Con artists were no strangers to early New York City. At one time or another, nearly every major landmark in the city had been sold by a ‘matchstick man.’ Around the turn of the twentieth century, one such fraud was performed by two men who targeted an artifact of slightly less renown: The Great West Point Chain.
The Great West Point Chain was the linchpin of the American defenses at West Point during the Revolutionary War. Prior to the Chain, various other methods of securing the Hudson River Valley from invading British vessels had been tried, but none with success. First installed across the Hudson at West Point in 1778, “General Washington’s watch chain” would guard the River for four years.
George Washington contracted Sterling Iron Works to make the chain, according to the Office of the USMA Command Historian. It contained 750 links weighing 100-120 pounds each. The chain was pulled out of the river each fall so it wouldn’t break when the water froze in the winter. The ice would keep the British at bay during that time. The chain was reinstalled each spring for four years. It was taken in for the last time in the fall of 1782.
After the War, the Chain was left on the riverbanks. The new country was nervous that they would end up in another war with Great Britain and didn’t want to dispose of the Chain in case it became useful again. However, when war did break out again in 1812 the Chain sat idle. Finally, in 1829, it was melted down.
Photo: U.S. Military Academy PAO Michelle Kalish
Or so it seemed. Over the next 60 years most forgot about the West Point Chain. Then, in 1889 Chicago confectioner Charles Frederick Gunther began displaying 18 links of the “original” West Point Chain in his curiosity museum. He had bought them from a military surplus dealer in New York City.
The dealer went by the unlikely moniker of Westminster Abbey (he told people his father had wanted him to be a lawyer and gave him a distinguished name. This would probably have given his father quite a shock, as the elder Abbey actually named his son ‘John’). ‘Westminster’ ran a junk shop on Front Street near the South Street Seaport, advertising everything from “rifles, revolvers, and military pistols” to the “best mixed tea, wholesale or retail”.
New York Sun – December 25, 1898
Abbey picked up his chain at an auction at the Brooklyn Navy Yard but didn’t pretend to know how it got there. When asked, he simply replied that Gunther had verified it. Abbey hit the jackpot, both in dollars and publicity, when he managed to sell 18 links of the chain to former New York mayor Abram Hewitt in 1898.
Abbey got out of the chain game shortly after the Hewitt sale. He sold his remaining sections to equally dubious (albeit more successful) surplus dealer Francis Bannerman VI, of Bannerman Castle fame. Where Abbey was an amateur self-promoter, Bannerman had gone pro. To go along with his links (and the desk weights he made out of some pieces) Bannerman printed up a booklet detailing the chain’s history.
Photo: U.S. Military Academy PAO Michelle Kalish
According to Bannerman, a large section of the Great Chain had survived the furnace and was brought to Manhattan in 1864 to be displayed at the Metropolitan Sanitary Fair, which raised money for the Union Army. Rather than haul the Chain back to West Point after the fair, it was dumped in Brooklyn. It had been Bannerman’s father (also a surplus dealer) who bought the chain at the Navy Yard Auction. His idea was to melt the unremarkable chain down for scrap.
At this point (Bannerman says) Abbey stepped in and, recognizing their importance, saved the links from destruction by buying them all. After making a few big sales, Abbey sold the leftovers back to Bannerman.
The problem is that none of the chain links sold by Abbey or Bannerman were authentic. In reality, Abbey had acquired a British mooring chain, cast in Wales in the mid-nineteenth century. Made of smooth rolled iron (rather than the rough, hand-hammered metal of the authentic Chain), Abbey’s links were almost double the size and weight of the West Point links. Despite the obvious differences, Abbey and Bannerman crafted a fiction from just enough fact that people believed it.
In reality, some of the original Chain was saved from destruction and left behind at West Point. Some of what was saved was exhibited at the 1864 Sanitary Fair. An auction at the Brooklyn Navy Yard in 1887 is also documented (although no mention is made of any chain).
Photo: Michelle Kalish, USMA PAO, Feb. 16, 2024
Although some questioned why their links differed from the originals, most either remained silent from embarrassment or made excuses (the Buffalo Historical Society wrote in 1921 that their Bannerman links are larger because they were made for a point in the Chain where the strain from the River was greatest).
By the time all was said and done, spurious chain links were scattered from Vermont to California, from small-town museums to the Smithsonian archives. The whole fraud wasn’t pieced together until 1990 when Hudson River historian Lincoln Diamant investigated all the known links for his book Chaining the Hudson: The Fight for the River in the American Revolution, a wonderful history of the West Point Chain.
Photo: Michelle Kalish, USMA PAO
A few authentic links still survive, most notably at Trophy Point in the United States Military Academy at West Point. Thirteen links ring a monument to the ingenuity, dedication, and patriotism of those who created it. Most of the chain was reused during the 19th century by the West Point Foundry.
You can even see pieces of the fake chain links that Abbey sold. A stretch of 25 links runs across the grounds of Ringwood Manor, the former New Jersey summer estate of Peter Cooper and Abram S. Hewitt. Hewitt purchased the chain segment from Abbey in the early 1900s, but almost immediately realized he had been conned. He had the links analyzed and found out they were made of English iron. The chain remained on the grounds as a reminder of the local area’s iron mining history.
EMERGENCY EXIT FROM 53RD STREET SUBWAY TUNNEL NEXT TO STRECKER LABORATORY
Text by Judith Berdy
ROOSEVELT ISLAND HISTORICAL SOCIETY
UNTAPPED NEW YORK DAN THURBER
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 Dottie Jeffries
MAYA LEVANON-PHOTOS TIK TOK & INSTAGRAM
All image are copyrighted (c) Roosevelt Island Historical Society unless otherwise indicated
During the 1920’s Aloysisus O’Kelly painted a series of paintings of Blackwell’s Island and the East River.
