GIANT TIMBER BRIDGE OF THE MOYNIHAN CONNECTOR IS INSTALLED AT THE HIGH LINE
UNTAPPED NEW YORK
NICOLE SARANIERO A massive timber bridge measuring nearly 300 feet long, the length of a city block, was installed at the High Lineover the weekend. Called the Moynihan Connector, this new connection to the elevated park will link the High Line’s current terminus at West 30th Street and 10th Avenue to a public plaza within the Manhattan West development, creating a seamless pedestrian path from the transit hubs of Penn Station and Moynihan Train Hall in Midtown to the West Village.
Andrew Frasz, courtesy of the High LineAfter the bridge was assembled on the ground, construction crews used two cranes to lift it into place 25 feet above Dyer Avenue. The wooden truss bridge, which weighs 128 tons, is made up of 163 Alaskan Yellow Cedar beams. After the sections of the bridge were hoisted into the air, they were lowered down onto steel columns.The Moynihan Connector runs along West 30th toward West 31st Street, and takes a 90-degree turn at Dyer Avenue, at the entrance to the Lincoln Tunnel. This is where the bridge can be found, running north into the public plaza at Manhattan West.
Andrew Frasz, courtesy of the High LineRunning along 30th Street is the Woodland Bridge, another part of the Moynihan Connector. This bridge will contain 5-foot deep soil containers for lush plantings to grow from along the path. The two bridges will be visually connected by Corten steel decking and bronze handrails. The connector design is a collaboration between James Corner Field Operations, who was a part of the High Line’s original design team, and Skidmore, Owings & Merrill.
TUESDAY PHOTO RIHS OFFICE ON THE 4TH FLOOR OF THE OCTAGON JANET SPENCER KING GOT IT RIGHT PARDON OUR TYPO… WE HAVE CORRECTED 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
All image are copyrighted (c) Roosevelt Island Historical Society unless otherwise indicated
UNTAPPED NEW YORK
THIS PUBLICATION FUNDED BY DISCRETIONARY FUNDS FROM CITY COUNCIL MEMBER JULIE MENIN & ROOSEVELT ISLAND OPERATING CORPORATION PUBLIC PURPOSE FUNDS.
WEEKEND PHOTO SOHMER PIANO FACTORY ON VERNON BLVD. ED LITCHER 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
All image are copyrighted (c) Roosevelt Island Historical Society unless otherwise indicated
JUDITH BERDY
THIS PUBLICATION FUNDED BY DISCRETIONARY FUNDS FROM CITY COUNCIL MEMBER JULIE MENIN & ROOSEVELT ISLAND OPERATING CORPORATION PUBLIC PURPOSE FUNDS.
The 1920s was a decade of change and upheaval. While Europe was recovering from the First World War, the United States saw a period of economic growth and prosperity in which the country’s focus shifted from rural areas to the cities. It was also a time of great creativity in art and entertainment. New York City set the pace.
The focus of excitement was the theater with an unprecedented public demand for plays and performances. The era saw a burst of theatrical construction with more than thirty new venues appearing in the city. These were Broadway’s prime years. During the 1927/8 season, over 260 productions debuted there.
Times Square’s accessibility began to flourish during the 1920s when all forms of public transportation stopped at 42nd Street. Compared to other major crosstown thoroughfares, the street was developed relatively late. The first theater opened its doors in 1899 and was followed by a range of other entertainment venues alongside the development of top-end office space around Grand Central Terminal.
With the building boom taking place, the call for advertising space around Times Square increased sharply. During the night the district became covered in a sea of light, producing a huge splash of color. The dazzling illuminations were a public attraction in their own right. Leisure became a booming business. Broadway offered its audiences a rich choice of plays, musical comedies, revues, operettas and other forms of fun and entertainment. A key player in these developments was a Jewish immigrant from Hungary.
The Woods Factor
Albert Herman Woods was born Aladore Herman in January 1870 in Budapest, but his family moved to the city of New York when he was a child. Growing up in the immigrant district of Manhattan’s Lower East Side, he would roam the streets and skip school. Away from the gloomy tenements of his youth, he was lured by the gleaming lights of the theater.
Woods would become one of New York’s most prolific theatrical producers, staging over 140 plays on Broadway including a number of blockbusters. Having been involved in managing tour companies of popular melodrama at the start of his career, he soon turned his attention to Time Square.
In August 1903 he opened his first show with Theodore Kremer’s melodrama The Evil Men Do at the American Theatre in West 42nd Street (built in 1893; closed in 1930 and demolished two years later). Sensing that melodrama was losing its appeal, Woods was attracted towards an alternative genre that had previously taken Paris by storm.
Georges Feydeau was a wildly popular French playwright of the so-called “Belle Époque.” He is remembered for plays that delighted audiences from the 1890s to the pre-World War I era. His farces were marked by closely observed characters with whom his (urban) audiences could identify.
The dramatist created a new type of comedy consisting of slamming doors, mistaken identity, hidden onlookers, ridiculous dialogue, sexual innuendo, adultery and improbable plots that, once it had reached London and New York City, became known as the “bedroom farce.” Woods introduced the genre to Broadway.
Loved by the public at large, the emerging American passion for farce was closely scrutinized by anxious local authorities and angry morality crusaders. One of the attractions of the plays produced by Woods and his collaborators was pushing the boundaries of propriety and correctness beyond accepted norms. He encountered and almost encouraged legal intervention – it all added to publicity and promoted a scramble for tickets.
Let the Good Times Roll
Paul Meredith Potter, a playwright and journalist for the New York Herald, established a reputation for having turned George du Maurier’s best-selling novel Trilby – set in bohemian Paris – into a stage play in 1895. Woods took note of his success.
Having read the original version of the play Loute (1902) by the prolific Parisian farceur Pierre Vebler, he was quick to purchase its production rights. Woods commissioned Potter to adapt the play, the plot of which portrays several couples in a tangle of adulterous affairs.
