, which an incised pointed arch above a splayed keystone with flanking corbels, is designed in a rustic version of the Gothic style. The stepped stones of the Lighthouse are pierced above the doorway by two slit windows which light the interior staircase. The top of the shaft is adorned with Gothic foliate ornamentation in high relief, separated by simple moldings from the brackets which support the observation platform. These elements form the crowning feature of the Lighthouse. The octagonal lantern, originally surmounted by a picturesque conical roof is of glass and steel. It is surrounded by a simple metal railing.
The rock-faced stone and the sparing uses of boldly scaled ornamental detail give the Lighthouse the strength and character of a medieval fortification. In its isolated setting, the Lighthouse is a prominent and dramatic feature of Roosevelt Island.
Metropolitan Hospital Nursing Students relax at the Lighthouse Park
The stairway inside the Lighthouse. Original lamp in position, now removed
UPCOMING NYPL AND RIHS ZOOM PROGRAMS
Tuesday, April 20, 7 p.m. “Mansions and Munificence: the Gilded Age on Fifth Avenue”
REGISTER WITH THIS LINK: https://www.nypl.org/events/programs/2021/04/20/mansions-and-munificence-gilded-age-fifth-avenue
Guide, lecturer, author and teacher of art and architecture, Emma Guest-Consales leads a virtual tour of the great mansions of Fifth Avenue. Starting with the ex-home of Henry Clay Frick that now houses the Frick Collection, all the way up to the former home of Andrew Carnegie, now the Cooper-Hewitt Museum, she takes us through some of the most extravagant urban palaces the city has ever seen.
SOLDIERS AND SAILORS MONUMENT JAY JACOBSON, ANDY SPARBERG, SUSAN RODETIS, M. FRANK, VERN HARWOOD ALL GOT IT!
IT IS NEVER TOO LATE TO JOIN THE RIHS.
YOUR MEMBERSHIP SUPPORTS ALL OUR ACTIVITIES JOIN TODAY AND SHOP THE KIOSK WITH A 10% DISCOUNT ON ALL PURCHASES. JOIN ON-LINE AT RIHS.US OR MAIL IN THIS FORM.
Text by Judith Berdy Thanks to Bobbie Slonevsky for her dedication to Blackwell’s Almanac and the RIHS Thanks to Deborah Dorff for maintaining our website Edited by Melanie Colter and Deborah Dorff
All image are copyrighted (c) Roosevelt Island Historical Society unless otherwise indicated
RIHS (C) FUNDING PROVIDED BY ROOSEVELT ISLAND OPERATING CORPORATION PUBLIC PURPOSE GRANTS CITY COUNCIL REPRESENTATIVE BEN KALLOS DISCRETIONARY FUNDING THRU DYCD
Charles M. Schwab’s Riverside House was, according to The New York Times “The most pretentious house” in New York — photo The Library of Congress
When the doors of the gargantuan Charles M. Schwab mansion named Riverside House were opened in 1947 for the sale of the interior fittings, among the 100 viewers was S. Archer Gibson. The elderly man was not there to buy bronze hardware or stained glass windows. He was reminiscing. In the soaring two-story chapel area of the French Renaissance chateau Gibson touched the cabinet of the grand pipe organ he once played as Charles Schwab’s private organist. The impressive instrument had been enlarged by the millionaire at Gibson’s request in 1904 at a cost of $21,500 and again in 1911 for $23,457.50 more.
The days when the fabulously wealthy installed pipe organs into their homes and hired private organists – Gibson earned $10,000 per year – were over. And the days of Schwab’s extraordinary mansion were over as well.
Steel tycoon Charles M. Schwab had no intentions to built just any house in 1901. His would be the largest and most expensive. And he intended that it would vastly outshine the mansions rising on Fifth Avenue along Central Park.
Schwab had started out in the steel business as a teenage laborer in a Carnegie steel mill and was by now one of the wealthiest men in the country; the head of United States Steel.
Among the Fifth Avenue houses, only Andrew Carnegie’s mansion rising at 91st Street and 5th Avenue had a vast garden and fenced yard. The free-standing home was unique in its luxurious setting. Along Riverside Drive, however, millionaires were opting for free-standing residences surrounded by lawns. This is what Schwab had in mind when he spent $865,000 for the full block on Riverside Drive in 1901, extending to West End Avenue, between 73rd and 74th Street. It was the most ever spent on a building lot to date. The magnate commissioned architect Maurice Hebert to design a French Renaissance chateau that would impress. Hebert did exactly that. The 75-room limestone mansion was a marriage of elements from three French chateaux: Blois, Azay-le-Rideau and Chenonceau. Surrounded by lush lawns and formal gardens it diminished the homes of Vanderbilts and Rockefellers. Andrew Carnegie, in seeing the massive edifice rising is said to have commented, “Have you seen that place of Charlie’s? It makes mine look like a shack.” The tycoon spent $3 million on the structure and several million more for the furnishings and antiques. It was a four-story palace with a 166-foot tower that offered panoramic views.
To supply the vast amount of stone to build it, a quarry was opened in Peekskill, New York.
According to Robert Hessen in his “Steel Titan: The Life of Charles M. Schwab,” “Schwab had a passion for owning the biggest and the best – homes, or automobiles, or private railroad cars.” Riverside House would exemplify that passion.
The sheer size of the mansion staggered the editors of Harper’s Weekly who admitted that it “may strike the average observer as a burdensome possession, oppressive to maintain, and likely to be embarrassing to heirs, but if Mr. Schwab can stand it, we can.”
The New York Times, on the other hand, cooed. “In architectural design, richness of decoration, and completeness of details this structure is calculated to surpass in luxury and magnificence any city home in America, if not the entire world.”
More than 100 artists, designers, modelers, engineers and architects were engaged in the construction. Hebert personally supervised the work of artisans at the William Baumgarten & Co. creating reproduction tapestries for the house – several of which were exhibited at the St. Louis World’s Fair before being installed in the house. Ceilings and walls were decorated by artists like Albert Mantelet, Arthur Thomas and Jose Villegas.
Rooms were executed in various periods; the dining room in Louis XIV, the library in Henri II (a copy of the library in Fontainblue), the parlor in Louis XVI (copied from the Petite Trianon), the main hall in Francis I and so on.
“Nothing will enter into the construction of the new dwelling,” reported The Times, “that has not been made specially to order…So-called stock material, no matter how good it may be, will be ignored.”
