Feb 7: Show & Tell/Artists Talk and Answer Questions
Show and Tell: Artists Talk and Answer Questions with Shawn Dulaney and Hugh Crawford
On Tuesday, February 7 , 2011 from 8-10 p.m. at The Old Stone House
Remember Show and Tell in elementary school? When you got a chance to bring something in from home to show your classmates. It was simple, innocent, and fun.
Show and Tell: Artists Talk and Answer Questions will attempt to conjure the innocence and wonder of those experiences. In the cozy upstairs gallery at The Old Stone House in Park Slope, painter Shawn Dulaney and photographer Hugh Crawford will answer questions about their work and their creative process. An informal gathering with wine and light refreshments, the artists will explore the themes that inspire their work and their reasons for making it. For the audience, it’s a chance to go behind the scenes of the the creative process and find out the why’s, what’s and how’s of an artistic endeavor.
Says organizer Hugh Crawford (whose work is currently on view at The Old Stone House): “I have found that talking with others about my work brings to light aspects I was not consciously aware aware of while making it. It is a big part of the creative process and often fuels more work.”
Come be inspired!
Shawn Dulaney’s work is currently on view at the Sears Peyton Gallery in Chelsea. Her style, a layered construction of color merging to form spacious abstractions, has been described by William Zimmer of the New York Times as belonging to “a very strong tradition, that of 19th-century Northern European Romanticism in which nature was seen as corresponding to human emotional states.” He says of her work, “Ms. Dulaney makes it clear that her inner life is very much a part of each painting, and this alone distinguishes it from most abstraction…Shawn Dulaney is deliberately out for grandeur. but she is also out for intimacy. Her paintings take advantage of their innate ambiguity and declare themselves to be very current in the thinking that lies behind them.”
Shawn Dulaney has worked as a painter for over three decades, exhibiting nationwide. Her paintings can be found in extensive public collections worldwide-the Hunterdon Museum of Art in New Jersey, the Trump International Hotel in New York, The Venetia Resort in Macan, China, as well as in the private collections of author Annie Proulx, actor Steve Buscemi, artist Jo Andres and musician Stuart Copeland.
Hugh Crawford studied photography and received a BA from Bard College, and an MFA from the California Institute of the Arts. His work has appeared in Rolling Stone, New York Magazine and Tattler. His fine art work has been exhibited in numerous galleries in NYC and San Francisco. A recipient of a grant from the Rockefeller Foundation, he was also an artist-in-residence at ArtPark in Buffalo, NY. He is currently at work on a book about Polaroid photographer Jamie Livingston. His photos can be seen daily on the No Words Daily Pix feature of Only the Blog Knows Brooklyn.
Show and Tell: Artists Talk and Answer Questions
Tuesday, February 7, 2012 8-10 p.m
Third Street between Fourth and Fifth avenues in Park Slope
Due to park construction, enter on the 4th Avenue side of the house
718-768-3195
For information and interviews: 718-288-4290
Feb 16: New Plays by Brooklyn Playwrights
FIVE PLAYWRIGHTS AT THE OLD STONE HOUSE!
On Thursday, February 16, 2012 at 8 p.m., Brooklyn Reading Works presents the 2012 edition of New Plays by Brooklyn Playwrights, an annual event curated by playwright Rosemary Moore.
New Plays by Brooklyn Playwrights brings together five accomplished playwrights presenting their latest works-in-progress. Here’s your chance to look behind the curtain of the creative process and find out what these artists are up to.
Another year, another great selection of staged readings of new plays (and a musical) by Trish Harnetiaux, Marian Fontana & Leah Gray Mitchell, Karen Hartman, and Joseph Goodrich. Introduced by Rosemary Moore.
Suggested donation of $5 includes refreshments. For information or interviews call Louise Crawford 718-288-4290 or louise_crawford@yahoo.com
Marian Fontana is a playwright and performer whose plays and one-woman shows have been performed at Playwrights Horizons,the Vineyard Theater, Variety Arts and more. Her writing has appeared in The New Yorker and Vanity Fair. Her memoir “A Widows Walk” was published by Simon and Schuster in 2005 and was chosen as People Magazines “Top Ten Reads” for that year. She recently finished her second memoir, Middle of the Bed.
Joseph Goodrich is an Edgar award-winning playwright and the editor of Blood Relations: The Selected Letters of Ellery Queen, 1947-1950 (Perfect Crime Books). His plays have been produced across the United States and in Austrialia, and are published by Samuel French, Playscripts, Inc., The Padua Hills Press and others.
Trish Harnetiaux is a Brooklyn based playwright. Her most recent full-length plays include Your Pretty Little World, adapted from Shirley Jackson’s novel, The Bird’s Nest, Welcome to the White Room, and Mr. Bungle and the Incident on Lambdamoo. She has been a two-time fellow at both the MacDowell Colony and The Corporation of Yaddo. Harnetiaux received her MFA from Mac Wellman’s playwriting program at Brooklyn College and currently, she is a member of the 2011/2012 Soho Rep Writer/Director Lab where she is writing her new play, an unconventional love story, titled The Convention.
Karen Hartman’s Goldie, Max, and Milk premiered last season at Florida Stage and the Phoenix Theater, and was nominated for the Steinberg and Carbonell Awards. Wild Kate opened at ACT in San Francisco ,and will be published by Playscripts this month. An alumna of New Dramatists, Karen has taught playwriting extensively, including at the Yale School of Drama, and currently leads popular writing workshops in New York. Her prose has been published in the New York Times.
Leah Gray Mitchell graduated from the NYC High School of Performing Arts as a music major and received her BFA in dance from SUNY Purchase. She has performed in numerous films and theatre projects, as well as composing and performing original music.
Rosemary Moore’s Side Street, Slight Kidnapping, The Bar Play, Aunt Pieces, Pain of Pink Evenings and Pineapple have been read or staged at the Cherry Lane Alternative, The New Group, New York Theater Workshop, New Georges, Manhattan Theater Source, The Old Stone House, Barbes and Here. Her play The Pain of Pink Evenings was published in The Best American Short Plays of 2001 by Applause Books. During the day she teaches writing at Rutgers University. Rosemary holds an MFA from the Dramatic Writing Program of Tisch School of the Arts at New York University where she studied with Maria Irene Fornes and Tony Kushner
2011-2012 SEASON
September 15, 2011: Italian Americans: History, Politics and the Everyday curated by Joanna Clapps Herman
October 6, 2011: Tranformations on the Tongue curated by Pat Smith
November 17, 2011: Make Mine a Double (Why Women Like Us Like to Drink) curated by Gina Barreca
January 19, 2012: The Truth and the Ghostwriter curated by John Guidry
February 16, 2012: New Plays by Brooklyn Playwrights curated by Rosemary Moore
March 15, 2012: The Year of the Dragon: Voices from the East curated by Sophia Romero
April 19, 2012: An event curated by Marian Fontana
May 10, 2012: Edgy Mother’s Day curated by Louise Crawford and Sophia Romero
New Work by Hugh Crawford Opens December 15
SECTIONS: An Exhibition of New Work by Hugh Crawford
Opening reception on December 15, 2011 from 6-9 p.m. at The Old Stone House
Hugh Crawford’s photographic tangles of rose bushes, ocean waves, the banks of the Gowanus Canal, architecture, and trees reify the tension between detail closely observed and panoramic vista intrinsic to the act of seeing. Created in the Autumn of 2011, the work addresses the entwinement of growth, death, and rebirth.
Synthesized from multiple exposures reassembled in jagged composition, the work is printed in sections on photographic canvas, some as large as eight feet.