Prior to opening at Weber’s Theatre on Broadway in February 1909, preview performances of The Girl from Rector’s were scheduled in Trenton, New Jersey. The opening matinee left some of the audience in shock. A group of local clergymen issued an official complaint about the play’s immoral contents upon which the police banned any further staging. The fall-out over the farce almost guaranteed its success. Once at Broadway, the show ran for 184 performances until July 1909.
Encouraged by public interest in the genre, Woods started preparation for the next salacious bedroom farce. In April 1910, he produced The Girl with the Whooping Cough, an adaptation by Stanislaus Stange of a French play. The story follows the misbehaviors of Regina as she passes whooping cough to numerous lovers. The leading role was played by Valeska Suratt, a young vaudeville actress who was billed as “The Biggest Drawing Card in New York.”
The City’s 94th Mayor William Jay Gaynor was not amused. He attacked the play as obscene and demanded its immediate closure because of sexually suggestive themes. The Police Commissioner threatened the management of the house that if the play was not taken off the repertoire, he would refuse to renew the theater’s operating license.
Woods got an injunction from the New York Supreme Court that prevented the authorities from interfering with the show, but it did not compel them to renew his license. Left without a home for his show, Woods admitted defeat and was forced to shut it down. In response he built his own venue on 42nd Street. The Eltinge Theatre was named after one of his star performers.
Julian Eltinge (real name: William Julian Dalton) had started his acting career at a young age in Boston. Vaudeville authors at the time introduced cross dressing in their acts to create exaggerated sexual stereotypes. In doing so, they broke the (theatrical) norms of the time.
Julian would become the most celebrated of female impersonators. Simply known as “Eltinge,” his skillful performances turned him into a star. In 1906 he made his London debut at the Palace Theatre on Shaftesbury Avenue to such acclaim that he was invited to give a performance at Windsor Castle in front of King Edward VII (who presented the actor with a white bulldog).
In 1911 Eltinge featured in The Fascinating Widow at the Liberty Theatre, West 42nd Street. A year to the day that the play was first staged, Woods opened his Eltinge Theatre. At the time of the occasion, Julian was America’s highest paid actor and he went on to appear in a string of musical comedies on Broadway (including The Crinoline Girl and Cousin Lucy) written to showcase his skills, although he never performed in the playhouse that carried his name.
The Demi-Virgin
The theatrical empire Woods built was at its peak in the 1920s, producing a series of hit plays that drew large audiences to Time Square.
Dramatist Avery Hopwood made his debut in 1906 when his play Clothes (1906) was produced on Broadway. Specializing in risqué comedies, he became known as “The Playboy Playwright.” His 1921 three-act bedroom farce The Demi-Virgin was inspired by an earlier and popular theatrical adaptation of Marcel Prévost’s 1894 novel Les Demi-Vierges. Woods brought Hopwood’s play to Broadway.
Prior to its debut, several preview performances were staged outside New York City, beginning a one-week run in Pittsburgh in September 1921. The play was closed by the city’s Director of Public Safety who objected to its “vulgar” dialogue. Woods gained valuable free publicity from coverage of the closure. The play eventually opened at Time Square Theatre on October 18, 1921, before being transferred to the Eltinge Theatre three weeks later.
Contemporary reviews were negative. Critics condemned the play as immoral due to its sexual situations, revealing clothes and suggestive dialogue. The farce featured a strip poker scene (a game of cards called “Stripping Cupid”). The script also alluded to a sensational rape and murder case that was unraveling in court at the time and involved the silent movie star Roscoe Conkling “Fatty” Arbuckle.
On November 3, 1921, Woods and Hopwood were summoned to the chambers of William McAdoo, New York City’s Chief Magistrate, who had received a number of complaints about the play. The New York Society for the Suppression of Vice and the Committee of Fourteen (fighting prostitution in the city) were prominent voices amongst those who opposed the show.
As Woods flatly refused to address any of the objections, McAdoo ruled that the play was obscene, describing it as “coarsely indecent, flagrantly and suggestively immoral.” The producer was accused of violating section 1140a of the New York State Penal Law which prohibited involvement in “any obscene, indecent, immoral or impure drama, play, exhibition, show or entertainment.” Having gathered on December 23, 1921, the Grand Jury dismissed the case that same day. An attempt to revoke the theater’s license also failed.
News coverage of legal actions provided ample publicity. It was reported that lengthy queues for tickets stretched outside the Eltinge Theatre after the case had opened in the magistrates’ court. Once triumphant, the production team milked the controversy to boost ticket sales (so much so, that irritated editors of TheNew York Times barred Woods name from any notices placed in its pages).
After the Broadway production ended on June 3, 1922, it had been one of the most successful plays of the season, having sold over 200,000 tickets across 268 performances. Woods then launched four road companies to present the play in other cities. The tour continued through 1923 with productions in cities such as Albany, Chicago, Los Angeles, Philadelphia and Washington.
Bust
Woods lost most of his fortune in the early 1930s and never recovered from the blow. Julian Eltinge’s career came to an end as a crackdown on homosexuality and cross-dressing prevented him from performing in costume.
The legal battle over The Demi-Virgin had reopened the discussion about strengthening the role of the censor. The call for new anti-obscenity legislation could be heard loud and clear. The economic slump of the 1930s encouraged those who were concerned about loose or lost moral values to tighten their grip and preach (and enforce) a return to more rigid standards.
Broadway’s building boom that took place in the 1920s was reversed during the Great Depression. Restaurants and theaters in Time Square were replaced by cheap eats and coarse entertainment venues. The turn-down was epitomized by the tumbling reputation of the Eltinge Theatre. It was degraded to an infamous burlesque house that, in the end, was shut down during a “public morality” campaign in 1943.
