The Remains of the Day

May 20, 2012

…things like memory, how one uses memory for one’s own purposes, one’s own end, those things interest me… deeply.

—Kazuo Ishiguro

Some of you may have noticed that I have never written about Etan Patz on this blog.  A gaping hole, if my mission is to record SoHo memory.  I “neglected” to write about him for a number of reasons.  First, out of respect for his family, not wanting to add to the no doubt numerous daily reminders of his absence.  Also, because I did not know what to say.  Nothing I wrote could possibly sum up the event, the time, the place, the emotions, the lack.  But after the FBI and NYPD reopened the case of Etan Patz’s 1979 disappearance and descended upon the corner of Prince and Wooster last month, our neighborhood (once again) became the center of a media circus and I feel that I should now put in my two cents, an ante much smaller than the deluge of on-the-scene reporting of late, but worth something, I hope. Read the rest of this entry »

Guest Post Series: Dorothy Koppelman

May 19, 2012

Dorothy Koppelman

The artist Dorothy Koppelman, now 92 years old, has lived in SoHo since 1963.  She found this blog quite by accident when she was looking up something else, and how lucky we are that she did!  She got in touch and sent me her “Broome Street Story,” an essay about how she came to SoHo and what she has been doing here over the past (gulp!) almost 50 years.  She also sent in a beautiful assemblage that she did for an exhibition at the Puffin Room that tells her story through text and images on paper.  There are very few people in SoHo today who can say they were here in the early-60′s.  Dorothy is one of them, and here is her story. Read the rest of this entry »

Worth a Thousand Words

April 28, 2012

This fabulous photo came to me recently from future guest post author, Dorothy Koppelman, who was an early SoHo pioneer.

In preparing a book proposal based on The SoHo Memory Project, I am looking for photographs that illustrate what our lives were like in the good ol’ days.   If you have any photos that you would like to include, please email them to sohomemory@gmail.com. If you do not have a scanner, please contact me, and I will arrange to have your image scanned.

In a few weeks, I will post our collective photo album.  Thanks for digging into your personal archives, and  I look forward to seeing your photos!

Guest Post Series: Jim Stratton

April 21, 2012

Jim Stratton, ca. 1977

In 1977, Jim Stratton, former UPI reporter, urban affairs columnist for the SoHo Weekly News and veteran SoHo loft dweller, published a book entitled Pioneering in the Urban Wilderness about the pioneering spirit he encountered in “the dilapidated and underused spaces of America’s disaster areas” in cities across the United States, including New York, where people had converted non-residential buildings into alternative living areas.  The following is an excerpt from this book entitled “Loft Childen,” about how his own children found amusement and education while growing up in the chaotic environment of ongoing construction, something all of us “loft children” can relate to!

Loft Children

by Jim Stratton

How loft construction affects the child's perceptions. Jeremy (age 5) conceives of his loft building in three stories. His double-bunk shares the top floor with a bowling alley, there's a carpentry shop in Two, and a kitchen and bathroom on One. Note the mouse still in residence on the second floor.

A loft under construction—which is most of the time—may cause an adult to stagger, but children seem to take it easily in their shorter strides.  There are many interesting things to play with, if their parents don’t catch them first.  Nails can make an exciting clatter as they pour out on the floor, and the gleam brightly when distributed uniformly across a large space.  Taping compound is fun when you take the top off a tin and make the gloop into little balls—then dry rock hard on whatever surface they may have left on, and it can be fun watching parents chisel them off again.  Sawdust can be even more fun if it’s mixed with something runny, like chocolate syrup.  And until the downstairs neighbor comes running up to tell mommy, those holes in the floor can be wonderful places to put small pieces of brick and glasses of water. Read the rest of this entry »

SOS (The SoHo of the 70′s)!

April 14, 2012

Spring Street Books (photo: Bob Edelson source: sohobooks.net)

After much encouragement from readers (for which I am eternally grateful), I have decided to write a proposal for a book based on The SoHo Memory Project.  Every good book needs a great title to pique a reader’s interest, and I am stuck.  I can’t think of a title that sums up everything we’ve discussed over the last year and change.  So I am writing today to ask for your help.  If anyone out there has any ideas for titles, please send them to me, either by writing a comment below or by emailing me at sohomemory@gmail.com.  Thanks, and I look forward to hearing from you!

