Walking Brooklyn

Doing More Right Things

2012-01-22T17:09:00.015-05:00

Down the block at Metropolitan Ave. there is a large storage (?)/showroom building owned by Puccio, one of our long-time local businesses (Puccio Marble & Onyx). It was a big white concrete box with plywood covered window openings scattered around the two sides facing the street.

It wasn't the prettiest building around but was at least suitable to its purpose and had no pretensions to anything else. Not the worst building in our neighborhood, either.

Then, one day at the end of last May, the usual wooden barricades appeared along the surrounding sidewalks that herald either a major transformation or, worse, a demolition.

I'm happy to say that someone made the right decision and the building was transformed rather than demolished, possibly because Puccio may still be using the ground floor. One of their stone yards still sits at the far end of the building. I am thinking this because the large garage doors were left, but perhaps it's now parking for the apartments above.

They made the right choice because I'm sure that if it had been demolished we would have been saddled with another example of Williamsburgh Moderne. All colored glass and cute little Plexiglas balconies.

It's still pretty unpretentious but it's better than inflicting a gash on the neighborhood. And they even saved the trees (with luck they may plant a few more along the Driggs Ave. side).

Over the weekend I watched the (original) 1974 production of The Taking of Pelham One Two Three. Not only was it a slight shock to be reminded that the subway fare at the time was only 35¢, but the ransom demanded by the hijackers was only $1 million, and even that was split four ways! For $250,000 you probably can't even buy a co-op in Bed-Stuy these days. I haven't seen the remake but I wonder what Travolta demanded from Denzel.

This and that

2011-12-08T17:12:00.021-05:00

Back at the start of April, the owners of the Williamsburg Bank at Broadway and Driggs Ave. began some work on the building. At that time it appeared that all they were doing was removing most of an addition that was added on to the bank years after it was first built.

That 3-story addition was swathed in white sheeting and was supposed to be reduced to one story (if it was not part of George B. Post's original design of 1870, why keep any of it?).

Since then, the entire building has been encased in scaffolding from the ground up to the base of the dome. It appears, according to the work permit issued by the city (see below, click on it to enlarge it enough to read), that they are intent on restoring the entire building, which can only be a very good thing for the neighborhood.

I look forward to the completely restored building.

Further north on Driggs at Grand St., our presumed movie theater is making progress slowly; they've been working on it since the end of June. What puzzles me a little is the story that was going around the neighborhood for years about the high water table there that prevented anyone from digging a foundation. Periodically, people would come by to make test bores in the soil and go away disappointed. Supposedly, one could only put up a small structure there because it would have to rest on nothing more than a concrete slab. But these folks don't seem to have trouble excavating a fairly deep foundation. Go figure. The latest word I heard is that it is to be a 6-screen multiplex, and the thought of that just chills me. That part of Williamsburg has already grown so much to resemble midtown, I shudder to think of Grand Street with a 6-screen movie house.

And directly across the street they are approaching the end of another enormous project. The only thing I can say is that it doesn't look quite as bad as I thought it would, but that's not much of a compliment.

And down by the river on lower Broadway, we are losing a little bit of a nice view. Compare the two photos below, one taken last May, the other taken last week.

Ironically, the photos were taken in front of a building called . . .

So, winter creeps in, and life goes on, and the dog must be walked.

Going . . . going . . .

2011-06-27T21:13:00.057-04:00

I did not intend to return to this blog since I am doing little in the way of wandering Brooklyn like I did once. But . . . some things require no more than a walk down the block or a glance right and left as I head for the L train. As a matter of fact, forget about the rest of Brooklyn, just charting the Deconstruction of the City of Williamsburg could be a full-time job, 24-7.

I won't pretend that the empty lot at the corner of Driggs Ave. and Grand St. was ever anything like a lush, refreshing summer meadow. We're not talking Heidi or The Sound of Music here. It's previous incarnation some ten years ago was as a dirt and gravel parking lot, which you can make out on the Microsoft Virtual Earth map below. The red building across the street from the lot was old and there was graffiti on the walls but it was also only one story high, maybe a story and a half, and didn't block the sky (compare it to the last photo in this post).

I don't claim to know what happened but I'll take an educated guess. When the neighborhood began to take off around that time, the owner of the lot may have decided to cash in and get what probably seemed like a great price for it at the time. The buyer no doubt thought he, too, got a great deal with a large empty lot, certain to appreciate in value, in what was becoming ground zero for trendy Williamsburg.

We were sure we'd shortly be seeing another monument in the New York Developer Moderne style.

But nothing happened for ten years; the culprit being, I have been told, a series of underground springs in our section of Williamsburg that prevented a deep foundation with a basement being dug. So, we forgot about it and felt lucky that we had a few hundred feet of something that wasn't a bar.

From time to time people tried to grow things in there but since it was completely fenced in, that was a difficult feat. We had a few straggling plants near the fence.

But even without any cultivated plants, the wild growth by itself provided enough of a respite from the construction going on seemingly on every block in the neighborhood with stacks of lumber, steel girders, dumpsters, and construction scaffolding wherever you turned.

At least I never complained about the lack of a nice solid condo in that space.

This was the first summer in years that didn't see any flourishing growth in there. Except near the fence. Unless that old mattress counts as "wild growth."

Fast forward to Friday, June 24, when some building material appeared in the lot, and a small barrier appeared on the North 1st Street side. Uh-oh! Rumors about a movie theater had been percolating for a year or so and seemed stronger lately (fed, I think, by a New York Times story, the same one that wrote of a Starbucks soon to appear out on Bedford). It looked like our idyll was over. The theater, we were told, didn't need a basement but could be built on a flat concrete slab.

Came Monday morning and a truck showed up along with a large gray furry dog (but a friendly dog). And some construction worker types began fastening some new parking signs along all sides of the lot: No Parking Anytime / Temporary Construction Regulation.

By Monday evening, board ramparts had appeared almost completely surrounding the lot. I'm sure that by the time I get home from work tonight the lot will have disappeared behind a solid wooden barricade.

It's too bad if it is going to be a movie theater. Grand Street on a summer weekend now is like midtown Manhattan. Considering all the bars along the street, do we really need a few hundred more people congregating on one corner? Not really. Especially considering the behemoth rising directly across the street where that red brick shambles used to be, which will add a few hundred people all by itself.

And one other thing does bother me: One of those trees along the Grand Street side is inside the fence. Not to be too cynical but I doubt that the developer, builder, whoever is going to worry too much about keeping the tree when the supposed theater will probably go right to the building line.

There are other trees along there so it ain't the end of the world, but still . . . those trees are really striking for a couple of weeks at the start of each spring and I'd hate to lose even one of them. All things considered, if I had to choose between keeping a tree and losing a tree, I'd keep it. They take too long to replace.

Well, we can always hope for a really wet fall and winter with swollen underground springs exploding like the cemetery at the end of Poltergeist, and the movie house floating down Driggs Ave. to wash up in Greenpoint. I'd buy a ticket to see that.

Wednesday, June 29, 2011
And now, let us begin

I feel sorry for the poor dog; around that lot and along North 1st St. where the big truck is used to be her favorite walking/sniffing/people watching spots. North 1st St. itself felt like a quiet backwater where few people ventured. No more.

A friend who lives further east out toward Bushwick told me she heard a story on NPR last week about a new movie theater going up in Williamsburg. The story, she said, was all about Williamsburg's "grave lack of cinema." Now that is a horrible situation. Grave, as they say. Living so far out of the city that you have to pack a box lunch if you want to struggle across mountains and rivers to a movie house in Manhattan is tough. The Angelika might as well be in Albany. I wondered what those torchlight parades down Bedford Avenue were with the milling hordes screaming "Movies NOW!" Now I know.

If someone wanted to march in support of a reasonably priced super market in the neighborhood, or even a Trader Joe's, that's a parade I could get behind easily.

Wednesday night, June 29, 2011

They had a busy day. The lot is completely fenced in, it's been painted blue (I actually preferred the natural look but then, I'm a contrarian), and (possibly just when I was mentioning the tree) the tree by the fence was cut down, but no surprise there. Probably had they left the fence a natural brown, I would have wanted it painted; still, a nice green would have been better than a dark blue.

The poor dog is completely disoriented. She has been used to rushing over to the fence each evening to sniff the grass along the whole length along three streets. Tonight, she couldn't figure out where the fence was, started whining and didn't even want one of her favorite treats. Very sad.

Dog

2011-05-31T12:51:00.002-04:00

We have a new dog at home . . . a puppy . . . and she's taking up most of my free time. The opportunities for me to wander Brooklyn have all but disappeared for the foreseeable future. So unless something extraordinary happens—like all the trendy bar hoppers deciding Williamsburg is passé and leaving us once again in peace—I won't be doing anything here for a while.

Calling all philanthropists

2011-04-15T21:31:00.002-04:00

The Kings County Savings Bank (landmarked) building at Broadway and Bedford Avenue is beginning to show its age and the toll that time has taken.

New on Grand Street

2011-04-15T21:27:00.002-04:00

The first new place that's opened in Williamsburg in quite a while that seems interesting; as long as they don't make a habit of this private event thing.

How We Respect Our Heritage

2011-04-15T21:20:00.004-04:00

And teach our children to respect theirs. The Williamsburg Bridge dedication plaques.

Also, a birthday

2011-04-12T22:10:00.004-04:00

Just a note that on July 31, the McCarren Pool will be 75 years old, having opened on July 31, 1936.