During the dark days of depression, the lights dimmed and the music died in the entertainment district. Theaters closed in rapid succession, some were demolished and others converted to cinemas. Residents who were accustomed to the “good times” of the 1920s were forced to move from the area and find more affordable properties. It would take some seven decades for Times Square to restore its reputation.
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
NEW YORK ALMANACK
Illustrations, from above: The Girl with the Whooping Cough; colored postcard of Julian Eltinge, ca. 1907 (Wellcome Collection); sheet music cover for a song from The Fascinating Widow, 1911 (Public domain); and inside page from the December 12, 1921, program for The Demi-Virgin.
THIS PUBLICATION FUNDED BY DISCRETIONARY FUNDS FROM CITY COUNCIL MEMBER JULIE MENIN & ROOSEVELT ISLAND OPERATING CORPORATION PUBLIC PURPOSE FUNDS.
Auxiliary cruiser USS Prairie at the Brooklyn Navy Yard, in 1898 (NH 44056).jpgThe U.S. Navy auxiliary cruiser USS Prairie at the New York Naval Shipyard (USA) soon after commissioning in April 1898. Several of her 6-inch guns are visible. Note also the excellent view of the large Navy Yard crane. From 1917-1922, Prairie served as destroyer tender “AD-7”.
USS New York (BB-34) launching on October 30, 1912, at the Brooklyn Navy Yard (25586501151).jpgLot 3000-S-10: USS New York (BB 34) going down the ways on October 30, 1912, at the Brooklyn Navy Yard, New York City, New York. The ship’s sponsor was Elsie Calder, the daughter of New York politician William M. Calder. Detroit Photographic Company. Courtesy of the Library of Congress. (2016/03/10).
USS Essex (CVS-9) in drydock at Brooklyn Navy Yard 1960.jpgThe U.S. Navy aircraft carrier USS Essex (CVS-9) in dry dock at the New York Naval Shipyard, in 1960. Essex had returned from her last deployment as an attack carrier (CVA) to Mayport, Florida (USA), on 26 February 1960 and was redesignated as an anti-submarine carrier on 3 March.
New York Naval Shipyard aerial photo 01 in December 1944.jpg The U.S. Navy New York Naval Shipyard, Brooklyn, New York (USA), photographed on 2 December 1944. The aircraft carriers under construction in dry docks (right center) are USS Franklin D. Roosevelt (CVB-42) and probably USS Reprisal (CV-35). USS Bon Homme Richard (CV-31) is fitting out (üpper right).
USS Fechteler (DE-157) with sister ships at the New York Naval Shipyard (USA), on 31 March 1944 (BS 65722).jpgThe U.S. Navy destroyer escort USS Fechteler (DE-157), center, lies nested with two sister ships, New York Naval Shipyard (USA), on 31 March 1944. Looking aft from the foc’sle one sees the forward 3-inch/50 caliber dual-purpose guns (Mt. 31 and Mt. 32), with the Mk. 10 depth projector sited out of sight on the main deck aft of Mt. 31. Note the guard rails to prevent gunners from firing into the ship forward of both main battery mounts, and the floater net baskets. Twenty-millimeter Oerlikon machine guns are visible on the same level as Mt. 32 and the next deck above. Fechteler had just completed a convoy escort deployment from Londonberry, North Ireland. After initially arriving in Londonberry on 6 March 1944, she joined the escort of a New York-bound convoy, reaching the United States 22 March 1944.
New York Naval Shipyard aerial photo 01 in April 1945.jpg The U.S. Navy New York Naval Shipyard, Brooklyn, New York (USA), photographed from 300 m altitude, looking west, 15 April 1945. The ships in the large dry docks in center are (left to right): USS Houston (CL-81) and the aircraft carriers USS Franklin D. Roosevelt (CVB-42) and USS Reprisal (CV-35).
View of crane at Brooklyn Navy Yard in May 1952.jpg The bow of the U.S. Navy aircraft carrier USS Hornet (CV-12) ist transprted from the New York Naval Shipyard to be fitted to USS Wasp (CV-18) in drydock at Bayonne, New Jersey (USA), in May 1952. Wasp collided with USS Hobson (DMS-26) on 26 April 1952 while conducting night flying operations in the Atlantic, en route to Gibraltar. Hobson was cut in two and sank, 61 men of her crew could be rescued, but 176 were lost. Wasp sustained no personnel casualties but her bow was severely damaged. As the carrier was urgently needed for duty in the Mediterranean, Wasp entered drydock at Bayonne, New Jersey (USA), on 8 May. Her damaged bow was immediately cleared out with blow torches and the following day she received the bow of USS Hornet (CV-12) which was undergoing conversion at the Brooklyn Navy Yard, New York. Her repair was completed in only 10 days, enabling the carrier to get underway on 21 May and resume her deployment just three days later.Note the aircraft carrier USS Ticonderoga (CV-14) in the right background which began her SCB-27C modernization at the New York Navy Yard on 1 April 1952.
USS Fiske (DD-842) at the New York Naval Shipyard c1965.jpgThe U.S. Navy destroyer USS Fiske (DD-842) at the New York Naval Shipyard (USA), following her FRAM I modernization, in late 1964 or early 1965. Thje destroyer escort USS Albert T. Harris (DE-447) is visble in the background.
FRIDAY PHOTO OF THE DAY COMMEMORATIVE PLAQUE IN RIHS KIOSK PLACED BY SOCIETY OF PROFESSIONAL JOURNALISTS
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
WIKIMEDIA COMMONS
THIS PUBLICATION FUNDED BY DISCRETIONARY FUNDS FROM CITY COUNCIL MEMBER JULIE MENIN & ROOSEVELT ISLAND OPERATING CORPORATION PUBLIC PURPOSE FUNDS.
What That Quilt Knows About Me explores the deeply personal and emotional power associated with the experience of making and living with quilts. The exhibition’s title conveys the idea that quilts have the capacity for “knowing” or containing information about the human experience. Reflecting on this sentiment, the exhibition presents quilts as collections of intimate stories.