P.S. If you happen to know an agent or publisher who would be interested in this project, please let me know!

SoHo 101: The Donald Judd Foundation and 101 Spring Street

April 7, 2012

101 Spring Street in 1973 (photo: N.Y. Landmarks Preservation Commission)

If you walk by the corner of Mercer and Spring Streets these days, you will see a building shrouded in (soon to be removed) scaffolding and netting. 101 Spring Street, the former residence and studio of artist Donald Judd, is currently being restored by The Donald Judd Foundation.  The only single-use cast iron building left in SoHo, it is slated to reopen in 2013 as a “museum” that presents the building as it was when it was new and the interior, including the furnishings and works of art it houses, as it was when Judd lived and worked there.  As William Hamilton writes in his New York Times article about the restoration project, “101 Spring Street will have accomplished a rare feat: a restoration that honors both the building’s history and an artist’s legacy, from two points in time 100 years apart.” Read the rest of this entry »

Guest Post Series: M. Lynch

March 24, 2012

West Broadway in the late 70's or early 80's (photo: Mira Schor via The Huffington Post)

West Broadway has always been a main thoroughfare in SoHo.  What happens on West Broadway is often a good indicator of what’s going on in SoHo in general.  In the past, I’ve written posts about the possible renaming of West Broadway to Jackson Pollock Place (see the post here), about an early gallery on West Broadway that was perhaps a bit before its time (see the post here), about a proposal to build a mega-sports complex (see the post here), and about the pig roasts at the bodega (see the post here).

In an effort to include a spectrum of voices with a spectrum of approaches to SoHo memory, I would like to introduce you to the very interesting work of M. Lynch, who traced the evolution of SoHo by studying the businesses along West Broadway through the decades between the 1960’s through the 1990’s:

West Broadway is the illustrative case-in-point for the evolution of SoHo. Successive businesses along the same commercial corridor trace the ever-changing history of the neighborhood. Over the five blocks in SoHo there was a constant movement of businesses in and out of the buildings along West Broadway. In the sixties new enterprises were still industrial and commercial concerns, just different companies. From the 1970s onward the new types of businesses along West Broadway – galleries, restaurants, clothing boutiques and retail outlets – represented a shift in the orientation of SoHo from an industrial backwater into a hip and increasingly affluent residential community. (page 3)

The following is an excerpt from her thesis. Read the rest of this entry »

Setting the Bar

March 10, 2012

The facade of the Broome Street Bar, date unknown (photo: NYC Landmarks Preservation Commission)

For a neighborhood that had, aside from one church that was torn down, no houses of worship, no schools to speak of, and few restaurants, SoHo sure had a lot of bars.  And many of them seemed to have been named for the street on which they were located.  Other than THE BAR, i.e. Fanelli’s (see my post on Fanelli’s here), there was the Spring Street Bar, the Prince Street Bar, the Greene Street Cafe, and, of course, Bob and Kenn’s Broome Street Bar.  Again, as I was a mere tot back in the early 70′s when the Broome Street Bar opened and when the Spring Street Bar was at the height of its popularity, I am probably not the best person to be writing about this, but I thought they should get a mention here, as they were an integral part of the SoHo community.  Those of you who were of age back then can fill in the gaps.

The Spring Street Bar at the conver of West Broaday (photo: Straatis/Flickr)

The Spring Street Bar opened in January 1972, and, according to Anderson and Archer’s SoHo: The Essential Guide to Art and Life in Lower Manhattan, it was “the crossroads of West Broadway and on any given day or night you [were] likely to see Holly Solomon, Leo Castelli or Paula Cooper having lunch with clients or an artist of two.”  So I guess it was for the arty-types.  It also supposedly set the tone for the “SoHo-style” restaurant when it expanded and renovated in 1977, with its “brown epoxy tables, angular windows and saffron orange bar” serving “Italian whole-wheat bread and potted butter, quiches, spinach salad and entrees that interpret both French and American cooking.”  If that doesn’t sound like every neighborhood meal I had with my family in my tween years. . .

