Frederick Law Olmsted, Sr. was the mastermind behind some of New York City’s most important parks and nature spots, as well as some more obscure locations. Olmsted, a Connecticut native who often collaborated with Calvert Vaux, spearheaded projects such as Central Park and Prospect Park, as well as Boston’s Emerald Necklace and the Biltmore in North Carolina, earning him the nickname of “Father of Landscape Architecture.” He was born exactly 200 years ago today, on April 26, 1822.
In honor of his 200-year legacy, we compiled a list of locations designed by Frederick Law Olmsted across the city and surrounding area. Olmsted’s sons kept his passion and talent alive, collaborating on designs for Fort Tryon Park, the New York Botanical Garden, Forest Hills Gardens, and the Frick Collection. Over 300 North American landscapes are listed on the Cultural Landscape Foundation’s new What’s Out There Olmsted digital guide. What’s Out There Olmsted includes a searchable database of North American landscapes and nearly 100 biographical entries about the Olmsted family and firms. NYC Parks is launching Olmsted 200 tapping into his contributions to New York’s elaborate green spaces as well.
“The impact of Frederick Law Olmsted, Sr., on the nation’s identity and the profession of landscape architecture is inestimable,” said Charles A. Birnbaum, TCLF’s President and CEO. “What’s Out There Olmsted provides easy access to a broad range of landscapes designed by Olmsted, Sr., and his successor firms and opportunities to discover the people associated with them.”
Central Park
In 1857, four years after the idea for the park was approved, Frederick Law Olmsted and Calvert Vaux won a design competition for Central Park with their “Greensward Plan,” beating out 32 other designs. Then-mayor Fernando Wood appointed Egbert Ludovicus Viele as the park’s chief engineer, yet his plan for the park was quickly disregarded and a competition to decide the winning plan was launched. The plan called for four sunken transverse roadways and distinct sections, unlike most other plans which focused on symmetry. Olmsted cited his inspiration as a trip to Birkenhead Park near Liverpool, England.
Olmsted and Vaux were assisted by board member Andrew Haswell Green, who led the Central Park Commission and directed certain parts of the construction. The park was difficult to construct because of its rocky and swampy landscape, resulting in the use of more gunpowder than during the Battle of Gettysburg. Over 18,500 cubic yards of soil were brought in from Long Island and New Jersey, and the entire construction project called for over 20,000 workers. The plan also led to the displacement of communities who lived in small villages, including residents of Seneca Village and Pigtown. Olmsted often clashed with park commissioners, who tried to cut out sections of the Greensward Plan due to budget concerns. Olmsted resigned as superintendent in 1862, while Vaux resigned the next year due to Green’s growing power. The Sheep Meadow, Belvedere Castle, and McGowan’s Pass were not part of the original plan.
Prospect Park and Grand Army Plaza
Shortly after their design for Central Park, Frederick Law Olmsted and Calvert Vaux laid out plans for Prospect Park in Brooklyn, which opened in 1867. Brooklyn, as the world’s first commuter suburb at the time, was believed to have become a resort-like escape from the hustle and bustle of Manhattan, and a park was just what Brooklyn needed. Viele, the first chief engineer of Central Park, drew plans for Prospect Park in 1860, but the Civil War paused further activity. Vaux, who reviewed Viele’s plan in 1865, devised a more successful plan with three distinctive regions, including an oval at the northern end of the park that would become Grand Army Plaza.
Vaux’s revisions faced harsh criticism, but he recruited Olmsted and formally presented the plan in 1866. Construction began in June 1866, employing up to 2,000 workers at any one time who removed pits, swamps, and some trees. The first section of the park opened on October 19, 1867, pulling in 100,000 people per month, and by 1871 after some expansion, monthly numbers were up to 250,000. Most of the park was complete in 1873, mostly keeping to Vaux and Olmsted’s original plan, though the Panic of 1873 made it so that Olmsted and Vaux stopped collaborating on the park’s construction. Additionally, Olmsted and Vaux’s design for Grand Army Plaza included only the Fountain of the Golden Spray, as well as surrounding earth embankments. James S. T. Stranahan, then President of the Brooklyn Board of Park Commissioners, was often considered the “Father of Prospect Park.”
Fort Greene Park
The Fort Greene Park we know today was built on the land of the former Fort Putnam, named for George Washington’s Chief of Engineers Rufus Putnam, which was later renamed for Nathanael Greene in 1812. Frederick Law Olmsted and Calvert Vaux redesigned the park in 1867, around when the first section of Prospect Park opened to the public. At the top of the central hill was a walkway that approached two flights of steps leading to a circular parade ground. The rest of the hilly site was designed to have quaint walkways looking over grassy spaces.
Additionally, Olmsted and Vaux collaborated on a vault for the Prison Ship Martyrs’ Monument, commemorating the more than 11,500 American prisoners of war who died in captivity while on British prison ships during the Revolutionary War. Prisoners were kept aboard the HMS Jersey, Falmouth, Hope, and other ships, some of which were maintained in New York Harbor. Unfortunately, many bodies were thrown overboard, and during the construction of the Brooklyn Navy Yard, many of these remains were uncovered and put into boxes and casks. A small number of remains were interred in a crypt beneath the base of the monument. Olmsted and Vaux were originally tasked with designing the entire monument, including the crypt, but the final design was put forward by Stanford White. The monument stands 149 feet high and consists of a granite Doric column.
Morningside Park
The idea for Morningside Park was proposed in 1867 by the Central Park commissioners, and the city later commissioned Frederick Law Olmsted and Calvert Vaux to design the park in 1873. Andrew Haswell Green, the mastermind behind Central Park, proposed that a park be built in Morningside Heights to avoid expanding the Manhattan street grid across steep terrain. By September 1873, Olmsted was dropped as superintendent of other parks to focus all efforts on Morningside Park, focusing on scenery due to terrain limitations. His design included a lawn at the park’s north end, a retaining wall with staircases, and ornate balconies.The Panic of 1873 essentially halted construction, not just for that year but for the next 14 years. Jacob Wrey Mould, who contributed to the design of Central Park, was appointed the new architect of the park in 1880. Plans for Mould’s design, which featured a retaining wall at Morningside Drive with granite stairs and railings, were approved in August 1881, with additional plans submitted the next year. The next few years of the project were slow, as new plans were submitted by Julius Munckwitz. Stairways were built starting in 1885, and Mould died the following year. In 1887, Olmsted was asked to draft new plans for the park, but he refused unless Vaux also worked on it. After some debate, both were allowed to work on plans, which were modified due to the construction of the nearby elevated railway station. While Olmsted wanted the area to remain naturalistic, Vaux wanted additional paths added. Most construction work was completed by the early 1890s, almost 20 years after Olmsted first submitted plans.
Riverside Park and Drive
Original plans for Riverside Park were devised in the early 1870s, with plans for the park to run in a straight line with a retaining wall. Fearing how to handle the western side of Manhattan’s topography, Manhattan park commissioners selected Frederick Law Olmsted to redesign the park. Olmsted first devised creating a main road that extended from 72nd to 123rd Street, while the park would be designed around existing landscapes, factoring in the park’s views and foliage.
