Comings and goings through Lower Manhattan
Between May and November of 2003, I walked and surveyed each and every block below 14th Street in Lower Manhattan gathering research for a book entitled, Blockology: An Offbeat Walking Guide to Lower Manhattan. What follows
are excerpts from my diary during the last week, while I tied up loose ends.
October 25, 2003 Sat.
Beautiful morning and an early start and I even took a taxi to South End Avenue as it is so far from public transportation (well not that far). This is my 4th time here, what a view of the harbor and the adjoining park. Then I headed for Battery Place next to Broadway. The light is always great here. The limestone architecture and Battery Park reflect the light, one is aware of the importance of this location. This is where it all began in 1625. The United States Lines Building is now a Citibank, but one can imagine passengers, first and cabin class alike scurrying about making their travel arrangements.
I hadn’t planned on walking Beaver Street again, but it called to me and I was on a roll. This block is waiting for the wrecking ball, beautiful collection of uncared-for buildings. I fell into a conversation with a milk deliveryman, who mentioned how hard Saturdays were even though there’s no traffic. Stone Street was next and it was nearly deserted. What a great idea to make it a pedestrian block. It will be even better when they finish restoring the two buildings on the south end. For a while I had the block totally to myself, buried in shadow.
I then worked my way up to Vesey Street taking pictures here and there. There is a steady progression of visitors moving down Vesey Street to Church Street to see Ground Zero. Whole families and one can feel the tension as they come and go. Ironically, Vesey is beautiful and now filled with even more light, as is St. Paul’s Chapel Cemetery. I noticed one building had the date etched into the stone at the base, 1929, another momentous year in the history of New York.
Then on to Thames Street and Broadway, the cathedral block, or the inside-out block with its narrow street and sheer gothic walls, it feels like you’re in a cathedral. Directly above is the Deutsche Bank building, wrapped in black and scheduled for demolition. From west to east the street rises sharply up to the Broadway side. It would be possible to set up chairs in the street and conduct a memorial service here.
I walked over to Greenwich and Rector Streets and had lunch at a Subway. This block may also be scheduled for demolition, if it becomes a park, Heroes Park. It was a block that was used to feeding the thousands of employees from the World Trade Center and is now eerily quiet. I then headed home exhausted, but excited by all I had seen today.
I met Kathy and Gary for dinner at our usual table at Two Boots. We had a great time and Kathy was feeling very nostalgic and took photos. I am glad she did. Gary was recovering from a cold and they went back to their loft and I walked them home. I led and told block stories. Back in my apartment, I watched the Yankees lose the World Series.
October 26, 2003 Sun.
By tradition, I went to Russ & Daughters this morning for a Jewish breakfast, to go of course, poppy seed bagel with lox and cream cheese. Sublime, nothing finer. I also brought olives and herring. I forgot to mention that I met Gary for a couple of drinks at Julep next to my apartment building. It was a crazy scene with half of the people celebrating Halloween and one guy in drag as Britney Spears. He/she looked great. I crawled into bed at 2am and woke up this morning with a hangover.
It is a gray but pleasant day and I decided to stay close to home and finish my review of the E. Village. I covered a number of blocks between Avenue B and 2nd Avenue and E. 12th and E. 6th Streets. There was a band bash at Tompkins Square Park with serious heavy metal music or whatever they call it. Totally East Village scene, but it took away from the farmer’s market on Avenue A. I ended up buying fruit and vegetables and to make dinner. I forgot how long it takes to prepare and clean up. In New York City, it doesn’t save money and you lose a lot of time. I have a poor attitude.
October 27, 2003 Mon.
The weather is very gray. After coffee etc., I walked down Essex Street hoping I could review some of those blocks. I took a few shots, details, but it started to rain hard. I ended up having a conversation with a Jewish gentleman around 60, short and bearded. He asked me, “Are you a tourist?” I said, “Yes from Boston.” He said, “Do you like NY?” I said, “I did, and that I had lived here”. He said, “Why did you leave?” I replied, “I got a better job as a teacher in Boston.” He said, “There are teaching jobs here. “ I said, “I taught here, but the job was better in Boston.” Then he disappeared into his skullcap and religious articles store without so much as a goodbye. He had sized me up and decided that I made poor decisions, and besides I was probably a non-believing Jew. I walked back to Avenue A in the rain.
I decided I needed to better organize my selection of featured blocks for my book to keep track of my notes and progress. I created a form with a map and went over to Kinko’s to use their punching machine and buy a binder, and over to the stationery store for dividers. I spent the afternoon filling out the forms; it felt great to see it all organized. The book is taking shape.
At 5:30pm I took the M15 bus to 72nd Street. I sat directly facing a 9-year-old Hispanic girl, while her mother and little brother sat 2 seats to my right. She was very cute, bright, and chatty. She asked her mother, “What does genre mean?” My teacher is always saying, “What genre is this book?” I waited and no one replied. I waited some more, couldn’t contain myself. “Genre means type, what type of book is it, like fiction, nonfiction or history.” And she said, “Oh, like a love story or a children’s book.” She was delighted and went on chatting. Dad and I went to the Steak Bistro and had a pleasant meal together.
October 28, 2003 Tue.