1936 might be considered a sort of annus mirabilis of municipal pool construction in New York City. Between June 27 and August 17, through the efforts of Fiorello Laguardia, Robert Moses, and the WPA, ten pools were opened around the five boroughs, three of them in Brooklyn:

McCarren Pool in Greenpoint, July 31

Betsy Head Pool in Brownsville, August 7

Sol Goldman Pool in Red Hook, August 17

After being closed and neglected for almost 30 years, McCarren Pool is in the process of being rebuilt but won't be ready to reopen until the spring of 2012. McCarren Pool was the largest of the WPA pools constructed.

I wasn't able to find any "free" photos of McCarren Pool in its palmy days but, going back even further in time, I found a photograph* of the funeral of the pool's namesake, and I thought, what the hell.

*"McCarren Funeral 1909" is from the Bain Collction at the Library of Congress. Call #: LC-B2- 911-15 [P&P]

Patrick Henry McCarren was a local politician and a state senator who died in 1909 at the age of 62. Also, unlike some people with highways or parks or pools named after them, he actually was from the neighborhood. He lived at 97 Berry Street at the time of his death and his funeral was conducted in St. Vincent de Paul Church on North 6th between Driggs and Bedford Avenues. Sadly, or perhaps not, all the ivy in the photo above has been removed . . . but replaced by scaffolding.

By the way, anyone interested in the transformation of New York City under Robert Moses could do worse than get a copy of: Robert Moses and the Modern City: The Transformation of New York. Edited by Hilary Ballon and Kenneth T. Jackson, W.W. Norton, 2007.

It is a beautiful and comprehensive book covering Moses's career as master builder (for good or ill) in New York, and is lavishly illustrated with period and contemporary photos.

In the cross-hairs!

2011-04-12T20:36:00.005-04:00

A week or so ago I was walking from Williamsburg to Flatbush for okra. Yes, people do that sort of thing; some people, anyway. There are a couple of vegetable places on Church Ave. near Ocean Avenue that have great deals on okra by the pound. In lots of places you're forced into buying those little cellophane-covered packages with six or eight pieces for a buck. Bah!

So, on my way along Bedford Ave. in Bed-Stuy, at the corner of Gates Ave. to be precise, I came cross this new . . . structure.

Check out the prices. FROM $195,000. I take it that means the lowest price? A studio?

I walk around and through Bed-Stuy quite a bit and I think I can venture a guess that very few people in the neighborhood could pony up the cash for a $195,000 condo, or anything close to it. But that's not really the point, is it?

It's in the way of an advisory for Bed-Stuy that it's now in the developers' cross-hairs. Watch out, Bed-Stuy, your days may be numbered, your neighborhood could be up for grabs before you know it; and chances are you won't be a winner.

Curiouser and Curiouser

2011-04-06T20:36:00.025-04:00

Back in December, I mentioned that HSBC, who had maintained a branch in the landmarked original Williamsburgh Bank building at Driggs Ave. and Broadway, had suddenly decamped, removing all their garish 21st century signage, and opened a branch further north at Bedford Ave. and North 3rd Street.

Until February, the building stood empty and lifeless with no hint of what was to be done with it. It is landmarked both outside and inside so any owners' or tenants' options are limited, at least in the sense that the building can't be torn down. But even a cursory glance at "vintage" buildings in the city (and here in Brooklyn) should be enough to assure anyone that a late-19th-century, neoclassical building in pristine condition like this one could be, so to speak, money in the bank.

Then, at the beginning of February, a large white construction tarp appeared on the west side of the building, covering the entire side, with big "debris tubes" hanging out and leading to dumpsters below.

This was intriguing since I thought landmarked buildings had to be treated with white glove care. But I figured maybe they were just clearing out the upper floors of material that was easier to junk than move out.

I hadn't given it much notice over the past month until last weekend when, purely by accident, I noticed graffiti had suddenly appeared near a front cornice. Then, on looking closer, I realized that the wall where the graffiti had appeared shouldn't have been visible. They were tearing down part of the bank!

But before going off half-cocked and complaining to someone, I figured I should check up on the building's history just a bit. And, as it turns out, the section they are demolishing was never part of the original bank building at all, just a very cleverly designed addition in a similar style. Still, they have managed to damage part of the original cornice of the bank.

I don't have any photos of the bank when it was first built but I recalled a book I had gotten from the BPL that contained a sketch drawing of the bank in 1889 and also a sketch map of Broadway in 1893, both showing the bank without that addition. Whew!

The name of the book, by the way, is Brooklyn's Williamsburgh: A City within a City, Brian Merlis, Brooklyn: Israelowitz Pub., 2005. Brian Merlis has a whole raft of books of vintage photos of most neighborhoods in Brooklyn.

Now all I am wondering is why, if they are demolishing the damn thing, are they only demolishing the second and third floors and, apparently, keeping the first floor? I'm sure it would look better removed completely. Stay tuned.

New Building in Brooklyn

2011-03-22T13:30:00.004-04:00

A couple of articles concerned with the new buildings going up in so many areas of the borough.

I'll add them without comment since anyone who has read any of my posts shouldn't have a difficult time guessing what my comments might be.

These are from The New York Times, which is turning "pay to read" on March 28, so if you want to check them out, do it before then. Though, if you paste the title of an article into Google you can sometimes find a free site reprinting it.

The Supersizer of Brooklyn
Click on this link.

How a Building Dispute Can Sink a Sale
Click on this link.

Gott strafe die Nachbar

2011-03-16T20:24:00.043-04:00

I should be keeping up this damn blog far, far better than I have been. God knows I am out walking around the borough each weekend for hours now that the weather is improving. It’s not unusual for me to get home on Saturday afternoon with over 200 photos on the old point-and-shoot (not that all of them are very interesting). I have spent the past three weekends, post-library visit, wandering down through Park Slope into Gowanus, and thence to Cobble Hill, Carroll Gardens, Brooklyn Heights, Dumbo, and so on. Last weekend was part of Red Hook and a neighborhood I had never been in before, Columbia Street down along the waterfront.

But, when it comes to sitting down in front of the P.C. and sorting through the photos and resampling and color correcting and figuring on something to write, I need to concentrate my mind, and thereby hangs a problem. I have two annoying neighbors. One is annoying only occasionally and doesn’t really impinge upon my blogging to any great extent. The other, nearer, neighbor is annoying almost constantly. We share a tissue paper-thin common wall in a 100+-year-old building that was thrown up at a time when the loudest noise you might hear from a neighbor was a squalling baby.

I won’t go into details but suffice it to say that as soon as I sit down to work on the blog, something starts up. I hope the situation will be resolved sooner rather than later, but until something happens there, not much will be happening here.

As an inveterate reader of detective fiction and suspense, I used to come upon a phrase in older books that were set during World War I: Gott strafe England! Some Prussian character would often be screaming this while trying to drown or otherwise dispose of the book’s hero. All I can find to say now is Gott strafe die Nachbar!!

However, in view of the dismal tone of this posting, it seemed like a good opportunity to post some equally dismal photos. All the photos here show what Admirals’ Row in the Brooklyn Navy Yard has been reduced to. You might describe it as vandalism through malign neglect.

Despite pleas from preservationists, historians, architects, etc. the federal government at first, and later New York City when the Navy Yard fell into its hands, refused to do anything to either restore the houses or, at best, just contain their disintegration. (Admiral’s Row refers to a group of officers’ quarters that were built in one corner of the Navy Yard; they are along Nassau Street near Navy Street.)

The City, in the person of Michael Bloomberg, is interested in little but the absolute bottom-line commercial possibilities of the Navy Yard and lacked the foresight to see that those possibilities could have been greatly enhanced by a restoration of the Navy Yard to even a fraction of its former appearance.

Better to let Admiral’s Row molder into dust and be choked by vines and then torn down and replaced by some innocuous glass box.

I suppose if you’re William Wordsworth, there is a kind of beauty to these vine chocked ruins though it resembles Germany Year Zero more than the English Lake District.

Even a lick of blue paint on the gate posts or walls or a little rust proofing on the fences might prevent it becoming just another eyesore.

The Sands Street entrance once made a striking sight but after the police impound lot took over, “fuhget about it!” Those eagles will never soar again.

Sands Street entrance, 1904. From the collection of the Library of Congress.

The city is restoring one small building to act simply as an entrance to some jazzy construction. We should be grateful for tiny favors, I guess. But rather than a sop to our sensibilities, I really would rather be able to walk around inside or walk through the place. Instead it’s locked down like the equivalent of the Indian Point nuclear reactor.

There are businesses in there. Well, there are business establishments all over the city and they seem to survive without tall fences and guards. Suppose 5^th Avenue were closed off because Tiffany is there?

An overview of the Navy Yard showing (yellow line) detour necessary because of Navy Yard lockout. Admiral's Row is at far left. The "C"-shaped building near the far right of the yard is the Old United States Naval Hospital and has been landmarked. I believe that is boarded up, too.

Washington Ave. runs through the Yard from Clinton Hill to Williamsburg; it’s practically a straight shot. But rather than let us walk through and save an enormous detour, we’re locked out for fear we might . . . what . . . riot and destroy the place? Give me a break. Open the damn thing up, Mike!

Top photo is view from Flushing Ave. across to Williamsburg; the large apartment block is at Kent Ave. Bottom photo is Williamsburg gate.

Checking In

2011-02-08T18:32:00.064-05:00

On a rainy Saturday waiting for the B41 down Flatbush Avenue.