The Prince Street Bar opened in 1975 and was a standard food and fancy drinks—burgers and pina coladas (those were considered fancy once)—kind of place.  The chef apparently had a thing for adding liqueurs to everything, so you could have vodka in your gazpacho and Amaretto on your Haagen  Dazs.  Alcoholics beware.  The space is occupied by a Camper Store now, but I can’t remember when the transition was made from foodwares to footwear.

The Greene Street Cafe was a little different from the rest.  Opened in 1979 by urbanist and developer Tony Goldman, the Greene Street Cafe was a jazz supper club, the likes of which, until then, New York hadn’t seen since the 1950′s.  He also opened SoHo Kitchen and Bar, which was down the street.  Thus began the true transformation of SoHo nightlife from an assortment of artists bars to a magnet for a new breed of urbanite, the “yuppie” (short for “young, urban professional,” a term that was coined by lawyer, author, and all-around cool person, Marissa Piesman in The Yuppie Handbook).

And finally, the last bar standing, the Broome Street Bar, a meeting place for neighborhood artists, including the late Bobby Bolles (see my post on him here), since it opened in 1972.  Another artist associated with the Broome Street Bar is Mako Tanaka, whose book Thirty Years at The Broome Street Bar: Drawings by Mako Tanaka (Beechwoods Press, Callicoon, NY, 2005), according to Amazon.com “collects works from over four decades of chalk drawings by artist Mako Tanaka that he has been drawing on the blackboard at the Soho, New York landmark since 1973.”

Housed in what might be the oldest building in SoHo dating from 1825 with shutters and slanted roofs, it is certainly one of the quaintest-looking buildings in the neighborhood. Originally owned by brothers Bob and Kenn Reisdorf, Bob left the business some time ago but his name still remains.  A whorehouse in its earliest days, the building has housed a series of bar/restaurants since the 1850′s, but has been a burger and beer joint since the early-1970′s when SoHo was a haven for artists and before West Broadway became the Rodeo Drive of the East Coast.

Broome Street Bar

Of the four bars mentioned above, the Broome Street Bar is the only one still in existence.  Do they still serve burgers in pita bread?  I haven’t been there in some time, partially because it’s not that close to my house and also not one the way to or from anywhere I go, but also because I could never get used to eating a burger in a pita.  And that they didn’t have french fries and that they served their salads in these little tiny bowls overflowing with lettuce that was very cumbersome to eat.  But that’s just me.  Countless others have made the bar their second home, and I must admit that they have managed to maintain a laid-back vibe as well as somewhat reasonable prices amidst the mayhem of today’s SoHo.

The Broome Street Bar carries on.  The Spring Street Bar, the Prince Street Bar, and the Greene Street Cafe are no more.  I remember them being there, and then they were gone.  Which was the first to go?  The last?  Every time I turn a corner it seems that some old store or restaurant has been replaced, seemingly overnight without my noticing, by a Chanel or an H&M.  But the day I turn the corner onto west Broadway and find that Bob and Kenn’s has been taken over by TGI Friday’s, I’m outta here.

Lofty Ideals

February 25, 2012

David Mancuso, date unknown (photo: DiscoMusic.com)

Who knew that as my mother was blowing up balloons for my fifth birthday party, someone else arond the corner was blowing up balloons for another kind of party all together? In 1974, when I turned 5, David Mancuso moved to 99 Prince Street, where the Mercer Hotel stands now. Mancuso is the founder of the legendary “house” party known as “The Loft,” which has been referred to as the proto-discotheque, the original rave, where the expression, “I’m on the list” was probably first uttered.

Mancuso moved to New York City from Utica, NY in the early 1960’s and ended up in a loft on Broadway near Bleecker in 1965. His love for music and his keen interest in electronics led him to invest in a high-quality, state-of-the-art sound system that provided the audio backdrop for the many parties he threw. After a while, in order to finance the parties, Mancuso began charging a nominal fee. This allowed him to continue providing food, refreshments, even cigarettes and LSD, to his guests, as well as balloons, hundreds of them, which he would place in a parachute suspended from the ceiling that would be released during the night, showering partygoers with multi-colored orbs. At some point, Mancuso also obtained an antique mirrored ball, the kind used at dance marathons during the Depression, that was likely the first of many to reflect little droplets of light over hoards of sweaty, gyrating dancers hot with the fever of Saturday night.