Beautiful autumn day and I know this will be one of my last days walking, closely looking at blocks. I started with Chambers at West Broadway, which has great old architecture. It is primarily a pass thru for the working class, between two subway stations on either end of the block. A coat and tie is almost never seen here, although a small stand sells ties. I moved on to Staple Street between Jay and Harrison. The street is distinguished by beautiful building materials, stone and brick, and a Victorian pedestrian bridge. It is an alley, really on the funky side, but often used as a pass thru. I was taking pictures, when a guy boldly peed against the wall. To my amazement, he then entered a door nearby. No bathroom inside, I guess? Nevertheless, this could easily be the most romantic block in Manhattan with great 19th century views north and south. I then ate at Socrates, and ordered a large Greek salad. On to Franklin Street and Hudson with its superb Romanesque Revival warehouses, now a residential block. The deluxe salvage store, Urban Archaeology, is on this street; they chose the perfect location. A delivery man teased me saying, “They charge for photographs.” I countered, “I’d be a poor man if that were true.” I’ve captured some 3,000 shots of Lower Manhattan.
I then went up to 621 Greenwich Street at Christopher, which is a front door, suspended high above the sidewalk without access to stairs. I wanted some better photographs, then over to Morton and Hudson, a great curvy block with wonderful figurative motifs. I finally ended up all the way over on Elizabeth Street, an old block in Little Italy that has transitioned into a trendy one. For now, it is the perfect blend. Stopped for a coffee at Cafe Habana, what a scene. Headed home to rest and then took the Path train to Jersey City to see Ken and Ramona. We ate at a tiny French restaurant to celebrate the end of my NY stay. Ken and I played and recorded music, some nice pieces, and he burned a CD for me to take along.
October 29, 2003 Wed.
Raining this morning, which is very unfortunate because Susan is driving down from Brookline. I spent the am. cleaning up and doing the laundry, and then caught a train from Grand Central to Stamford, CT to meet her. I took a few good shots at Grand Central. The place looks better all the time, and it cuts deep that Penn Station was torn down. We drove back together to NYC through dramatic skies. Sue isn’t feeling well, and under the circumstances I am so grateful she drove down. She rallied and we went to dinner at Flor’s Kitchen on 1st Avenue and 9th Street and had a very good meal. It was great seeing her, and I was talking up a storm relating how much this experience has meant to me. It is life changing, more than a walking project. I got to know myself through the eyes of Lower Manhattan. I saw myself in its reflection.
October 30, 2003 Thur.
I woke early, got coffee while Sue slept in. I finally have good weather to shoot Essex Street at Canal. And then headed north to Avenue C and 8th Street, a good block with a community garden. The large willow trees are surreal, along with the wild colorful fence ornaments made from aluminum cans. It is now time to seriously pack and as I dive in, I realize there is much to do. Work hard for several hours and then grab a coffee and take the time to write in my diary at Le Gamin on E. 5th Street. This has become one of my rituals. I will miss it dearly.
I met Sue back at the apartment and continued to pack. She is coming down with a cold, but still wanted to go out for dinner, but first I had to treat her to a present. So we went to a jewelry store on E. 7th Street, looked at a ton of things, but nothing was right. We walked up to E. 9th and Avenue A, and then crossed 1st Avenue and stopped at a great place called Cobblestone. Sue picked out a necklace and I bought a old tiny oilcan, good for holding water for painting in watercolor. We then walked to E. 5th and 2nd Avenue, which is one of my favorite blocks and decided to eat at Mosto. It was pleasant enough, but the food was only fair. A nice walk home after dinner (the weather is great) back to Avenue A.
October 31, 2003 Fri.
The day is finally here when I move out of my sublet at 20 Avenue A. I have mixed emotions. I am excited about being with my family once again and work in my studio to spit out my impressions of Lower Manhattan. On the other hand, I love these blocks, blocks for every mood and interest. I believe I have come to know them in a way few have ever attempted. I was one part social scientist, one part hiker, poured through the eyes of an artist. I have a familiarity with this part of the world, which is a reflection of the world itself. It has allowed me to move creatively through it. I have an endless amount of favorite spots, while constantly adding new surprises on well-worn paths.
With my white binder and camera in hand, some locals thought I worked for the city, or a private contractor tearing up sidewalks, or a developer buying a building or the whole block planning some heinous scheme. If someone had a fear I manifested that concern. But the overwhelming majority of New Yorkers just thought I was doing my job, carefully examining their block, taking notes and photographs. They not only left me alone, I became invisible, part of the normal comings and goings. I will miss the discipline of close observation.
I went out to get the paper and coffee at Bagel Zone. I took the opportunity to tell the owner that this was my last day. He told me to come back soon for a visit and gave me a cup of coffee on the house. Starting my mornings here has been an essential routine. I can measure the tension or peace in the air by the clientele, upset children, parents on the way to school, or lovers the morning after. By sitting next to the window, I could watch people going to work, shop, or wander aimlessly. 2 blocks to and fro to the Bagel Zone is the perfect distance for morning coffee. If the weather or the world was too harsh, I could always dash back in to grab a sweater or more resolve.
Susan and I finished packing and cleaning the apartment. We walked to get the car on Allen and Grand Streets, but first stopped at Russ & Daughters for lox, bagels, cream cheese, olives, herring, and rugalah for Olga, who is watching our Emili. A $35 dollar package to remember this place by. In a few days it will be all gone, eaten.
We packed the car in shifts and said goodbye to no one in particular, like Margaret Wise Brown in Goodnight Moon. Goodbye front door, goodbye corner store, goodbye sidewalk gum, goodbye morning sun. We drove down E. Houston to the FDR entrance, how incredibly convenient, and points northeast to Boston on the Merritt Parkway, 91, 84, 90, 128, 9, and back to where I began.
Robert Jay Kaufman
Friday, March 23, 2007