The weather has been getting marginally better for walking lately but it’s still so damn dreary with the remnants of dirty snow hanging around and bare trees and gray skies that I’ve still been keeping close to home, aside from a couple of quick forays to the library.

A couple of minor things . . .

HSBC has commenced some work on the landmarked Williamsburgh Savings Bank building. At least, I assume they still own the building. They seem to be doing renovations inside if the big yellow debris tube hanging off the side of the building is any indication. The inside as well as the outside of the building is landmarked, though maybe not all of it; maybe just the main floor, I'm not sure how those things work. What is happening is happening up on the top floor. (I am usually more full of questions than answers.)

And speaking of landmarking. One of my favorite streets on my way to the library has been proposed as a landmark district. It is most of Vanderbilt Ave. between Park Ave. and Myrtle Ave. It's proposed as the Wallabout Historic District. This is where those several cute little clapboard houses are that I mentioned in an earlier post. Some of the street has been rebuilt with new structures and even though they were designed to disrupt the look of the street as little as possible, they are recent and are excluded, but most of the block is included.

You can see the map here if you're interested, under Proposed Districts: Proposed Wallabout Historic District

Vanderbilt Ave. bet. Park Ave. & Myrtle Ave.

And I discovered when I looked at the actual map that the Fillmore Place Historic District nearby me in Williamsburg, actually takes in more than I thought: not just Fillmore Place itself but some buildings and an empty lot on Driggs Ave. across from the mouth of Fillmore Place. This includes Henry Miller’s childhood home (the edge of it is in the picture below to the far right).

You can see the map here if interested , under New Districts: Fillmore Place Historic District.

It got me to wondering what happens when you want to build on an empty lot in an historic district. I’d guess you’d have to pass muster by the Landmarks Commission, but does that mean you’d have to build in the style of what is there now? That empty lot looks just fine as it is (it looks better in the spring & summer), but a small corner structure across the street (not shown) is for sale; I wonder if people realize what they’re getting into when they buy in an historic district

An opening and a closing at opposite ends of a block. A long time deli near the Bedford Ave. L station closed last month. There is now plywood surrounding the storefront to keep us in suspense.

Bedford Ave. & North 7th St.

At the opposite end of the block at Driggs Ave. a long derelict storefront has opened as a hot dog store (the photo was taken before work finished).

Driggs Ave. & North 7th St.

A friend mentioned that he paid three bucks for one and didn't think too much of it, but that's just his opinion.

There was a little more activity at the neglected site at Driggs and Grand. New plywood went up around the construction site and some workers were seen around there for a bit but little appears to be happening right now.

I talk a lot about my dislike of contemporary architecture and it’s true that I don’t like most of what I’ve seen going up around the borough over the past few years. So much of it looks so pedestrian and boring as if it were thrown up by using a kit: Green Glass Building #5, or something; all those little Plexiglas balconies hanging off them. Most of them just “don’t play well with others,” (like the one below) and should be off by themselves or with their friends.

But occasionally I come across new buildings that look like a little more thought has gone into them. I still may not particularly like them where they are but that’s more a matter of location than actual design.

North 12th St. between Bedford Ave. & Berry St.

North 12th bet. Bedford & Berry

There are a couple I’ve noticed just lately and enjoyed looking at down on North 12^th Street across from McCarren Park. They are in a block pretty much by themselves and so don’t suffer in contrast to some small 100-year-old brick building next door (or in this case the older buildings are nondescript enough not to matter).

North 12th bet. Bedford & Berry

And they’re not the usual glass box, they’ve got some flair. The one below reminds me of Nathan Lane in The Birdcage, “One does want a hint of color.” It is a little strange because they're the kinds of buildings I don't usually like. Maybe it's the splashes of color in a black and white wintry world. Or maybe my brain is frozen from walking around in the cold and I'll come to my senses soon.

North 12 at Berry St.

Now, a block away is a really big empty lot just waiting for some mammoth building. I bow to the inevitable, I don’t think there’s going to be another Romanesque Revival (my latest favorite style) very soon so we’ll no doubt have just a bit more of what is happening all around there.

North 12th looking from Driggs toward Bedford

But within those parameters a developer could make something really oppressive or something really exciting. All told, the buildings going up around the park aren’t that bad so I’m hoping for the best.

North 12th from Bedford toward Driggs

Still, it would be a shame to lose the perspective of that Orthodox Church down on Driggs.

I am just glad to see the back of this snow . . . at least for awhile, I doubt that we're out of the woods completely yet. I did try trudging around the area after the last one and it wasn’t pleasant, mainly because of the intersections.

Most people don’t do anything more than the minimum legal requirement as far as shoveling out, so if they live on a corner, often the sidewalk is cleared after a fashion until close to the corner and that’s it. Like it would kill them to take an extra couple of minutes to clear a spot at the curb?

A sidewalk along Vanderbilt Ave. shows what happens when no one wants to do any more than what’s absolutely required. There are two buildings in a particular block with a very narrow strip of grass between them, apparently belonging to neither. The sidewalks in front of each were cleared off but no one wanted to touch the strip in between, maybe about eight feet wide.

So you walked along a clear sidewalk and then had to slip and slide over top of an icy unshoveled section before you got back to a cleared sidewalk. As one of my office mates would say, “Jeez!”

But a lot of times it was just slushy muck on the street that had to wait for warmer weather.

The last Saturday that I was out walking, I had to go pretty far afield just to get rid of the cabin fever. So I took a long circuit from Williamsburg over through Fort Green to the library at Grand Army Plaza and then down Flatbush to Dean Street and so through Boerum Hill into Brooklyn Heights and around through Dumbo to get back to Williamsburg.

Dean St.

Boerum Hill is nice. It's hard to believe at times that you're just a few blocks away from Flatbush Avenue. That's the nice thing about Brooklyn, the way the neighborhoods change so abruptly at times.

Dean St.

I happened to be looking for a specific block in Brooklyn, down on Pierrepont Street near the esplanade. In one of my old books, discovered by way of Google Books, featuring old buildings in New York City, there was a photo of the block in an article from 1896 about a firm of New York architects named Cady, Berg, & See.

They designed the Museum of Natural History among other things, as well as some churches and other buildings in Brooklyn. The author of the article had something to say about almost every work pictured except Pierrepont St. Anyway, I was curious as to whether it was still there. It was/is.

Then on through Dumbo just for the hell of it (and because it was the easiest way to walk home). I think Dumbo looks its most authentic in nasty weather under gray skies.

It looks more like what it was supposed to be, a cheap, gritty haven for artists escaping from trendier parts of the city. In the nice weather in the summer it resembles downtown Greenwich on a Saturday morning. Still, I had expected this building below to be co-ops or condos by this time and it’s still the run down abandoned thing it was last summer when I took the second photo.

It still is pretty gritty where Dumbo melts into Vinegar Hill . . . no sidewalks, hardly any snow cleared, and fortunately few cars anyway.

That detective mystery by Irene Marcuse that I recommended a few postings ago? This is the building she featured in her story: the Peerless Paint factory.

I did get a chance to read the others she wrote and they are all good. I’m sorry she hasn’t written any more since around 2003.

Under the Manhattan Bridge -- A Really Good Mystery Novel

2011-01-06T20:11:00.025-05:00

Under the Manhattan Bridge by Irene Marcuse

Literally "down under the Manhattan Bridge overpass." Looking from Anchorage Place to Adams St.

Looking up Anchorage Place from Plymouth St.

Now, what is a cryophobic, summer-lovin' Brooklyn boy supposed to do in a mean, cold winter with one blizzard behind him and another snowfall ahead of him?

Penn St. between Bedford and Lee Aves., South Williamsburg

Settle in to read some great mysteries.

Looking north up Plymouth St. from Jay St. Plymouth St. figures in the book.

I often find the most enjoyable mysteries by happenstance, just browsing through the shelves at the Central Library at Grand Army Plaza, and that's how I found Under the Manhattan Bridge.

Plymouth and Hudson Streets, the Con Ed plant, looking down toward the East River

It's the first book by Irene Marcuse that I've read (I have a couple of more waiting in the wings), but having read a bit about her books I can say that they are set in various neighborhoods of New York City. The action of Under the Manhattan Bridge takes place mainly among the artists of DUMBO and the Hasidim of Williamsburg, with a few forays into the East Village.

Along Lee Avenue in Williamsburg

I definitely recommend the book to anyone who enjoys mysteries and lives in Brooklyn. I would also recommend it to people who might not live in Brooklyn or even in New York City but who enjoy books set there.

Shabbos along Bedford Ave. in Williamsburg

I like to spread the joy. And it's not just the Brooklyn setting that entertains; it's is an engrossing, satisfying novel by any standard.

Lee Ave. in Williamsburg

Also, this post gives me a chance to throw in some of my photos of DUMBO that I never got a chance to post. For anyone who might want to read the book and lives in the city, wander over here to Brooklyn and soak up the atmosphere. If you don't live in New York City, maybe some of the photos will give you an idea of the neighborhoods in the book.

Plymouth St. looking toward the Manhattan Bridge

(The photos are from the spring and summer, 2010.)

Scenes from a blizzard

2010-12-27T15:18:00.024-05:00

Bedford Ave. and Grand St.

Pretty snowy out there today. A lot of streets in our part of Williamsburg (the Northside) had not been touched by midday.

Bedford Ave. Grand St. to Metropolitan Ave.