Spanning from the 19th through 21st centuries, the works on view will reveal a range of poignant and sometimes unexpected biographies. From a pair of enslaved sisters in antebellum Kentucky to a convalescent British soldier during the Crimean War, the exhibition explores stories associated with both the makers and recipients of the works. On a quilt top from the 1890s, we find a surface bursting with narratives; in an example by Hystercine Rankin, a grid of small vignettes depicts scenes of family life defined by faith and toil.
The exhibition also explores how artists have continually drawn inspiration from and pushed the boundaries of quilt-making to incorporate surprising materials and ideas, inviting audiences to consider these objects as archives of personal human experiences. Dindga McCannon’s Mary Lou Williams, a quilt-like work, is created with paint, photographs, and fibers, as a tribute to the jazz musician and cultural environment of Harlem. Jessie Dunahoo uses plastic bags and yarn to evoke quilt-like coverings that swath the interior surfaces of his home.
KALEIDOSCOPE XVI MORE IS MORE PAULA NADELSON
UNTITLED FAMILY HISTORY QUILT HYSTERCINE RANKIN
SOLDIERS QUITLT SQUARE WITHIN A SQUARE ARTIST UNIDENTIFIED
LOUNGE IN NEW YORK TRAINING SCHOOL FOR NURSES NOW THE ABANDONED SMALLPOX HOSPITAL
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
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
In conjunction with the exhibition, listen to recordings from the Museum’s Oral History project featuring:
Dr. Diana Baird N’Diaye, artist and Senior Folklife Curator, Smithsonian Center for Folklife and Cultural Heritage
The exhibition is curated by Emelie Gevalt, Curatorial Chair for Collections and Curator of Folk Art at the American Folk Art Museum (AFAM) and Sadé Ayorinde, Warren Family Assistant Curator.
THIS PUBLICATION FUNDED BY DISCRETIONARY FUNDS FROM CITY COUNCIL MEMBER JULIE MENIN & ROOSEVELT ISLAND OPERATING CORPORATION PUBLIC PURPOSE FUNDS.
Born on April 18, 1889, in Remagen am Rhein into a Catholic family, Karl Nierendorf was educated in Cologne. He worked as a banker before World War I, but his career was disrupted in 1913 by the social upheaval in the Weimar Republic. One of his acquaintances, an art collector, introduced him to the Swiss-born German painter Paul Klee who persuaded him to attempt a career as an art dealer. The two would remain close. When Klee died in June 1940, Nierendorf published Paul Klee Paintings Watercolors 1913 to 1939 (New York: Oxford UP, 1941) as a tribute and an act of friendship.
In 1920 Karl and his younger brother Josef began a career in the art trade and they established a pre-war reputation for championing work of the Expressionist group Der Blaue Reiter (Blue Rider). The brothers organized modernist exhibitions, lectures, concerts and film screenings.
Described as both a faithful patron of artists and an astute businessman, Karl Nierendorf remained indefatigable in promoting the avant-garde throughout his nearly thirty-year career as a dealer, first in Berlin and later in Manhattan. He played a significant role in the migration of European modern art to New York.
From Cologne to Berlin
Karl and Josef Nierendorf opened their first gallery in Cologne in 1920. The brothers specialized in Expressionist watercolors and drawings. In 1923 they moved their exhibition space briefly to Düsseldorf, before settling in Berlin.
Having taken over J.B. Neumann’s Graphisches Kabinett following the latter’s departure for New York, the brothers renamed the establishment Galerie Neumann-Nierendorf. Located at 32 Lützowstrasse in the vicinity of prominent dealers such as Alfred Flechtheim and Paul Cassirer, their firm presented itself as the main promoter of modernist art.
In 1933 Neumann and Nierendorf dissolved their association and the gallery was renamed Galerie Nierendorf. The onset of the Great Depression combined with the rise of fascism badly affected all those promoting contemporary art in Germany. Nazi hatred of Modernism made it increasingly difficult to organize exhibitions or even display paintings.
The tense atmosphere took its toll on Karl Nierendorf who, in 1934, was struck by a heart attack. In the spring of 1936 he took a long break in the United States, making stops in New York and Los Angeles. His doctors had advised him that the sea voyage might improve his health, but the journey also offered him a chance to explore the American art market. Josef remained in Germany to maintain the operations of the Berlin gallery until it was forced to close in 1939.
Banned Art
Karl sailed from Hamburg to New York on the “Blue Riband” liner SS Europa of the Norddeutscher Lloyd (NDL). On board he met Elfriede Fischinger, wife of avant-garde filmmaker and painter Oskar Fischinger who had won fame for creating the extra-terrestrial special effects in Fritz Lang’s Frau im Mond (Woman in the Moon), one of the first science fiction films to hit the screen in 1929.
As the Nazis condemned his work, Oskar had accepted a contract from Paramount Studios and preceded his family to Hollywood. Forty-two paintings by artists deemed “degenerate” by the Nazis also arrived in the United States ahead of Nierendorf, hidden in Fischinger’s household effects that Paramount had shipped from Germany. Modern art was exiled to the United States.
Sensing new opportunities in a politically open environment, Karl did not return to Berlin and decided to settle in Manhattan. In January 1937 he opened the Nierendorf Gallery at 20 West 53rd Street. Later that year, he found new premises amid the bustling gallery scene on East 57th Street. His ambition was to introduce German experimental art to an American audience.
In Manhattan, Nierendorf joined a growing community of émigré artists and art dealers, including J.B. Neumann and Curt Valentin. He was reunited with several artists he had promoted in Germany who had moved to New York following the Nazi attack on modernist artists. Josef Scharl exhibited regularly at his gallery as did Lyonel Feininger, one of the pioneers of Bauhaus.