Years ago, I saw 5 of the painting at a conference room at Metropolitan Hospital. I took photos, just in case…..
Originally the painting I assume were hung at the Metropolitan Hospital on Blackwell’s Island.
Recently the NYC Health + Hospitals Arts in Medicine program has been surveying the collections of all the hospitals and facilities. The survey for Metropolitan Hospital lists two of the 5 paintings as being on site. The others may still be there, but not yet discovered.
Two other paintings were listed by an auction gallery on the internet.
Thanks to Larissa Trinder and the Arts in Medicine program for discovering many great artworks that have been lost of not on view at our H+H facilities.
Aloysius O’Kelly (3 July 1853 in Dublin – 12 January 1936) was an Irishpainter.
Early life
Aloysius was born to John and Bridget O’Kelly in Peterson’s Lane (now Lombard Street East), Dublin 3 July 1853. He was the youngest of four boys and one girl. The O’Kelly family along with Aloysius’ cousins, the Lawlors, made up a network of artists and political activists in 19th-century Irish cultural history. His grandparents on his father’s side were natives of County Roscommon and his father ran a blacksmith’s shop and dray making business in Peterson’s Lane.[1] His uncle on his mother’s side was John Lawlor, a successful sculptor, and his cousin, Michael Lawlor, was also a sculptor employed in London. Aloysius’ brothers, Charles and Stephen, also became artists, whereas the eldest brother, James J. O’Kelly, set forth on a successful political career. O’Kelly’s mother directed him towards a career in the arts.
In 1861, John’s father died and Bridget, whose brother, John Lawlor (1820-1901) was already an established sculptor in London. moved her family there. Lawlor became a father figure to her children, especially her sons. Lawlor took on the boys, including Aloysius, as apprentices in his studio.[2]
Career
Mass in a Connemara Cabin by Aloysius O’Kelly, 1883
O’Kelly traveled to Paris in order to enroll at the École des Beaux-Arts in 1874, where he studied under Bonnat and Gérôme. To enter the Gérôme’s atelier was a great honour, however, the master was exceedingly strict and merciless in his criticism; such that a number of students could not last the distance. It is uncertain whether O’Kelly ever matriculated.
From Gérôme, O’Kelly developed an interest in Oriental scenes. He traveled to Brittany in 1876, painting its aesthetic coastlines, fishing ports and villages.
In October 1881, Charles Stewart Parnell, a member of Parliament and leader of the Irish Party, was arrested and imprisoned in Kilmainham. Two days following his arrest, Aloysius’ brother, James J. O’Kelly, along with some other Party members, including John Dillon, were imprisoned where they remained until May 1882. A number of Aloysius’ drawings during this period portrayed the political situation dealing with his brother’s incarceration.[4]
Aloysius inevitably became embroiled in the murky and often secretive life of his brother. He began to paint and sketch political activists including members of the Land League.
O’Kelly lived in Concarneau, Connemara and eventually the United States, painting rural scenes in the prior and city life in New York City.[5] He knew Mark Twain, and painted a depiction of Huckleberry Finn, which the author inspected and commented on.[citation needed]
O’KELLY’S WORKS AT METROPOLITAN HOSPITAL
DRAPER HALL-NURSES RESIDENCE, BLACKWELL’S ISLAND LABELED AS GOLDWATER HOSPITAL) PAINTING ON SITE AT HOSPITAL
LIBRARY – PROBABLY DRAPER HALL, BLACKWELL’S ISLAND
CHAPEL OF THE HOLY SPIRIT- BLACKWELL’S ISLAND PAINTING IS ON SITE AT METROPOLITAN HOSPITAL
METROPOLITAN HOSPITAL BUIDINGS, BLACKWELL’S ISLAND
CITY HOSPITAL SCHOOL OF MEDICINE & NEW YORK TRAINING SCHOOL FOR NURSES
ISSUE # 1185
ROOSEVELT ISLAND HISTORICAL SOCIETY
The south end of the island was the training center for physicians and nurses from the 1870’s until the 1950’s. Enjoy some of our vintage images.
Medical students in front of City Hospital
Staff House for doctors.
Nursing students picture perfect pose
This lounge with its’ plaster relief of the City of New York existed during my early years on the island. It is the southernmost room in the Smallpox Hospital ruin.
Classes were in lecture style
Student nurses were taught to make healing medications and foods.
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 Dottie Jeffries
MAYA LEVANON-PHOTOS TIK TOK & INSTAGRAM
All image are copyrighted (c) Roosevelt Island Historical Society unless otherwise indicated
The former home of the reclusive “Weird Wendels” who dominated New York real estate a century before Donald Trump.
BEFORE DONALD TRUMP’S MONIKER WAS STAMPED all over New York City, there was another super-rich surname that dominated Manhattan real estate, and another bizarre story attached to it.
Around the turn of the 20th century, the Wendels were one of the most powerful real estate families in New York, owning 150 properties in Manhattan, worth about $1 billion today. But they certainly didn’t act the part. The six Wendel siblings—five of whom were women—lived together in a mansion on 5th Avenue and barely ever set foot outside the house. The four-story, 40-room red brick brownstone became known as the “House of Mystery,” where “the Weird Wendels” lived like hermits.