Construction on Riverside Park began around 1874, though Olmsted was removed from his superintendent post in 1877. Inspired by the layout of the Hudson Valley, Olmsted, alongside Vaux, Munckwitz, and Samuel Parsons laid out stretches of the park. Considering the park spanned dozens of blocks, each portion had a different layout and design, with some parts functioning better with the steep terrain. Olmsted’s offer to work with Vaux on a more unified design was denied, so sections of the park were completed years later than others.
ROSA PARKS STATUE ESSEX GOVENMENT CENTER NEWARK, NEW JERSEY
LAURA HUSSEY, ANDY SPARBERG 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 Deborah Dorff All image are copyrighted (c)
FUNDING PROVIDED BY ROOSEVELT ISLAND OPERATING CORPORATION PUBLIC PURPOSE GRANTS CITY COUNCIL REPRESENTATIVE BEN KALLOS DISCRETIONARY FUNDING THRU DYCD
4.24.22 Lunchtime drawing: One World Trade Center and others from downtown, so many blues with the sky and reflection. Over vacation/spring break I find I gravitate more to nature and now it’s back to city.
4.23.22 Lunchtime drawing: This Andean condor at the Bronx Zoo stretched out its wings (so wide!) and glided to the ground right after I sketched it.
4.21.22 Lunchtime drawing: Back in NYC and straight to Washington Square Park, pausing to paint the tulips, before getting in line for Dosa Man dosas.
4.18.22 Lunchtime drawing: A snowy owl on display at the Reinstein Woods education center in Buffalo, NY.
The first thing you see when you click on “visit” on the Grounds For Sculpture website is Looking for the perfect daytrip?. Well actually, yes, we are! And if you are ok with an approximate 90 minute drive from Manhattan, you are in for a treat in the opposite direction from our other recommendations. Be prepared to see world class sculpture among a living library of native and exotic trees and flowers”.
Eolith, Isaac Witkin,1994, Blue Mountain granite. Photo David W. Steele
Founded by sculptor and philanthropist Seward Johnson, Grounds For Sculpture opened in 1992 on the former NJ State Fairgrounds, With 300+ sculptures installed over the 42 acres, the founders’ vision to ““fill people everywhere with the emotional sustenance derived from the powerful and restorative connection between art and nature.”. He even created a bizarre collection of sculptures he called Beyond the Frame, which are lifesize 3D replicas of famous impressionistic paintings and other iconic scenes that viewers can get up close and personal with. Imagine grabbing the table next to the couple in Edouard Manet’s Chez Pere Lathuille. Aside from the whimsey of Beyond the Frame, most of the artwork at Grounds for Sculpture is made by internationally recognized sculptors. With collaborators such as Gloria Vanderbilt, who worked with Johnson on the unique environment Forest of the Subconscious, to sculptures by world renown artists like Kiki Smith, who grew up in NJ, and George Segal, to the charming Rats Restaurant with award winning views, there is so much to see and do among the paths, reflecting pools and meadows that you may want to leave extra early to fit it all in.
Bruce Beasley: Sixty Year Retrospective, 1960-2020. Grounds For Sculpture, East Gallery. Photo: Bruce M. White.
After a year of being closed, the museum’s indoor spaces are opening with the exhibition Bruce Beasley: Sixty Year Retrospective, 1960-2020, which also includes outdoor sculptures. There is also the fine dining restaurant, Rat’s Inn, on the grounds, reservations suggested. Entry to Grounds For Sculpture is by advance timed ticket only and capacity is limited. Both Members and Public are required to reserve timed tickets online to visit. The Garden is open Thursday through Sunday 10AM to 6PM.
NOTICE CHANDIGARH: THE BEAUTIFUL CITY PROGRAM HAS BEEN POSTPONED FROM APRIL 28TH. THE NEW DATE IS THURSDAY, MAY 12TH TO REGISTER:
MOUNT VERNON HOTEL, FORMERLY ABIGAIL ADAMS SMITH MUSEUM (CLOSED NOW)
ED LITCHER, GLORIA HERMAN, VICKI FEINMEL, ALEXIS VILLAFANE & ANDY SPARBERG 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
All image are copyrighted (c) Roosevelt Island Historical Society unless otherwise indicated:
NICK GOLEBIEWSKI UNTAPPED NEW YORK
RIHS (C) FUNDING PROVIDED BY ROOSEVELT ISLAND OPERATING CORPORATION PUBLIC PURPOSE GRANTS CITY COUNCIL REPRESENTATIVE BEN KALLOS DISCRETIONARY FUNDING THRU DYCD
We drive by these two buildings on East 58th Street. Leftovers from a bygone era when this was a quiet residential neighborhood. Take a quick glance as you enter the Upper Level of the Queensboro Bridge.
Abijah Pell, Jr. was born in New York City on November 8, 1811. His was an important family, tracing its roots in America to the 17th century. John Pell inherited the Pelham estate from his uncle, Thomas Pell, in 1670, and became the first lord of Pelham Manor.
Abijah’s parents, Abijah and Mary Baldwin Pell, owned considerable land in Greenwich Village and when the elder Abijah died in 1826 his seven children–five sons and a daughter–shared equally in the sizable estate.
In the decade before the outbreak of Civil War spotty development was taking place along East 58th Street near the East River; until only recently green farmland. Tax records indicate a house appeared by 1857 at what could be numbered 311 East 58th Street, when title to the property was in name of Charles Shute Pell.
It does not appear that Charles ever lived in the quaint brick-faced house. He and his wife, both educators, were appointed superintendents of the New-York Orphan Asylum by 1857 and as such would have living quarters there.
Instead his brother, Abijah, listed his address as “East 58th near 2nd” in the early 1860s. As a matter of fact, it may have been Abijah who constructed the house. He was described as “a leading builder of his day” by The Memorial Cyclopedia decades later. Pell was married to Eliza Brown Ward. She was the first cousin of New Jersey Governor Marcus Ward. The couple had three sons, Abijah, William and Charles.
Despite their lofty pedigree, the extended Pell family was apparently well in tune with the condition of the less fortunate. Both Charles and Abijah were long-term members of The New York Association for the Improvement of the Condition of the Poor, for instance. Nevertheless, they moved socially among their peers. All the Pell brothers were members of the venerable St. Nicholas Society which included only men descended from New York’s earliest families.
When Abijah’s 48-year old brother, Aaron, died on November 8, 1861 of consumption, his funeral was held in the 58th Street house two days later.
Abijah had joined the Union Army only a month earlier. When a comrade, John R. Hobby, died “of disease contracted in the army,” on October 20, 1865, once again a funeral was held in the Pells’ parlor. The notice instructed mourners it was “second house east of 2d-av.”
In the spring of 1870 the Park Commissioners directed the North and East River Company and the Central Park Railroad Company to lay “double tracks in Fifty-eighth-street.” The intention was to provide a crosstown connection between the First Avenue and Eleventh Avenue streetcars. Local protest was quick and forceful, with Abijah Pell leading the charge.
On May 7 “a large number of property-owners” met at the Terrace Garden, on 58th Street near Third Avenue. The New York Times reported they gathered “for the purpose of protesting against the laying of a track for a horse-car railroad in that street.”
Abijah Pell presided that evening. Among the results of the meeting was the formation of a committee to raise funds for an expected legal battle.
Three years later Abijah Pell died in a bizarre and tragic accident in Newark, New Jersey. On Saturday morning, April 19, 1873, was run over by the “pusher,” or engine used to move train cars. He died the following day.