Interior pillars were made of elaborately carved marble, paneling was South American mahogany, The chapel, where the custom-made organ was installed, doubled as a music room and was large enough to seat a full orchestra. A natatorium in the basement featured a glazed-brick pool 20 by 30 feet under an arched glass roof. There was a bowling alley and 50-foot gymnasium on this level as well.
The art gallery was filled with $1.5 million in artworks. There were six elevators, a self-contained power plant and, to Mr. Schwab’s great satisfaction, the 1906 version of air conditioning. Years later he would brag, “When I built it, it was the most modern house in the United States…this was thirty years ago, yet it had an air-cooling system in it.”
The master bedroom was 20 feet square and the adjoining bath had a five-foot square shower stall. There were a four-car garage, a receiving lodge for incoming goods, and a service tunnel beneath the sculptured gardens.
While other millionaires entered their mansions through expensive and impressive wooden double doors, Schwab went a step further. “Of particular note will be the massive bronze doors on the west side of the house at the main entrance,” said The Times. “While these doors will not be as large as those on the Capitol at Washington, each of them will weigh from a ton to a ton and a half. There will also be another set of bronze doors on the north side of the building leading to Seventy-fourth Street.
Schwab’s wife, Eurana, had protested against moving so far northward, fearing she would never see her Fifth Avenue friends again. After a period, despite her Fifth Avenue friends visiting regularly, Rana Schwab stopped accepting social invitations – even those to the White House – out of embarrassment of her physical condition. The food-loving Rana became severely overweight. She stayed in Riverside House, catered to by her 20 servants–chief among them George Stone the butler. Nevertheless, in 1917 as World War I raged in Europe, she dedicated two rooms of the first floor for the use of Red Cross volunteers who knitted sweaters, socks and bandages for soldiers in France.
In 1921 S. Archer Gibson was recorded playing the Schwab organ, creating what would be among the earliest organ recordings. Later, in 1932, Schwab agreed to allow the National Broadcasting Company to broadcast a series of Wednesday night organ concerts played by Gibson.
The couple lived in luxurious comfort in Riverside House until Schwab’s fortunes were wiped out by the Great Depression. The massive mansion changed almost overnight from a palace to a hulking white elephant. Unable to pay the taxes Schwab tried futilely to sell the property for $4 million. He moved into a small apartment on Park Avenue in 1939 where he died nearly penniless later that year.
The mansion sat ghostly and vacant for years. Mayor Fiorello La Guardia rejected the idea of using the house as the mayoral mansion, feeling it was far too grandiose. It was the last hope for the hulking and sumptuous Schwab house. After sitting empty for a decade, the land was purchased as the site of an apartment building. The sale of the interior fittings which organist S. Archer Gibson attended was the last time visitors would stare in awe at the painted ceilings, the carved grand staircase and the marble columns.
The wrecking company informed the press a few days later that the great pipe organ in the chapel was too large to remove. It would be smashed with the rest of the house. At the eleventh hour, however, Eric Sexton of New Canaan, Connecticut purchased the instrument, disassembled it and installed part of it in his home in Camden, Maine.
In place of Schwab’s French Renaissance chateau sits The Schwab House — photo cityrealty.com
In place of Charles M. Schwab’s magnificent French chateau now stands an uninspired red brick building with a name dripping with irony: “The Schwab House.” To read more about Charles Schwab, his life and career check out Wikipedia; https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Charles_M._Schwab
RIHS AWARDED GRANTS FROM POMEROY FOUNDATION
Pomeroy Fund Awards $50,000 to 14 NYS History Organizations to Support Capital Needs
TROY, N.Y. – The Pomeroy Fund for NYS History, a partnership between the William G. Pomeroy Foundation and Museum Association of New York (MANY), awarded an additional $50,000 to 14 history-related organizations to assist with urgent capital needs projects.
In this highly competitive fourth round of urgent funding, 167 museums and historical societies submitted applications to support projects such as window replacements, new HVAC systems, technology upgrades, roof repairs, and accessibility for people who use wheelchairs.
”This was an overwhelming response from history organizations, which underscores the incredible need that remains across New York State,” said Deryn Pomeroy, Director for Strategic Initiatives at the Pomeroy Foundation. “Capital improvements are essential to help these important organizations reopen and stay open.”
“This round helped us see the vast challenges New York’s museums face in the wake of deferred maintenance, limited municipal investment in cultural properties, and the deep financial setbacks incurred through pandemic related revenue reductions,” said Erika Sanger, MANY Executive Director.
Roosevelt Island Historical Society will purchase a printer, scanner, and computer to continue to reach and engage its audience with a daily publication, From the Archives, and virtual programs
UPCOMING NYPL AND RIHS ZOOM PROGRAMS
Tuesday, April 20 “Mansions and Munificence: the Gilded Age on Fifth Avenue” Guide, lecturer, author and teacher of art and architecture, Emma Guest-Consales leads a virtual tour of the great mansions of Fifth Avenue. Starting with the ex-home of Henry Clay Frick that now houses the Frick Collection, all the way up to the former home of Andrew Carnegie, now the Cooper-Hewitt Museum, she takes us through some of the most extravagant urban palaces the city has ever seen.
Tuesday, May 18 “Saving America’s Cities” Author and Harvard History Professor Lizabeth Cohen provides an eye-opening look at her award-winning book’s subtitle: Ed Logue and the Struggle to Renew Urban America in the Suburban Age. Tracing Logue’s career from the development of Roosevelt Island in the ‘70s, to the redevelopment of New Haven in the ‘50s, Boston in the’60s and the South Bronx from 1978–85, she focuses on Logue’s vision to revitalize post-war cities, the rise of the Urban Development Corporation, and the world of city planning
JOIN THE KIOSK STAFF
Mature person needed for paid work in RIHS Visitor Center kiosk. Must have good knowledge of the island and history. Flexible days of work for up to 5-6 hours a day, usually 1 or 2 days a week. Must be outgoing and personable and able to deal with busy days. References requested. Please send one page resume to rooseveltislandhistory@gmail.com.
MOMA ENTRANCE ALEXIS VILLEFANE, LAURA HUSSEY AND OLYA TURCHIN ALL GOT IT RIGHT!