Nierendorf felt strongly that the migration of artists and dealers from Europe provided a unique opportunity for the re-creation of modernist art under new conditions. We can develop a very special atmosphere here, he suggested in the autumn of 1937 to Katherine Sophie Dreier, co-founder of the Société Anonyme (America’s first “museum of modern art” at 19 East 47th Street), the “future of culture and intellectual development lies in America.”
Group exhibitions like “Unity in Diversity” (November 1942) and “Gestation-Formation” (March 1944), emphasized that Nierendorf was keen to blend works of the European and American avant-garde. He applied artistic standards only. Considerations of nationality, gender or creed never played a part in his promotion of artists. Karl was one of those exiled dealers who put New York at the center of the art world away from Paris and Berlin. Manhattan’s 57th Street replaced Montmartre.
In the autumn of 1945 his gallery launched the landmark exhibition “Forbidden Art in the Third Reich.” It featured the work of artists who had been persecuted in Nazi Germany leading to the closure of avant-garde art galleries in Berlin, Munich and elsewhere. The show created shock and excitement. Many art critics shared the observation that “what Germany has lost, the United States and the world have gained.”
Rebay & Guggenheim
Hilla Rebay (von Ehrenwiesen) was born into a minor aristocratic family in Strasbourg, Alsace, then part of Imperial Germany. In 1908 she began formal art studies in Cologne and a year later enrolled at the Académie Julian in Paris, a private and female friendly school for art students. The institution was also open to foreign (mainly American) students.
In 1910 she traveled to Munich to study at the progressive Debschitz-Schule which maintained links with the city’s emerging modernist movement (Ernst Ludwig Kirchner was a former pupil; Paul Klee had been a member of staff, although briefly).
Back in Cologne in 1912, she visited a traveling exhibition of Futurist artists which made a deep impact. The experience would influence her own creative work and her acquisition policies in a later capacity as a collector and curator. In 1915, with World War I raging, she traveled to Zurich, a hub of cosmopolitan creative activity. Due to Switzerland’s neutrality many artists and intellectuals had sought refuge in the city.
In Zurich she met fellow Alsatian artist Jean (Hans) Arp, the dynamic co-founder of the Dada movement. Arp gave her a copy of Vassily Kandinsky’s Über das Geistige in der Kunst (Concerning the Spiritual in Art), published in 1911. Three decades later, she would translate and publish Kandinsky’s essay on behalf of the Guggenheim Foundation.
Her relationship with Arp ended in the spring of 1917, but not before he had introduced her to Rudolf Bauer, a Prussian-born abstract painter who was deeply involved with Berlin’s avant-garde. Sharing similar ideas about the future direction of art, the two embarked upon a long but difficult relationship and collaboration. In the end his jealousy and misogyny became too much to bear for this talented woman.
In 1927 Hilla moved to New York, settled in an apartment of the Studio Towers atop Carnegie Hall on Seventh Avenue, and began exhibiting her work. She had brought a number of Rudolf Bauer’s paintings with her. When in 1928 she was commissioned to paint a portrait of the businessman and art collector Solomon Guggenheim, the Bauer paintings on her studio wall sparked his interest. This encounter led to a meaningful discussion on contemporary art and initiated a lifelong personal and professional relationship.
Solomon Robert Guggenheim, a mining magnate of Swiss Ashkenazi descent, began amassing a collection of non-objective art. In his obsessional pursuit of paintings, Hilla Rebay became his advisor and driving force. Using her range of contacts in Europe, Guggenheim purchased works by artists such as Marc Chagall, Robert Delaunay, Fernand Léger and Laszlo Moholy-Nagy. Guggenheim and Rebay were driven by a single shared ambition: to create a “temple of non-objectivity.”
In 1930, Hilla accompanied Guggenheim and his wife Irene on a visit to Germany. The trio used the opportunity to arrange a meeting with Vassily Kandinsky who, at the time, was teaching at the Dessau Bauhaus. On that occasion Guggenheim purchased “Komposition 8” from him, the first of more than 150 works by the artist that would enter the Guggenheim Museum holdings over the years.
By 1930/1 the entire collection was housed at Solomon’s suite in New York’s Plaza Hotel and open to the public by appointment.
Guggenheim Foundation
Karl Nierendorf’s prominence as an art dealer led to collaboration with a number of museum directors who were eager to add modernist works of art to their collections. It was inevitable that he and Hilla would cross paths in Manhattan. Nierendorf was to become a vital source for Guggenheim’s acquisitions.
The Guggenheim Foundation was created in 1937 for the “promotion and encouragement of art and education in art and the enlightenment of the public.” Its main aim was the establishment of a museum, the nucleus of which would be Guggenheim’s collection of modernist art.
For the next two decades, Hilla zealously promoted non-objective painting, organizing exhibitions, loans and lectures on the subject. The Museum of Non-Objective Painting was opened in 1939 in temporary quarters on East 54th Street with Hilla Rebay as its first director.
In 1943, Hilla began to make plans for a permanent home for the collection and asked Frank Lloyd Wright to design a monument celebrating the spirit of modernist art. Although the site at the corner of 89th Street & Fifth Avenue was chosen as early as 1944, it took another fifteen years before the museum was finally completed.
The end of war allowed for the reopening of foreign art markets. With the freedom to travel again, Nierendorf returned to Europe in the spring of 1946. He visited family and friends and made a courtesy visit to Hilla Rebay’s relatives. He returned to New York in September 1947 in possession of more than one hundred works from the Klee estate and a large purchase from the Ernst Ludwig Kirchner holdings, partly acquired on behalf of the Guggenheim Foundation.
Shortly after his return from Europe, Karl suffered a fatal heart attack. As he had not executed a will and his recent acquisitions for the Foundation had not yet been delivered, it was decided in early 1948 that Guggenheim would purchase his entire estate from the State of New York. At a stroke, the Museum became a prominent center of European Expressionism and Surrealism.
Karl Nierendorf was a pioneering gallerist. He brought to Manhattan an unwavering dedication to modern art and succeeded in building a bridge between European artists and emerging American talent. He enabled the gradual transfer of the avant-garde from Paris and Berlin to Manhattan.