Hugh Crawford studied photography and received a BA from Bard College, and an MFA from the California Institute of the Arts. His work has appeared in Rolling Stone, New York Magazine, Tattler, and Newsweek. His fine art work has been exhibited in numerous galleries in NYC and San Francisco. A recipient of a grant from the Rockefeller Foundation, he was also an artist-in-residence at ArtPark in Buffalo, NY. He is currently at work on a book about Polaroid photographer Jamie Livingston. His photos can be seen daily on the No Words Daily Pix feature of Only the Blog Knows Brooklyn.
Sections: New Work by Hugh Crawford
Opening reception on December 15, 2011 6-9PM
The show runs through January, 2012
Third Street between Fourth and Fifth avenues in Park Slope
718-768-3195
For information and interviews: 718-288-4290
No Words Daily Pix by Hugh Crawford
Wednesday at the Demonstration
All photographs by Gabriele Holterman-Gorden
At 2PM on Wednesday, Foley Square was virtually empty except for a few photographers, union organizers and members of the press, who had arrived early for the planned 4:30 Occupied Wall Street march.
I thought I saw Pete Seeger on the steps of the courthouse, but it was just an old, skinny guy playing the banjo.
By 3:30 the Square was getting crowded. Donna Minkowitz, author of Ferocious Romance: What My Encounters With the Right Taught Me About Sex, God and Fury decided to attend the march after hearing that union members were joining. “I am very angry about what has happened to our country. I want to stand up in social solidarity and dream of a society in which people take care of each other.”
An organizer from UnitedNY.org (above), an advocacy group, addressed a crowd of members in red and black t-shirts: ”We will stay orderly and safe and we will make our voices heard as we march to Zuccotti Park.”
A fringe group no more, those who gathered at Foley Square on Wednesday afternoon represented all stratums of New York City life. A true rainbow, it was multi-age, multi-color, multi-class. There were seasoned politicos, as well as those who’d never felt compelled to attend a demonstration.
Reading t-shirts was the best way to discern which groups had decided to take part: National Nurses United, United Federation of Teacher, Transport Workers Union, Communications Workers, The Writers Union, Amalgamated Transit Union, The American Dream Movement, The Brooklyn Food Coalition, Working Families Party, and many more…
By 4PM, a thick crowd covered the square and even spilled onto the steps of the Thurgood Marshall United States Courthouse, the Supreme Court building, and the US Court of Appeals. Waiting for the march to begin, strangers talked to strangers and friends found each other despite the thick crowd. I overheard a retired Communication Workers of America member talking to a young Verizon worker. “Bloomberg has turned New York into a haven for the super rich. I grew up in Soho and I can’t afford to live here. I can’t even afford to get lunch here.”
Ed Schultz, the msnbc pundit and star of The Ed Show, attracted a devoted crowd of union workers, to whom he is a hero, as he joined the march. The author of Killer Politics: How Big Money and Bad Politics Are Destroying the Great American Middle Class, Schultz shook hands and talked to reporters.
A man carrying a flag of the Corporate United States explained that he bought the flag, an American flag with corporate logos instead of stars, online for $30.
“I just want to live on an organic farm,” I overheard a college student telling a middle-aged man. ”I hope there will be a planet when you get older,” the man told the student.
China Daily was on hand interviewing a student at the march about why she was there: ”Everyone should have enough. Everyone should have what they need. Corporations got bailed out, but what is happening to our democracy. We need job creation. Students are graduating with huge debts. We need healthcare for everyone.”
The signs said it all: We are the 99%; This is the first time I’ve felt hopeful in a long time; Fairness and Integrity; The People are too big to fail; 99%>1; Compassion is the new gold standard; I feel hope…
I stopped Reverend Billy for a quick quote as he sauntered through the crowd in his trademark white clerical suit: “We are where all revolutionaries before us have been. We don’t know where we are, we don’t know what’s ahead. It’s a nice place to be and I’m very happy,” he told me.
At 4:30, Foley Square was claustrophobically crowded as people streamed south from Center Street and from nearby side streets, including students and faculty from CUNY.
Union representatives and politicians speechified on a stage on the south side Foley Square. An African-American singer improvised slogans she asked the crowd to repeat: “Standing tall and looking good, we ought to be in Hollywood.”
Finally, when it came time to march, the crowd was too big to move. Many felt penned in as the police waited to open the barricades, which would allow the crowd to move.
Not one to be penned in, I walked with difficulty to the edge of the crowd and insisted that a cop allow me and a woman with a sleeping child to get out onto Center Street. He had to consult with his white shirted superior and finally let us out. Liberated, we were “allowed” to stand on Duane Street, which was uncrowded.
From across the street, I could see that people were getting angry at the police for keeping them penned in. The demonstrators should have been informed by organizers how they would be funneled down Center Street. Information would have gone a long way towards making people feel safe, comfortable and less angry.
Slowly, the crowd was funnelled from different parts of Foley Square down Center Street and right onto Chambers Street past the Tweed Courthouse. It was slow going until the crowd reaced Broadway.
Once on Broadway, the march really hit its stride; people were peaceful, joyful, enthusiastic to be there and very vocal. A carnival atmosphere with a serous message, the streets were bursting with a kalediscope of agendas. Every few feet there was a different refrain by a different group of marchers.
We’re here; we’re queer; we’re fabulous; don’t fuck with us!”
A trumpet player tooted along with “The people united will never be defeated.”
“This is what democracy looks like.”
At Park Place, I ran into some friends, who told me excitedly that the crowd was 20,000 strong. I later heard the number estimated at 15,000. Phyllis Stern a middle aged editor and writer, stood on the sidelines watching the stream of New Yorkers go by: “I feel inspired, I feel invigorated. I grew up as an activist but it’s been a while since I’ve seen people out here. My heart is here.”
An attractive older woman walked up to us. She was wearing a lace covering on her face. “I am a fashionable terrorist,” she said and handed me a poem:
Resist
with altruism, alone and all together
bravely, boldy
creatively, conscientiously, constantly
with devotion, determination
daily…
On the subway ride home, a 19-year old student from Polytechnic NYU held a “We are the 99%” sign. He seemed invigorated. “So glad to be part of something like the 1960′s, the protests against the Vietnam War. It’s going to get bigger,” he told me.
A Feeling of Mass Injustice
I am in downtown Manhattan where I take court reporting classes. In a few hours I will join today’s Occupy Wall Street march (4:30 at Foley Square at Center and Duane streets) that will include union members, the Working Families Party and many of my neighbors and friends.
This thing is getting big. Amazing how a “scrappy” group of college kids occupying a park in Lower Manhattan inspired organized labor to march along.
A friend asked me today, “So what’s it all about, what are their demands?” I told him it’s a leaderless (and fast growing) group, with no specific demands. They do, however, have a Declaration, that was written and voted upon by the group’s General Assembly a few days ago. Hey, it’s a democratic group and they all somehow managed to agree on the following:
As we gather together in solidarity to express a feeling of mass injustice, we must not lose sight of what brought us together. We write so that all people who feel wronged by the corporate forces of the world can know that we are your allies.
As one people, united, we acknowledge the reality: that the future of the human race requires the cooperation of its members; that our system must protect our rights, and upon corruption of that system, it is up to the individuals to protect their own rights, and those of their neighbors; that a democratic government derives its just power from the people, but corporations do not seek consent to extract wealth from the people and the Earth; and that no true democracy is attainable when the process is determined by economic power. We come to you at a time when corporations, which place profit over people, self-interest over justice, and oppression over equality, run our governments. We have peaceably assembled here, as is our right, to let these facts be known…
Oct 6: Transformations on the Tongue at Brooklyn Reading Works
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| Sharon Mesmer will perform on October 6th. |
Transformations on the Tongue: Texts in Performance
Brooklyn Reading Works, now in its 6th year, presents monthly thematic readings by illustrious and emerging authors at The Old Stone House in Park Slope Brooklyn, a reconstructed 1699 Dutch farmhouse that was central to the Battle of Brooklyn and is a now museum and arts center.