Painter Andre Joseph Grill at The Loft. This is one of the few extant photos of The Loft, as Mancuso prohibited photography. (photo: theloftnyc.com)

Not just anyone could show up for one of Mancuso’s parties. You had to be invited. You had to know someone. Or at least know someone who knew someone who could introduce you. Mancuso, who is said to have been a bit paranoid, did not want any “outsiders” to be admitted. There was someone attending the door, checking membership cards (with a picture of Our Gang printed on them), and even after a 1974 move to the ground floor and basement of 99 Prince Street, even celebrities were turned away for not being “on the list” while Jimmy from the South Bronx was admitted no questions asked.

Of the original Broadway location, New York Magazine writes (July 1, 1974):

This is the masterpiece of the New York discotheque; an unbeatable sound system, remarkable refreshments (continually replenished fresh fruit and ice cream parfaits), and the most sophisticated and varied collection of hard partyers ever to cram a dance floor. David, the D.J. and guiding spirit, plays music that is as inspiring and as eclectic as the crowd. David is generally credited as the reigning genius of the private-party concept. The membership-only policy of the Loft is among the most difficult to crack in the city. Call up your maddest friend, who may be a member. Otherwise, don’t bother.

A painting of the scene at THe Loft by Andre Joseph Grill (image: theloftnyc.com)

The Loft continued to throw parties well into the 1980’s in SoHo, and throughout, Mancuso remained a “house party” purist. He threw parties in his house, in his loft. It was neither nightclub nor a bar.  He did not want cigarette vending machines because their distribution was controlled by organized crime, just as he did not want a liquor license, because those were controlled by the government.  It was very counter-culture in its approach, distrusting anything organized.  Although most attendees came under one influence or another, a no-drug-dealing policy was strictly enforced and sellers were given warning and then blacklisted if they did not comply. There was no catering involved, except on the most homey level. Home-made punch and snacks were served to guests, never brand-name beverages or foods.

Mancuso is also credited with creating the first record pool, in partnership with Steve D’Aquisto.  He unified New York’s DJs by creating a central point from which record labels could distribute their records to members of the pool.  A former employee of The Loft remembers:

Record companies eagerly supplied their latest releases to the group of dozens of DJs who belonged to the Record Pool. That would give them instant outreach to the club DJs, without having to go though DJs on the radio to get their records heard. These club DJs benefitted by saving time and money when seeking out the latest vinyl. (When I use “DJs” here, it usually refers to club DJs, not radio DJs)

So, for instance, say a club DJ played a new song, and everyone in the joint gets up and dances, and then goes out and buys it, and tell their friends about this great new record, who go out and buy it, and so forth.

This chain reaction – believe it or not – was just as effective in many cases in producing a hit song than having it played on radio.

Indeed, many songs now considered dance classics were first popularized in clubs long before they were ever heard on radio. (Radio DJs would also go to these clubs, see the crowd’s reaction to a great dance song, and then play it on their radio show.)

Democratic, non-profit, the record pool was created for love of the music, and not for personal gain. Members of the pool, along with others associated with The Loft, went on to influence the founding other clubs in New York such as the Paradise Garage, The Gallery, and The Saint and essentially set musical trends during the heyday of Disco.

Painting of the scene at The Loft by Penny Grill (image: theloftnyc.com)

So who knew that all this was going on, just around the corner, while I was playing pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey with my friends a few doors down? Apparently, many people did. Mancuso is still around, somewhere in the East Village, and he even throws one of his parties once in a while.  When DiscoMusic.com asked him how much longer he intends to continue with his parties, he replied, “To my last breath-if they let me do it, sure. A party is made of many components: the group, the music… It’s a whole-shared environment and there are many pillars that give it strength. It doesn’t revolve around the person. Once that starts to happen, forget about it.”

Guest Post Series: Cammy

February 11, 2012

Camilla McGuire

This is a guest post that was submitted by a reader I had never met before.  Here name is Camilla McGuire, known as Cammy to her friends, and she has lived down the street from me for thirty years!  I finally got to meet Cammy, who is now 86 years old, at her loft, which still retains traces of the old days—a toilet from the stone age and an elevator cab that took me back to my childhood.  We are now friends, and we share the bond of place, one that I am learning is quite powerful and enduring.