Text by Judith Berdy Thanks to Bobbie Slonevsky for her dedication to Blackwell’s Almanac and the RIHS Thanks to Deborah Dorff for maintaining our website Edited by Melanie Colter and Deborah Dorff
Sources
DAYTONIAN IN MANHATTAN
All image are copyrighted (c) Roosevelt Island Historical Society unless otherwise indicated PHOTOS BY JUDITH BERDY / RIHS (C)
FUNDING PROVIDED BY ROOSEVELT ISLAND OPERATING CORPORATION PUBLIC PURPOSE GRANTS CITY COUNCIL REPRESENTATIVE BEN KALLOS DISCRETIONARY FUNDING THRU DYCD
Photo by Ida Jervis; Alma Thomas papers, Archives of American Art, Smithsonian Institution
The Eclypse, 1970 Acrylic on Canvas
Alma Thomas is a singular figure in the story of twentieth-century American art. She developed her exuberant form of abstract painting late in life, after retiring from a long career as a schoolteacher. Blossoming in the mid-1960s, her vibrant, rhythmic art transcended established genres, incorporating elements of gestural abstraction and color field painting. She created a style distinctly her own, characterized by the dazzling interplay of pattern and hue. At a deeply politicized moment in American life, Thomas’s abiding sources of inspiration were nature, the cosmos, and music. “Through color,” she stated, “I have sought to concentrate on beauty and happiness, rather than on man’s inhumanity to man.”
Thomas’s art first entered the Smithsonian American Art Museum’s collection in 1970. The museum acquired more than a dozen works during the artist’s lifetime and, upon her death, received thirteen canvases by bequest.
Composing Color: Paintings by Alma Thomas draws on these extensive holdings to offer an intimate view of Thomas’s evolving practice during her most prolific period, 1959 to 1978. New research into her materials and techniques show how Thomas continued to innovate until the end of her life, at times changing her methods to adapt to her declining physical ability due to arthritis. As the luminous works in the exhibition reveal, Thomas’s astounding creative drive and mastery of color remained constant through her final years.
After the exhibition closes at SAAM, it will travel to several venues across the United States.
Red Abstraction, 1959 Oil on Canvas
Alma Woodsey Thomas
1891–1978
Thomas was born in Columbus, Georgia, the oldest of four girls. In 1907, her family moved to Washington, D.C., seeking relief from the racial violence in the South. Though segregated, the nation’s capital still offered more opportunities for African Americans than most cities in those years.
As a girl, Thomas dreamed of being an architect and building bridges, but there were few women architects a century ago. Instead, she attended Howard University, becoming its first fine arts graduate in 1924. In 1924, Thomas began a 35 year career teaching art at a D.C. junior high school. She was devoted to her students and organized art clubs, lectures, and student exhibitions for them. Teaching allowed her to support herself while pursuing her own painting part-time.
Thomas’s early art was realistic, though her Howard professor James V. Herring and peer Loïs Mailou Jones challenged her to experiment with abstraction. When she retired from teaching and was able to concentrate on art full-time, Thomas finally developed her signature style.
She debuted her abstract work in an exhibition at Howard 1966, at the age of 75. Thomas’ abstractions have been compared with Byzantine mosaics, the Pointillist technique of Georges Seurat, and the paintings of the Washington Color School, yet her work is quite distinctive.
Thomas became an important role model for women, African Americans, and older artists. She was the first African American woman to have a solo exhibition at New York’s Whitney Museum of American Art, and she exhibited her paintings at the White House three times. Artist Details
Light Blue Nursey, 1968, Acrylic on Canvas
Snoopy Sees the Earth Wrapped in Sunset ,1970 Acrylic on Canvas
Snoopy Earth Sun Display on Earth, 1970 Acrylic on Canvas
Red Sunset Old Pond Concerto 1972 Acrylic on Canvas
Aquatic Gardens, 1973 Acrylic on Canvas
Wind and Crepe Myrtle Concerto 1973 Acrylic on Canvas
INTERIOR OF THE OCTAGON IN 1970 Alexis Villefand, Arlene Bessenoff, Gloria Herman and Jay Jacobson got it right
Text by Judith Berdy Thanks to Bobbie Slonevsky for her dedication to Blackwell’s Almanac and the RIHS Thanks to Deborah Dorff for maintaining our website Edited by Melanie Colter and Deborah Dorff
Sources:
SMITHSONIAN AMERICAN ART MUSEUM National Museum of Women in the Arts
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In 1756 the population of New York City numbered 10,530. There were about 2,000 buildings, nearly all of them below what is now City Hall Park. By now Native Americans were essentially gone (a letter from the city that year mentioned “There are very few Indians on this island, all being either cut off by intestine wars or diseases.”), and parts of the upper portions of Manhattan were becoming cultivated into farmland. Before long luxurious summer estates of the city’s wealthy merchants and British officers would begin dotting the upper reaches. Until now the growing city did not have, nor need, a dedicated jail building. Law breakers were housed in the old City Hall. But the arrangement was quickly growing insufficient. According to “The Old Martyrs’ Prison” written in 1902, “the City was growing in wickedness as it grew in population, and it was decided to erect a New Gaol on the northeastern corner of the Common (or ‘The Fields,’ as it was then called), adjoining the High Road to Boston.” The Fields was the center of public activity in mid-18th century New York. It remains today, somewhat altered, as City Hall Park. The new jail would be erected off the northeast corner of the common; a site north of the hubbub of business and residences, but prominent to assemblies in The Field. The jail was completed either in 1756 or 1758; a square stone building about 60 by 75 feet and three stories tall. The basement, which would be more appropriately termed a dungeon today, was a series of great brick arches, nine feet tall with walls two feet thick. Heavy doors connected the dungeon spaces.