On Thursday, October 6, 2011 at 8PM, poet Patrick Smith curates Transformation on the Tongue with a group of great writers whose work transcends the page when spoken aloud.
Great writers are not always enjoyable performers of their own work, but the writers in this event invite the listener in, and open up the space for the unexpected resonances that become available when voices make the words sing.
Featuring poet Sharon Mesmer (The Virgin Formica, Annoying Diabetic Bitch), novelist Tom Rayfiel (Colony Girl, Eve in the City, Parallel Play), songwriter and recording artist Debbie Deane, author and essayist Ame Gilbert (Divorce and the Kitchen), and poet/playwright Pat Smith (Driving Around the House, Not in the News Today).
Thought provoking, illuminating and always entertaining, Brooklyn Reading Works is a great night out (glass of wine included).
When: Thursday, October 6, 2011 at 8PM
Where: The Old Stone House in Park Slope on 3rd Street between 5th and 4th Avenues. Note: due to construction in the park enter from west side of the house.
What else: $5 suggested donation includes wine and refreshments. Books for sale.
For more information about the authors and the event please contact Louise Crawford at 718-288-4290 or louise_crawford@yahoo.com
BROOKLYN READING WORKS 2011-21012 SEASON (all events at 8PM)
September 15, 2011: Italian Americans: History, Politics and the Everyday curated by Joanna Clapps Herman
October 6, 2011: Tranformations on the Tongue curated by Pat Smith
November 17, 2011: Make Mine a Double (Why Women Like Us Like to Drink) curated by Gina Barreca
December 8, 2011: A Taste of Salt, a reading with novelist Martha Southgate and others
January 19, 2001: The Truth and the Ghost Writer curated by John Guidry
February 16, 2012: New Plays by Brooklyn Playwrights curated by Rosemary Moore
March 15, 2012: The Year of the Dragon: Voices from the East curated by Sophia Romero
April 19, 2012: An event curated by Marian Fontana
May 10, 2012: Edgy Mother’s Day curated by Louise Crawford and Sophia Romero
Thoughts on the Wall Street Occupation
I have a fantasy that Occupy Wall Street (OWS) will become something big, something special, and something really important.
Why?
Because this country needs an articulate and thoughtful dissident movement to help it find its way again.
Inspired by the Arab Spring of 2011, the movement is leaderless and yet its stance of discontent, non-violence and democratic idealism seems to resonate with many who are frustrated with the economic and political situation in our country.
OWS is for those who believe that our values are skewed. It is for those who believe that jobs, affordable housing, good education and healthcare should be a right not a privilege.
It is for people who are tired of the greed, entitlement, salaries, and bonuses of a small class of people who have more than everyone else.
Some complain that OWS doesn’t have a cohesive platform, a list of demands, or an identifiable leader or political candidate. I think, at least for now, that is one of its strengths. The amorphousness of it allows people like me to attribute to it everything we think would make this country better. If there was a platform, there would be a moment of, ah, I’m not sure I agree with that, or I don’t like that leader, or I can’t align myself with those beliefs.
In its current amorphous state OWS can contain multitudes and that’s a good thing right now.
I love that Zuccotti Park is like a little society (or maybe it’s like an Internet start up firm) with a reception area, a media zone, a medical area, a library, and a food area. Maybe they need a policy and/or branding department where strategists can help devise a cohesive message.
I love that there’s a daily schedule posted on the website with daily meetings and information about marches. For the organizers, social networking is second nature; they were born into it.
I love that the occupiers order pizza from a local pizzeria, and then use the pizza boxes to make sometimes witty signs.
I love that its young people. And elderly. And middle-aged.
For 17 days, the press seemed to be ignoring the “occupation” and treating it like a joke. On Saturday, many people (all ages and colors) joined the march and 700 were arrested on the Brooklyn Bridge and now the press seems to be attentive.
For now, OWS feels like the pulse of the city. It seems to, in some way, address the discontent and fear that’s been hovering just above the surface of life these past few years. Fear about the future, fear for our children’s future, fear for our ability to sustain ourselves in a hostile economic environment.
The people are speaking. And occupying, And dreaming that things can be different and better some time soon.
We’ll see what happens.
Occupy Wall Street: 700 Arrested on Brooklyn Bridge
Photograph on Brooklyn Bridge by Adrian Kinloch (britinbrooklyn.net)
In the spirit of seeing for myself what’s been going on for the last 17 days with Occupy Wall Street, I took the subway into Manhattan to catch Saturday’s march scheduled for 3PM. At Liberty Street and Broadway I joined the marchers, who were chanting: “Banks got balied out, we got sold out.”
It was hard to tell how many people were marching but the west sidewalk of Broadway was packed with people of all ages and colors from Liberty Street up to the Brooklyn Bridge. There was a large police presence on the street side of Broadway keeping the marchers on the sidewalk, making sure they didn’t spill out into the street.
Chanting, “We are the 99%,” some of the marchers waved at the police, “thanks for keeping us safe.” When I accidentally walked into the street, a cop was quick to reprimand me, “Stay on the sidewalk, lady.” That happened more than once in the crosswalks.
The people who were marching near me were peaceful, friendly and excited to be part of this fledgling movement. One woman, a 43-year old unemployed teacher, came down from New Paltz this morning by herself.
“You can’t wait for other people, you have to do what feels right,” she told. me.
Recently she was laid off from her job as a teacher at a Sullivan County BOCES, a job she’d held for twelve years.
“This movement needs a PR campaign,” she told me. “We need a great slogan which sums up what it’s about.”
Despite the lack of a cohesive message, she felt drawn to the protest because of the dire economic situation and the high level of unemployment, she told me.
“I’d rather be working might be a good slogan. I should have made a sign. Maybe I’ll put it on a pizza box,” she told me.
Pizza boxes are an oft used material for signage at these Occupied Wall Street marches. I was unable to estimate how many people were marching but there must have been a few thousand. I was definitely in the middle of the march and there were many blocks of people behind me and above me.
“This is what democracy looks like” chanted the crowd as we crossed Broadway towards the Brooklyn Bridge walkway. There was a bottleneck as the crowd was funneled onto the bridge Some members of the march went right towards the Brooklyn bound car lanes. It was clear that those who went in that direction were preparing to get arrested because they would be blocking traffic. Some Occupy Wall Street organizers warned people not to go in that direction. “If you go there you will be arrested.” At first, the police seemed to be letting people onto the car lanes. But then a high level cop with a megaphone told people not to go there.
The bridge looked crowded with demonstrators at 4:00 p.m. I chose not to get on the bridge because I was worried that I might get trapped there or arrested. I had the feeling that the protesters had permission to use the bridge’s walkway. But I noticed a policeman with plastic handcuffs on his belt loops and that was an ominous sign.
By 6:30PM, I heard on WNYC radio that upwards of 75 people have been arrested on the Brooklyn Bridge and elsewhere. Brooklyn-bound bridge traffic is closed and it’s a terrible traffic situation at the moment.
Despite the outcome, the march had a spirited and peaceful quality. I spoke with Hank H., a 54-year-old man from Connecticut, who came down this morning because he feels betrayed by the Obama administration.
“He sold himself as the candidate of hope and change and then he betrayed us,” he said.
Of the Wall Street occupiers he said, “This group is reasserting the power to use public space in a democratic manner. That’s democratic with a small d.” As he walked away he told me to stay safe.
“Occupying public space is a metaphor for occupying political space,” he said as we parted.
And indeed, that’s precisely what was going on today in lower Manhattan.
It’s 9:24PM and the New York Times reports that 400 people have been arrested on the Brooklyn Bridge car lanes.