Not just the side streets but Driggs Avenue, a major thoroughfare and the route of the B62 bus from Queens Plaza to downtown Brooklyn, had not seen a plow at all.

Driggs Ave. near North 5th St.

But I saw that a bus had broken down during the storm and had been abandoned on Driggs Ave. near North 9th St., so a plow couldn't have gotten through anyway until the bus was towed away.

Driggs Ave. near North 8th St.

Actually it was sort of fun if you were walking and were dressed for it. There were lots of places where the sidewalks hadn't been cleared; mostly on the side streets and over on Driggs.

Bedford Av. at North 3rd St.

The walks on Bedford were pretty good. But even where most of the sidewalk was clear, the corners were generally impassable so many people were sticking to the middle of the street.

North 4th St. at Bedford Ave.

Whenever I saw cars coming down Bedford or across Grand Street or Metropolitan Ave., I thought of that World War II slogan from England: Is Your Trip Necessary?

North 5th St. at Bedford Ave.

Maybe some people had a good reason to be out on the road but I think there were people out driving for the sake of driving or at least not for a really urgent reason.

Bedford Ave. bet. North 5th & 6th Sts.

It didn't make a lot of sense because you'd never know whether a road you needed to take would be open or not.

Bedford Ave. near North 1st St.

The owner of our Local bakery, La Villita, played it safe and walked over from his home with his son, and I think they live over in Ridgewood or close to it, so that was a pretty good trek.

Bedford Ave. and Grand St.

Driggs Ave. near North 5th St.

And even a blizzard couldn't keep some kids away from a playground.

Grand St. near Berry St.

And I'm glad I'm not the one who has to dig out cars like this one.

Grand St. near Wythe Ave.

Driggs Ave. bet. North 7th & 8th Sts.

Driggs Ave. at Metropolitan Ave.

Yup . . . Closed

2010-12-20T19:52:00.011-05:00

Yes, I was right. HSBC did close the branch at Broadway and Driggs Avenue. The flashy new branch in the trendy Northside has replaced it.

I also satisfied myself that the bank has been landmarked, both interior and exterior, which does make sense.

I glanced at some of the signage guidelines that the Landmarks Preservation Commission provides and HSBC could get away with those garish signs as long as they did not permanently mar the building itself.

So, it can't be demolished and even on the inside, attention must be paid!

I just hope to hell it doesn't stand derelict. As a matter of fact, that could be an interesting few blocks there along Broadway, as there are several other landmarked buildings nearby and some nice older buildings that have no chance of being landmarked but help with the general atmosphere.

HSBC Does the Right Thing

2010-12-13T21:26:00.046-05:00

Only, I'm not sure they did it because it was right or because it was just expedient or convenient.

(I am almost back in business. I have a new PC but too many of my old photos are on the old PC. A friend said he could probably rescue them, so I am hopeful.)

I don't keep track of bank mergers and acquisitions so I don't know when it happened, but at some point the Williamsburgh Savings Bank became part of HSBC. And HSBC at that point did what all banks do under the circumstances and obliterated any evidence of the former bank's existence.

That's not a big deal if you're taking over branches that have been built only in the last ten or twenty or thirty or whatever years. Modern branches in modern buildings. A bright new logo replaces a bright old logo and no one can tell the difference.

But it's different if the building was thrown up at the end of the 19th century as was the original headquarters of the Williamsburgh Savings Bank.

I would have thought that with all the photos I have been taking around Brooklyn, and especially around Williamsburg, I would have a lot of this bank at Driggs Ave. and Broadway. And I think I do . . . on the conked out hard drive of the old computer. Still, I was able to drag up the photos here from various dates from another source.

Since that was the way the bank looked when I first moved over here, I must have assumed they just threw up those red and white signs wherever it seemed convenient: over doors, over windows, on windows, on the roof, wherever.

Now, that's no way to treat a beautiful building. I always thought that if they cared, they could have found a way to keep their name on the bank without vandalizing it, which is close to what it amounted to in my mind. But that would have taken more time and thought than they may have wanted to give to it.

This past Saturday on my regular weekly trek to the library at Grand Army Plaza, I walked past the bank and thought that something was wrong, a bit off. It turned out that something was right but it took me a few moments to realize what had happened.

All the garish HSBC signs had been removed and the building was back to as close as it could be to the time it was built, barring a good scrub.

Although, the building itself really isn't that dirty. It may not gleam the way it did originally, but it ain't bad. But if a local philanthropist wanted to underwrite a good cleaning, it would be a great contribution toward making life in Williamsburg just that much more pleasant.

And I do hope they plan to get rid of the iron frame in front of the dome. A dome that always seemed to me to be a kind of riff on the Duomo in Florence.

I have no idea whether the building has been landmarked; it would surprise me if it hasn't been. But if it hasn't been, it could see even worse if HSBC gets rid of it. If they plan to stay there, why remove the signage? Thinking about it, if they were able to erect all those HSBC signs, maybe the building isn't landmarked.

It truly is a remarkable building.

But it has a deserted and abandoned look about it now, especially at night. In some other city, this building would be floodlighted and and a use would be found for it that would make the most of its special qualities; the light below is from the high intensity street lamp, around front it's black as pitch. In Brooklyn, circa 2011, some lean and hungry developer probably has his eye on it even now wondering how many floors he can get away with in a nice green glass and steel box in that location.

One clue could be the new HSBC branch just dropped into the Northside, next door to the infamous Duane-Reade, at North 3rd street and Bedford Ave. At first I thought this was a small branch but it could well be replacing Broadway and Driggs. Strange to close it, when other banks are opening out on Broadway.

I took the not-so-hot nighttime shot below several weeks ago before the HSBC signs were completed. It's giving us a further taste of midtown Manhattan with its bright lights-big city air.

Forget Duane-Reade . . .

2010-11-12T13:12:00.010-05:00

. . . You know that you're just an ordinary neighborhood after all when the nail salons begin moving in. Haha!

That's down near the L train station on Bedford Ave. Not a great picture but I took it on a whim one evening walking home. Same with the shot below.

The now notorious Duane-Reade up on Bedford Ave. near North 3rd Street that opened last week.

As usual, the New York Times aims to put it all in perspective for you . . .

Williamsburg and the Chain Stores

Some random thoughts:

I am not a big Duane-Reade fan at all. There's nothing wrong with their products except that they're usually a little more "white bread" than I like. What annoys the hell out of me is that they aim to monopolize the drug store business in New York City.

It's like the old Model T, you could have any color car you wanted . . . as long as it was black.

You can go to any drug store you want, no one is stopping you . . . as long as it's a Duane-Reade.

There is a Duane-Reade three blocks away on Kent Avenue. People need a D-R on each corner?

Also, I like Anthony at King's; he's a nice, friendly guy who makes you feel like you're really appreciated as a customer.

Yes, we could use another supermarket in the neighborhood to balance C-Town and Tops, but Food Emporium is hardly the low cost chain I would welcome. Instead of two pricey supermarkets, we would have three.

We're only a couple of stops from Union Square on the L. Food Emporium, Trader Joes, Whole Food, Garden of Eden, and scads of other places. Nor are we that far from all the stores of Greenpoint and the Greenmarket in McCarren Park, so we don't lack for variety, just variety right around the corner.

Now let me go and check out that Facebook page!

The Boycott Duane-Reade Facebook page is interesting because there is a lot of give and take there about those wanting to boycott Duane-Reade maybe being not a hell of a lot better than anyone else; wanting to keep the high end little food shops and boutiques, and having displaced the old neighborhood residents and caused higher rents just as newcomers are supposed to be doing now.

It reminds me about all the brouhaha over Stuyvesant Town and Peter Cooper Village going co-op and pushing the longtime middle class renters out in favor of the newly rich who can afford higher prices; but no one remembers that ST-PCV themselves displaced a lot of lower-income people when blocks of housing were condemned and demolished to make room for the middle class renters.

Marathon

2010-11-08T13:46:00.014-05:00

Lately, I've been feeling a bit like Old Mr. Grace; I don't get around much anymore. Between my plantar fasciitis (it wasn't a bone spur after all), which is improving with the new sneakers I bought, and the, apparently irremediable, breakdown of my PC, my blog hasn't been doing too well lately.

A lot of photos are stuck on the hard drive of the PC. I hope I can rescue them when I get the new PC but that remains to be seen.

At least I didn't have to walk too far to watch the marathon pass through Williamsburg, just a block. And I was able to download some photos and videos to a friend's laptop, burn them to a CD, and take them to my office Mac to upload at lunchtime. A roundabout way of doing things but better than nothing.

So here are some random photos and videos of the NYC Marathon as it passed Grand Street and Bedford Avenue yesterday morning. I think my friend with the laptop took much better photos (he has a much better camera) that I may add later.

That bakery in the background of the video (and the top photo), La Villita, is the best little bakery in the neighborhood, owned and operated by a bunch of wonderful people.

Just to keep my hand in

2010-10-07T15:23:00.002-04:00

A cute Brooklyn story that only requires a link, not anything from my computer:

The Diva's Ashes

SIGH!

2010-10-06T09:28:00.000-04:00

A blog already plagued by fits and starts because of the laziness of blogger may have just received something akin to a death blow: my PC stopped working last week. Right now, I have no idea what’s wrong or how to fix it and I don’t foresee continuing this blog for some time since all of my photos are on the PC.