The handsome Georgian structure above ground was built of rough-cut stone. A cupola surmounting the roof contained a bell used to give alarms of fire. The location of the fire would be indicated at night by a lantern suspended from a pole in the direction of the fire. Costing $12,000, it was New York City’s first jail built expressly for that purpose. “The Old Martyrs’ Prison” noted “It was an imposing edifice in its day, and, standing as it did the most conspicuous object to the traveler as he entered the town by the old Boston High Road, was a powerful admonition to all comers to lead a sober, righteous and upright life—and to pay their debts.” In 1759 an act was passed that removed all remaining prisoners from City Hall to the new jail. The Fields was soon a visible object lesson in righteous living. The Poor-House sat near the New Goal, approximately where City Hall now stands, had been erected in 1735 and in 1764 the whipping post, pillory, cage and stocks were transferred from Wall Street to an area in front of the jail. That year the jail received a surprising prisoner. Major Rogers of His Majesty’s Army was a prominent figure in town and lived far beyond his means. Finally, in January, his frustrated creditors had him arrested. Rogers’ companions demanded his release, feeling his imprisonment was an insult to the Royal Army and a threat to the military authority. The jailor rebuffed them. The soldiers descended on the jail, breaking into the doors with axes and muskets and releasing their Major. The other prisoners had the chance to escape; but decided it best to remain in their cells. The ensuing riot was finally squashed by the militia, but not before one of the British Sergeants was killed. Among the prisoners here were those who failed to made good on their debts. By the American colonial legal system, based on the British Statute of Merchants of 1285, creditors could simply report a debtor to the sheriff who would arrest the offender and toss him into the jail. Since the prisoners had no money, they were unable to pay their bail and relied on the charity of friends to bail them out. Prisoners with a view of the common watched the events of a growing revolution unfold. The Sons of Liberty erected, time and again, a Liberty Pole; only to have it pulled down by the British. King’s College student Alexander Hamilton began drilling his artillery company on the green.
The New-York Tribune would later describe conditions in the building. “There was no settled allowance in this jail for the prisoners, nor had they bedding. The Humane Society…and donations from friends and the public were all they could rely on.” Some diarists noted that inmates would dangle a bag or old shoe out the window from a pole hoping to a charitable passerby would drop a coin in.
By 1775 the New Goal was no longer sufficient for the rapidly growing city. That year the Bridewell was built—a prison that lined up with the jail and the Poor-House along the northern fringe of the common. Now the New Goal was used exclusively for debtors, earning its new name, The Debtors’ Prison.
Within the year the Debtors’ Prison would receive another, chilling, name: The Provost Prison. On August 27, 1776 the British took possession of the city. They found the Debtors’ Prison and the Bridewell sitting empty. Provost Marshall William Cunningham clearly remembered the humiliation he had received the year before at the foot of the Liberty Pole and he was out for revenge.
Cunningham took command of the Debtors’ Prison, reserving it for rebels and military personnel. “The Old Martyrs’ Prison” said “He was a corrupt, hard-hearted and cruel tyrant, who hesitated at nothing that would add to the miseries of his helpless victims or to his own wealth and comfort. His hatred for the Americans found vent in the application of torture with searing-irons and secret scourges to those of his charges who, for any reason, fell under the ban of his displeasure.”
A contemporary account added “The cruelty practiced toward the inmates of the Provost rivals all that may be found in the annals of Christendom. Not content with seeing them die a slow death from cold and starvation, he poisoned many by mingling a preparation of arsenic with their food, and is said to have boasted that he had thus killed more of the rebels with his own hand than had been slain by all the King’s forces in America.” Among those incarcerated here was Ethan Allen. In May, 1778 he was traded for Colonel Campbell of the British Army.
After the war the building returned to use as a debtors’ prison. But slowly reform tempered the practice of imprisoning debtors. The futility of the action was more and more obvious. The New-York Tribune pointed out that “The consequence was that the last condition of the man was far worse than the first. His family, unable to obtain money except by begging, which was also severely punished, were either driven to starvation or to greater depths of debt.” In 1817 a law was enacted that prohibited incarceration for anyone whose debts were less than $25. Finally in 1830 debtors’ prisons were essentially outlawed and a committee of the Common Council chose the old jail to house the public records. About $15,000 was spent in remodeling and refitting the structure, partly to make it look less jail-like. The floors and windows were changed, the cupola and Georgian roof were removed and the building was lengthened at each end about seventeen feet by the addition of a portico and steps. The handsome 18th century structure was now a Greek Revival temple—said to resemble the Doric Temple of Diana at Ephesus, one of the Seven Wonders of the World.
Remodeling stopped in 1832 when the city was overtaken by the cholera epidemic. Residents fled northward to outlying villages and businesses were paralyzed. Work on the old jail was suspended and it was temporarily used as a hospital. In the second half of the century the Tweed administration spent another $140,000 to remodel the structure—now a century old. An architecturally-incongruous story was added above the entablature and pediments, and interior was enlarged by moving the front and back walls outward, so that the free-standing columns were now engaged, almost like pilasters.
As the turn of the century approached, pedestrians navigate around construction debris — photo NYPL Collection
As the 20th century crept closer, the New Gaol, turned Debtors’ Prison, turned Provost Prison, turned Hall of Records was endangered. In 1894 Thomas A. Janvier wrote in his “In Old New York,” “That the remaining tenant has made exceedingly bad use of his exclusive property is patent to the eyes and nose of whoever ventures within its dirty precincts; nor will such adventurer question the tradition of the office that within it are recorded all the bad smells which have been known on this island from the earliest Dutch times…Fortunately this defilement of the interior of the Hall of Records has not affected its exterior, which essentially is unchanged since Recorder Riker took possession of his new quarters sixty years ago.” Few, however, shared Janvier’s appreciation of vintage architecture. The new Hall of Records was in the course of construction in 1897 and the outdated building was termed by most an “eyesore.” The National Historical Museum lobbied Mayor Strong to preserve the structure. In December 1897 the Board of Aldermen voted to place it, when vacated, in the care of the Museum to be used as a public museum of historic relics.
Subway construction threatens the old building. — from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York
The American Scenic and Historic Preservation Society disagreed, protesting “The old revolutionary prison is a unique landmark. There is not another building with a like history in the United States. It is a monument to the patriotism and devotion of a generation of heroes, the benefits of whose sufferings and sacrifices we enjoy; and gratitude and pride alike dictate that in some form and in some place these historic stones should be preserved.”
The preservation of the “historic stones,” however, was not to be. Instead what The Sun called a “hideous example of the brown stone age, the old Hall of Records,” was demolished in 1903. The newspaper reported that “the axe and crowbar laid bare the cells in its cellar where Ethan Allen and other leaders of the Revolutionary forces were held in durance vile.”
Old City Hall (far left) sat across from the Debtors’ Prison — photo by Alice Lum
JOIN THE KIOSK STAFF
Mature person needed for paid work in RIHS Visitor Center kiosk. Must have good knowledge of the island and history. Flexible days of work for up to 5-6 hours a day, usually 1 or 2 days a week. Must be outgoing and personable and able to deal with busy days. References requested. Please send one page resume to rooseveltislandhistory@gmail.com.