The 58th Street house was sold to John B. Huse and his wife, Emma. Huse was a printer with a shop on Hudson Street. He also apparently dabbled in real estate. In September 1873 he advertised “A store to let on Seventh Avenue–inquire at 311 East Fifty-eighth street, or in confectionery, No. 9 Seventh avenue.” Huse was adamant that his property would not be used as a saloon. His ad stressed “will not be rented for liquor store.”
On September 1, 1877 Huse sold the “two-story brick dwelling” to Henry S. Cohn for $8,000–just under $190,000 today. Cohn flipped the house for a tidy profit, selling it four weeks later, on October 5, to Mathias Down for $10,000.
Although the Prussian-born Down was listed as a merchant, his main income most likely came from the several tenements he owned throughout the city. In February 1890 he commissioned architect Charles Stagmeyer to add a two-story extension to the rear at a cost of $1,500. The enlargement may have had to do with Down’s grandson, Mathias Herman J. Weiden’s moving in. Both Down and Weiden were listed in the house in the 1890s.
Weiden (who went by the name Herman) and his wife, Margaret, had one child, Josephine, who was born in 1906. He was active in New York’s German community and served on the Executive Committee of the National Federation of German-American Catholics during the World War I years. Despite anti-German sentiments during the war, it often went by the name of the Catholic Central Verein of America. Weiden would remain an active member through the 1950s.
It appears that Margaret had died by 1920 when only Weiden and Josephine were listed as living in the 58th Street house. His marriage on Wednesday, February 15, 1928 was marred by tragedy when Catherine McMurray, his new mother-in-law, died two days later in her Brooklyn home.
In 1928, the year Weiden remarried, the house looked little different than it does today. photograph from the collection of the New York Public Library
On December 30, 1950 The New York Times reported “After seventy-three years in the family of Mathias Weiden, the two story brick dwelling…at 311 East Fifty-eighth Street has been purchased by Charles Jones, music composer, for occupancy.”
The musician moved in with his wife, Sally. Born in Canada in 1910, he had come to the United States at the age of 18 to study violin at the Juilliard School (his father, incidentally, was an American citizen). He became a pupil of, and then assistant to Darius Milhaud at Mills College in Oakland, California. The two worked together at the Aspen Music School where Jones became Director in 1970.
Throughout his career he also taught at the Music Academy of the West in Santa Barbara, the Juilliard School and the Mannes College of Music. His compositions included an oratorio on Piers Plowman, four symphonies, and nine string quartets.
Jones was still teaching composition at Mannes and Juilliard when he died from complications of heart surgery in June 1997. The remarkably-surviving little house was sold the following year to The Philip Colleck Gallery for $1.1 million. The gallery, established in the 1930s, deals in 18th century English antiques.
According to the firm’s president, Mark Jacoby, several months after the purchase “Part of the charm of the building is that it has its original doors, mahogany banisters and wide pine floors, all of which we’re keeping. We’re keeping the room configurations as well. There are seven different fireplaces on the three floors, and a large rear garden that we’re going to beautify.”
The new owners hired architect Peter M. Bernholz to design the gallery. At the same time the coat of what Jacoby described as “old blueberry-yogurt paint” was removed from the brickwork.
As if the history of the house were not amazing enough, local lore insists that Tennessee Williams rented a room here in the 1930s. In fact, he lived across the street at No. 316. And that is perfectly fine. The remarkable survivor does not need a celebrity to stand out; its excruciating charm is enough.
313 EAST 58 STREET
In the 18th century the area near the East River around what would become 58th Street was lonely. Travelers using the Eastern Post Road could stop at the inn called The Union Flag (the name of which referred, of course, to the British colors, not the later American union). The tavern sat approximately where the approach to the Queensboro Bridge is today.
But the decade prior to the Civil War saw the beginnings of development as streets were laid out and building plots sold. In 1856 builder and mason Hiram G. Disbrow began construction on his own modest home at what would later be numbered 313 East 58th Street. Simultaneously Charles Shute Pell erected a similar house on the lot next door.
Disbrow’s home was completed in 1857. He had no doubt acted as his own architect and the two-story tall structure made no attempts at ostentation. Described as “vernacular” in style today, it exhibited some elements of the Greek Revival style in the doorway and bracketed cornice, for instance. The parlor openings were, in fact, French doors. They were less practical as access to the wooden porch than for adding ventilation into the house during hot summer months.
Disbrow was a partner with George Whitefield in the building firm of Disbrow & Whitefield. A daughter, Emma, was born to him and his wife, Catherine on February 20, 1860. By the time the toddler tragically died on March 30, 1862, the family had moved to No. 165 East 50th Street.
An interesting side note is that in 1899 the aging Hiram G. Disbrow patented an invention far afield from the building business. His “reversible tie” was described as having “sides of different color or material.” For the price of one tie, the customer would get two.
In the mid-1890s James Jordan, “dealer in window-shades, and carpets, &c.” lived in No. 313. His next door neighbor, at No. 311, was the Prussian-born merchant Mathias Down. Down had owned that house since 1877 and now his grandson, Herman Weiden, lived there as well.
Down died before 1920 and at some point Weiden purchased No. 311 as well. By now not only had apartment buildings closed in around the houses; but the massive Queensboro Bridge had wiped out much of the old neighborhood. Its approach was mere yards from the properties.
The end of the line for the quaint anachronisms seemed near in April 1928. On April 28 real estate operator and builder Milton Barkin, of Samuel Barkin & Sons, purchased Nos. 311 and 313 “from the Weiden estate,” as reported in the newspapers (Herman Weiden was, incidentally, very much alive). The New York Times reported on September 13 the firm’s intention to build “a nine-story apartment house at 311-313 East Fifty-eighth Street.”
The two 1857 houses as they appeared in March 1928. from the collection of the New York Public Library.
But something happened with the ambitious project. The Weidens never relinquished title to No. 311 and No. 313 was purchased as the headquarters for the Humane Society of New York. Mae Colbert Liotta, executive secretary and assistant to the president of the Society, lived in the upper portion of the house with her widowed mother, Margaret Colbert.
Large fund raising events for the Humane Society of New York rarely took place from the house (the benefit dinner and dance at the Waldorf-Astoria in 1935, for instance, lured patrons with names like Morgan, Dodge, Armour, and Roosevelt). But it was the scene of one especially anticipated annual event–the Christmas party for children and their pets.
The event was no small affair, especially for pets and children. On December 25, 1935 The New York Times reported “The party, which lasted an hour and a half, got underway with the playing of marches by members of the Kips Bay Boy Scouts, Troop 472, whose bugles and drums attracted a crowd to the Christmas tree erected at the front door of the society’s building.
“Pets were brought in their best regalia, some with yellow ribbons and furbished leather harness. One woman carried her cat in a crate usually used to ship oranges.”
One man that year even brought his two white mice. The Santa Claus was ready for more expected pets like dogs and cats, and his sack was filled with gifts of collars, blankets, leashes and food. The mice sent workers scurrying. “They received pieces of cheese and crackers,” said the article.
A second Santa suit, right down to the long white beard, was worn by Paddy Reilly who made a special appearance. He was the mascot terrier of the Society and lived in the house. He received two loving cups during that event. One was for saving the life of a woman in Jamaica Bay. He barked until a passing boater heard him and plucked her from the water. The other was from “an admirer” who was impressed with Paddy’s help in raising $3,600 that year. He routinely strolled the city streets with a money cup on his back “seeking aid for dumb animals,” as described by The Times.