Stalled in Fort Greeneton Hill

2010-09-13T20:43:00.038-04:00

Before I dredge up a few more summer memories and continue my walk to Bay Ridge . . . that vegetative church tower in Bed-Stuy prompted me to keep my eyes peeled for more of the same and, sure enough, I found another one nearby here in Williamsburg,

North 6th St, between Driggs and Bedford Aves.

This is, or was, the Church of St. Vincent de Paul on North 6th Street in Williamsburg, but I don't know for how long.

The front of the church is already blocked off with scaffolding and wire fencing and the omens do not appear favorable. Maybe the congregation is just preparing to repair the church fabric but this being what you might call ground zero of the glass box co-op building, it seems more likely that another old church will make the ultimate sacrifice that the trenderatti might live and prosper. But I hope not; maybe they can find another income-producing use for it.

So where was I a few weeks ago? Wandering Clinton Hill, I guess.

I don't generally take a lot of pictures in Clinton Hill and Fort Greene despite being through there so much. Sometimes I think the place is so damn picturesque that I just want to buy some postcards and have done with it. If I started taking pictures I'd never stop, there would always be "just one more." And even though they are two separate neighborhoods and had separate histories, today they really form one large super historic and photogenic neighborhood . . . Fort Greeneton Hill or something.

These photos were not all taken on the day of the walk to Bay Ridge but over the course of the spring and summer from late May through July.

Washington Ave. near Greene Ave.

You could spend a lot of time going through Clinton Hill and taking note of all the different styles of architecture from different periods and matching different houses with various well-known capitalists from Brooklyn's past who lived in them, but that's more than I want to take on at the moment. I just enjoy walking through the area and looking.

Washington Ave. near Greene Ave.

Clifton Place at St. James Place; Adelphi Academy

Adelphi Academy was founded by Charles Pratt who also founded Pratt Institute.

Clifton Place at St. James Place

It is now part of Pratt Institute.

Clifton Place at St. James Place

I didn't quite get Clifton Place included on the map below. Toward the bottom right, just off St. James Place you can see a capital C, that's Clifton Place; what looks like a large, gray capital I on that corner is the Adelphi Academy.

Another college in that neighborhood is St. Joseph's, centered on Clinton Ave. The following buildings don't all belong to St. Joseph's (one belongs to Pratt) but they are all part of a fairly cohesive few blocks from, maybe, Myrtle Ave. to Lafayette Ave. (And beyond; after crossing Lafayette going toward Fulton St. the homes are equally attractive, I just don't happen to have any photos handy to drop in here.) Most of these are between Willoughby and DeKalb Avenues.

Part of St. Joseph's College

Part of Pratt

This one, I think, is the residence of the bishop of Brooklyn (Rom. Cath.)

Those above belong to Pratt Institute.

This little beauty (below) is around the corner at Vanderbilt Ave. and Lafayette Ave.

Paul Robeson Theater, Greene Ave. bet. Adelphi St. & Carlton Ave.

Paul Robeson Theater, Greene Ave. bet. Adelphi St. & Carlton Ave.

Some other older frame houses . . . when the living was easy . . .

South Oxford St. bet. Fulton St. & Atlantic Ave.

Cumberland St. bet. Lafayette Ave. and Greene Ave.

Cumberland St. bet. Lafayette Ave. and Greene Ave.

Adelphi St. bet. Lafayette Ave. & Greene Ave.

Lafayette Ave. bet. Adelphi St. & Clermont Ave.

And to end for tonight . . .

Clermont Ave. bet. De Kalb Ave. & Willoughby Ave.

Clermont Ave. bet. De Kalb Ave. & Willoughby Ave.

Willoughby Ave. bet. Clermont Ave. & Vanderbilt Ave.

And to all a good night!

On to Clinton Hill

2010-09-05T21:51:00.022-04:00

I think when last I left these posts, I was on my way from Bed-Stuy into Clinton Hill. Real time and walk time are usually so far apart that if it weren't for my razor sharp memory along with the audio files attached to my photos, I wouldn't know where I was.

The cute little house below is a block away from the final photos in the last post. Close one eye and it looks almost like a miniature Bates Motel house.

Cambridge Place near corner of Gates Ave.

And a block away from Cambridge Place, at St. James Place, a block party was getting into full swing.

Gates Avenue and St. James Place

Gates Ave. and St. James Place

With the sudden beautiful weather that weekend, that Saturday was the day for block parties, outdoor gate sales, yard sales, whatever. A block from St. James Place is Washington Ave., rightly noted for its brownstones and other remnants of the Gilded Age.

There are two large churches in that area and one of them, the Brown Memorial Church, was having its own church street sale that day.

Brown Memorial Church, Gates and Washington Aves.

Brown Memorial Church, Gates and Washington Aves.

Brown Memorial Church, Gates and Washington Aves.

I was going to say that Clinton Ave. was a block away but I generally forget that Waverly Ave. lies between them. It's not a prominent street and I for one tend to forget it's there until I cross it. So, two blocks farther on is Clinton Ave., the street that gives the neighborhood its name.

This young man was sitting alongside the sidewalk on Clinton Avenue between Greene and Gates Aves. giving an impromptu recital. I think he and his girlfriend were setting up another small yard sale. I asked to take his picture, which he politely allowed me to do. I explained to both that I had this blog and might want to add the photo to the blog. But I warned them that for me, keeping up with the postings was difficult and maybe I wouldn't get to it right away. Well, here it is. Only a month later. That's nothing when I think of all the walks from last summer that I never covered here at all!

Washington Ave. between Gates and Greene Aves.

This photo points up a great thing about the Clinton Hill neighborhood, it's a great place for casual strolling. To me, it has always seemed to be to be a very neighborly sort of place; a kind of tip-your-hat, stop-and-chat nabe. Technically it ends in another block at Vanderbilt Ave. where Fort Greene begins, but in reality the two neighborhoods blend into each other seamlessly.

Speaking of Vanderbilt Ave., I want to throw in a couple of shots here from an earlier walk. Actually, it wasn't a walk at all, it was from two mid-week forays to the library after work by bus; mid-May and mid-June, the last a quiet summer evening, just two days past Midsummer Eve, my favorite time of the year.

Vanderbilt and Park Aves.

Whenever I take the bus to the library (either for lack of time or bad weather), I transfer to the B69 right across the street from these houses, so I've had plenty of time to enjoy them in all weather at different times of the year. But mid-Summer for me is the most magical time.

Vanderbilt and Park Aves.

According to the nyc.gov map I use, the houses date from between 1840 and 1850. To me they are three little gems, yet they are right on the edge of what was the industrial section of that part of Brooklyn, and only a block away from the Navy Yard, so probably when they were built they were just three unassuming laborers houses looked down on by the gents further up in Clinton Hill.

Vanderbilt and Park Aves.

I should say "two" little gems since two of them have been restored but the corner one is still pretty much of a shack.

Now before I end for tonight (since it's getting pretty late), I want to add that other prominent church I spoke of earlier. It is an enormous church on Clinton Ave. between Fulton St. and Atlantic Ave., St. Luke & St. Matthew.

Since I cut up through Clinton Hill and Fort Greene whenever I walk to the library, these buildings have become like old friends I use to mark my progress.

Clinton Ave. between Fulton St. and Atlantic Ave.

Next time . . . on to Bay Ridge . . . or at least South Brooklyn.

Jumping Feline Part 2

2010-08-31T21:29:00.019-04:00

Side trip from May

Quincy Street looking from Franklin Ave. to Bedford Ave.

Way back at the beginning of May, when summer held such great promise, I was wandering through that neighborhood from my previous post, but a block away on Quincy Street. I won't say the difference is like night and day but a block away it is less commercial, more settled and comfortable, and possibly a little more immune to the scourge of redevelopment. Which is not to say that the occasional brownstone or row house doesn't fall prey to a developer. All I did was turn 180 degrees to take these two pictures. Why don't they ever attempt to make it blend?

Quincy St. looking toward Franklin Ave.

Just up at the corner of Franklin Ave. across the street from that gray box is my kind of building; colorful, decorated, interesting to look at. What is there to see in those other boxes after you've glanced at them once?

Quincy St. at Franklin Ave.

In fact, walk around the corner to the left and you will find a house that almost burned down.

Franklin Ave. between Quincy St. and Gates Ave.

It's a measure of my dislike of the ubiquitous blue or green glass and steel boxes or concrete boxes that even that half-burned out house looks better to me than anything that gets built today.

And next to that is the Evening Star Baptist Church that is boxy and looks like it might be faced with cement and but is still a better building than anything being thrown up these days.

Gates Ave. at Franklin Ave.

And on the opposite corner is another favorite building of mine in that neighborhood.

Gates Ave. at Franklin Ave.

Walking down Gates toward Classon I found this quirky and colorful building. Too quirky and too colorful to last too much longer, probably. Why keep something like this when you can replace it with a perfectly bland and colorless nonentity?

Gates Ave. between Franklin and Classon Aves.

At the end of that block, at the corner of Gates and Classon Aves. is, to be fair, a building that almost makes it, almost fits in. But hey, let's not make it a mellow red like the rest of the block, let's make it stand out, a nice cold banker's gray. So chic and so "now" you could almost faint from sheer emotion.

Franklin Ave. at Classon Ave.

But then there is this mellow neighborhood church, the Mt. Zion Tabernacle, a block away at Franklin Ave. and Irving Place.

Franklin Ave. at Irving Place

But, walk a couple of more blocks to Grand Ave. at Gates where we left off last time and, we're not in Kansas anymore, Toto. We're in Anytown USA, circa nineteen-aught-one, we are, except for those damn cars, In the Good Old Summertime, where a young man with a straw boater and a striped blazer will run down those steps any moment.