John G. Wendel, the one male, was eccentric at best, tyrannical at worst. He refused to allow his sisters to marry, worried that any children they had would dilute the family fortune. He gave them few opportunities to socialize with others, and lived like a recluse stuck in his ways. The house, built in 1856, was lit by gaslight up through the 1920s, eschewing modern amenities like electricity or telephone. Decades went by without any updates made to the musty furniture or decor, or the Wendels’ clothing—they wore outdated Victorian garb and traversed the city in an old carriage instead of a car on the rare occasion they went out.
The last of the Wendel siblings, Ella, passed away in 1931. She left the Wendel home to Drew University requesting it remain as a memorial to the family in its current state (such that it was). The university maintains a memorial room on campus, but the prized site on 5th Avenue was razed in 1934 and gave way to commercial properties like the rest of the formerly residential avenue.
Today there are a few reminders of the Wendel empire, outside a vault at Trinity Cemetery in lower Manhattan, and a bronze plaque the size of a door at the site of the former Wendel home on 5th Avenue.
19th century map showing Manhattan’s East Side shoreline and Blackwell’s Island, now Roosevelt Island. Avenue A and Avenue B are now York and East End Avenues, respectively.
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 Dottie Jeffries
MAYA LEVANON-PHOTOS TIK TOK & INSTAGRAM
All image are copyrighted (c) Roosevelt Island Historical Society unless otherwise indicated
To commemorate the New York City designation of July 10, 1997 as Nikola Tesla Day, the Flatiron Partnership recalls the electric power inventor’s life in the neighborhood during the 1890s. Tesla resided and conducted scientific experiments at the Gerlach Hotel, now known in his honor as the Radio Wave Building at 49 West 27th Street, between Sixth Avenue and Broadway. Wireless remote control was one of Tesla’s notable creations, and he held its first demonstration at the 1898 Electrical Exhibition in Madison Square Garden on 26th Street.
Born on July 10, 1856 in the Croatian village of Smiljan, Nikola Tesla was the fourth of five children. His father was a Serbian Orthodox priest, and mother, a household appliances inventor and manager of the family’s farm. While in high school, their son Nikola could “do integral calculus in his head,” notes thoughtco.com, and was so inspired by the demonstrations of electricity in his physics class that it “made him want to know more of this wonderful force.” He would receive a college scholarship for further study at Austria’s Graz Polytechnic School.
In 1882, Tesla accepted an offer to work at Thomas Edison’s Continental Edison Company in Paris. Two years later, he relocated to New York City for a job opportunity at Edison Machine Works, along “with the hope that Edison would help finance and develop a Tesla invention, an alternating-current (AC) motor and electrical system,” wrote The New York Times on December 30, 2017. “But Edison was instead investing in highly inefficient direct-current (DC) systems, and he had Tesla re-engineer a DC power plant on Pearl Street in Lower Manhattan.”
According to history.com, Tesla “worked there for a year, impressing Edison with his diligence and ingenuity. At one point Edison told Tesla he would pay $50,000 for an improved design for his DC dynamos. After months of experimentation, Tesla presented a solution and asked for the money. Edison demurred, saying, ‘Tesla, you don’t understand our American humor.’” Tesla left the Edison team, and the pair soon engaged in an electrical power rivalry known as the “War of the Currents.” Their competition included the 1892 bid by the Westinghouse Electric Corporation, where Tesla sold his AC patent and was now a consultant, and Edison’s General Electric firm vying for Chicago’s World’s Fair electricity contract, which Westinghouse won.
During 1892, Tesla had also moved to the Gerlach Hotel at 49 West 27th Street, between Sixth Avenue and Broadway. Constructed as French flats between 1882-83, the 11-story structure was designed by August Hatfield. But by the 1890s, it was operating as a hotel. Explained Richard Munson inTesla: Inventor of the Modern about the tech pioneer’s time there, “After arising at 6:30 a.m., having gotten three hours of sleep, Tesla enjoyed a light breakfast, performed a few gymnastic exercises, and began his daily thirty block walk” pass Madison Square Garden and Madison Square Park to his Lower Manhattan lab. Tesla had installed at the Gerlach, a “receiver on the hotel’s roof in order to capture some of the first radio transmissions from his downtown workshop,” wrote Munson. The author also revealed that while Tesla strolled, he “counted his steps, making sure they were divisible by three.” His “obsession with the number three and fastidious washing,” notes history.com, were “dismissed as the eccentricities of genius.”
By 1898, Tesla was ready to showcase one of his most innovative inventions, the first radio-controlled vessel, at an exhibit held in Madison Square Garden on 26th Street. The event’s opening day on May 2nd included a wired message from President William McKinley in Washington, D.C. The Commander in Chief expressed that it gave him “great pleasure to open the Electrical Exhibition in Greater New York, and to participate in this wonderful demonstration of the latest method of recording and publishing by means of electricity,” reported The New York Timeson May 3, 1898. “I am glad to know that the resources of the wonderful electrical arts have already been so far advanced in the United States that American electrical goods are welcome the world over.”
Photo Credit: Nikola Tesla demonstrates his Tesla coil “Magnifying Transmitter via ThoughtCo
Tesla’s presentation was considered to be “a scientific tour de force, a demonstration completely beyond the generally accepted limits of technology,” according to pbs.org. “Everyone expected surprises from Tesla, but few were prepared for the sight of a small, odd-looking, iron-hulled boat scooting across an indoor pond (specifically built for the display). In an era when only a handful of people knew about radio waves, some thought that Tesla was controlling the small ship with his mind. In actuality, he was sending signals to the mechanism using a small box with control levers on the side. Tesla’s device was literally the birth of robotics.”
