In the 10+ years I’ve been in NYC, I’ve seen a lot of transformation in the land use of formerly industrial and abandoned spaces and places on the waterfront. Along a stretch of the East River from Red Hook, Brooklyn to Long Island City, Queens, there are more and more new gorgeouswaterfront parks for the public (partially funded by private entities) alongside even more new above-market-rate, allegedly poorly-constructed glass condo buildings (partially made possible through changes in city zoning.)
This is not too uncommon throughout the history of NYC land use: change is constant in this city. It’s the pace of change that’s difficult to keep up with. I see this kinda like I think about rats: yep, there are a lot of them in the city, and there always have been. Yes, the number of them rises and falls in specific neighborhoods due to human and commercial activity, or lack thereof. Yes, no neighborhood is completely protected — though they tend to increase close to the waterfront. Since we take their existence for granted, is there anyone who’s keeping tabs on the growth and appearances and disappearances, the reasons why there are suddenly so many more in one place and time, and not another?
Unsurprisingly, some of the folks who are intricately involved in keeping tabs on new construction sites and the related opportunities are NYC’s construction workers. This brings me to July 2016 in Court Square in Long Island City, Queens. I saw about 10 giant inflatable rats circling a cordoned off construction site. These have been in use for years, but I remember seeing them everywhere specifically in 2016. I’d seen the same evil-looking inflatable rats near other construction sites in the city. Apparently, they’re also known as union rats or “Scabby the Rat”. To learn more about this specific Rat, I decided to ask a guy casually standing next to one. Here’s an excerpt of an email I wrote to a friend about my experience that day in 2016. (Warning: wonkish content below!)
By the time I circled back to Court Square there was only one giant inflatable rat remaining. The site is the former 5pointz – you know, the graffiti mecca that several years ago was whitewashed overnight. (Apparently, the developer who’s responsible for that whitewashing secured rights to call his to-be-constructed towers “5pointz” – classy, right?)
Had an interesting conversation with the two guys (who turned out to be union reps) waiting for the final rat to deflate that led to me doing a lil digging on just how many tax breaks were involved in the site. Mostly was curious to see if POPS were involved, and – surprise! The transcript of the hearing about zoning changes and site proposals notes: “the project will provide approximately 30,212 square feet of landscape privately owned open area that will publicly accessible.” I wonder if there’s any “open data” on POPS to come… (I haven’t found a list of in-the-works POPS; only already-existing POPS.)
But anyway, back to this morning and the inflatable rats. I guess that they’re meant to signal the same ol’ story of greed and hubris of politicians/developers/investor around the city and throughout time.
Developers Jerry and David Wolkoff agreed to use 100 percent union labor as one of the conditions of receiving a special zoning permit in order to build the 41-story and 47-story towers, which allowed them to build an additional 400 units than what is allowed.
Aaand now the developers at 5pointz are hiring non-union labor. It’s too bad that the coverage doesn’t portray this as an example of a trend and also much more than simply an isolated incident of disagreement between politicians, developers, and unions. What about the people, and the city?!? The spaces we move through? Isn’t this year Jane Jacob’s 100th bday?!!
Radical Amateur, OHNY Edition: Buildings, Streets, and Walking the City
I have an affinity to hidden/forgotten/abandoned architectural delights, especially in NYC. After a 2010 tour of the world’s oldest subway tunnel beneath Atlantic Avenue, I’ve been hooked. *Sadly, these tours are no longer offered.
Naturally, in my free time, I explore as many of the city’s buildings, neighborhoods, places, and spaces as is possible. Sometimes I find these listed on websites which exist solely to inform and to aide in urban exploration, such as:
On the 15th and 16th of October, I visited a couple sites as part of Open House New York (OHNY) weekend. There was an impressive list of places as part of OHNY this year, and it was a nice feeling (#winning) to be one of 12,000 people who scored tickets to the reservation-only sites this time around. I visited an incredible Boerum Hill Townhouse (which was my favorite) and GBX, the Gowanus Bay Terminal.
Palimpsest: something reused or altered but still bearing visible traces of its earlier form.
Brooklyn and Manhattan have so many sites to see, varying in conditions from dirt-and-rust covered to luminous and restored. One of the most impressive restorations I’ve been to recently, which was also part of OHNY weekend, is the inimitable Museum at Eldridge Street.
I was there for a talk by The New Yorker’s Adam Gopnik, who spoke on the legacy of writer and preservationist Jane Jacobs (1916-2006). The September 28th event was organized by The Center for the Living City, whose purpose is to enhance the understanding of the complexity of contemporary urban life and through it, promote increased civic engagement among people who care deeply for their communities. They exist, essentially, to advance the legacy and ideas of Jacobs, whose 100th birthday would’ve been this year.