CHAPEL OF THE GOOD SHEPHERD STAINED GLASS WINDOW ED LITCHER, NINA LUBLIN, ALEXIS VILLEFANE GOT IT
Text by Judith Berdy Thanks to Bobbie Slonevsky for her dedication to Blackwell’s Almanac and the RIHS Thanks to Deborah Dorff for maintaining our website Edited by Melanie Colter and Deborah Dorff
Sources A DAYTONIAN IN MANHATTAN
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It was lunch hour for the staff at Goldwater Hospital. In 1963 there was no employees cafeteria, so the staff would take a quick bus ride to he dining room in the Central Nurses Residence for their meals. On this day, the story is that the bus driver suffered an attack and the bus went off the road down the 25 foot embankment into the the east channel of the East River.
As you study the photos, note there were no guard rails and the roadway was just feet from the embankment.
Of the 11 persons on board, 7 were killed. The victims were said to have been employees of the physical therapy department.
APWIRE PHOTO
RIHS Archives
Staff of Goldwater watch scene from terraces.
Mayor Robert Wagner visiting the scene.
Scuba divers on the scene
The bus lowered onto an Army Corps of Engineers tug.
THURSDAY PHOTO OF THE DAY NEW YORK AQUARIUM AT CONEY ISLAND
ALEXIS VILLEFANE, VERN HARWOOD, ARLENE BESSENOFF, GLORIA HERMAN, ARON EISENPREISS, JAY JACOBSON, NINA LUBLIN, LISA FERNANDEZ ALL GOT IT RIGHT
EDITORIAL
I do not remember the bus tragedy at Goldwater. It was three years later that I set foot on the island. There were no amenities here in the 1960’s, just Goldwater, Coler, the nurses residence and lots of abandoned buildings.
Many people came and photographed the isolated Welfare Island and its emptiness.
Text by Judith Berdy Thanks to Bobbie Slonevsky for her dedication to Blackwell’s Almanac and the RIHS Thanks to Deborah Dorff for maintaining our website Edited by Melanie Colter and Deborah Dorff
RIHS ARCHIVES NEW YORK TIMES ASSOCIATED PRESS UNITED PRESS INTERNATIONAL
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In 2011, the nonprofit Gotham Whale recorded just five humpbacks spotted off New York City. Since then, the number has soared. By 2018, sightings had jumped to 272. Less than a year later, 377 whales of different species were observed. Whale watching was a growing business in waters around NYC “B.C.” and hopefully will be soon again soon.
A recent Discover Magazine article cites two main factors that drive the increasing presence of whales. First, the water conditions in the NYC bay area are improving. Twenty years ago, the waters around New York City were some of the most polluted in the world—a toxic stew of chemicals and garbage. Thanks to successful environmental policies, whales are back in the Big Apple. According to NYC’s “State of the Harbor” 2012 report, the water is the cleanest it has been in over a decade. Secondly, there’s a lot more food for humpback whales around. Menhaden, tiny silver fish consumed by humans mostly as fish oil pills, are a primary food source for humpback whales. When the allowed Atlantic catch was drastically cut back in 2012, their number increased quickly. Since then, researchers say, 300 million more of these fish are inhabiting the Atlantic Coast. Yum.
This isn’t the first time whales enjoyed our waters.
When first settlers arrived, they found a garden of delights. Mark Kurlansky, in The Big Oyster, writes “The harbor was crowded with bass, cod, weakfish, herring, mackerel, blackfish, as well as frolicking, diving mammals – whales, porpoises, and seals.” And, similarly, the authors of Mannahatta tell us that New York “was acclaimed by early settlers for its biological diversity and fertility: home to bears, wolves, songbirds, and salamanders, with clear, clean waters jumping with fish, and porpoises and whales in the harbor.”
It was said that in early colonial times, there were so many large critters in the harbor that you could walk from Manhattan to New Jersey on their backs, without wetting your feet.
Whaling was not unknown. Basques from France and Spain had captured whales at sea for centuries – even, it seems, off the coast of Newfoundland long before Europeans created colonies in North America. Native Americans caught whales as well but in shallow waters off the coast. They were known as “drift whales” and European new-comers joined with Native Americans in this practice.
Hudson NY, Whale Oil Industry https://hvmag.com/life-style/history/hudson-valley-whaling-industry-a-history-of-claverack-landing-hudson-ny/
When we think of whaling in American history, we think of New England’s ports, whalers on Cape Cod Bay established a thriving shore fishery in Wellfleet – and this industry would grow to be world famous. But the first organized effort by colonists to hunt drift whales actually took place in Southampton, Long Island, in March 1644. Over the next 30 years this developed into shore-whaling operations, where small boats were launched when whales were sighted offshore. By 1672 the colonists and their Native American neighbors were working together to hunt whales along the coast from small sailing vessels.
By the early 18th century, this phase of the whaling industry had passed. Fewer whales were found close to shore, so whalers turned to larger boats to take them farther off the coast for the hunt. This meant When we think of whaling in American history, we think of New England’s ports. Whalers on Cape Cod much more capital was required to build and man larger ships, taking a much long time at sea. Whaling became a much more specialized industry. Nantucket flourished, but in the early 19th century, several communities on the south shore of Long Island and, perhaps more surprising, along the Hudson River also became major whaling ports. The most famous were Sag Harbor and Hudson.
Sag Harbor became one of the largest whaling ports in the country. Its whaling industry built on the Southampton drift-whale and shore-whaling trades. In 1785 business partners Benjamin Huntting and Stephen Howell sent two ships down to the coast of Brazil that returned with about 350 barrels of oil each. It wasn’t much – just a few years later ships would be coming home with 2,000 or even 2,500 barrels – but it was enough. Sag Harbor was on her way and for the next 50 years, enjoyed good times, or “greasy luck” as the whalemen would say. Whales were plentiful and there was no reason to even leave the Atlantic.
The official seal of Hudson, New York, featured here on a silver half dollar commemorating the city’s sesquicentennial. Credit: The Red Book, whitman.com.
Hudson became an important whaling center because several Nantucketers searched for a harbor that would be safe from British intrusions. Two prosperous Nantucket-born Quaker brothers named Seth and Thomas Jenkins, decided to seek promising dockage farther west, off the coast, and began exploring likely sites along the Hudson River: first in Manhattan, then in Poughkeepsie. In 1783, they found the site of present-day Hudson, then known as Claverack Landing and, incorporating as the Nantucket Navigators, created a deep water port, too far inland for hit-and-run tactics by British gunboats. Thirty whaling families from Nantucket, Providence, Martha’s Vineyard and Newport soon joined the Jenkinses, calling themselves the Proprietors.