Grand Ave. between Gates and Putnam Aves.

Grand Ave. between Gates and Putnam Aves.

Grand Ave. between Gates and Putnam Aves.

Grand Ave. between Gates and Putnam Aves.

We are, in fact, wandering into Clinton Hill, where we'll get back to my July walk next time.

Which way will the cat jump?

2010-08-28T21:19:00.034-04:00

Summertime, and the pavement was baking,

Sun was burning,

And was blistering my head

Oh, I got a bone,

Spur all in my left heel, yeah,

I can’t do no walkin’

And I’m feelin’ so blue.

(Sincere apologies to Mr. DuBose Heyward and Mr. George Gershwin.)

This has not been the summer I had hoped it would be, mostly because of the sun and, latterly, a bone spur that developed in my heel (too much walking, maybe?). In fact, over all I'd have to call it a disappointing three months.

I spent most of the time around Williamsburg and Bedford-Stuyvesant; up Broadway, out Bedford and Nostrand Avenues, cutting through on my way out to the library. The only good long walk I took was on the last day of July when the heat broke and I ambled out to Bay Ridge and the Verrazano Bridge, and even that was a last minute decision that I took while walking around downtown.

Oh, well; best laid plans and all that.

I do especially enjoy wandering through the western edges of Bed-Stuy, the part nearest Clinton Hill, since this seems to be the area of Bed-Stuy most in transition these days. The Hassidic community of South Williamsburg is growing out along Bedford Avenue, Franklin Avenue, and Skillman Street among others, while the young people attracted to Brooklyn these days because of its trendiness see Bed-Stuy as a cheaper alternative to Williamsburg, Clinton Hill, and Fort Greene . . . among others.

Looking down Bedford Ave. from Myrtle Ave.

It's definitely a question of waiting to see which way the cat will jump; into a wholesale gutting of parts of the neighborhood, an attempt to integrate the new with the old, a quick and cheap grab at profits, which?

Bedford Ave. between Willoughby and DeKalb Aves.

The building that caught my attention most recently is an old church at the corner of DeKalb and Bedford Avenues. It was originally St. Peter's Lutheran Church, built in 1867, and around the turn of the century one of the largest Lutheran churches in Brooklyn with property valued at $100, 000, I'm no math wiz but I'd guess that $100, 000 in 1891 was a pretty tidy sum.

Bedford Ave. at DeKalb Ave., tower of St. Peter's church rising over the trees.

It's on the block now.

St. Peter's Church. Bedford Ave. near DeKalb Ave.

You can tell something's not quite right when you see a small sapling growing out of the belfry.

St. Peter's Church, Bedford Ave. near DeKalb Ave.

Of course, they could do a Limelight and save the church building but put it to another use. In fact, the notices there are somewhat confusing, between "retail space available" and "development site for sale" it sounds like the owners will take the most profitable and least complicated route.

If the structure does come down, well, new buildings haven't always been kind to the neighborhood. One can hope for the best.

Bedford Avenue and Clifton Place

Clifton Place is just two blocks farther down (south) of DeKalb Ave. and is a fascinating street in itself; fascinating because it is, again, one of those streets that changes from block to block. But I'm not going to go off on a tangent about Clifton Place right now. Maybe later.

A block beyond Clifton Place at Greene Avenue and Bedford Avenue.

Another block of those ordinary red brick buildings that were probably going up all over Brooklyn at the turn of the century. There's nothing spectacular about them, but maybe it's their sheer ordinariness, the fact that they've been where they've been so long and don't call attention to themselves that makes me prefer them to the newer stuff. That building on Clifton Place doesn't call attention to itself, it SCREAMS it.

And here are a few more . . .

Bedford Ave. at Greene Ave.

Greene Ave. at Franklin Ave.

Lexington Ave. at Franklin Ave.

Lexington Ave. at Franklin Ave.

At which point another map might be in order, courtesy of the New York City Department of Internet Technology . . .

Now, to be perfectly fair to any developers and builders, not every block in that area is lined with old brownstone or brick row houses and shaded by hundred-year-old trees. It's a mixed area of the residential and the commercial and some blocks are pretty dreary. Not that the new building does anything to brighten the blocks up, it just doesn't do anything to damage anything better.

Lexington Ave. between Classon and Franklin Aves.

Lexington Ave. between Classon and Franklin Aves.

Lexington Ave. between Classon and Grand Aves.

Lexington Ave. between Classon and Grand Aves.

I don't know if that factory above is still operating. If not I'd prefer that someone renovated it into apartments rather than tear it down and replace it with some green- or blue-glass and steel monster.

Across the street from the above building is the one below that has been turned into living space. Nice! Keep the greenery and just add people.

Lexington Ave. between Classon and Grand Aves.

Now it just happens that around the corner from those two buildings above is a perfect example of two different ways to handle this problem of new building in old neighborhoods.

Lexington Ave. dead ends at Grand Ave. and you can go either right to Greene Ave. or left to Gates Ave. Along the western side of Grand from Lexington to Gates is a row of old, tree shaded homes, brownstones mixed with others.

Grand Ave. from Lexington Ave. looking toward Gates Ave.

Grand Ave. looking from Gates Ave. toward Lexington Ave.

In the opposite direction, toward Greene Ave., there is new building, but directly across the street from the houses above there was also some new construction, and you can see that the developers made two very different choices, one to try to blend in and the other, seemingly, not to bother.

Grand Ave. from Gates Ave. toward Lexington Ave., directly across the street from the two photos previous.

Grand Ave. from Lexington Ave. toward Greene Ave. A different block, a different decision.

It's almost midnight and I am going to take a break now. The pictures above are from my walk to Bay Ridge at the end of last month (the start of the walk before I had actually decided to go all the way out to the bridge).

Since I've had the problem with the bone spur in my heel I haven't been able to walk much, but I have been so anxious to track down the last two Carnegie libraries in Brooklyn that I hadn't seen, that I figured today, the hell with it, I'd just take buses.

Well, let me tell you, walking is a breeze compared to busing. To get where I wanted to go I had to take four buses, the 62, 41, 12, and 14; going and then coming back. It took six hours altogether what with transfers and heavy traffic on some routes. The sooner I get back to walking the better.

Nexus, Sexus, and . . . Millard Fillmore

2010-07-09T23:41:00.012-04:00

Williamsburg has an historic/literary site and an actual historic district, even if it is barely a block long. And I don't mean the Domino Sugar factory.

Henry Miller, probably acclaimed and reviled in equal measure, lived on Driggs Ave. as a child. His childhood home still stands, somewhat isolated, between Grand Street and Metropolitan Avenue, with a grass off-street parking lot on one side and a marble and granite storage yard on the other.

Henry Miller's childhood home, 662 Driggs Ave., Williamsburg

In his writings he was said to have described being enchanted by Fillmore Place, a short block of row houses that runs between Driggs Ave. and Roebling St. around fifty feet or so south of his home.

Fillmore Place from Driggs Ave. to Roebling St.

I read a few years ago that there was an application before the city to have Fillmore Place declared an historic district and I have to confess that I thought it was a joke. It turns out that the laugh is on me because a little over a year ago, without much fanfare that I can remember, Fillmore Place was declared a city historic district.

Fillmore Place, north side from Roebling St. to Driggs Ave.

It is said that the houses all date from the 1850s when Williamsburg was just starting to change from a "rural village to an urban neighborhood." That's another indication of just how wrong the city map on nyc.gov is in it's building information, since it claims that all the buildings there date from 1899 except for one or two that were built in 1915 and 1920.

Fillmore Place, south side from Roebling Street to Driggs Ave.

So, I raise my Corona in a toast to Henry Miller, Millard Fillmore, and his place. It's probably the most respect that accidental, pro-slavery president has gotten since his death.

Fillmore Place near the corner of Driggs Ave.

July 4th, 2010

2010-07-04T21:50:00.123-04:00

This is a Fourth of July blog entry but not for a July 4th walk. I am resting up after a longish, hot walk yesterday. Last year on July 4th was my great Flatbush Avenue trek when I walked out Flatbush Avenue to Avenue V, across through Marine Park into Gerritsen Beach, over to Sheepshead Bay, and back to Williamsburg along Bedford Avenue. I just wasn't up for something like that this year . . . yet. It's early days, though.

Yesterday, I stayed closer to home around Williamsburg, Clinton Hill, Crown Heights, and Bedford-Stuyvesant. I thought that just putting down here an average walk would be nice. That is, a walk that came about partly by accident and not one planned in advance like the Broadway walk (which I haven't finished with yet, blog-wise, I just needed a break).

I tend to take a lot of pictures on my walks, a lot more than I ever put in here. If anything catches my eye, I shoot a picture. It's all digital; after I download it to my P.C., if it's garbage, I trash it, if not, I keep it archived and use it or not. So I may drop in more pictures than usual here just to give you an idea of what interests me.

First of all, I am definitely not a "form follows function" kind of guy. Just the opposite, in fact; I really enjoy highly decorated buildings: Gothic Revival, Romanesque Revival; even less highly decorated ones if they're at least made of something other than glass or fiberglass. All of which makes the neighborhoods around me great places to walk. For example . . .

Bedford and Division Aves.

This is the kind of shot I take a lot. Whenever I see a building either under construction or being demolished I like to make a record of its being partway to something or nothing.

Bedford Ave. near Division Ave.