This groundbreaking technology inside the Garden was not the only sign of change around the neighborhood. At the end of the 19th century, the Gerlach had also temporarily shut its doors in 1899, and Tesla made a move to Midtown Manhattan. “In his heyday,” wroteTime magazine on November 27, 1944, Tesla “lived at the Waldorf-Astoria and had a fabulous reputation as a host. He invariably took his guests to his laboratory and treated them to an electrical display, which included the then startling trick of passing 1,000,000 volts through his body.” Tesla continued to occupy hotels most of his life, which included a 10-year stay at The New Yorker Hotel, where he reportedly died of coronary thrombosis on January 7, 1943 at the age of 86.
Six months after his death, the U.S. Supreme Court upheld an earlier decision on Tesla’s radio patent, thus naming him the real inventor of the radio, not Guglielmo Marconi, who had received the 1909 Nobel Prize in Physics for his work in wireless telegraphy. “The Court had a selfish reason for doing so,” notes pbs.org about the controversial ruling. “The Marconi Company was suing the United States government for use of its patents in World War I. The Court simply avoided the action by restoring the priority of Tesla’s patent over Marconi.” In recognition of Tesla’s triumphs in radio technology while living and working in Madison Square, a commemorative plaque was placed at 49 West 27th Street by the Yugoslav-American Bicentennial Committee on January 7, 1977, which was also 34 years after Tesla’s passing.
SUNY PLATTBURGH NURSING STUDENT STANDING ON ROOF OF CENTRAL NURSES RESIDENCE. STUDENT NURSES LIVED ON WELFARE ISLAND WHILE STUDYING AT NEW YORK HOSPITALS, 1966
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 Dottie Jeffries
MAYA LEVANON-PHOTOS TIK TOK & INSTAGRAM
All image are copyrighted (c) Roosevelt Island Historical Society unless otherwise indicated
75½ Bedford Street is a house located in the West Village neighborhood of New York City that is only 9 feet 6 inches (2.9 meters) wide. Built in 1873, it is often described as the narrowest house in New York.[1] Its past tenants have included Edna St. Vincent Millay, author Ann McGovern, cartoonist William Steig and anthropologist Margaret Mead.[1][2][3] It is sometimes referred to as the Millay House, indicated by a plaque on the outside of the house.[4] The house is located in the Greenwich Village Historic District, but is not an individually designated New York City Landmark.[5]
History The three-story house is located at 75½ Bedford Street, between Commerce and Morton Streets, not far from Seventh Avenue South in the West Village section of Manhattan.[4] The New York City Landmarks Preservation Commission considers it the city’s narrowest townhouse.[1][4] On the inside, the house measures 8 feet 7 inches (2.62 m) wide; at its narrowest, it is only 2 feet (0.61 m) wide.[1]
According to the Landmarks Preservation Commission and the archives of the Greenwich Village Society for Historic Preservation, the house was constructed in 1873 during a smallpox epidemic, for Horatio Gomez, trustee of the Hettie Hendricks-Gomez Estate, on what was the former carriage entranceway for the adjacent property,[1] which includes the adjacent 1799 house at 77 Bedford Street, built by Joshua Isaacs,[3] the oldest house in Greenwich Village. However, the house may have been constructed earlier, as the style that appears in a 1922 photograph at the New-York Historical Society is typical of the 1850s Italianate architecture common in the area at the time.[3]
In 1923, the house was leased by a consortium of artists who used it for actors working at the nearby Cherry Lane Theater. Cary Grant and John Barrymore stayed at the house while performing at the Cherry Lane[4] during this time. Edna St. Vincent Millay, the Pulitzer Prize winning poet, and her new husband, coffee importer Eugen Jan Boissevain, lived in the house from 1923 to 1924. They hired Ferdinand Savignano to renovate the house. He added a skylight, transformed the top floor into a studio for Millay and added a Dutch-inspired front gabled façade for her husband.[3]
Later occupants included cartoonist William Steig and his sister-in-law, anthropologist Margaret Mead. The house was the inspiration the children’s book Mr Skinner’s Skinny House,[6] written by former resident Ann McGovern and illustrated by Mort Gerberg. George Gund IV, son of sports entrepreneur George Gund III, purchased the house for $3.25 million in June 2013.[4]
Architecture The external dimensions of the house are approximately 9.5 by 42 feet (2.9 by 12.8 m), on a lot that is 80 feet (24 m) deep, while the internal dimensions vary between 2 and 8.5 feet (0.61 and 2.59 m) by 30 feet (9.1 m) deep.[1][3] City records list the house as 999 square feet (92.8 m2).[4]
The exterior features a stepped gable similar to those seen in the Dutch architectural tradition.[7] Inside, “[a] centrally placed spiral staircase dominates all three floors and bisects the space into two distinct living areas. The narrow steps call for expert sideways navigational skills. Under the stairwell on the first floor is a tiny utility closet, the only closed storage space in the house. All three floors have fireplaces”.[1] An arched doorway leads to the shared garden in the rear.[7][1] The house has two bathrooms, and its galley kitchen comes with a microwave built into the base of the winding staircase that rises to the upper floors.[4]
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 Dottie Jeffries
All image are copyrighted (c) Roosevelt Island Historical Society unless otherwise indicated
It takes a lot of audacity (not to mention deep pockets) to build yourself and your family a Manhattan mansion in the style of a Medieval castle.
But real estate developer Charles Paterno doesn’t come across as someone who lacked boldness.
In the late 19th century, Paterno (below left) was an Italian immigrant whose father and brother ran a contracting business, according to Christopher Gray in a 1999 New York Times Streetscapes column. He graduated from medical school at Cornell University in 1899, intended to become a doctor. A tragedy changed his career plans.