At 6:14AM the New York Times reports:
In a tense showdown above the East River, the police arrested more than 700 demonstrators from the Occupy Wall Street protests who took to the roadway as they tried to cross the Brooklyn Bridge on Saturday afternoon.
The police said it was the marchers’ choice that led to the enforcement action.
“Protesters who used the Brooklyn Bridge walkway were not arrested,” Paul J. Browne, the chief spokesman for the New York Police Department, said. “Those who took over the Brooklyn-bound roadway, and impeded vehicle traffic, were arrested.”
But many protesters said they believed the police had tricked them, allowing them onto the bridge, and even escorting them partway across, only to trap them in orange netting after hundreds had entered.
“The cops watched and did nothing, indeed, seemed to guide us onto the roadway,” said Jesse A. Myerson, a media coordinator for Occupy Wall Street who marched but was not arrested.
When Ceilings Fall: Old First Church on Rosh Hashanah
I received this email from Reverend Daniel Meeter of Old First Dutch Reformed Church in Park Slope detailing what happened when parts of the church’s ceiling crashed down just minutes before the start of a Rosh Hashanah service for a local congregation that was being held at the church.
“The people of Congregation Beth Elohim plus a few Christian friends were gathering on Wednesday night for Erev Rosh Hashana at Old First, the service set to begin at 8p.m.
“Why a Chirstian church? For the third year? Because three years ago (just a day before Rosh Hashanah) the plaster from the ceiling of Garfield Temple came crashing down causing the synagogue to close and find another place for their large high holy day services. The congregation was welcomed to hold thier services in the church.
“But at 7:50 p.m., just before the people started to fill the pews, the same thing happened at Old First, some ceiling plaster came crashing down. No one was seated in that spot yet, thank God, so we spent half an hour cleaning up and composing ourselves, and cordoned off the center pews, and started the service.
“Much abuzz, much shaking of heads, “unbelievable,” many loving jokes: “You can do Christmas Eve at the schul,” etc.
“During the service, pieces of loose plaster obviously and ominously were hanging down. Early the next morning, pastor, rabbi and work crews gathered to try to shake the loose plaster down, from up above the ceiling in the cavernous attic of the church. Our custodians, Pedro and Abraham, climbed into the housing above the chandelier, and, blind to the underside of the ceiling beneath them, started banging on beams with poles. Crash, crash, chrash. More plaster came down than we expected, crashing into the chandelier, breaking three bulbs.
“I was up there, grieving and crying for my church, but we had to do it. We came to a stop where we could and strated cleaning up. We flipped the switches on the chandelier, and thank heaven, it lit. But there is a wound in our ceiling, and maybe still more loose pieces, which we can’t be sure of until we get a cherry-picker, which means thousands of dollars.
“So the pew remained cordoned off, the the service started on time, and the Torah was read and the shofar sounded. This year I did not sit among the people as I was running around and calling contractors, and I missed both of Rabbi Andy Bachman’s sermons, and finally the congregation left, and now, God help us, we have to figure out what we will do. Shana Tovah.”
Noam Chomsky on Occupy Wall Street
“Anyone with eyes open knows that the gangsterism of Wall Street — financial institutions generally — has caused severe damage to the people of the United States (and the world). And should also know that it has been doing so increasingly for over 30 years, as their power in the economy has radically increased, and with it their political power. That has set in motion a vicious cycle that has concentrated immense wealth, and with it political power, in a tiny sector of the population, a fraction of 1%, while the rest increasingly become what is sometimes called “a precariat” — seeking to survive in a precarious existence. They also carry out these ugly activities with almost complete impunity — not only too big to fail, but also “too big to jail.”
“The courageous and honorable protests underway in Wall Street should serve to bring this calamity to public attention, and to lead to dedicated efforts to overcome it and set the society on a more healthy course.”
Noam Chomsky
photos by Tom Martinez
The Community Bookstore Celebrates Its 40th
This was first published in Park Slope Patch, where I write a weekly column called, Around the Slope:
While I wasn’t able to attend the Community Bookstore’s 40th Anniversary reading at Old First Reformed Church on Saturday, I did drop by the after-party at the bookstore just in time to hear an employee, who was wearing a morning suit, read aloud from an official proclamation from the Brooklyn Borough President. It declared September 17, 2011 “Community Bookstore Day.”
“Whereas, it is a Brooklyn tradition to honor those organizations and individuals that display exemplary leadership and commitment to the people of their neighborhood and the borough…” the proclamation read.
Ezra Goldstein and Stephanie Valdez, the soon-to-be-official co-owners of the bookstore, were in jovial moods, sipping Brooklyn Brewery beer and eating “three-pie cake” with gloppy white icing and layers of cream and fruit.
Earlier in the day, more than a thousand people came to hear Park Slope literary royalty, Paul Auster, Jonathan Safran Foer, Nicole Krauss, Siri Hustvedt, Mary Morris and Haley Tanner, read poetry and fiction by their favorite authors from the last 40 years as they celebrated Brooklyn’s oldest independent bookstore and one of Park Slope’s most important informal community centers.
“This group of authors was chosen because they are very dedicated to the bookstore. Not only did they read but they had such nice things to say about the store,” Valdez told me at the after-party.
In 1971 when Susan Scioli, who owns the building and lives in an apartment above the shop, opened the Community Bookstore, Park Slope was just beginning its gradual transition from a working and middle-class Irish and Italian neighborhood to the gentrified and expensive place it is today. But in the ensuing 40 years, the store has had its financial ups and downs.
In 2001, Catherine Bohne, a longtime bookstore employee, bought the shop from Scioli. In 2005 the store nearly went out of business, but was mercifully saved, in part, by a group of individuals who each donated $10,000 and became part owners of the shop. But a devoted following among the Park Slope community also enabled the store to survive through the advent of Amazon and a Barnes and Noble just a few blocks away.
Goldstein, a former journalist and member of the Park Slope Civic Council, and Valdez, who used to organize readings and other events for the store, have been running the place for a year now and will officially buy the bookstore from Bohne in the next few weeks.
Standing at a long table with a white tablecloth, flower arrangements and wine and cheeses, I talked to a man who has just moved to Park Slope from Washington Heights, a real newbie.
“I’m so glad to have found this bookstore,” he said holding a stack of fiction he was about to buy. He was with a friend from Manhattan and we talked about why Park Slope is such a community with a capital “C.”
I went into my usual spiel about Park Slope being a college town without the college.
“That’s a good one,” he said.
I went on to offer a variety of theories: Maybe it’s the scale of the neighborhood and the fact that locals walk everywhere and enjoy standing on the street while talking with friends and neighbors. Or maybe it’s because there are many neighborhood meccas that provide people with places to hang out and feel connected with one another.
There’s the Community Bookstore, of course, where it’s always possible to have a conversation about a favorite author, an upcoming book group, or a hot topic pertaining to Park Slope or the world. But there is so much more.
There’s the famous (and infamous) Park Slope Food Coop with its 15,000 members, who are required to work in order to enjoy the bounty of organic food, and love to gripe about the overzealous rules and regulations of the place.
Postcard from the Slope: Purple Doors Wide Open
Sunday morning, the tenth anniversary of 9/11, the purple doors of Old First Dutch Reformed Church were wide open for its memorial service just as they were in the days and weeks after September 11, 2001. And just like 10 years ago, there was an A-frame board on the sidewalk in front of the Carroll Street church with the words: “The church will be open for prayer and meditation until 5 p.m.”
Inside, an unusually large crowd listened to 10-year-old Lector Frank Adams reading from the book of Exodus. Hanging from the walls of the church, with its imposing Neo-Gothic architecture, beautiful stained glass windows and a grand chandelier, were pieces of white newsprint, some readable, some blurry. The prayer sheets were created by visitors in the days and weeks after the 9/11 attacks, when the church invited those who walked through its doors to write down their prayers.