I enjoy, too, the variously decorated doorways of the houses I pass. Walking into a house through a doorway like that would make me feel special.

Bedford Ave. at Clymer St.

This has been in this shape for quite a while now, with the scaffolding around it. I'm not even sure if it's being used for anything or whether the scaffolding is just to protect passersby in case something falls off. It could look wonderful if it were fixed up.

Bedford Ave. at Ross St.

Another interesting doorway.

Bedford Ave. between Ross and Rodney Sts.

And another interesting doorway, though one a bit worse for wear. As the photo below shows it appears it was once an insurance office.

Bedford Ave. between Ross and Rodney Sts.

Bedford Avenue at Rodney St.

The following three shots are from the same building. All of these buildings are in the heart of Hasidic South Williamsburg; a large building like this is not, I imagine, a residence, but since my knowledge of Hebrew is zero, I can't read any of the identifying signs on most of the neighborhood buildings. I like them, though (the buildings, not the signs).

Bedford Ave. at Rodney St.

I have another amateur's theory about neighborhoods like this in New York, that the ones with the best preserved architecture are often where the residents haven't either the means or the interest to change anything.

Bedford Ave. at Rodney St.

Bed-Stuy retained an enormous number of beautiful brownstones and row houses because it became a depressed neighborhood and the residents didn't have the means to replace the buildings even if they wanted to; at least to some extent that was true, there have always been urban renewal projects and new housing here and there in that neighborhood. And since it had the reputation as a high crime neighborhood, it didn't attract the gentrifiers of today.

Bedford Ave. at Rodney St.

For the Hasidic community in South Williamsburg, their religion comes first, not replacing the housing to make it more up to date. Though even that is only partly true as I'll show later.

Bedford Ave. between Rodney and Keap Sts.

Bedford Ave. at Keap St.

A little colonnade.

Bedford Ave. between Hooper and Hewes Sts.

Bedford Ave. near Hewes St.

Bedford Ave. near Hewes St.

Most of these photos don't need comments. I took the shots because I liked whatever it was I was shooting: door, window, wall, roof, whatever.

Bedford Ave. near Hewes St.

It's too bad they blocked up the windows in the bottom row; too bad, too, that they replaced the old windows that must have been there with modern combination storm and screen windows.

Bedford Ave. at Rutledge St.

These, I thought when I saw them, are a lot of fun. This is why you always have to be looking up as well as straight ahead or to the side when you're wandering. The fact that something would be way up almost out of sight didn't deter builders or architects from adding these whimsical flourishes.

Bedford Ave, near Heyward St.

There is an entire row of buildings between Rutledge and Heyward Streets with those faces.

Now, what I said about the Hasidic community not being interested in new buildings applies, as far as I can tell, to just not tearing down the older turn of the century housing. Where there are vacant lots, or rundown commercial structures, or abandoned buildings in bad repair, they will be replaced by very large apartment blocks like those below.

Bedford Ave. at Lynch St.

You can see a sliver of the older section of South Williamsburg just on the right edge of the picture. The intersection above where Lynch Street meets Wallabout is where those older, comfortable, tree shaded streets end. In fact the next block, Flushing Ave., is where Williamsburg ends and Bedford-Stuyvesant begins.

Bedford Ave., looking south from Flushing Ave.

Bedford Ave., looking north from Willoughby Ave. toward Myrtle Ave.

Years ago when I walked out this way, I recall it being a pretty derelict area. I'm not a great fan of these massive apartment blocks but what they replaced was no great loss.

On the other hand, as you get further into Bedford-Stuyvesant, you get more and more blocks that I hope will be preserved.

Bedford Ave., looking south from Willoughby Ave. toward DeKalb Ave.

Bedford Ave., looking north from DeKalb Ave. toward Willoughby Ave.

Now we're getting closer to what was the middle-class, professional-class part of Bed-Stuy at the turn of the century, Pratt Institute and Clinton Hill are just off to the west a few blocks.

Bedford Ave. between Willoughby and DeKalb Aves.

Bedford Ave. at DeKalb Ave.

The return of the trees. As I turn right up DeKalb to Pratt Institute, it's also the return of some almanac pages.

In 1889 when Charles Pratt founded the Pratt Institute, he also founded a kind of savings and loan, building society called The Thrift. That was way back when bankers actually thought it was a good idea if people saved money, silly people that they were. Were something like that built today it would no doubt be called The Spendthrift.

It was built right down the street from the Pratt Institute of the time. I had been walking by it for years without knowing what it was. Of course now it's actually inside the gates of the expanded Pratt campus and is no longer a bank but just another Pratt administration building. But it is still there.

The Thrift, DeKalb Ave. at Ryerson St.

As you can see from the buildings on the original advertisement, when it was built there actually was a Ryerson Street that ran from Willoughby Ave. to DeKalb Ave. As you can see from the photo above, the campus has consumed what was Ryerson St., even though it still shows up on New York City maps.

The Thrift, DeKalb Ave. at Ryerson St.

It's too bad it isn't still a savings and loan, students need practice with that as much as with academics.

The Thrift, DeKalb Ave. at Ryerson St.

The architecture of The Thrift and most of the other old bank buildings I pass on my walks reminds me that there was a time, too, when the saving and spending of money was an important issue for individuals and for banks and banks wanted their customers to realize this from the moment they walked in the door. Not to say that the banks didn't care about making money for themselves, they always have, but I don't think they were the scoundrels they are today. Or maybe they were just larger-than-life scoundrels instead of the sleazy types we see in the news these days.

Charles Pratt was also involved in another academic venture in the neighborhood called Adelphi College. It was only a couple of blocks away at Lafayette Ave.

A bad reproduction but the original probably didn't look much better. That building is still there, too, though it looks slightly different. Possibly I took my shot from another angle.

Lafayette Ave. and St. James Place

It's now a part of Pratt itself. We are in Clinton Hill at this point. We crossed from Bed-Stuy into Clinton Hill when we got to Pratt. A hundred years or so ago, I'm not sure there was a big difference between the two. I think they both attracted an upper-middle class and professional class as residents. But I'm no expert on the subject. What Clinton Hill did boast (and not just Clinton Hill) was another feature of a comfortable neighborhood, the conservatory-trained instructor of music; piano, singing, whatever. There are small ads for these classes throughout the various issues of the Brooklyn Eagle Almanac. The only reason the one below caught my eye was the photo. That building (what you can see of it) looked familiar.

The Boices (mother and daughter, perhaps?) had studios at Carnegie Hall, no doubt as big a draw then as now.

Washington Ave. at Greene Ave.

I was right in thinking I knew the building. Unfortunately, there is construction being done but at least the section in the photo remains visible. It's some kind of hotel now, apparently. And looking at the whole building below, you can easily imagine singing and piano music and violin music pouring from the different windows.

Washington Ave. at Greene Ave.

And speaking of hotels (this is the last advertisement for today!) . . .

Still here . . .

Washington Ave. at Greene Ave.

And again, buildings I have walked past I don't know how many times without looking up . . .

Gates Ave. at Clinton Ave.

Gates Ave. at Clinton Ave.

From Gates Avenue I headed across Fulton St. and Atlantic Ave. and up Vanderbilt Ave. to the library. I hadn't meant to go there that day; as a matter of fact I changed my library day to Wednesday or Thursday evening just so that I wouldn't have to start each weekend walk by going there, no matter where else I had it in mind to go. But the mystery I had borrowed on Thursday had turned out to be a real downer and I decided to bring it back and get something else.

After leaving the library, the walk really was without any plan except to go back to Williamsburg.

Bedford Ave. and Lincoln Place.

I walked out Eastern Parkway to Bedford Ave. and noticed this building from the corner, another place I had passed many times that I wanted to get a picture of because it is obviously a former theater (now a Baptist church).

Bedford Ave. and Lincoln Place

Old Brooklyn theatres have been on my mind lately and although I don't find a record of a turn of the century theatre at that corner, still I wanted a picture in case I tracked down what it was. It looks too classy to have been a mere movie theatre. (I see I've even been using the older spelling, theatre since that's what I've been seeing in print lately in the Brooklyn Daily Eagle Almanac.)

I turned the corner onto St. John's Place and this row of houses caught my eye. It would look even nicer if the fire escape in the middle were switched to the back of the building and if the missing cornice section were replaced. Still, I liked the looks of the row and I have only myself to please.

St. John's Place near Rogers Ave.

From there I just continued walking down St. John's Place, a street I'm fairly sure I had never been on, that far over anyway, and noticed this block near New York Avenue. This is Crown Heights by the way, an area that was a magnet for wealthy Brooklynites at the turn of the century, especially after Eastern Parkway was laid out.

St. John's Place near New York Ave.

The next couple of shots are in the block between New York Ave. and Brooklyn Ave.

St. John's Place between New York and Brooklyn Aves.

Though I'd guess these weren't housing for the wealthy; but pleasant rows of homes nonetheless.

St. John's Place between New York and Brooklyn Aves.

At the next corner, at Brooklyn Ave., is the church of St. Gregory the Great, a striking looking edifice in a perfect setting. If I can remember anything from college art history classes, I think it's designed after the early Italian basilicas.

St. John's Place and Brooklyn Ave.

As much as I love walking out in the summer, I have to admit that shots like that one above might work better at some other time of the year when the trees are bare of leaves. In fact, trees can be a big nuisance in trying to take photos of buildings during the summer.

St. John's Place and Brooklyn Ave.