My SoHo Memories

by Camilla McGuire

I was an art teacher living on Long Island in 1969 and studying for my Masters Degree in art education.  SoHo was of course a strong attraction for me, and I came into the city as often as possible to tour the galleries that were cropping up all over and to get acquainted with what seemed to me the most exciting neighborhood ever!

I made it happen and moved to SoHo with my son in 1971.

Cammy's loft, back in the 70's. She built lofts as bedrooms for her sons.

My earliest memories of SoHo are of broken sidewalks ankle-deep with industrial trash, and though it was dirty and often smelly (this was prior to the pooper-scooper law), there is no doubt in my mind that it spawned a lot of art (Louise Nevelson comes to mind as a primary example of art created or inspired initially from discards from a near-by furniture factory). There were also things like leather pelts with soles cut out from a nearby shoe factory, wooden spools with colorful threads, and bales of colorfully patterned fabric scraps all bundled together. These bales were then loaded on open trucks and shipped elsewhere, creating a parade of traveling abstract, if accidental, art the streets of SoHo. There were also marvelous solid-wood hat blocks from a nearby hat factory that provided ready-made modern sculptures from variously shaped hat crowns! And there was a wonderful doll factory on Greene Street that used to toss out oddly shaped swirls and slabs of flesh-colored plastic residue that looked like they came out of a large Tastee-Freeze machine. What great stuff! I regret that I didn’t collect more scraps. My hat block unfortunately was stolen, and the flesh blob I picked up was given away to a friend.

A bale of rags on the streets of SoHo (photo: Camilla McGuire)

Another fond memory is of Zelf’s Industrial Machine Rental, also on Greene Street between Grand and Broome. Zelf (whose first name I don’t recall) ran the store with his faithful wife, “Chickadee,” behind the counter. They were an elderly couple who both evidently were absorbed with the importance of hair— Chicadee had artificially flaming red hair which she wore piled on top of her head while her husband wore a very obvious toupee!

Since everyone who was renovating their loft had to go to Zelf for floor sanders, grinders and the like, Mr. Zelf always insisted that before you could take a piece of equipment out of the shop, you had to listen to his tutorial- demonstration. He had a very studied, professorial style of delivery and demonstrated sanders on a square of wood flooring in the front of the store.  The sweetest thing was that I used to see them on Sunday mornings walking hand in hand like a pair of turtledoves strolling around the neighborhood. I wish they were still here!

Untitled, by Camilla McGuire (acrylic on canvas, 72" x 72", March 1978)

Another of my fondest memories is of the SoHo that will never return. Gone are the big name dealers, Pace, Sonnabend, Paula Cooper, and the galleries that were on every block. They are mostly all in Chelsea now. Gallery Guide would list all the current exhibits complete with a map of Soho, circling each location. The routine was to meet up with one or two art friends, do the “Soho Run,” see who was showing where, and what was new.  There were only three local bars: Fanelli’s at Prince (fifty-cent beers), Spring Street Bar at Spring and West Broadway (Morgenthal Frederics Eyewear now), and that other old-timer, Kenn & Bob’s Broome Street Bar. These destinations were convenient places to stop, evaluate new shows and exchange art talk. It was a weekly event not to be missed. It seemed like SoHo was a cauldron of artists’ ambitions and ideas. The air was full of explorative methods of making art, painting, music, and dance. Anything and everything was possible, and everything was permissible. Most if it was exciting. Occasionally some of it was ho-hum depending on your interpretation I guess, but I thought all of it was interesting.

I regret that they took those away and replaced them with chic clothing stores and heavier traffic. Ugh!

P.S. I never met Yukie, but I must have seen her from time to time. She would have been a small child, and I was already 46 when I came with my son Timmy who was 9. I thought at the time that Tim was the only kid in Soho. He attended P.S. 41, and his only playmates were in the I.M.Pei buildings on Houston. There were absolutely no baby strollers!

The elevator in Cammy's building, though now automatic, stil has the original cab.

Cammy's toilet is still all original, including the elevatedtank with the chain (remember those?)


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