What seemed like a typical Sunday service, with the singing of hymns and readings from Romans and Matthew, suddenly transitioned into a memorial when Reverend Daniel Meeter began his sermon.
“Let me tell you what you did 10 years ago,” Rev. Meeter spoke directly to the crowd of over 200 people. “While paper and debris was raining down on this neighborhood some of you knew right away that you had to open the doors of the church for sanctuary.”
He continued: “People came and sat looking for safety and shelter because you opened the door. You hosted them. You gave them music, candles and hung up sheets of newsprint and put out markers.”
While he spoke, I noticed a small boy a few pews ahead of me playing with a toy fire truck, which somehow seemed appropriate for 343 firefighters died while responding to the World Trade Center attacks, including 12 firemen from Squad 1 on Union Street.
Postcard from the Slope: My Hiatus
In June I quietly decided to take a hiatus from writing this blog. Thankfully, Hugh Crawford (No Words Daily Pix) and Eliot Wagner (Now I’ve Heard Everything) kept the flame burning.
My reasons for taking a break were manifold. In February of 2011 I began training to be a court reporter and my time for blogging was quite limited because I needed to focus on, well, court reporting. During a break from school in July I took a trip to Europe, which also limited my ability to blog.
But there were other reasons, too. After seven years writing for OTBKB I needed a break, a chance to regroup, rethink, and take a step back.
For almost seven years my passion for this blog was unlimited. People often asked: how do you do it, why do you do it, where do you find the time???
My answer was always the same: I love it. Indeed, I was truly passionate about blogging and OTBKB. It didn’t feel like work, it felt like joy. That’s why I started the Brooklyn Blogfest (to spread the blogging gospel). That’s why I was able to post at least once a day and many days much, much more (I couldn’t stop, I had so much to tell you all).
I also loved my beat and the wide scope of this blog. Yes, there was my hyper-local focus on Brooklyn and beyond, including its civics and urban life, art and culture, food, drink, shopping, parenting and street life. But I was able to bring so much of myself and my other interests to it, too.
This blog felt like an extension of me and it could contain whatever interested me, which I hoped would be of interest to you.
Last Spring, for the first time in a very long time, I just couldn’t find the time, the will, or the interest to blog. Because I was in school, OTBKB wasn’t the primary thing I was doing; I felt I had to step away to make room for the new. Stepping away was actually easier than I imagined it would be. I was spending more and more time in Manhattan and my non-stop attention to Brooklyn was waning.
But I also felt a great absence. I hardly knew myself when I wasn’t blogging. OTBKB was where I reckoned with the things that mattered to me, it’s where I set down my thoughts and feelings. Like a notebook, it was where I responded to the world around me.
Who was I without OTBKB? Some days I didn’t know.
And then on September 10, 2011, I felt moved to blog about the 10th anniversary. I’ve written many times on OTBKB about 9/11 anniversaries so it felt right that I should comment on this meaningful day.
Coming back to the blog was like finding an old friend. It felt familiar, yet different. There was much to say and yest, also a desire to find a new ways to connect. I didn’t want to get back into old habits; I wanted to find a new way of doing things.
The first post I ever posted was on September 18, 2004 almost exactly seven years ago. Soon after I started calling my posts, Postcard from the Slope.
I’m liking that idea that I will, once again, write these little postcards about what I’m thinking about. It feels right, it sounds good.
I’ll take it from there and see what happens. Thanks for listening.
An Open Letter from Rabbi Ellen Lippmann
Here is an open letter from Rabbi Ellen Lippmann of Kolot Chayeinu/Voices of Our Lives inviting the public to a special discussion the synagogue is sponsoring.
“On Thursday, September 15, at 7:30 pm, Kolot Chayeinu/Voices of Our Lives ( 1012 8th Avenue in Park Slope) is hosting an open Jewish conversation about cultural boycott of Israel. This is a controversial subject about which many people hold passionate opinions for, against and everything in between. Why have I and Kolot Chayeinu decided to host such an event?
“The simple answer is that we believe strongly that our Jewish community should be a place of open conversation about many subjects, including one that like this arouse deep passions. While the subject of boycott of Israel as a strategy seeking greater justice and peace there has been discussed widely in private individual and organizational settings, there have been few Jewish spaces willing to open doors to this conversation. We thought it was time for Kolot Chayeinu to open those doors.
“In our community, too, the discussion of boycott of any kind has been confined to the living rooms that housed a two-year Israel-Palestine reading group. But when asked last year about hosting a larger event on the subject, opinion in the community was split. What was not split, though, was the desire on the part of many Kolot members to have our congregation be a place of open discussion, regardless of any member’s opinion on the subject at hand. Therefore, when we were asked this year to host, we agreed — with the understanding that the event must be a truly open conversation, allowing strong voices pro and con. We insisted that members of our congregation be speakers on the panel along with those from other organizations. We insisted that because the subject was cultural boycott specifically, some speakers be artists; on the final panel, one is a filmmaker, one a musician. All panelists have thought long and hard about the subject of cultural boycott. Some stand firmly against it, some just as firmly for it. Others are still engaged in internal debate even as they share that debate with us.
“Ultimately, what is important in this conversation is that it is an open conversation for Jews, who rarely have this chance in a Jewish setting. This is not an evening of advocacy, people are not speaking to convince anyone to take a position. Rather, while the positions expressed are certain to be strongly stated, the evening is for talking and especially listening. After all, God gave us 2 ears and only one mouth! And we must ALL listen with respect to each other no matter our personal position or how violently we may agree or disagree with what is said. This is an evening for openness, honesty, careful listening, and deep thought.
“The conversation we are hosting on September 15 is unrelated to any others that are going on in the neighborhood or in the community. It is OUR conversation. The Kolot Executive Board would not have voted to host anything else, nor would I. I look forward to seeing you Thursday evening.”
Sept 15: Italian America: History, Politics and the Everyday
RE-THINKING ITALIAN AMERICA AT BROOKLYN READING WORKS ON SEPTEMBER 15, 2011.
Brooklyn Reading Works at The Old Stone House presents Italians in America: History, Politics and the Everyday. On September 15th at 8PM curator Joanna Clapps Herman brings together a group of Italian American scholars and authors who examine the details of history as it was created, lived and spoken, but until very recently hidden from view of the larger academic and literary world in America.
As an American ethnic tribe, Italian-Americans came later than some other ethnic groups to studying and writing about the details of custom, culture, folkways and history of their people.
In the last 25 years however the flood gates have opened and there is now a rich body of written material examining all aspects of cultural history and daily ways of life. Each of the authors at this reading brings to light a particular aspect here-to-fore not examined piece of the Italian American way of life: history, language, vernacular culture and archaic customs preserved.
Joseph Sciorra is the Associate Director for Academic and Cultural Programs at the John D. Calandra Italian American Institute, Queens College (City University of New York). As a folklorist, he has published on religious practices, cultural landscapes, and popular music.
Nancy C. Carnevale is Associate Professor of History at Montclair State University and author of A New Language, A New World: Italian Immigrants in the United States, 1890-1945 (University of Illinois Press, 2009), winner of a 2010 American Book Award.
Jennifer Guglielmo specializes in the history of immigration, race, women, and labor in the United States, and is an Associate Professor of History at Smith College. Her recent book Living the Revolution: Italian Women’s Resistance and Radicalism in New York City, 1880-1945 (UNC Press, 2010) documents Italian immigrant women’s commitment to revolutionary and transnational social movements, and explores how this activism diminished as they became white working-class Americans.
Joanna Clapps Herman has published poetry, fiction, memoirs and essays. Her latest publication is her memoir, The Anarchist Bastard: Growing Up Italian In America (SUNY Albany Press, March 2011) She is co-editor of Wild Dreams: The Best of Italian Americana (Fordham University Press, 2008), as well as co-editor of Our Roots Are Deep With Passion (Other Press, 2007).