This red building was across the street; I just happen to like its looks, especially the eve overhanging the third floor apartments.

St. John's Place and Brooklyn Ave.

Brooklyn Ave. and Sterling Place

Brooklyn Ave. between Park Place and Prospect Place

That cute little suburban style cottage is across from Brower Park and next to an elementary school. Across the entire front wall of the school is painted a mural decrying gun violence in the city. Since my friends and my colleagues at work will confirm that I am extraordinarily anti-gun, you can bet that I took shots of the whole mural.

They are all at Brooklyn Ave. between Park Place and Prospect Place

The next two shots are from right around the corner on Prospect Place, Some of these places look like they've been plucked out Bronxville or Riverdale and dropped into the heart of Brooklyn.

Prospect Place near Brooklyn Ave.

And some look like they may not make it. I guess it's a toss up whether this is coming down or in the process of being saved or maybe just being left to deteriorate.

Prospect Place at Brooklyn Avenue

From there I cut across Brower Park and through St. Mark's Place to Albany Avenue, skirting the edge of the Albany Houses and heading north to Atlantic Ave. and then to Fulton St.

Albany Ave. between Pacific St. and Dean St.

I love the way the row of houses huddles under those stately shade trees. We are back in Bedford-Stuyvesant again; have been since the Prospect Place mural.

A block further down between Atlantic Ave. and Pacific St. is this row. Just to give you an idea of how a street can change from one block to the next.

Albany Ave. at Atlantic Ave.

Fulton Street, which historically runs from the ferry landing on the East River near the Brooklyn Bridge out almost to Cypress Hills at Broadway Junction is the main shopping street of Bed-Stuy.

Fulton St. from Albany Ave. to Throop Ave.

It marks a definite division betwen the main part of Bed-Stuy to the north and the strip along Crown Heights. While some avenues, Franklin, Bedford, Nostrand, cross from one section to the other, many avenues don't or change names at Fulton St. Albany Ave., except for a half block, stops at Fulton St.,Throop Ave. begins at Fulton St.

Looking down Throop Ave. from Fulton St.

The next group of pictures is taken in and around Stuyvesant Heights, a section of Bed-Stuy roughly from Tompkins Ave. to Stuyvesant Ave. and from Fulton down to Macon Streets. It's a New York City historic district whose homes rival those in the more popularly known Brooklyn Heights and Park Slope. Not that I purposely chose this area on Saturday, it's just where I ended up.

Throop Ave. and Decatur St.

Throop Ave. and MacDonough St. Our Lady of Victory R.C. Church

MacDonough St. looking toward Throop Ave.

MacDonough St. looking toward Throop Ave.

MacDonough St. looking toward Throop Ave.

MacDonough St. looking toward Tompkins Ave.

I like the way the tower of the 1st AME Zion Church rises up over the trees. In fact, the sight of a tall church tower from blocks away can often change the direction of one of my walks since I often want to see what the building looks like.

First A.M.E. Zion Church at Tompkins Ave. and MacDonough St.

Throop Ave. and Macon St.

Throop Ave. at Macon St. Newman Memorial United Methodist Church

Jefferson St. between Throop and Tompkins Aves.

After wandering around the neighborhood for a bit, I decided to take Tompkins Ave. down into Williamsburg. I'm not a big fan of Throop as it gets to Williamsburg, though none of those streets is much better or worse than the others. Little by little, the closer to Williamsburg, the more run down the buildings, the sparser the trees, the more commercial and light industrial the neighborhood.

Tompkins Ave. at Gates Ave.

Tompkins Ave. and Quincy St.

Tompkins Ave. and Lexington Ave.

Tompkins Ave. and Lafayette St.

Tompkins Ave. near DeKalb Ave. Mt. Pisgah Baptist Church

This is where the battery on my camera died. I think I took around 190 photos that day.

This was probably an average walk; shorter than most if anything. On a summer weekend it's not unusual for me to be out six or seven hours, making the most out of every hour of daylight the season has to offer. The heat of this particular weekend kept the walk shorter than it normally would be.

Nor am I picking deliberately the most "picturesque" areas to walk through. Most of Bed-Stuy and Crown Heights are like this. I can't help it if a row of well-preserved brownstones makes a better picture than an empty lot next to a deli. But I do take pictures everywhere I go and will try to get as many in here as I can. It's just that it's a tiring job putting this all together. In a way, more tiring than the walks themselves.

Not Blogging but Walking (continued)

2010-06-25T20:37:00.031-04:00

Let's see, I stopped for a breather at Flushing Ave. and Broadway, on the border between Williamsburg to the west and Bushwick and Bedford-Stuyvesant to the east. It is probably the busiest point along Broadway; Marcy Ave. tries hard but I don't think it is quite as lively.

Broadway at Flushing Ave.

Broadway near Flushing Ave.

Broadway at Sumner Place near Flushing Ave.

Broadway At Fayette St. near Flushing Ave.

The area stays pretty busy for several more blocks, probably up to around Myrtle Ave, the next most important cross street and the point where the M line breaks away from the J and Z to go out into Bushwick on its way to Middle Village, Queens. Also there are some large housing projects in the area which provide a lot of foot traffic.The Sumner Houses lie right along the Bed-Stuy edge of Broadway.

Broadway at Park Ave. Sumner Houses

I'm going to drop a map in here because I think the layout of the streets along Broadway is interesting. It can be confusing even after you're fairly used to it. At this point Broadway and Bushwick start to parallel each other on the way out toward East New York, with short streets in between like rungs of a ladder.

Sometimes those small streets are continuations of streets coming across Bed-Stuy, like Willoughby Ave. and Hart St.; other streets like Suydam or Ditmars are on their own. And even if a street connects across Broadway the Bushwick side might be half a block away from the Bed-Stuy side, as in Lafayette St. (not on this map). Then you have the avenues coming down out of Bed-Stuy at another angle entirely. It does make things interesting, though there are times when you're never sure exactly which direction you're heading in.

Memorial Wall Paintings at Broadway and Lewis Ave.

At this point the neighborhood is still pretty heavily Latin though it soon changes to a predominantly African-American area as we walk further out.

Broadway near Arion Place

I have to confess that I still don't know as much as I'd like to about the past history of these neighborhoods, except on the most superficial level. I'm fairly sure that a hundred years ago this area was considered, perhaps, what we might call upper middle class.

Broadway at Stuyvesant and Vernon Aves. Former Prudential Bank.

In fact I have a pet theory based just on what I see on my walks that the presence of a good solid bank building marks what was once a good solid middle class neighborhood. I also keep my eyes open for anything that looks to me like the remnants of nicer housing.

Stuyvesant Ave. at Broadway

Stuyvesant Ave. at Broadway

Looking up Kosciuszko St. into Bed-Stuy

And the nearby neighborhood streets seems to get quieter and leafier as you walk further out.

Greene Ave. and Broadway looking into Bushwick

Broadway at Lafayette Ave. toward Bushwick Ave.

You'll see, too, how close Bushwick Ave. and Broadway are; that's the steeple of the Bushwick Reformed Church on Bushwick Ave. that I pictured in my Bushwick posting last summer. That was the avenue of the wealthy German brewers and many Brooklyn professionals at the turn of the century.

Which seems like a good place to stop for the evening. I'm not going to be able to finish this tonight as I thought.

However, a little aside; notice a pattern here anywhere? Four streets next to each other running across Bed-Stuy and Bushwick: Pulaski Street; De Kalb Avenue; Kosciuszko Street; Lafayette Avenue. They are followed by Van Buren Street. I don't know how he sneaked in unless the folks naming the streets were all Democrats. The Little Magician was the first president who was born an American citizen so I guess he does fit in with the Revolutionary War heroes in a way.

O frabjous day!

2010-06-24T19:26:00.008-04:00

A pause on the journey up Broadway . . . and definitely one that refreshes if you are a pedestrian who walks back and forth across the Williamsburg Bridge on a regular basis.

Bedford Avenue end of Williamsburg Bridge

After years of mixing cyclists and pedestrians in the same lanes, despite having two separate decks going across the bridge, FINALLY the NYC DOT has gotten its act together and repaved both decks and officially separated riders from walkers.

Bedford Avenue end of Williamsburg Bridge

I hadn't taken the bridge in a couple of days so I didn't see the signs until this evening, and as a matter of fact they may have just gone up. The signs are large but knowing the speed that most cyclists take the bridge I'm resigned to many of them missing the point for awhile. Some of them enjoy screaming at people who are in their way while they channel Lance Armstrong on their way home; that means anyone within a hundred feet of them. It will be a pleasure to get in their way and point out the signs.

There is one equally large at the Manhattan end, supplemented by a sign explicitly pointing cyclists and walkers onto different decks, north and south.

Friday, June 25

There's no point in making a separate post for a simple update. Well, most of the cyclists seem to have gotten the point but there are still some boneheaded moronic blockheads that figure they'll do whatever the hell they want to do because they're cyclists and not answerable to anyone. Basically elitist thugs. They wave or sneer as they go by. I'm hoping the DOT will see it's way to putting up barricades of some kind and speed bumps.

I have no more sympathy for the pedestrians who poach on the cyclists path on the other side. Either they can't or won't read or just don't give a damn. In any case, if they get run down maybe it will teach the others a lesson.

The rest of Broadway tomorrow, I am trying to sort out photos from two different weekends and scrawl down their IDs in some sort of order on a list I hope I can read when I sit down to get to it.

Broadway near Lewis Ave.

Later . . . . .