“His father died, leaving the family in possession of a half-finished apartment house,” noted the Brooklyn Daily Eagle in Paterno’s 1946 obituary.
“To assist his brother [in completing] the structure, Mr. Paterno agreed to defer his medical practice, and his success in the building profession [made him decide] to remain in it.”
Paterno and his brother would go on to build more than 140 apartment buildings, including the Colosseum and the Paterno—two luxury residences completed in 1910 with spectacular curved facades opposite each other at 116th Street and Riverside Drive.
When it came time to build his own mansion, however, Paterno favored old-world fortresses over pre-war masonry and terra cotta. In 1905, roughly 70 blocks north of the Colosseum and the Paterno on Riverside Drive (and next door to New York Herald publisher James Gordon Bennett’s estate), he constructed a four-story, 35-room castle.
“Built of white marble, the structure was designed using an eccentric architectural vocabulary that drew influence from both Norman castles and the Rhineland,” wrote Danielle Oteri at metmuseum.org.
“Attended by elegant Italian gardens and pergolas that peered out onto the Hudson, it also featured a cellar solely devoted to growing mushrooms and a swimming pool that filtered water directly from the adjacent Hudson River,” explained Oteri.
The New York Times in 1946 pointed out the castle’s stone turrets “designed in a mixture of old English and Roman style,” the white marble interior containing an organ worth $61,000, the 17 greenhouses, and a swimming pool “surrounded by bird cages.”
Castle Village opened in the late 1930s, but its construction didn’t obliterate all traces of the castle mansion that inspired it.
“Two pillars from Paterno Castle remain near the intersection of West 181st Street and Cabrini Boulevard, as well as part of the massive retaining wall that resembles a dismembered piece of the Castel Nuovo in Naples,” wrote Oteri. This pillar (above) looks like one of the surviving two.
“Part of the wall was destroyed in 2005 when it collapsed and slid onto the Henry Hudson Parkway, but a large section of Paterno’s original wall remains intact, with the restored portion recreating the tone and texture of the façade’s original grandeur,” she added.
Then there’s this structure, which I didn’t get to view close-up. It certainly seems like a Paterno Castle relic, perhaps some kind of an outdoor storage space? This photo shows a front view.
Some sources state that the wonderful cantilevered Pumpkin House, perched high above the Hudson River, was created from remnants of the Paterno Castle. Others refute this claim; it’s just up the street from Castle Village and was more likely built on Bennett’s former property.
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 Dottie Jeffries
MAYA LEVANON-PHOTOS TIK TOK & INSTAGRAM
All image are copyrighted (c) Roosevelt Island Historical Society unless otherwise indicated
A native of the western or central Mediterranean, the artichoke is a perennial plant in the thistle group of the sunflower. The wild variety of the species is called a cardoon. Sicilians claim that the plant originated on the island. In the town of Cerda (the “artichoke capital” in the Province of Palermo) a sculptural monument in its main square is dedicated to the plant’s presence.
Thistles, either in the form of artichoke or cardoon, have been consumed since the days of Ancient Greece and Rome. The flower bud is its edible part.
The Romans preserved artichoke hearts in honey and vinegar and seasoned them with cumin. The vegetable was neglected after the fall of Rome, but remained to be nurtured by Arabs who transported the plant to Spain.
North African Moors who had settled there began cultivating artichokes in the area of Granada; another Arab group, the Saracens, became identified with chokes in Sicily. This suggests an Arab origin. The European name is derived from “al-khurshuf,” the Arabic term for thistle. It became alcarchofa in Spanish, articiocco in Italian and ultimately artichoke.
Interest in the vegetable was revived in the mid-fifteenth century when the plant was cultivated around Naples and gradually spread to other parts of Europe and, eventually, to America. In the process, the artichoke turned out to be much more than just a delicacy. It became associated with medicine, sexual performance and organized (Sicilian) crime.
Cure & Aphrodisiac
The artichoke’s medicinal properties have long been praised. The Roman naturalist Pliny the Elder ascribed various health benefits to the plant’s consumption. All plants of the thistle family were recommended for stimulating digestion and treating rheumatism in various ways, not only in Europe but also by Native Americans and in Chinese medicine. The juice of the leaves was used in skin treatment.
Traditional uses are borne out by modern research that has shown artichoke to aid digestion, liver and gall bladder function and to reduce cholesterol levels. The plant is rich in Vitamin C (ascorbic acid) and minerals.
When, according to Greek myth, Zeus emerged from the sea one day to visit his brother Poseidon, he observed a pretty young girl by the name of Cynara. He seduced her and, turning her into a goddess, took her to Mount Olympus. She disobeyed him by making secret visits to her family. In anger, he tossed Cynara aside and turned her into an artichoke. The scientific name for the plant therefore became Cynara cardunculus and its erotic association lingered.
The pairing of artichokes with sexual potency was stressed in later medical textbooks. In 1576, Boldo Bartolmeo published his Libro della natura (Book of Nature) in Venice. The book was a revised version of a popular tract entitled Libreto di tute le cosse che se manzano (Little Treatise on the Things One Eats), first published in 1508 by Padua-born Michele Savonarola, former physician to Niccolo III d‘Este, Marquis of Ferrara, and one of the outstanding practitioners of his era.
The book illustrated the nature and properties of food with particular attention to human health and well-being (the “regimen sanitas”). In Boldo’s updated account artichokes are praised for possessing the virtue – as the author delicately puts it – of “provoking Venus for both men and women; for women making them more desirable, and helping the men who are in these matters rather tardy.” The artichoke became widely lauded as an aphrodisiac that enhanced performance and helped conception.
Catherine de Medici & Henry VIII
Originally associated with Italian cuisine, artichokes reached the rest of Europe when Catherine de Medici married Henry II of France at the tender age of fourteen. Having arrived in Paris from Florence in 1533, she brought her kitchen staff with her.
The artichoke was an instant gastronomic success at the Court. Catherine de Medici and her circle of intimate friends gave the vegetable an over-sexed reputation. Inevitably, Henry VIII was tempted to test its impact on the functioning of the genitals.
Artichokes had been introduced to England by immigrants from the Low Countries where they had been in vogue since the start of the sixteenth century.
In 1611, the incomparable Antwerp-born woman artist Clara Peeters painted a “Still Life with Fish, a Candle, Artichokes, Crab and Prawns,” the earliest recorded fish still life in art. Fish was a staple food in the Netherlands, but the presence of artichokes on the table is surprising. Peeters and a number of her contemporaries had become curious enough in the “new” vegetable (and its intriguing shape) to include them in their paintings.
By 1530 artichokes were reported to be growing in Henry VIII’s formal gardens at his Essex summer resort, the Palace of Beaulieu in Boreham. The King’s favorite vegetable soon became fashionable and associated with copious dining. Its reputation as an aphrodisiac was undisputed. A century later, botanist Nicholas Culpeper described artichokes in his Herbal as “under the dominion of Venus” – they spur lust.
Landscapers at major English estates of the sixteenth century were ordered by their employers to design and cultivate ‘artichoke gardens’. Dating from the reign of Elizabeth I, there was in London a tavern named the Queen’s Head and Artichoke in Albany Street, Regent’s Park. The second part of the name was allegedly added at the Queen’s request who, whilst dining at the inn, took a liking to the taste of artichokes.
The vegetable’s appeal did not diminish. Botanist John Evelyn was the one of the first notable British historians of gardening. In 1699, he published his Acetaria: A Discourse of Sallets (familiarly known as Evelyn’s “salad list”) in which he paid ample attention to the preparation of artichokes which were best enjoyed (with a glass of wine) by the heads “being slit in quarters, first eaten raw, with oil, a little Vinegar, salt and Pepper.”
It was around this time that the American colonies were beginning to take an interest in the plant. Artichokes were grown in the United States as early as the eighteenth century. French and Spanish immigrants had been involved in their introduction to the United States.
Monterey County
George and Martha Washington cultivated globe artichokes at Mount Vernon. Thomas Jefferson grew them at Monticello and first listed the plant in 1770 in his Garden Book. However, as a foodstuff artichokes remained a rarity and were not a popular edible until the twentieth century.
Early settlers and native-born Americans had previously consumed a limited supply of vegetables, consisting of (sweet) potatoes, cabbage, lettuce, corn, beans and tomatoes. Mass immigration changed that habit and pattern. By the 1920s, people were offered a wider and more diverse range of vegetables, including asparagus, avocados, endive, spinach and sweet peppers.
Andrew John Molera, a Californian landowner in the Salinas Valley of Monterey County, decided in 1922 to lease land that had previously been dedicated to the growing of sugar beets to immigrant Italian farmers, encouraging them to cultivate artichokes. His reasons were purely economic as demand for the vegetable was outstripping production and prices were rising fast.
He and his tenant farmers formed the Monterey Bay Artichoke Growers cooperative, creating the Sea-Lion brand. Molera shipped their produce to New York City, Detroit, Philadelphia, Chicago and New Orleans, firmly establishing the artichoke as part of the American diet.
His success set a precedent. Within a relatively short period of time California dominated this particular corner of the nation’s vegetable market with Monterey County at the heart of its cultivation. Henrietta Shore’s mural “Artichoke Pickers” (1934), originally located at Monterey’s Old Customs House, provides a lively image of a harvest in Salinas Valley.
King of Artichokes
Citrus fruits have grown in Sicily since Arabic conquerors planted trees on the island in the eleventh century. The bay around Palermo derives its name of “Conca d’Ora” (The Golden Basin) from an abundance of the species. From the mid-nineteenth century onward the Mafia became involved.
It was in the island’s citrus groves that the organization began developing their characteristic practices of intimidation and extortion. Some historians argue that the Sicilian Mafia grew out of lemons. New York City produced its own entrepreneur of food rackets.
Ciro Terranova was born in 1888 in the “Mafia” town of Corleone. In 1893, his parents moved the family to the United States, lived for a while in Louisiana and Texas, before settling permanently in New York City where Ciro and his brothers met up with their half-brother Giuseppe Morello.
They would later form the powerful Morello syndicate that was involved in the familiar rackets of alcohol, gambling, etc. Based in Manhattan’s Italian Harlem, it was one of New York’s earliest crime families and gained dominance by defeating the Neapolitan Camorra of Brooklyn.
Ciro created his own corner of criminal activity. Keenly aware of both the profitable artichoke market (especially in his own Italian community) and the limited availability of the plant because of specific growing conditions, he saw an opportunity of monopolizing the sales. Having founded a produce company, he purchased all artichokes shipped to New York from California and resold the product at a massive profit.
In the process, his gang terrorized distributors and merchants. Its members launched attacks on the artichoke fields of farmers reluctant to deal with him, hacking down the plants with machetes in the dead of night. They even attacked farms with gas bombs dropped from small planes.
Ciro’s racket earned him an estimated million dollar each year between about 1925 and 1935. He became known and feared as the “Artichoke King.”
Queen of Artichokes
New York’s first Italian-American Mayor Fiorello La Guardia was elected in 1934 on a platform to fight corruption in the city. He was determined to rid the streets of criminal activity which, during the Great Depression, included extorted “extra” payments on fruits and vegetables. Why did he pick a fight with racketeers of the artichoke industry?
The (baby) artichoke was particularly popular in New York City’s densely populated Italian neighborhoods, but its trade at local vegetable markets was not monitored by the NYPD. The Mayor identified the artichoke as both as symbol and core activity of the Morello clan. He decided to take on the Artichoke King himself. As the produce racket was an interstate affair, Herbert Hoover (head of the FBI) was alerted. The Mayor expected prompt action from the federal agencies.
At 6:50 a.m. on December 21, 1935, two police trumpeters – in true Italian style – roused workers at the Bronx Terminal Market. La Guardia climbed onto the back of a vegetable truck and proclaimed a ban on baby artichokes for posing a “serious and threatening emergency” in the city, pronouncing that a “racketeer in artichokes is no different than a racketeer in slot machines.” His operatic action was dramatically labelled the “Great Artichoke War.”
Three days later, the extortion racket was broken. Mobsters were arrested and five members of Terranova’s gang imprisoned. The illegal surcharges they imposed on Californian artichokes ended and the ban was lifted.
Having defeated the Mafia’s control, La Guardia enlisted the cooperation of local restaurants to promote and drive up demand for his beloved baby artichokes. Grocery sales rocketed and recipes proliferated, spreading awareness and popularity of the vegetable.
The success story continued after the war. The farming community of Castroville, located about fifteen miles northeast of Monterey, became a focus of agricultural and commercial activity. It was here that in 1948 a young lady named Norma Jean Mortenson was chosen as California’s first official “Artichoke Queen.”
In the years that followed Castroville developed into the “Artichoke Centre of the World,” hosting (just like Cerda in Sicily) an annual festival dedicated to the vegetable. Norma Jean, having changed her name to Marilyn Monroe, became the irrepressible sex symbol of the 1950s and early 1960s as well as an emblem of the era’s sexual revolution. The artichoke had fully regained its formal reputation.
PHOTO OF THE DAY
ONE OF A COLLECTION OF MURALS PAINTED DURING THE 1930’S WPA ERA FOR CHILDRENS’ WARD AT GOUVENEUR HOSPITAL
Text by Judith Berdy
IMAGES AND TEXT NEW YORK ALMANACK JAAP HARSKAMP
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 Dottie Jeffries
MAYA LEVANON-PHOTOS TIK TOK & INSTAGRAM
All image are copyrighted (c) Roosevelt Island Historical Society unless otherwise indicated
October 1935. Young residents of Amite City, Louisiana. View full size. 35mm nitrate negative by Ben Shahn for the Farm Security Administration.
October 1935. Natchez, Mississippi. “Two women walking along the street.” 35mm negative by Ben Shahn for the Resettlement Administration. View full size.
Summer 1938. Hamburger stand at the Buckeye Lake amusement park near Columbus. View full size. 35mm nitrate negative by Ben Shahn, who goes on to describe the place: “Buckeye Lake is the weekend and summer months resort for all of central Ohio. Its patrons are clerks, Columbus politicians, laborers, businessmen, droves of high school and college students. The rich occupy one side of the lake, the rest rent cottages on the other side. It has an evil reputation and an evil smell. It has furnished Columbus and the neighboring small towns and cities with dancing, cottaging, swimming, etc. for several generations. This is the most unsavory place the photographer ran across in Ohio.” But how are the hot dogs?
October 1935. “Poverty on the march.” Wife and child of destitute Ozark family in Arkansas. 35mm nitrate negative by Ben Shahn. View full size.
Summer 1938. Drugstore window in Newark, Ohio. View full size. Photograph (35mm nitrate negative) by Ben Shahn, Farm Security Administration.
1937. “Mrs. Mary McLean, Skyline Farms, Alabama.” 35mm nitrate negative by Ben Shahn for the Farm Security Administration. View full size.
Interior of tenant farmer home. Little Rock, Arkansas. October 1935. The “round thing” is an old-fashioned convex mirror. View full size. Photo by Ben Shahn.
Summer 1938. “Street Scene in Circleville, Ohio. Because of its non-industrial surroundings, retains much of old-time flavor.” Reflected in the glass we can see Ben Shahn snapping this picture with his Leica pointed sideways. View full size. 35mm nitrate negative by Ben Shahn for the Farm Security Administration.
PHOTO OF THE DAY
THE ISLAND NOBODY KNOWS PUBLISHED IN 1969 SHOWING THE FUTURISTIC VIEWS OF THE ISLAND THEN CALLED WELFARE ISLAND
Text by Judith Berdy
IMAGES AND TEXT SHORPY HISTORIC AMERICAN PHOTO ARCHIVE 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 Dottie Jeffries
MAYA LEVANON-PHOTOS TIK TOK & INSTAGRAM
All image are copyrighted (c) Roosevelt Island Historical Society unless otherwise indicated
ADNY x AP – Lighting Installation, Photo by Jason DeCrow/AP Images for Alliance for Downtown New York
This month you can craft a song with glowing dominos at Fosun Plaza! In partnership with Quartier des Spectacles International, Montreal-based design studio Ingrid Ingrid presents Domino Effect, an immersive take on the game of dominos that allows visitors to engage with life-size, musical domino pieces. The installation consists of 120 tumbling pieces, each with its own color and range of sounds, distributed across 12 stations. Each set of dominos features different instruments such as percussion, marimba, balafon, flute, and even vocals. Colorful and bright, the dominos glow like lanterns in rectangular form, bringing warmth to the cold city. They stand sturdy, built specifically to endure icy weather and winds, but with a simple push, they are awakened with light and fall, creating a classic “domino effect.” The playful exhibition encourages pedestrians to leave their cozy homes and spend some time outdoors. Domino Effect will be on view through March 6 at Fosun Plaza in front of 28 Liberty St. in Lower Manhattan.