When: September, 15, 2011 at 8PM
Where: The Old Stone House in Park Slope on 3rd Street between 5th and 4th Avenues. Note: due to construction in park enter from west side of the house.
What else: $5 suggested donation includes wine and refreshments. Books for sale.
For more information about the authors and the event please contact Louise Crawford at 718-288-4290 or louise_crawford@yahoo.com
BROOKLYN READING WORKS 2011-21012 SEASON:
September 15, 2011: Italian Americans: History, Politics and the Everyday curated by Joanna Clapps Herman
October 6, 2011: Tranformations on the Tongue curated by Pat Smith
November 17, 2011: Make Mine a Double (Why Women Like Us Like to Drink) curated by Gina Barreca
December 8, 2011: A Taste of Salt, a reading with novelist Martha Southgate and others.
January 12, 2001: The Truth and the Ghost Writer curated by John Guidry
March 15, 2012: The Year of the Dragon: Voices from the East curated by Sophia Romero
May 10: Edgy Mother’s Day curated by Louise Crawford and Sophia Romer
Postcard from the Slope: Begin to Begin
First published on September 12, 2005.
In the new normal, September 11th is the new Labor Day. By that I mean that the autumn season doesn’t officially begin until we have mourned our losses from 9/11.
Falling on a Sunday, this year’s anniversary did feel like a national day of remembrance. Even though it looked like a typical fall Sunday and people did typical Sunday things – it wasn’t really a typical day at all. At Ground Zero, at houses of worship, homes, firehouses, cemeteries, gardens, and on streets throughout the city, people commemorated the loss of the nearly 3000 people who died on September 11. Bells tolled at the exact times the planes hit, as well as the times the south and north towers fell.
This year, I didn’t take part in any 9/11 memorial activities. In the past I have gone to the Brooklyn Botanic Garden to meditate on the grass or to Old First Church to sit and listen to the church bells ring. Last year I attended a dinner at Al Di La given by a friend whose husband died on that day. She wanted to thank all her friends for their support and love.
Yesterday, I was aware of it being September 11th from the moment I woke up. Listening to the names being read at Ground Zero was a stark reminder. And this year the siblings read the names, which brought its own stirring poignancy.
I don’t think the beginning of September will ever mean anything other than 9/11 and the dispair we felt on that day. And September 12th will always bring relief because on that day in 2001 we slowly began to put back the pieces. We also truly connected to one another and felt a real sense of solidarity. That is also the legacy of 9/11, Through our tears, our panic, and our bewilderment, we began the protracted healing process that continues to this day.
9/11 will always be the day we took the hit. But on the day after, we begin to begin again and celebrate the goodness that persists despite the evil we have seen.
Vertical Columns of Light
The Names
First published on September 11, 2005:
Like that day four years ago, I woke up this morning and went directly to the kitchen and switched on the radio.
The Names. The siblings of those who perished are reading the names. They are reading the names and saying so much more.
A woman just read the name of her twin sister. Her twin. As a twin, this makes me cry. The voices are beautiful. Some read clearly with no obvious grief in their voices. Others can barely get the names out. Slowly, haltingly, with emotion in their voices, many break down when they get to the their siblings name. Some mispronounce a name. They apologize or say “Excuse me” and I cringe for the family of that person – listening in the stands at Ground Zero or at home watching the TV.
Each reader ends with the name of his/or her sibling. Some add words like: “See you, bro.” “We can see your smile and hear your laughter.” “I would give up tomorrow for one more yesterday with you.” “We love you and we miss you. ” “Shake it easy, Sal.” “Your spirit is in me each and every day.” I know you always look over me.” “We will see you in heaven.” “We know you are watching over us.” “We miss you and your contagious chuckle.” “My son kisses your picture every day.” “I see your face every day in the mirror.” We cannot wait to be with you again.”
I know from my work with the FDNY that the siblings were deeply grateful to be asked to read the names of their brothers and sisters. Many feel that their grief went unacknowledged. Few recognized the unrelenting grief that a sibling feels. One sibling told me: “I still have pain everyday. People look at me and say, ‘Still?’” I just heard this woman read her brother’s name. And she added: “This world was never meant for one as beautiful as you.”
It is 9:45 and they are at the end of the D’s: Duarte. Duda. Duffy. Dukas. Because of my work with the FDNY, I recognize many names and I cherish the names I have typed out on my keyboard, the names of those whose family members I have talked to on the phone, the names of those whose life stories I have researched and written.
I am waiting for the names of those I know who died that day, whose wives I see at PS 321, at Starbucks, at the nail salon, and on the streets of Seventh Avenue. I observe them, monitor their moods, their haircuts, watch their children grow, wonder how they are doing, and know that I can barely fathom what they have been through
Last year on the night of September 11th, I saw the wife of a man who died that day, creating a beautiful mosaic outside of her brownstone. It was midnight and the Tribute of Lights was visible in the sky above her.
The F’s are being read now. Fredo, Flannery, Fagin…I am waiting to hear David Fontana’s name…I just heard it. It went by so quickly. Too quickly. I don’t want to get beyond the F’s. I want to hear his name again.
The third moment of silence begins to mark when the south tower fell. A bell rings three times. On the radio, the sound of wind, the noisy sound of silence: “Hello Darkness my old friend, I come to talk with you again…”
And then back to the simple incantation of the names. So powerful, so beautiful, so moving. And the heartfelt words added by the siblings. Simple sentiments of grief.
There are so many ways to say the same thing: I miss you. I love you. Nothing is the same without you.
As one brother just said, “Thanks for the memory, kiddo.”
Eulogy
This is an excerpt from Marian Fontana’s eulogy for her husband Lt. Dave Fontana of the FDNY, who died on 9/11.
“Aidan, love is the only thing that lasts forever, and even though Daddy’s gone, I hope you will remember how much your daddy loved you and keep that in your heart for the rest of your life. I have tried hard to find the good to come out of losing the love of my life. This summer, Dave insisted on buying a hat that he saw his friend, Jerry, at the firehouse wearing. It read “Life is good” and for Dave it truly was, especially in his last months.
“Dave strove to live his life fully, to love his family and friends, to feel his feelings and be an honest and good man. I think he accomplished that. I hope everyone here will use Dave’s life as an example. I know I will. So tell the people around you that you love them, mend grudges, don’t stay angry with people, and be kind. Dave did these things. His heart was as large as his frame and I feel privileged to have called myself Dave’s wife.
“An excerpt from Marian Fontana’s eulogy for Dave Fontana spoken at his funeral on October 25, 2001.
Aidan, love is the only thing that lasts forever, and even thoughDaddy’s gone, I hope you will remember how much your daddy loved youand keep that in your heart for the rest of your life.
“I have tried hard to find the good to come out of losing the love of mylife. This summer, Dave insisted on buying a hat that he saw his friend Jerry at the firehouse wearing. It read “Life is good” and for Dave truly was, especially in his last months.
“Dave strove to live his life fully, to love his family and friends, to feel his feelings, and to be an honest and good man. I think he accomplished that. I hope everyone here will use Dave’s life as an example. I know I will. So tell the people around you that you love them, mend grudges, don’t stay angry with people, and be kind. Dave did these things. His heart was as large as his frame and I feel privileged to have called myself Dave’s wife.”
Last Picture of WTC by Bob Guskind
The late Bob Guskind of the late, great Gowanus Lounge, made this beautiful collage with the last photo he took of the WTC on August 24th, 2001, masking tape, and his typewritten words.
Remembering
Blighted Air
Your health
went to hell
after the terrorists
blasted our city
White ash spat
on your September Eleventh Street
sticking to sad shoes
The unmentionable odor of death
suffocated your lungs
delivering you
to the empty hospital
where the missing
were supposed to be
Inside the oxygen tent
W.H. Auden’s poem
lay open on your bed
We must love one another or die
seven words of resuscitation
for short, quivering breath
Only poetry can
restore
–Louise Crawford (with italicized lines from W.H. Auden)
9/11: I Can’t Believe It’s Been Ten Years
The 10th anniversary of 9/11 is just a day away. A day, which many have been anticipating with anxiety and dread because of the onslaught of commemoration—media and otherwise. It is a day which will be filled with many still raw memories.
“I can’t believe it’s been ten years” is probably the most common response to the impending anniversary. “In some ways it feels like it just happened but in many ways it just feels like it was a bad dream so far in the past,” write Pat Tambour, a NYC performer now living in Nashville. “Witnessing the whole event outside my apartment window has made it difficult in terms of not dwelling on it too much.”
Many watched the towers fall from the rooftops. Dust, ash and debris from the fallen buildings floated over the neighborhood. People lined up to give blood at Methodist Hospital when they still thought there would be wounded survivors from the towers.
The local public schools stayed open until the early evening refusing to close until every child had been picked up by parents or guardians, who were stranded in Manhattan.
Some parents arrived with thick white ash on their shoes. Some parents didn’t arrive at all.
By evening there was a growing list of missing Park Slopers including 11 firefighters from Squad 1, but there was still hope that they would surface. In the days that followed those hopes were dashed.
In my apartment building on Third Street, many of us gathered in a neighbor’s first floor apartment to watch television while our young children played. We were desperate to follow the news of the day but also mindful that the images were disturbing and confusing to our children.
During the afternoon, a woman on my block set up a folding table on the sidewalk covered with yellow pads and pens. “It’s for people who want to write down what they are feeling,” she told me.
I spent that evening and many days after in the apartment of a friend who’s husband, a Squad 1 firefighter, was missing. We called hospitals in New Jersey hoping that he had somehow ended up there. At midnight, two firefighters, their skin bright red, reeking of smoke and covered in ash and debris, arrived to assure my friend that there was still hope. “There are voids, where the guys might be,” they told us.
In the days and weeks that followed, the neighborhood came together to mourn the dead and support the living.
The Community Bookstore became a community center, an information hub and a drop-off point for supplies needed at Ground Zero. The store’s front window was covered with supply lists, poems, hand-written notes and newspaper articles, including condolences and expressions of empathy people from all over the world. Indeed, for the first few weeks, before 9/11 was used as a reason to go to war, it felt like the whole world was in solidarity.
Across the street from the bookstore, Old First Dutch Reformed Church was kept open for prayer and reflection. One night that first week, there was packed service for the community where everyone rose to sing, “God Bless America.”
On the Friday after that terrible Tuesday there was huge candlelight vigil on Seventh Avenue, which ended in front of Squad 1 on Union Street, where locals paid their respects to first responders who had given their lives and those who had survived. The guys at Squad 1 were our heroes and every time we saw a fire truck we waved in gratitude, a local custom that went on for at least a year if not more.
When word got out a few weeks later that the Fire Commissioner was planning, in a budget saving measure, to close Squad 1, there was a huge protest in front of the firehouse. Before the demonstration was over, his decision was reversed to the relief and jubilation of the crowd.
Eventually, Park Slope got back to a new normal. The kids returned to school and the adults got on with their lives. The first few anniversaries were very fraught and very sad. More recently it has felt like just another day. Sort of. Those young children like my daughter who barely knew what they were seeing on the television back then are in high school now. The middle schoolers, who watched the towers fall from the windows of MS 51 are now in college.
For them, 9/11 must feel like a long time ago. For their parents, that’s not the case. Indeed, we are still experiencing the grief and loss. Yes, we are back to normal but the reminder of it is painful in a very profound way as it is a dark, traumatic memory. When I think about the anniversary I sort of wince. My instinct is to hide under the covers.
Others like Michele Madigan Sommerville, a poet and writer, believe that rituals are needed. “I think people are going to need ritual and poetry and song and the words of the most directly affected. I also think there’s a whole generation of children who were not old enough to be aware a decade ago—who will be very aware and very much in need of support.”
Facing the 9/11 Anniversary with Music and Prayer
Unbelievably, the tenth anniversary of the September 11, 2001 attacks is tomorrow. WNYC radio has been on all morning with its special ”Living 9/11″ coverage. The voices of family members who lost loved ones, survivors and witnesses is forcing me to re-live the day. Yet, I can’t turn it off.
In my quest to understand how people are feeling about the anniversary, I contacted clergy in the Park Slope area to see how they are approaching the anniversary of an event that changed New York City and the nation, and surely changed New Yorkers.
“It strikes me that we’re still in a case of low-level shock, and we still haven’t faced all the meaning of what we experienced,” Reverend Daniel Meeter of Old First Dutch Reformed Church wrote via E-mail.
Since the anniversary falls on a Sunday, the church will likely be filled with parishioners who, like Rev. Meeter, are still grappling with the enormity of that sunny, yet terrible September day.
“We are having special prayers and testimonies in our morning services,” he wrote. “Then we’re opening the sanctuary for prayer and meditation and hanging up the prayer sheets which people wrote the prayers on ten years ago.”
Indeed, in the days and weeks after 9/11, Old First opened its doors to the general public for prayer vigils and silent meditation. I remember those prayer sheets. They were white bed sheets, which men, women and children were invited to write or draw on. Their words and pictures were displayed in the church’s vestibule for months, a hanging vigil for all of those who were lost in the attacks.
On the first anniversary of 9/11, I remember spending my morning in the church listening to a program of classical music performed by local musicians.
Tomorrow afternoon at 5 p.m., Rev. Meeter will join Rabbi Andy Bachman of Congregation Beth Elohim (CBE) at his synagogue, on Eighth Avenue at Garfield Place, for an interfaith service open to the entire community. Brooklyn Conservatory’s Community Orchestra and Chorale, the CBE Singers and the synagogue’s cantor, Joshua Breitzer will be on the program. At the service, Rabbi Bachman will deliver a sermon and the memorial will conclude with a group singing of “America the Beautiful.”
Rabbi Ellen Lippmann of Kolot Chayeinu will organize a different commemoration for the tenth anniversary of 9/11. The Eighth Annual Children of Abraham Peace Walk will begin at 2 p.m. on September 11. This walk is for Jews, Christians, Muslims and “all people who want to remember those who died on 9/11 and commemorate the spirit of friendship that supported so many thereafter” will commence at a the Dawood Mosque in Brooklyn Heights (143 State Street), cross the Brooklyn Bridge and conclude at Charlotte’s Place, a community center in lower Manhattan.
Perhaps it’s appropriate that Rabbi Lippmann’s most vivid recollection of Park Slope in the days after 9/11 was a candlelight vigil down Seventh Avenue.
“It was a Friday evening a few days after 9/11, and we were in Sabbath services,” she said. “We left, bringing candles, and joined what turned out to be a sea of people with candles all along Seventh Avenue as far as the eye could see, heading for the fire house on Union Street, I think, offering our presence in comfort for their many losses. What sorrow! What impact! What a sight!”
Also on September 11, the Brooklyn Conservatory of Music, on Seventh Avenue between Lincoln and St. Johns places, will hold a day-long 9/11 commemoration and the Brooklyn Art Song Societywill perform at noon. At 2 p.m., Ron Jackson will play guitar and recite poetry at the Community Bookstore. At 3 p.m., BaroQue Across the River and Dancewave will bring music and dance to the Conservatory.
In anticipation of the anniversary, I asked Rabbi Bachman what he best remembers about the aftermath of the tragedy ten years ago.
“As I’ve reflected on these last ten years,” Rabbi Bachman said. “I’ve been most impressed with stories of incredibly generous humanity that was expressed that day and in the following weeks and months—as if a hardened city was traumatized into softening its exterior, if only temporarily.”
Sylvia Harris, RIP
Sylvia Harris, a resident of Prospect Heights and a friend to many in Park Slope, died suddenly last week. She leaves behind a devoted husband and daughter. She was the founder and director of Citizen RD (formerly Sylvia Harris LLC), a communications and design firm that creates design and information programs with direct input from the general public.
In her work she created “strategic plans for user-friendly publications, signage, and media” displayed in public venues, universities, colleges and some of the country’s largest institutions or distributed by public services. It was her aim to make design that was “simple, seamless, and accessible.”
At the website there is a fascinating and inspiring video about Sylvia and her work. There are also tributes from friends and colleagues.
Park Slope and those who knew Sylvia have lost someone truly special and inspiring. She was a design visionary and a warm, lovely presence who will be missed by many. As one friend wrote:
The news of Sylvia’s death is devastating. She was one of the most vibrant people I’ve ever met. My condolences to family and friends whose loss of her will reverberate for as long as you live. I love this picture of her—it brings to mind her laugh, which was easy, hearty, and infectious.
There will be a memorial for Sylvia in the fall. You can read more about Sylvia at the Richmond Times Dispatch.
Brad Lander’s Shiva Visit to Leiby Kletsky’s Family
Earlier this week City Councilmember Brad Lander visited the family of Leiby Kletsky, the 8-year-old Borough Park boy who was brutally murdered last week. He wrote about his experience with the family and it is on his website today. I was in Europe during this terrible tragedy and I knew nothing about it until I got back to New York on Sunday night. I was moved by Lander’s reflections on his visit with the family and am reprinting it here for those who haven’t had a chance to read it.
No words can ease or describe the grief, or heal the wounds, but — like so many people I’ve talked to — I’ve been thinking about it constantly for the past week, and wanted at least to write down some of what I’ve been feeling.
We were all heartbroken by the tragedy — especially those with close ties to the Borough Park and Kensington communities, or the Orthodox Jewish community, or those of us with young kids … but really all of us, beyond Brooklyn, beyond New York, beyond the Jewish community, beyond parents. The killing reminded us that despite everything we do to keep our kids and each other safe, there are spaces of senseless terror, of incomprehensible evil. That the things that are absolutely most dear and precious to us can be taken away in a heartbeat, for no reason at all.
At the shiva, after talking to his parents, I met one of Leiby’s neighbors, who talked to me about how Leiby would play ball with the little kids in his building, about how rare it is for an 8-year-old to play with 4-year-olds, about how he had a heart of gold, living up to his name (Leiby is from the Hebrew lev, for heart).
While neither words nor actions feel meaningful in the face of the tragedy, the response of the Orthodox Jewish community has been remarkable. I’ve been deeply impressed over the past two years with the extraordinary voluntary (chesed) organizations and efforts in the community, for so many causes — taking care of sick families, helping kids go to summer camp, providing social and health and mental health services, and so many others. The past week showed that like no other.
Townhouse Art Gallery in Slope’s Most Intriguing Building
It is a rare Park Sloper who doesn’t have a story or a curiosity about the dilapidated building on the corner of Seventh Avenue and 2nd Street. Dubbed “the house that whimsy built” by the New York Times a few years ago (and later called The House of Whimsy by OTBKB), it is still owned by a woman named Dorothy Nash, who may or may not live in the building with her daughters.
In the Times’ article, Alison Statement wrote: “The structure radiates a mysterious, haunted quality that encourages local residents to wonder why the place has fallen into such disrepair and what, if anything, is to come of the valuable property.”
Over the years the storefront has been a boutique called the Baby Doll and the Landmark, a pub/performance space where you could find piles of old toys and doll heads and various local performers.
One of Dorothy’s daughters, Esther Nash, is currently running Townhouse Gallery (510 Second Street between 7th and 8th avenues) with her mother in a space that has more than a bit of a history.
Efrain Gonzolez met with Esther and her mom and took these pictures. Park Slope writer Brook Dramer shares some history about that building:
“In the 1980s it was The Iron Horse Tavern, which was quickly replaced by the Landmark Tavern. For a while it was the Babydoll Boutique (I don’t know if that venture ever got of the ground, but the sandwich board for that venture was out on the sidewalk for a while).
“The Landmark Tavern was a place where people somehow thought it was oh-so-Boho to sit in an unheated building, listening to Sailorman Jack sing as they banged toys in time to the music and drank cheap beer that was served by one of Dorothy’s beautiful daughters (I think she was about 8 years old) while the younger daughter slept on a couch next to a heater near the stage).
“The building drew some attention few years ago when a glass window felt out and sliced the cover of a parked convertible in half (fortunately, no one was sitting in the car).
“Years ago, Dorothy told people that she dreamed of running and art gallery. I wish her well–and I hope this incarnation of 502 Seventh Avenue generates enough income to finally fix up that building.”
Anthony Weiner is a Park Slope Boy
I briefly met Congressman Anthony Weiner a few years back at the Park Slope Pride Parade on Seventh Avenue. Born and bred in Park Slope, he’s a very personable guy and we got into a conversation about all the real delicatessens that used to be in the neighborhood. We were standing at the corner of Lincoln Place and I believe he was pointing at various small storefronts between Lincoln and St. John’s Place.
I don’t remember the details but he seemed effusive about his childhood around here (I’m pretty sure I wrote about our entirely wholesome encounter but I can’t seem to find it in the OTBKB archives).
Ever since then I’ve followed his political career sporadically and was pretty sure he’d be running for Mayor of New York City in 2013.
Well, I don’t think that’s going to happen. Not now anyway.
No one needs me to chime in about Weinergate or to bash the guy whose already been almost universally bashed. Nor do I want to be an apologist for my Park Slope landsman, but I do want to say something about yesterday’s speech in which he came clean about the underwear photos and his sexting history. IMO that was one heck of a apology: profuse, heartfelt, sad, specific, clear.
I would like to take this time to clear up some of the questions that have been raised over the past ten days or so. I take full responsibility for my actions. At the outset, I would like to make it clear that I have made terrible mistakes.
I have hurt the people I care about the most and I am deeply sorry. I have not been honest with myself, my family, my constituents, my friend and supporters and the media.
Weiner, who doesn’t have a lot of friends in Washington, asserted that he made “a regrettable mistake” when he lied that he’d been hacked and decided to stick to that story. Ya. But politicians always lie. At least at first. It must be in some politician’s handbook somewhere. Deny, deny, deny until you can’t deny anymore and then come clean.
You have to think that Weiner was engaging in some Spitzer style self-sabotage. I mean, you’re potentially running for Mayor while sexting with strangers? Nothing stays private on the Internet and he was playing with fire. What was this guy thinking?
What is it with these politicians (see Spitzer, Schwarzenegger, Cohen, Clinton, etc. etc.)? Do they get so deluded by all the glad-handing (and power) that they forget that all the stupid, self-destructive things they do will come back to bite them in the ass?
Is there a self-annihilating force in politicians that’s almost as strong as their ambition to be powerful and famous?
By the end of Weiner’s speech he was in tears and you could see that he knew he’d probably ruined his career and disappointed everyone in his life. I know I was relieved that his wife wasn’t there standing by her man. It remains to be seen whether their marriage will survive this episode but she has one of the best advisers in the world on the subject (she works for Secretary of State Hillary Rodham Clinton).
It remains to be seen what if anything of his career can be salvaged. Clearly, the guy needs to look deeply at himself and figure out his conflicting impulses. Still I was impressed with him the night I met him at the Pride Parade and as his career implodes I’m sorry for the potential that I saw that night that seems to have disappeared in a tweet of bad choices and an all-too-human lack of good judgement.
S’Crapbook by Jennifer Hayden: Edgy Vibes