Within two years there were enough settlers from the seacoast to incorporate as a city, only the third within New York State, and rename it after the river’s Dutch discoverer. Their early experiment in urban planning succeeded so well that the Proprietors proceeded to lay out all the land between the bays in an even, logical grid of streets, with forethought as to where all the trades ancillary to shipping would best be located.
Soon, European visitors described Hudson as a cosmopolitan, thriving commercial city. It had 2,500 residents by 1790, 4,000 by 1800. And whaling was definitely the driving force. In 1797, a ship called the American Hero brought back the largest cargo of sperm whale oil in American history. The British again blockaded US shipping traffic during the War of 1812, causing a downturn in the American whaling industry that put the Proprietors’ pioneering firm out of business. But the City of Hudson had developed its own economic momentum by then, no longer dependent upon a single industry. And whaling was revived by a newly formed Hudson Whaling Company beginning in 1829.
Other Hudson River ports followed. The price of oil soared in 1830, and the Newburgh Whaling Company and the Poughkeepsie Whaling Company were established in 1832. The Cape Cod whaling industry continued to thrive, but the Hudson River industry collapsed in the next decade. The Poughkeepsie, Dutchess and Hudson Whaling Companies all sent their last ships to sea in the 1840s. But the Great Seal of the City of Hudson sports an image of a whale to this very day..
Sag Harbor’s last whaler, the brig Myra, sailed in 1871. She would never return, being condemned in Barbados in 1874, too leaky and worn to safely to return. With her demise, Sag Harbor’s whaling industry came to an end. Her wharves slowly went to rot. The boat shops and cooperages and oil yards closed. Her streets grew quiet, no longer teeming with hardy, boisterous sailors. It was, as one local resident wrote in 1872, “Dozeville.” One last factoid: A former whaler, Captain William Freeman, bought a dumpy building in 1876, built a porch, installed a bar and dining room, and named it The American Hotel or “The American House.”
We hope the return of the whales to New York will not be just a spring break visit, and that they will remain our neighbors. Of course there are issues. For one, whales have some competition for their favorite food: Commercial fishing operations along the eastern seaboard are targeting menhaden on an industrial scale, turning the fish into animal feed and human supplements. In addition, New York City is the busiest port on the eastern seaboard, with as many as 20 or more ships lining up to drop anchor and unload their cargo at any given time. This means collisions with whales—sometimes fatal—do happen. Twenty-eight fatal collisions have occurred in New York and New Jersey since 2016. Still, so far, so good. Whales are back!
Your grandmother’s kitchenware on exhibit at Bloomingdale’s Housewares Department
Text by Judith Berdy Thanks to Bobbie Slonevsky for her dedication to Blackwell’s Almanac and the RIHS Thanks to Deborah Dorff for maintaining our website Edited by Melanie Colter and Deborah Dorff
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Reclining Liberty by Zaq Landsberg, Marcus Garvey Park
Spring is a great time to be out and about in New York City seeing public art. It’s not too cold, it’s not too hot, it’s usually just right. There is an abundance of new public art on display this month, from up in the Bronx, where an eagerly awaited exhibition by Yayoi Kusama will be featured at New York Botanical Garden, to Prospect Heights, Brooklyn where a meditative sound installation bellows among blossoming cherry trees. You could promenade through the city taking in culture and art without ever being inside. Check out the new and ongoing public art on display and plan to make a day of fresh air art experiences.
Reclining Liberty by artist Zaq Landsberg is set to premiere, after much delay, in Morningside Park on April 26. The slightly weary-looking Lady Liberty, posed on her side, head propped up by her hand seems to be waiting, like most of us, for better days that surely are coming.
The sculpture is composed mostly of plaster resin and coated with oxidized copper paint to mimic the copper patina of the real Statue of Liberty. The artist, in explaining his draw to monuments states, “They are literally where the political and the aesthetic meet.” You can visit the public art statue at the base of the stairs at 120th Street and Manhattan Avenue in Harlem.
Ruth Bader Ginsburg statue at City Point in downtown Brooklyn. Photo by Bob Krasner
Artists Gillie and Marc created this bronze statue of late U.S. Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg to commemorate her in the struggle for gender equality and human rights. The statue, located in downtown Brooklyn is one of ten statues of notable women installed in NYC by the artists to increase the representation of women in public sculpture from 3 to 10% . The double-step base represents the Supreme Court and the climb she made to get there.
Narcissus Garden by Yayoi Kusama Photo Courtesy of New York Botanical Garden
The long-delayed garden exhibition KUSAMA: Cosmic Nature will open at New York Botanical Garden on April 10th. The exhibition will be a comprehensive survey of the Japanese artist Yayoi Kusama lifelong obsession with the natural world. KUSAMA: Cosmic Nature will include programs, a publication, and exhibits both in the gardens and within the surrounding buildings of the 250-acre landscape.
Giant Pin Cushion art installation incorporated into the Garment District Alliance kiosk district created with colorful botanical materials by Floratorium artists. Photo courtesy of Garment District Alliance
The enormous bronze needle and button public art sculpture you may have seen on 7th Ave next to the garment district info kiosk has a companion for the summer titled Pin Cushion. The giant floral arrangement has transformed the Garment District Alliance kiosk into a delightful place to stop, look and get information about the district.
Pin Cushion was created by Patricia Gonzalez and Carlos Franqui of Floratorium and is made up of 50+ bales of curly willow, nine wisteria bales, and hundreds of faux hydrangeas, poppies, greenery, and butterflies. New Yorkers are encouraged to stop by and visit the exhibit through the summer.
The Flag Project at Rockefeller Center features 83 winning photographs produced as flags. Photo courtesy of courtesy of Tishman Speyer
The Flag Project 2021 is a public art installation celebrating the medium of photography with 83 winning submissions produced as flags flown on the iconic flagpoles of Rockefeller Center. The public art installation also features guest photographers, invited by Aperture, who have helped define New York in photographs, including Kwame Brathwaite, Renee Cox, Elliott Erwitt, Duane Michals, Ryan McGinley, Susan Meiselas, Nan Goldin, and Tyler Mitchell.
The 2021 Flag Project installation will showcase the diversity, energy, endurance and imagination of NYC with photographs of, for or inspired by the city’s faces, objects and textures. The Flag Project is on display through April 30.
Jamal Shabazz with his photograph in the Aperture Lightbox installation in Rockefeller Center. photo courtesy courtesy of Tishman Speyer.