ICE-T AT RIHS KIOSK DURING SHOOT OF LAW AND ORDER SVU, IN 2014
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
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
NEW YORK ALMANACK
Illustrations, from above: SS Europa prior to her maiden voyage in March 1930 (Norddeutscher Lloyd); portrait of Karl Nierendorf, 1923 by Otto Dix (Unknown location; Artists Rights Society, New York); catalogue of Nierendorf’s Forbidden Art exhibition (Guggenheim Archives, New York); Hilla Rebay at work in her studio; Guggenheim’s suite in New York’s Plaza Hotel; and Komposition 8, 1923 by Vassily Kandinsky (Guggenheim Museum, New York).
THIS PUBLICATION FUNDED BY DISCRETIONARY FUNDS FROM CITY COUNCIL MEMBER JULIE MENIN & ROOSEVELT ISLAND OPERATING CORPORATION PUBLIC PURPOSE FUNDS.
Some long-established New York City neighborhoods got their names from nearby natural landmarks; others took the moniker of an early landowner or the landowner’s hometown in England or Holland.
But the story behind the name Astoria, in Queens, is a little more about wheeling and dealing. It focuses on an ambitious 19th century developer who was hoping that New York’s richest man, John Jacob Astor, would invest thousands of dollars to help build the neighborhood if it carried Astor’s name.
First, a brief history of the East River enclave that would become Astoria. Colonized by the Dutch in the early 17th century, the area was occupied by William Hallett’s vast farm. Hallett lent his name to what was then called Hallett’s (also spelled Hallet’s or Halletts) Cove, which is marked on the 1873 map below.
“Over the next 100 years, Hallett and his descendants developed the area into a thriving farming community,” wrote Ilana Teitel in a piece on the website of the Old Astoria Neighborhood Association. “Early settlers transported grains, livestock, timber, and firewood across the river from Hallets Cove to the growing city of New Amsterdam.”
By the early 19th century, the Hallett family sold off much of their farmland. Wealthy Manhattanites replaced the farm fields with summer villas, turning Hallet’s Cove into a placid resort area for boating and breezy river strolls.
The slow pace of the area began to change with the arrival of Stephen Halsey in 1835. A fur trader, Halsey had big plans for Hallett’s Cove. His idea was to develop it into a modern town with houses, businesses, churches, and factories. But he needed money to get things going.
That’s where Astor (above) came in. “Halsey had connections to the biggest fur trader of the time, John Jacob Astor,” explained Teitel. “He proposed that Astor donate $2,000 towards the construction of a new Episcopal female seminary in exchange for naming the village after him.”
An 1896 article in the New York Times recalls a slightly different story, with Halsey proposing to Astor that he contribute $10,000 to $15,000. In return, Hallett’s Cove would bear his name.
What was Astor’s response to this idea, which he may have pondered across the East River in his Manhattan country estate house (appropriately named Hellgate, above) off today’s East 87th Street? Teitel wrote that Astor ponied up just $500.
Most sources point out that Astor never visited the enclave that would take his name. But the Times has it that Halsey brought Astor to Hallett’s Cove and showed him around.
“Shrewd old Astor looked about and found that the first church in Astoria was just struggling into existence—St. George’s Episcopal—so he contributed just $50 toward its erection,” stated the Times. “He got the honor of having the village named after him, the church got the $50, and the only unhappy people recorded were Mr. Halsey and his fellow village trustees.”
Even with so little of Astor’s cash, however, Astoria thrived—becoming a diverse residential suburb and manufacturing hub in the consolidated New York City on the 20th century (above, in 1915).
Halsey is also remembered; his name graces a junior high school across the borough in Rego Park. And Hallett’s Cove survives as Hallett’s Point, a luxury high rise.
Years ago I was visiting the Dutch Reformed Church near St. Georges Church (where many Blackwell’s are buried). In the back of the reformed church was an obelisk that was laid on the ground with the name Halsey on it. Here is a story about that monument.
Most historians believe the grave of Astoria’s founding father Stephen Halsey is somewhere in Astoria; but finding where is the difficulty.
The general consensus is that he and possibly his family members’ graves are buried in the overgrown backyard of the First Reform Church of Astoria on the historical manor-house-lined 12th Street. That entire area was built up thanks to Halsey’s efforts, and he donated money to the Reform Church’s congregation to build their first chapel at the site in the 1830s.
“I find this very intriguing,” said the church’s pastor, Reverend Dwayne Jackson. “If the founding father is in our backyard then we’re, in a way, the center of the community.”
Over the last few decades, the backyard of the church has become overgrown, due to declining membership and an aging, busy congregation. If the Halsey’s are there, it’s unclear where.
But a couple of months ago, while some congregation members were clearing away some of the vines and dead branches to make a little garden, they discovered a long, triangular monument that had apparently fallen over sideways at some point and buried deep in the ground.
It turned out to be a cemetery marker. No engraving is visible on the part of the obelisk that is above ground, but many historians believe it might be another key to Halsey.
In his book “300 Years of Long Island City, 1630-1930,” Queens historian Vincent Seyfried shows a photograph of a square object that still remains in the churchyard and identifies it as the stone covering of the Halsey family vault.
But in the photograph, the writing on the stone is arguably legible and today the only word clearly visible is “vault.”
Rumors have it that the Halsey’s remains were moved from the churchyard at some point. Other researchers, including Jim Driscoll of the Queens Historical Society, say they’ve seen some references inferring that Stephen Halsey was first buried elsewhere and then moved to the church.
Halsey was born in 1798 and made a fortune as a fur trader. In the 1830s he had a vision for what is now the Western Queens waterfront and convinced investors and developers to move to the area to set up a town.
Halsey had the idea of naming the place after John Jacob Astor, the famed millionaire, believing that doing so would convince Astor to invest in the new village.