Two years later Paddy Reilly would add a special honor to his growing collection of medals “for his bravery and devotion.” Artist Helen Stotesbury visited the 58th Street headquarters where the terrier sat for his oil portrait. Stotesbury was the daughter of Brigadier General Louis W. Stotesbury, president of the Humane Society. She proclaimed Paddy “the best subject she ever had.” The portrait was sold to benefit the organization at the dog’s 17th birthday party the following week.
A woman approaches the porch with her dog. Those who could not afford to pay a veterinarian were welcome at the Society’s free clinic. photo via http://www.humanesocietyny.org
Margaret Colbert died on October 22, 1938. As had been the practice in the house in the 19th century, her funeral was held here several days later.
Mae Colbert Liotta continued to live on the second floor. She threw herself into the Society’s work, organizing and heading its street displays, free clinic, courses in animal care and other activities. On December 13, 1943, for instance, she announced through the newspapers that anyone who called at the 58th Street house that day with a horse and wagon would be given a free horse blanket.
Exactly one week later Mae was working on the upcoming Christmas Party at her desk when she was seized with a heart attack. She died later that afternoon at Flower Fifth Avenue Hospital at the age of 53.
The Humane Society of New York continued to operate from the house for three more decades. In 1952 when the State passed the Metcalf-Hatch Animal Research Bill, authorizing the “turning over of stray dogs and cats to laboratories and institutions for experiments,” it was the scene of dissent. The New York Times reported on February 13 “The 100-year old green-and-white clapboard cottage at 313 East Fifty-eighth Street, housing the Humane Society of New York was the scene of a protest meeting yesterday.”
The Humane Society of New York moved to its new headquarters in 1974. The East 58th Street building was purchased by Paul Steindler and his wife, Aja. Steindler had fled his native Czechoslovakia during the 1945 Communist takeover. He was at that time an Olympic wrestler and Aja was the world ice skating champion. By now the couple had given up athletics to become restaurateurs.
Thankfully, No. 313 had been named a New York City landmark in 1970. While designation did not protect the interior details, it safeguarded the exterior.
The New York Times food critic Craig Claiborne explained on September 8, 1976 “[Steindler] has gutted the building and excavated a basement. When it is transformed into a restaurant, tentatively named Paul’s Landmark, it will have an inner dining room with a seating capacity of 85, plus a patio.”
Considering using the word “landmark” in the name was ironic since Steindler wiped out the interior architectural history of the structure. Instead, the restaurant was named The Czech Pavillion. A 1979 advertisement touted “Classic Czech cooking…Charming…Townhouse Atmosphere” and offered “Enjoy piano music of the Old World nightly in the Skylight Room.”
Although the building was still owned by the Steindlers, in 1981 The Czech Pavillion became Le Club, described by a newspaper as “the disco for New York’s power elite.” In 1989 the club’s director, Patrick Shield reminded a New York Magazine reporter that “party animals like F. Ross Johnson, Donald Trump, Ronald O. Perelman, Henry Kravis, and Saul Steinberg” haunted Le Club “three and four nights a week, with the most magnificent girls. They were swinging.”
When Le Club moved out late in 1996, Aja Steindler (Paul had died in 1983) leased the house to Rocco Ancarola, owner of Cafe Boom in Soho. He announced plans to open a new restaurant, Two Rooms, with a formal dining room on the ground floor and cafe and lounge on the second. That project lasted only until spring of 1999.
Now it became The Landmark Club, “a restaurant, not a club.” The owner, Shamsher Wadud who also operated the restaurant Nirvana, was quick to point out to food critic Florence Fabricant “Only the exterior of the building, built in the 1850s as a residence, is a city landmark.”
Finally, in 2010 artist John Ransom Phillips purchased the 154-year old house as his residence and studio for around $4.7 million. Ironically it was the absence of the 19th century interior elements that attracted him. Joyce Cohen, writing in The New York Times on November 19, 2010 explained “When Mr. Phillips saw the former dance floor, with two skylights–one of them with 16 glass panels in a vaulted ceiling–he began to see possibilities.”
In 1970 Adolf K. Placzek of the Columbia University’s Avery Arrchitectural Library perfectly described Hiram G. Disbrow’s charming residence as “a little gem of human proportion.” Against all odds it, along with the Pell house next door, survives on the busy street, mostly ignored by the motorists intent on accessing the Queensboro Bridge.
NOTICE
CHANDIGARH: THE BEAUTIFUL CITY PROGRAM HAS BEEN POSTPONED FROM APRIL 28TH. THE NEW DATE IS THURSDAY, MAY 12TH WATCH FOR RESERVATION INFORMATION
1970’S RENTAL MATERIALS FOR EASTWOOD SHOWING 546 MAIN STREET AND SENIOR CENTER. GLORIA HERMAN AND ALEXIS VILLAFANE 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
Sources#
DAYTONIAN IN MANHATTAN
FUNDING PROVIDED BY ROOSEVELT ISLAND OPERATING CORPORATION PUBLIC PURPOSE GRANTS CITY COUNCIL REPRESENTATIVE BEN KALLOS DISCRETIONARY FUNDING THRU DYCD
Conversation at the General Store, near Jeanerette, Louisiana, 1938
The son of Burton Lee and his wife Adeline Werner, Lee grew up in Ottawa, Illinois. He attended Culver Military Academy in Culver, Indiana for high school. He earned a bachelor’s degree in chemical engineering from Lehigh University in Bethlehem, Pennsylvania.[3]
Lee started working as a chemist, but gave up the position to become a painter. Originally he used photography as a precursor to his painting, but soon became interested in photography for its own sake. He recorded the people and places around him. Among his earliest subjects were Pennsylvanian bootleg mining and the Father Divine cult.[4]
In the fall of 1936, during the Great Depression, Lee was hired for the federally sponsored Farm Security Administration (FSA) photographic documentation project of the Franklin D. Roosevelt administration. He joined a team assembled under Roy Stryker, along with Dorothea Lange, Arthur Rothstein, and Walker Evans. Stryker provided direction and bureaucratic protection to the group, leaving the photographers free to compile what in 1973 was described as “the greatest documentary collection which has ever been assembled.”[3] Lee created some of the iconic images produced by the FSA, including photographic studies of San Augustine, Texas in 1939, and Pie Town, New Mexico in 1940.
Over the spring and summer of 1942, Lee was one of several government photographers to document the forced relocation of Japanese Americans from the West Coast. He produced more than 600 images of families waiting to be removed and their later lives in various detention facilities, most located in isolated areas of the interior of the country.
After the FSA was defunded in 1943, Lee served in the Air Transport Command (ATC). During this period, he took photographs of all the airfield approaches used by the ATC to supply the Armed Forces in World War II. In 1946 and 1947, he worked for the United States Department of the Interior (DOI), helping the agency compile a medical survey in communities involved in mining bituminous coal. He created over 4,000 photographs of miners and their working conditions in coal mines.[6] In 1946, Lee completed a series of photos focused on a Pentecostal Church of God in a Kentucky coal camp.
While completing the DOI work, Lee also continued to work under Stryker. He produced public relations photographs for Standard Oil of New Jersey . In 1947 Lee moved to Austin, Texas and continued photography. In 1965 he became the first instructor of photography at the University of Texas there.
Los Angeles (vicinity), California. Baggage of Japanese-Americans evacuated from certain West coast areas under United States Army war emergency order, who have arrived at a reception center at a racetrack.
Nyssa, Oregon. FSA (Farm Security Administration) mobile camp. Japanese mother and father with their American-born children in tent-home. One of the sons of this family is in the United States Army. Two of the sons were studying engineering at an American university before the evacuation and are now greatly worried about possibilities of continuing their education
Summit Hotel on Lexington Avenue CENTRAL NURSES RESIDENCE WAS ON SITE OF NOW 475-455 MAIN STREET NANCY BROWN AND ARON EISENPRISS GOT IT RIGHT!!
Sources
Wikipedia Wikimedia Commons
Edited by Deborah Dorff ALL PHOTOS COPYRIGHT RIHS. 2022 (C) PHOTOS IN THIS ISSUE (C) JUDITH BERDY RIHS
FUNDING PROVIDED BY ROOSEVELT ISLAND OPERATING CORPORATION PUBLIC PURPOSE GRANTS CITY COUNCIL REPRESENTATIVE BEN KALLOS DISCRETIONARY FUNDING THRU DYCD
Our concrete jungle is a city built on water. If one searches carefully, one can hear sounds of secret streams churning beneath manholes and see traces of them in street names that recall a watery past.
An illustration of Broad Street, New York City in the 17th Century.Broad Street (Heere Gracht)Near the southern tip of Manhattan, Broad Street is situated atop a buried inlet of the East River.The first Dutch settlers arrived in Lower Manhattan in 1625 and quickly set about building a colonial outpost reminiscent of their home country. Broad Street’s name is a reminder of the navigable canal, Heere Gracht, named after a canal in Amsterdam.The canals were accessible only to small watercraft and quickly took on a less romantic role as a dumping ground for refuse. In 1664, New Amsterdam was acquired by England and renamed New York. The new masters of the colony did not care for restoring the city’s canals and had all of them buried in 1676.On today’s maps, the only physical reminder of the Heere Gracht is Bridge Street, a two-block road that intersects with Broad Street. Prior to 1676, the intersection was a bridge spanning the canal.
Maiden LaneLess than a half-mile north of Broad Street, a brook flowed into the East River, its path marked today by Maiden Lane. The stream had its origins at Nassau Street and its mouth at Pearl Street. In colonial times, it was known as Maagde Paatje, Dutch for “a footpath used by lovers along a rippling brook,” according to “The WPA Guide to New York City.” Other historians have a less romantic theory for Maiden Lane’s name: that the river that ran there was used for washing sheets. As the city crept north, the stream was buried and covered with a paved road in 1698.
Collect Pond near new York City. Wikimedia Commons
Collect Pond
The best-documented hidden waterway in Lower Manhattan is Collect Pond, which supplied drinking water to colonial settlers in the 17th and 18th centuries.
Its center and deepest point — 70 feet — was at the present-day intersection of Leonard and Centre streets. The pond occupied 48 acres in an outline that includes present-day Foley Square, Manhattan Criminal Court, the city Department of Health and the Manhattan Supreme Court. At Worth Street, a neck of land jutted into the pond, separating Little Collect from the larger section of the pond.
When the Dutch colonists arrived in 1625, they noted shells lining the shore and named the pond Kalck Hoek, or “lime point,” as the shells resembled lime. Some say this name was later corrupted into the pond’s English name, Collect Pond, though this theory is far from definitive.
To the east of the pond, at the present-day intersection of Baxter and Mulberry streets, the Tea Water Pump supplied water used for brewing tea. This pump was popular enough to be used as a reference marker on 18th-century maps, and carts delivered the pump’s water in barrels to eager customers. There were so many of these vendors that in 1757, the Common Council passed a law limiting their number. The same legislative body declared the pump a nuisance in 1797 and ordered it closed.
In 1788, Pierre Charles L’Enfant, the future designer of Washington, DC, proposed a park that would follow a canal from the Hudson to East rivers through the Collect Pond.
But New York leaders had other plans for the pond. As the water became more polluted from nearby tanneries, they decided to bury the pond. By 1819, the work was done, and a new neighborhood would rise atop the former pond, optimistically named Paradise Square.
Inside, it would become a notorious slum — Five Points.
In recent years, the pond has enjoyed a revival in the city’s consciousness, with a reflecting pool as the centerpiece of a redesigned city park that opened in 2014.
Canal StreetThe canal that Canal Street was named after existed only for a short time. It was built in 1807 to drain the Collect Pond into the Hudson River. The pond and the canal were both buried by 1819, but Canal Street kept its name for eternity.
Old Wreck BrookThis creek drained from the Collect Pond into the East River, winding through Wolfert’s Marsh, where the Brooklyn Bridge was later constructed. It dried up after the pond was emptied.
Minetta Brook
Greenwich Village is perhaps the most storied of all the residential neighborhoods in Lower Manhattan. Through the heart of this urban village flows an underground street — one that occasionally reappears in flooded basements, flowing beneath alleys that carry its name.
Minetta Brook originated from two tributaries, the main one having its source near what is now Fifth Avenue and 21st Street, and a secondary one at Sixth Avenue and 16th Street. The streams merged at a point just west of the intersection of Fifth Avenue and 11th Street.
The stream continued into what became Washington Square Park, turning southwest toward the Hudson River. One of the curves of the stream was immortalized in the form of Minetta Street, a one-block alley in the heart of Greenwich Village. At its northern end, this street intersects with Minetta Lane.
The stream’s name is a variation of a commonly used Algonquin term: manitou or “spirit.” Local historians believe Minetta translated as “evil spirit” or “snake water.”
The land that would become Washington Square Park was used to grow tobacco until 1797, when the farms were repurposed as cemeteries. The number of dead increased dramatically in the series of yellow fever epidemics that swept across the city between 1797 and 1803. The graveyard filled up, and the city purchased land for a second cemetery on the site of the future Bryant Park.
When the potter’s field was rezoned as parkland in 1826, most of the bodies were removed; but on occasion, during construction in Washington Square Park, coffins may still be found. This happened most recently in 2009 — a tombstone dating to 1799 and attributed to 28-year-old Irish immigrant James Jackson, victim of yellow fever.
In the 1820s, what remained of Minetta Brook on the surface was buried by leveling the Sand Hills to its east.
Residents still see glimpses of Minetta Brook in their damp basements. Across the street from Washington Square’s Roman-style triumphal arch is Two Fifth Avenue, a massive apartment building that, in its lobby, has a glass cylinder pipe sticking out of the floor. A plaque on the wall says that, occasionally, silted water from Minetta Brook can be seen rising up inside the pipe.
The vent shaft structure fence is receiving a mosaic artpiece. The mosaic has been installed and now covered “temporarily” until the project is finished later this year. Stay tuned for details. Aron Eisenpreiss, Andy Sparberg, Ed Litcher all got it right.
SOURCES
WIKIMEDIA COMMONS NEW YORK POST
Funding Provided by: Roosevelt Island Corporation Public Purpose Funds Council Member Ben Kallos City Council Discretionary Funds thru DYCD Text by Judith Berd
Edited by Deborah Dorff ALL PHOTOS COPYRIGHT RIHS. 2022 (C) PHOTOS IN THIS ISSUE (C) JUDITH BERDY RIHS
PENNIES FOR PRESERVATION returns this Saturday, April 23rd. We will be collecting at the Farmer’s Market Donations can also be left at 531 #1704 or with door station to the attention of Judith Berdy All donations support the Roosevelt Island Historical Society.
Thanks for your support of the RIHS
Judith Berdy President
FRIDAY, APRIL 22, 2022
The 656th Edition
Florenz Edward Ziegfeld Jr.
Stephen Blank
Florenz Edward Ziegfeld Jr. was the most important producer in the history of the Broadway musical, the unmatched Broadway entertainment entrepreneur. Ziegfeld shared P.T. Barnum’s bravura and Texas Guinan’s truth-stretching style, but he sailed higher and influenced more than either of them. His business card read “Impresario Extraordinaire”, and the title was well deserved.
Ziegfeld in 1928, Wikipedia
Ziegfeld’s father was a German immigrant of the same generation as William Steinway, and like him, not a struggling refugee but a well-educated professional, the former mayor of a small German town, who came to the US to launch a new life. He was the founder and director of the Chicago Musical College. The first son, Florenz, was expected to follow in his father’s footsteps, but the color and excitement of the musical theater proved irresistible.
The theater at the turn of the century lacked a figure who could fuse the naughty sexuality of the streets and the saloons and burlesque shows with the savoir-faire of café society. What it lacked was Florenz Ziegfeld. Over his long career, Ziegfeld reshaped the American musical, achieving enormous fame and influence. But he struggled through dry periods as well, worsened by his gambling. And always, women.
The first phase of Ziegfeld’s career was built around a French performer, Anna Held (who in fact was the daughter of a Polish Jewish seamstress and had performed in London’s Yiddish theaters). Her colorful French accent, eighteen-inch waist, hourglass figure and coquettish personality captivated Ziegfeld. His flimflammey blossomed: Held took milk baths to enhance her soft skin (untrue), Ziegfeld loudly sued a diary for providing sour milk (untrue) and announced that women all over the country were draining dairies for their own milk baths (untrue). But the press loved it. Anna created a persona of “gaiety, champagne, naughtiness and high kicks.” And the press loved her.
Portrait of Held c. 1908, by Léopold-Émile Reutlinger, Wikipedia
Over a dozen years, Ziegfeld produced seven Broadway musicals tailored to showcase her charms. Each ran for a few weeks in New York – none a major success – before touring. When Held starred in a vaudeville show that won rave reviews, Ziegfeld realized he had been missing Held’s music hall appeal. Now, shows were better suited to her style. She introduced several hit songs, including “I Just Can’t Make My Eyes Behave” and “It’s Delightful to Be Married.” Ziegfeld backed her with a troupe called “The Anna Held Girls” – the first of his signature chorus lines.
Many popular songs warbled out of Ziegfeld’s productions, most of which are long forgotten. But some are eternal. Among them, “Shine On Harvest Moon”, “By the Light of the Silvery Moon”, “A Bicycle Built for Two”, and “Row, Row, Row Your Boat.” Who knew that “Shine of Harvest Moon” came out of a Ziegfeld show, sung by torcher Ruth Etting (Doris Day portrayed Etting’s tough life in “Love Me or Leave Me”).
In 1907, Ziegfeld unveiled his most enduring legacy, the lavish “revues” (modeled on Paris’ Folies Bergère, thus “revue” not “review”). In 1911, the revues were renamed the Ziegfeld Follies. Packed with wildly talented performers (Fanny Brice, Ruth Etting, W. C. Fields, Eddie Cantor, Marilyn Miller and Will Rogers performed regularly at the Follies), the best songs by Irving Berlin, George Gershwin and Jerome Kern, with elaborate costumes and sets, and featuring beautiful “Ziegfeld Girls” chosen personally by Ziegfeld (Flo’s said to have interviewed 15,000 women a year for a quarter of a century of whom 3,000 were selected as Ziegfeld Girls), his spectacular extravaganzas played annually until 1931.
And women. Apparently, a lot of women. Ziegfeld’s very public pursuit of showgirl Lillian Lorraine, a temperamental beauty who’s taste for alcohol and monumental tantrums would plague Ziegfeld as their on-again/off-again love affair spread over the next two decades. One night, Lorraine accused Fanny Brice of trying to steal one of her wealthy boyfriends. The resulting backstage brawl ended with a triumphant Brice dragging a tattered Lorraine by her hair across the stage – to the shocked delight of the audience. Ziegfeld did not side with his mistress. In fact, Lorraine was fired soon afterward for missing a rehearsal (but rehired shortly after).
Ziegfeld continued to produce book shows as well as the Follies. The most famous was Show Boat in 1927 with Jerome Kern’s music that remain a regular of songsters. Ziegfeld had reached the apex of his career. He was the undisputed King of Broadway, and all of show business looked upon him as something of a living legend.
Ziegfeld, tired of seeing his audiences leave after performances of the Ziegfeld Follies to spend money at other people’s nightclubs, staged a late-night revue in the New Amsterdam Theatre’s underused 680 seat roof-top theater. The stage would roll back revealing a dance floor; chorus girls danced down a glass walkway, right above the customers seated below. Later called the Midnight Frolic, the show was a bit more risqué than the Follies. The girls shimmying down the glass walkway above the audience were reportedly cautioned to wear bloomers, but the rule wasn’t always followed. Audience members were asked to vote for the young lady considered the most beautiful, and the winner during the run of that Frolic series had her salary doubled – which surely encouraged even more extravagant hijinks.
Critics loved it: “The latest edition of Florenz Ziegfeld’s ‘Midnight Frolic,’ which had its first presentation Monday midnight before an audience that embraced all who live and move and have their being in Broadway, out-Ziegfelds all its predecessors. It is like the others only more so. It is a Ziegfeld show of beautiful women, frocks and tableaux designed for the businessman who is too tired to go home after the play… One might search the world and not find anything quite as unique or lavish as this midnight revue.”
Flo never missed an opportunity to seize the moment. At the first pre-Broadway performance of Show Girl, Ruby Keeler was dancing to the Gershwin hit “Liza” when Keeler’s husband, Al Jolson, stood up in the audience and started singing it. The audience, thinking that Jolson was encouraging his wife, roared its approval. Ziegfeld made the most of the situation by convincing Al to repeat the stunt during the show’s first week in New York.
Ziegfeld was often broke and suffered massive losses in the Wall Street crash. He borrowed money from his chum, Diamond Jim Brady, and his third wife, the showgirl and actress Billie Burke (remember Glinda, the good witch in The Wizard of Oz) supported him and his business with her Hollywood career. Ziegfeld cheated consistently, but Burke worked tirelessly for decades after his death to settle his debts.
Thinking about Ziegfeld’s “girls”, first, for quite a few, his shows became a first step to wider fame and, second, they were often very young when they danced on Ziegfeld’s stage. Some went on to the movies. At 19, Marion Davies appeared in the Ziegfeld Follies of 1916. She would meet William Randolph Hearst, who backed several of Ziegfeld’s shows, and have famous careers — in Hollywood and as Hearst’s mistress. Louise Brooks was there at 19 and went on to an important film career. Barbara Stanwyck, the Frank Capra heroine and film noir femme fatale, was 16 in the Ziegfeld Follies of 1922. “I just wanted to survive and eat and have a nice coat,” She said. Paulette Goddard, another film star, appeared in a Ziegfeld show at 16. Other Ziegfeld alums include Olive Thomas, Mae Murray, Billie Dove, Marilyn Miller, Fanny Brice, Ruth Etting, and Marilyn Miller. Others – Norma Shearer, Mae West, Joan Crawford and Janet Gaynor – almost made it into the Follies but didn’t make the cut.
Not everyone was famous, but some managed a good life – or a good time. The Times ran an article about the Ziegfeld Club – made up of former Ziegfeld girls. Several lines caught my eye:
“Sure I had a sugar daddy,” Vi Corey Phillips said. “Fie invested $5,000 and I got a part in one of the shows. He even gave me a diamond bracelet once, and I disliked diamonds intensely. What really wanted was an emerald, but I never got one. He had a wife and six kids at home. But in those days, you had … friends.”
“And I remember champagne parties where there were $100 bills under the plates,” recalls Madeleine Janis Courter, who had the most prestigious Follies job —that of showgirl—in the 1927 Follies, and who later achieved the Follies girl’s dream—landing a millionaire husband, Joseph A. Courter.
Was there a “Ziegfeld touch”? “What was his touch? . . . First, Ziegfeld knew the subtle line between desire and lust, between good taste and vulgarity, and never crossed it… Second, the exhibitionism which was part of his private life was not contrived. It was an integral part of him, part of the personality mechanism that made him what he was: a gambler who had an almost childish irresponsibility toward the value of money and an equally childish conviction that he could always get some more when he wanted it. Most of the time he was astonishingly right. And finally, he had a sense of showmanship and of female beauty that was the despair of his competitors.” (Marjorie Farnsworth, The Ziegfeld Follies, 1961)
The original Silvercup sign is being lit by a new system the last week. The sign was not neon, but lit by spotlights until recently.
We are waiting to see the final version, and suggest those of us whose window face east will be seeing the glow of the new lighting very well!
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:
Ziegfeld Girls Recalling the Glitter of an Era By Judy Klemesrud, NYT April 25, 1975 Former Ziegfeld Follies Girl Recalls the Glory Days By Douglas Martin, NYT Oct. 18, 1996
RIHS (C) FUNDING PROVIDED BY ROOSEVELT ISLAND OPERATING CORPORATION PUBLIC PURPOSE GRANTS CITY COUNCIL REPRESENTATIVE BEN KALLOS DISCRETIONARY FUNDING THRU DYCD
AND THE CHIEF ARCHITECT, CHANDGARH ADMINISTRATION 2008-2014 SUMIT KAUR
Sumit Kaur, Chief Architect of Chandigarh will join us on Thursday, April 28th to tell the story of the development of a model city in the 1960’s. DEPARTMENT OF ARCHITECTURE, PUNJAB GOVERNMENT Retired as Chief Architect, Department of Architecture, Punjab October 2014 For a period of 33 years from November 1981 to October 2014, served at various posts progressing from Assistant Architect, Architect, Senior Architect, Additional Chief Architect to Chief Architect Punjab Government. TOWN PLANNING PROJECT
Chandigarh is one of the early planned cities in post-independence India and is internationally known for its architecture and urban design. The master plan of the city was prepared by Swiss-French architect Le Corbusier, which transformed from earlier plans created by the Polish architect Maciej Nowicki and the American planner Albert Mayer. Most of the government buildings and housing in the city were designed by the Chandigarh Capital Project Team headed by Le Corbusier, Jane Drew and Maxwell Fry.
In 2015, an article published by BBC named Chandigarh as one of the few master-planned cities in the world to have succeeded in terms of combining monumental architecture, cultural growth, and modernization.
As part of the partition of India in 1947, the former British province of Punjab was divided into two, mostly Sikh and Hindu East Punjab in India and mostly Muslim West Punjab in Pakistan.[25] The capital of undivided Punjab, Lahore, had become part of Pakistan after the partition.
Instead of shifting the capital to an already existing and established city, Jawaharlal Nehru, the first Prime Minister of India, envisioned an altogether new and modern city be built to serve as the capital of Punjab.
In 1949 the American planner and architect Albert Mayer was commissioned to design a new city to be called “Chandigarh”. The government carved out Chandigarh from about fifty Puadhi-speaking villages in the then-state of East Punjab, India. Shimla was the temporary capital of the state until Chandigarh was completed.
THIS IS AN IN-PERSON PROGRAM & REGISTRATION REQUIRED FOR ZOOM
THE QUEENS BUS REDESIGN ELIMINATES THE Q102 BUS
Have you heard of this? Probably not. The Q102 is proposed to be replaced by the Q104.
The Queens bus redesign eliminates the 102 and sends islanders north on Vernon Blvd and then east on Broadway to Sunnyside on the new Q104. This eliminates the convenient trip to Queens Plaza and lots of connections to other buses and subways.
Last night the MTA had a public forum on the project. There has been no publicity aside from incomprehensible signs on buses and a confusing website.
In an area of hundreds of thousands residents, less than 75 persons were on the zoom event.
No easy answers were available since reading Queens maps is impossible.
Better get on your computer and check out the above website and send in your comments.
Since this is a draft proposal. send on your comments, before the route is finalized.
THE GIRL PUZZLE BY SCULPTOR AMANDA MATTHEWS ED LITCHER GOT IT
Text by Judith Berdy Thanks to Bobbie Slonevsky for her dedication to Blackwell’s Almanac and the RIHS Thanks to Deborah Dorff for maintaining our website Edited by Deborah Dorff All image are copyrighted (c)
Sources SUMIT KAUR WIKIPEDIA
FUNDING PROVIDED BY ROOSEVELT ISLAND OPERATING CORPORATION PUBLIC PURPOSE GRANTS CITY COUNCIL REPRESENTATIVE BEN KALLOS DISCRETIONARY FUNDING THRU DYCD
Easter Sunday has just passed, so I wish I came across this painting earlier this week in time to write about it. But maybe it doesn’t matter, because through the eyes and Impressionist brush of John Sloan, this 1907 work is a timeless nocturne of a seemingly ordinary transaction. \ We’re probably in Greenwich Village, where Sloan lived and worked. Easter lilies are laid out in front of a shop for passersby to inspect, pick through, and make their selection. These sidewalk shoppers are shrouded in darkness, practically obscured by the black umbrella one carries.
But as they touch the flowers, you can feel the softness of the petals and sense how bright they must have looked illuminated by the artificial light of the store window. The rain-slicked sidewalk and the warm light from the cafe next door makes it an even more potent, sensuous image of the simple act of purchasing flowers on a rainy spring night.
Our latest donation from Material From the Arts includes a dozen Prunus sub Double Weeping Higan Cherry trees. They will bloom like the one on the right next spring. They are planted on the west promenade in front of Coler. Thanks to the anonymous donor.
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 & EPHEMERAL NEW YORK
RIHS (C) FUNDING PROVIDED BY ROOSEVELT ISLAND OPERATING CORPORATION PUBLIC PURPOSE GRANTS CITY COUNCIL REPRESENTATIVE BEN KALLOS DISCRETIONARY FUNDING THRU DYCD
A midcentury printmaker celebrates machine age New York City
As the machine age took hold in the United States in the early 20th century, some artists took a darker view of the mechanization of urban society—seeing isolation and alienation amid skyscrapers, automobiles, and steel bridges. Painter and printmaker Louis Lozowick, however, found something to celebrate.
“Allen Street,” 1929
Lozowick isn’t a household name, but his backstory will sound familiar. Born in Ukraine in 1892, he immigrated to New York City in the early 1900s, according to Artnet. He took classes at the National Academy of Design, studying with Leon Kroll, a painter and lithographer who often depicted the industry of Manhattan from the city’s bridges and rivers.
Through Brooklyn Bridge Cables,” 1938
After traveling in Europe, Lozowick returned to New York in 1926 and worked as an illustrator for the leftist social reform periodical, New Masses. Influenced by Bauhaus and precisionist artists, he was also producing his own photorealistic, sometimes Art Deco style works—many of which heralded “the power of men and machines,” as the National Gallery of Art put it.
Slum Clearance,” 1939
Lozowick gives us a majestic city from soaring vantage points—the Brooklyn Bridge and the Third Avenue El—as well as forgotten pockets and corners under elevated tracks and along Manhattan’s industrial edges, where the new and old New York sometimes collide.
Though his focus is on how machines transformed the look and feel of the city, Lozowick doesn’t lose sight of the humanity driving the trucks and trains, powering the factories, and building the skyscrapers.
Traffic,” 1930
Of all the images in this post, only “Third Avenue” includes no human form. But humanity is there; someone is at the controls of the train.
Louis Lozowick Subway station.tif A 1936 lithograph by Louis Lozowick. Retained by the New York Public Library.
Louis Lozowick’s 1939 lithograph Roof and Sky. Created as part of the Works Progress Administration. Retained by the New York Public Library. Cropped to remove archival photo implements.
One of the buildings in the Gyeongbokgung royal palace complex in northern Seoul. The palace was first constructed in 1394 and reconstructed in 1867, it was the main and largest palace of the Five Grand Palaces.
LAURA HUSSEY 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
Dr. Rosetta Sherwood Hall was born in Liberty in Sullivan County, NY on September 19th, 1865, grew up on the family farm and attended the Chestnut Ridge School and the Liberty Normal Institute.
After receiving her teaching degree from Oswego, she taught in local schools for a few years before entering the Women’s Medical College of Pennsylvania, graduating in 1886, and becoming a missionary doctor in Korea in 1890.
Women’s Medical College
Her pioneering work with deaf and blind Korean children and her founding of what eventually became the Korea University College of Medicine in Seoul.
In the middle part of the 19th century, Liberty’s Walnut Mountain was commonly referred to as Mount Sherwood, and Fanton Sherwood owned it and much of the land in its vicinity. According to the July 5th, 1895 edition of the Sullivan County Record newspaper, Fanton Sherwood gave his son, Roosevelt Rensselaer Sherwood, “50 acres of land, along with a yoke of oxen, horse, sheep and a year’s provisions valued at $1,000” when he reached 21 years of age, and Roosevelt began to farm the land, eventually marrying three times and fathering seven children, the youngest of which was Rosetta.
Rosetta’s mother, Phoebe Gildersleeve Sherwood, was a devout and active member of the Methodist Episcopal Church in Liberty, and Rosetta was raised with strong ties to the religion, so it was no surprise that she became involved with the United Methodist Women, working in a clinic they ran in Manhattan.
It was while she was working in the clinic that she met a Canadian medical doctor, William Hall, whom she married in 1892. By that time, the couple was two years into what was supposed to be a five year mission to Korea.
It turned out to be considerably more than that, and although it was difficult for her to say good bye to her family and leave the comfort of her Liberty home, Rosetta Sherwood did just that in August of 1890.
“I was up at 5 a.m. and dressed,” she wrote in her diary that day. “Miss Lewis of the New York Deaconess Home and I ate a lunch, and then it was time to say goodbye, that long goodbye, for five years or and perhaps longer. Mother and I said it out in the kitchen, as we kissed each other with tears in our eyes — and hearts too, I feel. Then came Father, and I couldn’t say one word. He hoped I would be happy in my work and asked me to remember him in my prayers.”
During the couple’s work in the Korean city of Pyongyang, Dr. William Hall contracted typhus and died in 1894, leaving Rosetta alone to raise their son, Sherwood, believed to be the first Caucasian child ever born in Korea, and an at that time still unborn daughter.
After burying her beloved husband, Rosetta returned to New York with her infant son and a daughter in her womb,” Hyun Sue Kim wrote in the introduction to the 2015 publication of the “Diary of Rosetta Hall 1890.” “While in the states, she furthered the work she undertook in Korea. She oversaw the education of Esther Pak Kim, Korea’s first female doctor of medicine, who received her M.D. degree in 1900 at the Baltimore Woman’s Medical College; she raised funds and established the Hall Memorial Hospital in Pyongyang in February, 1897; and she published a biography of her husband in August 1897. It was during this time that Rosetta visited the New York Institute for the Blind and drew from New York Point to begin development of Korean Braille.”Dr. Hall returned to Korea in 1897, and went to work again in the mission in Pyongyang where she and her late husband had served before. Unfortunately, not long after she arrived at the mission, her daughter, Edith Margaret, died of dysentery.“In the summer of 1901, Dr. Rosetta Hall returned to New York for the second time, physically and mentally exhausted. After recuperating at the Castile Sanatorium for eight months, she again returned to Korea in the spring of 1903. Until her retirement in 1933, she remained steadfast in her work,” Kim wrote. “She founded the Women’s Medical Training Classes in Pyongyang and Seoul; her class in Seoul would later become the Women’s Medical Institute, the precursor to Korea University’s College of Medicine. She established four hospitals: the Baldwin Dispensary in Seoul (1892), The Woman’s Hospital of Extended Grace in Pyongyang (1894), the Hall Memorial Hospital in Pyongyang (1897), and the Chemulpo Women’s Hospital (1921).”In addition, Dr. Hall’s work with the blind and deaf in Korea was groundbreaking, and many advances were made through her efforts. She was instrumental in establishing the first Convention on the Education of the Blind and Deaf of the Far East, in 1914, as well as the Children’s Welfare Clinic in Seoul and the Edith Margaret Children’s Wards in Pyongyang. In all, she spent 44 years in Korea, effectively revolutionizing medical care there, particularly for children and the disabled.Rosetta Sherwood Hall died on April 5th, 1951. She is buried in the Yanghwajin Foreign Missionary Cemetery in Seoul.Photo of Dr. Rosetta Sherwood Hall.
We do not know the fate of the medical facilities in Pyongyang, now North Korea.
Summit Hotel on Lexington Avenue ED LITCHER, ANDY SPARBERG, LAURA HUSSEY AND ARON EISENPREISS GOT IT RIGHT
Sources
New York Almanack
Edited by Deborah Dorff ALL PHOTOS COPYRIGHT RIHS. 2022 (C) PHOTOS IN THIS ISSUE (C) JUDITH BERDY RIHS
FUNDING PROVIDED BY ROOSEVELT ISLAND OPERATING CORPORATION PUBLIC PURPOSE GRANTS CITY COUNCIL REPRESENTATIVE BEN KALLOS DISCRETIONARY FUNDING THRU DYCD