Aperture and Rockefeller Center present an outdoor exhibition of New York City street and subway photographs by Jamel Shabazz, who is known for his authentic and spontaneous depictions of NYC life. Jamel’s career began in 1980 and spans forty years. Fourteen of Shabazz’s portraits will be displayed in the heart of the city, installed on seven-foot-tall lightboxes across Rockefeller Center’s public plazas. From youth culture to a wide range of social conditions, Shabazz’s street photographs are an endearing and truthful depiction of his subjects from the 1980s to the present. You can see them in the Rockefeller public plazas alongside the Flag Project installation.
A sweeping survey of KAW’S career from his roots as a graffiti artist to a dominating force in contemporary art, KAWS: WHAT PARTYhighlights five overarching tenets in the artist’s practice. You will be immersed in the art of KAWS through the various sections of the exhibition at the Brooklyn Museum.
Renowned for his pop culture-inspired characters in paintings and sculpture and playful use of abstraction with meticulous execution, the show covers drawings, paintings, bronze sculptures, objects and monumental wooden sculptures of his well known COMPANION character. Museum visitors can digitally interact with the art through AR (augmented reality) app on their smartphones. The exhibition is on view through September 5, 2021.
HALL OF FAME OF GREAT AMERICANS BRONX COMMUNITY COLLEGE, FORMERLY NYU UPTOWN JAY JACOBSON, M. FRANK, ANDY SPARBERG, T. VISEE, WILLA KLEIN ALL GOT IT RGHT!!
Text by Judith Berdy Thanks to Bobbie Slonevsky for her dedication to Blackwell’s Almanac and the RIHS Thanks to Deborah Dorff for maintaining our website Edited by Deborah Dorff All image are copyrighted (c)
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UNTAPPED NEW YORK
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He started as an architect and was caught in political corruption scandal, then was introduced to new artistic interpretations
Oscar Bluemner, Evening Tones, 1911-1917, oil on canvas, Smithsonian American Art Museum, Gift of James F. Dicke II and museum purchase made possible by the American Art Forum, the Julia D. Strong Endowment and the Luisita L. and Franz H. Denghausen Endowment, 2002.24
Former Bronx Borough Courthouse
Between E. 161st St., Brook Ave., and Third Ave.
Oscar Bluemner (with Michael Garvin and Max Hausel)
1905-1914
The courthouse, a compact four-story mass of smooth granite, is divided almost evenly between a deeply rusticated two-story base and an upper portion where piers, pilasters and tall windows rise to a cornice and attic story. A preliminary sketch shows a high dome and cupola, never built, which would have visually absorbed the upthrust and perhaps more satisfyingly resolved the relation of vertical and horizontal. To fit its site, the building is trapezoidal in plan, narrowing toward the side facing down Third Avenue. This façade is penetrated at ground level by a great arched portal scooped out of the heavy stonework. Above it, the façade retreats into a deep bay flanked by two colossal cylindrical columns, between which is poised Jules Eduard Roiné’s larger-than-life-sized marble statue of Justice. Behind her, on the rear wall of the recess, the arch of the lower portal is repeated as a window frame, surmounted by a lion’s-head keystone.
In this Third Avenue front, and its variations on the other sides of the courthouse, very familiar elements of Beaux-Arts classicism have been used with restraint to construct a powerful architectural emblem—the force and threat of the Law represented below, its rationality and self-control above. In compensation for its structural austerity, the Third Avenue façade is enlivened by sharply chiseled geometrical inventions. Intricate frames, stylized swags, and complicated broken pediments surround the windows, some of which puncture the wall with unusually deep, shadowy apertures. Thick bullet-headed finials top the attic. There is even a motif—a set of three classical guttae (or “drops”)—which appears with witty persistence in all sorts of unexpected positions. The total effect is strikingly modern, in the manner of Viennese and Parisian buildings of the period, and very unlike New York’s turn-of-the-century architectural ornament.
How did the Bronx come by this remarkable Beaux-Arts building? By accident.
In 1903, the first President of the borough, Louis Haffen, passed on the contract for a courthouse design, worth $40,000, to his political right-hand-man, Michael Garvin. (“If you have the pull,” Garvin acknowledged later, “you get the work.”) Haffen was only following the Tammany tradition of rewarding loyalty with fat public works assignments. But his friend (despite serving as Building Commissioner) proved to have such limited architectural skills that his plans were rejected by the New York Art Commission, which derided them as “egregious” and “despicable.” The unfortunate Garvin was forced to seek out an underemployed architect, offering to share fees and credit in return for an acceptable building.
That he turned to Oscar Bluemner, a German émigré who had been a prize student at Berlin’s Royal Academy, was a stroke of fortune for Bronx architecture. But not for Bluemner: when the drawings had been prepared, Garvin submitted them as his own work, and ignored both promised credit and payment. The outraged Bluemner sued and won, his testimony leading to an investigation, which eventually resulted in Haffen’s dismissal. Bluemner, however, was awarded only about one-quarter of the amount he felt he was owed, and forced to allow Garvin main credit for the building; in disappointment, he gave up his profession a short while later, and turned to painting. Official records—even those of the Landmarks Commission—continued to attribute the courthouse to Garvin.
Like its designer, the building itself suffered from the political environment. Construction, begun in 1905, was drawn out until 1914, and cost two million dollars, more than twice the original estimate. (Not coincidentally, Garvin remained as supervising architect through the project.) By 1934 the county had found reasons to build a new courthouse, eventually leaving only a police court at the Third Avenue site. When the building was officially closed by the city in 1977, vandals undertook the stripping of its metalwork until all doorways and windows were sealed with concrete blocks (leveling off Bluemner’s deep embrasures). Although a 1981 designation as a landmark helped protect the courthouse from threatened razing, serious repairs have never been undertaken: the building is currently on the Landmarks Conservancy’s most endangered list. And lively plans for occupancy by community design and museum groups were thwarted when the courthouse was sold to a private developer for a derisory $130,000.
But things may be looking up. The new owner has performed a much-needed exterior cleaning—the Tammany-purchased granite having begun to yellow even before the building was completed—and found a tenant. Meanwhile, after revival of critical interest in his paintings led to a 2005 show at the Whitney Museum, the imaginative Oscar Bluemner is at last being acknowledged as author of this sophisticated public building.
David Bady
Photographs: Lehman College Art Gallery and David Bady
AFTER ARCHITECTURE, A CAREER IN ART
Oscar Bluemner, Self-Portrait, 1933, oil on panel, 19 3/4 x 14 3/4 in. Courtesy Crystal Bridges Museum of American Art, Bentonville, Arkansas
Sunset
Early life
Bluemner was born as Friedrich Julius Oskar Blümner in Prenzlau, Germany, on June 21, 1867. He studied painting and architecture at the Royal Academy of Design in Berlin.
Old Canal Port
Painting
In 1908 Bluemner met Alfred Stieglitz, who introduced him to the artistic innovations of the European and American avant-garde. By 1910, Bluemner had decided to pursue painting full-time rather than architecture.
He exhibited in the 1913 Armory Show. He said that the Americans’ contribution failed to match that of the Europeans because the American selection process reflected rivalries and compromises rather than curatorial judgment, resulting in a “melée of antagonistic examples”. Then in 1915 Stieglitz gave him a solo exhibition at his gallery, 291. Despite participating in several exhibitions, including solo shows, for the next ten years Bluemner failed to sell many paintings and lived with his family in near poverty. He created paintings for the Federal Arts Project in the 1930s.
Morning Light
Fourth, not so much Counterintuitive, but rather not noticed – the lack of freight railways in the City.
Later life
After his wife’s death in 1926, Bluemner moved to South Braintree, Massachusetts. From there in 1932 he contributed a letter to an ongoing debate in the New York Times on the question “What is American Art?”. He wrote:
America sells its shoes, machines, canned beef and so forth in Europe and all over the world not because they have an American style or are wrapped in the American flag, but simply because they are best. Thus also, the French export their paintings and birth-control, and the Germans export sauerkraut and prima donnas, because those things, each, are best. Today, for quality, nationalism, as a race-attribute, means nothing; chemistry, astronomy, or engineering admit, nowhere, of any national flavoring, nor do higher things like religion or philosophy.
Let us, here, make progressive and best painting, each one as he is fit to do, and merely ask: What and when is painting, in a critical sense? … How can the people agree on what is American style, if the painters themselves, and by their work, disagree profoundly as to what real painting itself is! And there is, and always was, nothing more contemptible, ridiculous and, to art, disastrous, than patrioteering, which thinly veils profiteering.
Ideally, art, pure, is of a sphere and of no country; the first real artists, always and everywhere, have either been importers or immigrants bringing the light with them. El Greco, an immigrant … defied the Spanish professors … ; we, now, call his work more truly Spanish than that of his local contemporaries. And in the same sense, the future will not fail to stamp that of our own work as peculiarly American in which the living painter, here, has injected no conscious thought of his hailing from Hoboken or Kankakee, and every consideration of pure and modern painting and of the supreme quality he maybe capable of.
He had a successful one-man show in 1935 at the Marie Harriman Gallery in New York City. In the New York Times, Edward Alden Jewell called it Bluemner’s “apotheosis”. He wrote:
He is very much alive and has been working of late … with robustious [sic] results. These twenty-eight canvases bear the generic title , “New Landscape Paintings.” That is because Mr. Blkuemner feels that some degree of “representation” is essential if abstract ideas are to be put over with entire success. However, the artist more fully and more exactly classifies them as “compositions for color themes.” He might, if he chose, even call them “color music” without risking the opprobrium that usually attends excursions into so hazardous a field. … These startling pictures build harmonies and rhythms that depend as a rule on simple statement. Here we find none of the overtones and undertones that some other artists have employed in projecting visual music. Bluemner relies for his effect upon plain, resonant chords. Though modulations of tone occur, these seem of secondary importance in his scheme. There is decidedly something in this new, bold, exclamatory style.
Bluemner committed suicide on January 12, 1938
Oscar Bluemner’s “Abruzzi Mountains,” is a 1922 watercolor. (Stetson University)
Legacy
Stetson University holds more than 1,000 pieces of Oscar Bluemner’s work bequeathed in 1997 by his daughter, Vera Bluemner Kouba. In 2009 the Homer and Dolly Hand Art Center at Stetson opened with a primary mission of housing a providing exhibition space for the Kouba Collection.[11] Often overlooked in his lifetime, Bluemner now is widely acknowledged as a key player in the creation of American artistic Modernism, with better-known colleagues such as Georgia O’Keeffe and John Marin.[
LEFT: STETSON UNIVERSITY RIGHT: Oscar Bluemner, Last Evening of the Year, c. 1929. Oil on board mounted on wood, 13 3/4 × 9 3/4 in. (34.9 × 24.8 cm). Whitney Museum of American Art; gift of Juliana Force 31.115
Painting of factories at Paterson by overlooked Armory Show artist Oscar Bluemner.
FROM ANDY SPARBERG, OUR RAIL PROFESSIONAL:
I would like to take the liberty of adding some information about the Penn Station project. Besides establishing a New York City station, the Pennsylvania Railroad (PRR) also wanted to create through train operation between Boston and Washington, today’s Amtrak Northeast Corridor service. The Hell Gate Bridge, which connected the PRR to the New Haven Railroad, was part of the overall Penn Station grand scheme and made this route possible, unchanged today.
Another piece of overall project was Sunnyside Yard, which allowed long distance PRR trains terminating in New York to simply continue east, enter the yard for servicing and cleaning, and then return to Penn Station for southward or western trip. That practice continues today. The overall track layout reduced the number of stub-end tracks in Penn to four (today’s tracks 1-4). Tracks 5 through 21 are all through-running tracks. That’s why Penn is not called a “terminal”, but a “station.”
Prior to the Hell Gate Bridge, Washington-Boston through train cars were floated around Manhattan, on barges between Jersey City and The Bronx, which was expensive and time-consuming
CHAPEL OF THE GOOD SHEPHERD WITH THE GOOD SAMARITAN GERMAN LUTHERAN CHURCH IN 1969
GLORIA HERMAN, MITCH HAMMER, NINA LUBLIN, JAY JACOBSON AND ED LITCHER MADE GREAT EFFORTS TO GET IT RIGHT. JOYOUS EASTER GREETINGS!
Text by Judith Berdy Thanks to Bobbie Slonevsky for her dedication to Blackwell’s Almanac and the RIHS Thanks to Deborah Dorff for maintaining our website Edited by Deborah Dorff All image are copyrighted (c)
Sources SMITHSONIAN AMERICAN ART MUSEUM WIKIPEDIA STETSON UNIVERSITY
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