Astor, though, was only mildly interested, and donated only $500 to the Young Women’s Seminary of Newtown.
Records show that there may have been some controversy over the naming of the new town, but in the end, Halsey won and Astoria Village was incorporated by the state Legislature in 1839.
It was also in 1839 when the First Reform Church of Astoria was given money by Halsey for its new chapel on 12th Street. That building stood until 1888, when a fire destroyed it. The present chapel was built in 1888.
Halsey is credited by many historians for initiating the ferry service from Astoria to Manhattan that ran until Robert Moses stopped it in the 1930s.
Halsey died in 1875, an honored man.
Lula Thomas has been a member of the church’s congregation for 40 years. She said a former pastor told her in the 1970s that there was someone very famous buried behind the church somewhere.
When the obelisk was found two months ago, church members were excited, though they don’t know how to proceed.
Seyfried was very surprised to hear about the obelisk, saying that it was either not there or buried and so not visible when he visited the churchyard in the 1970s.
Historians like Bob Singleton and Debbie Van Cura of the Greater Astoria Historical Society believe that the monument could possibly be excavated as part of a movement already underway to historically revitalize the neighborhood.
The Greater Astoria Historical Society has been one of several citywide historical groups that are supporting a drive to landmark the historic 12th Street area, which is lined with impressive 19th century wooden homes and known as Old Astoria Village.
Owners of the old houses, distressed by recent sales to developers and demolitions in their once-quiet neighborhoods, have become active in the landmarking efforts.
“The real story is that Halsey moved to Astoria because he thought it was the greatest place to be,” Van Cura said. “We still think it is.”
North of Main Street showing AVAC being built with one building from the FDNY Training Center still standing. On the west side is the future site of Manhattan Park. In the distance is the elevator tower to the water tunnel construction site.
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
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
EPHEMERAL NEW YORK
6 Responses to “The scheme behind the way Astoria got its name”
Mykola Mick Dementiuk Says: May 1, 2023 at 5:36 am | ReplyIn the 1960-70s many Ukrainian people were fleeing from the Lower East Side due to the economic decline of the area and relocating to Astoria, Queens, which offered them better housing and living conditions. I suppose that’s true, but I stayed on the Lower East Side from the 1950s to the late 1990s; no regrets there.
ephemeralnewyork Says: May 1, 2023 at 1:50 pm | ReplyIt’s a true diverse neighborhood, but of course known for its Greek community. People I know who live there consider it the perfect New York City nabe, though it’s getting pricey, I hear…
Louis DeMonte Says: May 1, 2023 at 9:09 am | ReplyThe female seminary eventually became the rectory of St. George’s church. Eventually the parish chose to demolish it in favor or erecting senior housing on the site. The ensuing construction displaced several graves and the building wrapped around the church to cover the stained glass windows behind the altar. We can thank the foot dragging of Queens preservation and the short sightedness of Gloria d’Amico for the destruction of the building that Astoria was named for. Very sad…
Bob Singleton Says: May 1, 2023 at 10:32 am | ReplyGreater Astoria Historical Society:This was a nice article that also includes the various details that pop up with each retelling of the story.Halsey, who used to live in Flushing, took the boat home each day he admired the peninsula and thought it would make a great investment. His older brother, John Cook Halsey, also worked for Astor and had founded a trading post in Oregon which he named ‘Astoria.’ (told by a family member but is not mentioned in the wiki entry for Astoria OR)When Stephen told Astor his idea of naming the community, Astor was alledged to have said that he had no intention on “crossing the river to see the place” (perhaps because he could already see it from his front porch at Hell Gate!) but he contributed money for a ‘Female Academy’. Currier and Ives did a print of it – it later became the rectory for St George’s Church. (link below)https://www.prints-online.com/astoria-institute-education-young-ladies-7254659.htmlAttempts to save the buidling or at least get inside to document it were brushed aside and it was torn down a few years ago.
ephemeralnewyork Says: May 1, 2023 at 1:54 pm | ReplyWhat a shame about the rectory. But thanks so much for filling out the story and sharing your Astoria knowledge.
THIS PUBLICATION FUNDED BY DISCRETIONARY FUNDS FROM CITY COUNCIL MEMBER JULIE MENIN & ROOSEVELT ISLAND OPERATING CORPORATION PUBLIC PURPOSE FUNDS.
Before its burial, Sunswick Creek’s source was located close to 21st Street north of what is now the Queensboro Bridge and Queens Plaza. The creek’s name may have originated from the Algonquin word “Sunkisq,” which translated to “Woman Chief” or “Sachem’s Wife.” In 1664, the land on the northern shore of the creek was purchased by British settler William Hallet from two native chiefs named Shawestcont and Erramorhar, and the peninsula was renamed Hallets Cove. Due to increased industrialization, the lack of a proper sewage system, and the high population density of Long Island City and nearby Astoria, Sunswick Creek became heavily polluted by the 1860s and 1870s. After the outbreak of diseases in 1871 and 1875, the marshes surrounding the creek were drained in 1879. By 1893, the creek had been diverted into one of the new sewage system’s brick tunnels.
In 1915, protest arose among the residents of Ravenswood over the infestation of the creek’s tide gates by mosquitos, arguing to the New York City Board of Health that the tide gates should be opened as they were actually making the water stagnant and trapping the mosquitoes inside the creek. One year later in April 1916, residents broke down the tide gates themselves using axes, which prompted the New York City health commissioner to remark that the residents preferred “to live like hogs.” By the end of 1916, New York City’s government proposed closing the creek and mandated households to divert their sewage elsewhere. Today, the creek exists underground as part of a sewage tunnel, with Socrates Sculpture Park occupying what was once the creek’s mouth.