Gopnik inspired and enlightened me through the entirety of the program and the related piece, Jane Jacobs’s Street Smarts, which he wrote several weeks prior to the event. There was one particular phrase that I keep coming back to:
Radical Amateur
This is how he described Jacobs when asked a question from the audience about the tendency of individuals who exist outside of a traditional establishment to have a major impact on said establishment. Jacobs was someone who wasn’t formally trained in urban planning, and yet, she drastically influenced the shape of cities (notably NYC and Toronto) and the way planners and designers work and think today. I humbly consider myself an amateur-radical-amateur urbanist as well (and so can you!) It’s a thrilling way of seeing and being, whether on the internet or IRL, and it’s a very large part of why I love living in New York. It simply requires unyielding curiosity about the world around us and the people who traverse[d] it.
Hi there. I’ve returned to Tumblr with a new sense of purpose: I’ve been writing and thinking a lot about urbanism, media, history, sustainability, and travel.
I’m 27 years old and currently based in Greenpoint, Brooklyn. There’s so much interestingness around me, in real life and in the corners and avenues of the internet. I consider it my mission to share with you, dear reader, and participate in what is certainly an important and exciting time in the world, in this country, in this city. Here’s tryin’!
This is the kind of pigment that sticks to your skin after you’ve scrubbed it. Small stains of color stay in the folds of your fingerprints.
I’ve been practicing with stencils and fabric, creating background designs for Dr Bob. Looking out from the studio office balcony, I can see a wonderful mural by the old rice mill by an artist who I do not know.
I’d always wanted to know how to use a can of spray paint, how to layer the colors, how art is expressed in a public space and can become part of a practice of being socially engaged. My studies at the Gallatin School of Individualized Study at New York University involved history and art through urban preservation and redevelopment (among other things) and when I would walk through the streets in Brooklyn and Manhattan, I imagined so many soot-covered concrete walls and plain shining subway cars as they once were, covered in the works of street artists.
I’ve seen some incredible graffiti throughout my travels, in cities like Athens and Brussels and in the favelas of Rio, created by people from Banksy to Os Gemeos to regular citizens or anonymous artists. Whether it’s removed like Five Pointz or preserved like Banksy’s Umbrella Girl, graffiti interacts with the space around it.
Grafitti is seen as fine art, as petty vandalism, as protest, as territorial markers or warnings, as memorial and celebration, as an act of being alive. Our understanding of human life is undeniably influenced and understood better through witnessing publicly made and displayed art.
P.S.A.:If you decide to pick up spray painting, remember to wear a mask like I am in the photo below!
Dr Bob is well-known for popularizing the New Orleans phrase “Be Nice or Leave” through signs and plaques posted around the city and in establishments like Elizabeth’s and Crabby Jack’s. Yesterday, a woman visiting the gallery said that his paintings of the city, the swamp and the river are “the only real folk art” left in the south.
His work reflects the colorful landscape of New Orleans and its vernaculars – from the expressions “Be Nice Or Leave” and “Shut Up And Drink,” to the songs of the fruit truck driver, Mr. Okra – through his self-taught skills and memories inspired by a life in and around the region.
Many of his paintings are of establishments long-gone, pastoral portraits of the New Orleans he remembers. Some people have told me that photographs of these long-gone shacks and creole cottages show a lesser reality than the fluorescent paint and off-kilter lines that Bob remembers and renders them with.
The last time I went to The End of the World was for a crawfish boil. I biked toward the music and bonfire, across the railroad tracks and down the levee to reach this small spot of public land. It was near midnight but houses at the edges of the water were still glowing.
The End of the World is an elbow of levee that juts into the Mississippi River and borders the Industrial Canal, which separates the Lower Ninth Ward from Bywater, the neighborhood where I’ve been living since October 2013. Structures from the now-abandoned naval complex next door are covered in graffiti and rust.
I took the two photos above with my iPhone 5s. (It’s picturesque in daylight, too.) If you visit New Orleans and rent a bike, go to The End of the World.
After six years in New York City, I wanted a warm place to spend the winter months. I’ve been living in New Orleans since October and cannot count the number of times visiting northerners told me (as they fanned their faces in the folk art gallery where I’ve been working), “your timing was incredible - this has been the worst winter.” And when my friends in New York and family in Massachusetts texted me pictures of snow and their wool coats, I would reply with a photo of myself in shorts. #SorryNotSorry because, yes, my timing was good. I just visited New York for a few days to check the temperature and although it’s still not as warm as NOLA, I know I’ll return before the extreme heat and humidity absorbs the south. See you there, lovelies.