Courtesy of Art Production Fund, Photo by Daniel Greer
New York-based artist Melissa Joseph presents her first art exhibition at Rockefeller Center through the Art in Focus program. Raised in an Indian/American household, Joseph’s art mirrors her cultural heritage. She uses textile art to weave together a heartfelt narrative about the importance of POC representation and underrepresented voices in marginalized communities. The exhibition on view at the Rink Level of 45 Rockefeller Plaza will feature a 125-foot display of curated works by Joseph. The pieces featured include needle-felted wool emblazoned with imagery of intimate aspects of the artist’s life displayed along the walls like a series of family portraits. Joseph’s presentation can be viewed at 10 Rockefeller Plaza, 30 Rockefeller Plaza, 50 Rockefeller Plaza, and Radio Park.
Joseph will also host a free Art Sundae children’s workshop at Rockefeller Center where participants can create their own art alongside the artist and have their work included in a window installation. Joseph’s Art In Focus will be on view through April 19.
Courtesy of Morahan Arts and Media, Photo by Noemie Trusty
Mesmerizing projections will cover anchorages of the Manhattan Bridge this winter as the Dumbo Improvement District launches an outdoor video art exhibition titled The Dumbo Projection Project. This series will feature works by different artists from January to April projected in three different locations: the anchorages at Adams Street and Pearl Street, and along the BQE in Susan Smith Mckinney Steward Park, Thursdays to Saturdays from dusk to 10pm. Volume One features four different projections, each with its own unique theme.
In Speculative Geologies & Speculative Geologies (Triptych) by Jason Urban and Leslie Mutcher show 400 individual 3d models of made-up rocks and minerals created from the melding of nature and technology. In Sound of Deep Waters, Josh Miller and Angela Fraleigh translate viewer text messages into floral imagery. Mz.Icar Collective pays homage to the local youth and wise elders of DUMBO in The Protectors. Finishing out Volume One is Ocean with Spirit Patterns, a trance-like video by Grant Cutler.
Photo Courtesy of David Plakke Media
The latest installation at Penn Station brings forth New York-based artist Rico Gatson’s Untitled (Collective Light Transfer). Geometric shapes in a colorful bright palette decorate Amtrak concourse, bringing a pulsing energy to the bland space. The vibrant acrylic compositions cover the high pillars and walls for travelers to view as they move through the station (the patterns represent the rhythm of people as they hustle through the city). Gatson’s artistic inspirations derive from African, Native, and Indigenous cultures as well as spirituality, translating into abstract mathematical imagery. Amtrak Vice President Jina Sanone says Untitled (Collective Light Transfer) “weaves light, color, and culture together to surprise and delight customers and station visitors.” The installation is on view through the summer in the upper-level rotunda between the 8th Avenue Amtrak departure concourse and the 7th Avenue NJ Transit.
Two new digital works by artists Eirini Linardaki and Zach Horn animate the screens at Grand Central Madison. Greek-born and New York-based, Linardaki presents a piece that serves as a culmination of experiences she has gone through on her travels in different cities. Diaphanous Pareidolia, is a five-screen digital animated artwork clad in multi-patterned landscapes, buildings, and commuters on the subway. Itdepicts the energy of the city and its panoramic views, taking the viewer on a nomadic journey through Long Island City to Upstate New York.
Horn’s serene hand-painted waves undulate methodically in Rockaway, a tribute to his family’s connection to the Queens neighborhood. Horn’s style of work is heartfelt and personal with hints of nostalgia. Glowing in blue and indigo hues, Rockaway is a visual reminder of memories made throughout the generations of Horn’s family. Both artworks are presented as part of the MTA Arts & Design Digital Arts Program and are displayed across five LED screens near the 47th Street entrance to Grand Central Madison.
Don’t be alarmed if you catch a glimpse of a sloth, alligator, pelican, or some other wild animal at JFK Airport this month. It’s likely a hologram. As part of Terminal 4 operator JFKIAT‘s T4 Arts & Culture program, T4 has partnered with the Wildlife Conservation Society and the Bronx Zoo to create a series of holographic stations where travelers can learn about wildlife and T4 sustainability efforts from Bronx Zoo Director Jim Breheny.
T4 has also introduced a hand-painted mural representing the vibrant history of Queens by local artist Zeehan Wazed, a photography exhibit powered by the Cradle of Aviation Museum, and a photography series featuring shots captured by T4 employees.
PHOTO OF THE DAY
VINTAGE PHOTO BY EUGENE DE SELIGNAC, OFFICIAL BRIDGE PHOTOGRAPHER OF NEWLY CONSTRUCTED QUEENSBORO BRIDGE. SEE POLICE OFFICER ON FAR SIDE. SEE SPIRAL STAIRCASE LEADING PEDESTRIANS FROM ONE SIDE OF THE ALL PEDESTIAN UPPER LEVEL TO THE OTHER.
CREDITS
Text by Judith Berdy
IMAGES AND TEXT UNTAPPED NEW YORK
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 Dottie Jeffries
MAYA LEVANON-PHOTOS TIK TOK & INSTAGRAM
All image are copyrighted (c) Roosevelt Island Historical Society unless otherwise indicated