WEEKEND PHOTO UNION STATION, WASHINGTON, DC
ANDY SPARBERG, GLORIA HERMAN AND NINA LUBLIN 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
All image are copyrighted (c) Roosevelt Island Historical Society unless otherwise indicated
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
UNTAPPED NEW YORK
THIS PUBLICATION FUNDED BY DISCRETIONARY FUNDS FROM CITY COUNCIL MEMBER JULIE MENIN & ROOSEVELT ISLAND OPERATING CORPORATION PUBLIC PURPOSE FUNDS.
Every New York City borough has its fair share of lost mansions. Today, we are revisiting the lost mansions of Queens. Now New York City’s most diverse borough and the second most populated, the development of Queens began with farmland and suburbs. Western areas of Queens, which offered an easy commute into Manhattan but lots of land to spread out on, attracted the wealthy families of New York. There are still standalone mansions that you can spot throughout the borough, but here we revisit the country estates and follies that have been long forgotten…
BODINE CASTLE LONG ISLAND CITY
This fantastical castle has inspired fantastical backstories. It was rumored that it was built by a fleeing French nobleman or that it was the headquarters of a secret society. The truth, however, is that it was built by a wealthy grocer, John Bodine, in 1853. Located at 43-16 Vernon Boulevard in Long Island City, the mansion was made of immense granite blocks and had a copper roof. It boasted a crenelated watchtower, Gothic windows, and a tunnel to the beach. These tunnels were a popular feature of grand mansions along the East River. These tunnels were used by servants to go back and forth from the house to the beach to serve guests while they lounged or partied.
John W. Rapp made his fortune in metal manufacturing. His United Metal Products Company produced steel parts for fireproof buildings according to the New York Times. His products were integral to the construction of such landmarks as the Woolworth Building (which was known for its advanced fireproofing methods) and the Metropolitan Life Insurance Building. The business occupied ten acres of land in College Point, including the former factory of Rhedania Silk Mills. His success in business allowed Rapp to purchase an opulent home close to his business. In the early 1900s, he moved into the mansion seen above with his new wife, Corine.
Located on First Avenue in College Point (now 14th Avenue), this lost mansion of Queens had lovely manicured gardens, a mansard roof, and a large porch. According to an article in the New York Heraldannouncing Rapp’s death in 1922, the metal mogul owned 500 acres in College Point and Flushing. The house was eventually demolished and the area was redeveloped.
The mansion on the right side of this photograph was built by merchant Horace Whittemore around 1840 in the suburbs of Astoria, Queens. Astoria offered expansive plots of land within a short distance of Manhattan, which could be easily accessed across the East River. This classical Greek revival villa had unobstructed views of the river from its spot on what were Perrot Avenue and Franklin Street (now 27th Avenue). The Met Museum describes the interior layout of the home:
Upon ascending the outside staircase at the front of the house, traversing the portico, and entering the first floor, visitors were welcomed into a central hall flanked on the right by a pair of formal parlors and on the left by a family living room and a billiards room. On the ground level below were the dining room, kitchen, and pantries. Five family bedrooms were located on the second floor, and the third floor, with its low ceiling and small horizontal slot windows, likely housed the servants’ quarters.
Franklin Avenue in the 1800s was lined with standalone mansions. You can still see some grand homes along 12th Street in Astoria. The Whittmore House was later known as the La Roque Mansion for its second owner. The house was demolished in 1965. You can get a glimpse of what this opulent home looked like on the inside with a visit to The Met. In the American Wing, you can see the parlor with architectural details from inside the mansion. Two parlors from the home were donated to the museum by the mansion’s final owners, the Molteni family.
SUNSWICK, ASTORIA
One of the earliest grand estates to appear in Astoria, especially around the coast near today’s Hallet’s Point, was that of Major John Delafield and his wife, Ann Hallett. Called Sunswick, their home was built in 1792, faced the East River, and was backed by a wide expanse of farmland. It was named for a now-buried nearby creek.
Delafield fell on hard financial times in the early 1800s and was forced to sell his estate to noted mineralogist Colonel George Gibbs. Gibbs and his family were known for their hospitality at Sunswick. Upon GIbbs’ death, the land was subdivided into four lots. There were multiple owners after that and the house was eventually torn down in the 1920s.
JOSIAH BLACKWELL HOUSE, ASTORIA
Another grand mansion that once stood along the former Franklin Avenue in Astoria was the Josiah Blackwell House. Located around what is today 27th Ave and 8th Street, the home belonged to a decsenadnat of Robert Blackwell, owner of Blackwell’s Island, now Roosevelt Island. The image of the home above was captured in 1937 by photographer Berenice Abbott.
The lost Queens mansion in Astoria remained in the family until the early 1920s when it was sold and converted to a boarding house. It was demolished and replaced by the Astoria Houses in the 1940s.
THE CHISHOLM MANSION
Hermon A. MacNeil Park now stands at the site of the form Chisholm Mansion. The land was originally purchased in 1835 by Reverend William Augustus Muhlenberg for a new stone Episcopal seminary. When the Panic of 1837 hit, his plans were scrapped and the land was sold to his sister, Mrs. John Rogers. She used the leftover stone from the abandoned school project to build her own mansion, at the highest point on the grounds, in 1848.
Mrs. Rogers later gave the mansion to her daughter Mary as a wedding gift when she married William F. Chisolm. The family remained in the home until 1930, when it was acquired by the City of New York. Mayor Fioerello LaGuardia used the mansion as a “summer City Hall” in 1937. Sadly, the mansion was demolished between 1939 and 1941. Today, a flagpole in the park marks where it once stood.
OUR FRIDAY WENT OUT TOO LATE, SO ABOVE IS OUR PHOTO AGAIN.
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
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
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THIS PUBLICATION FUNDED BY DISCRETIONARY FUNDS FROM CITY COUNCIL MEMBER JULIE MENIN & ROOSEVELT ISLAND OPERATING CORPORATION PUBLIC PURPOSE FUNDS.
Andrew Frasz, courtesy of the High Line
ephemeralnewyork Says:
Louis DeMonte Says:
