Film at Lincoln Center recently held the 63rd edition of the New York Film Festival (NYFF63). The festival’s identity revolves around its Main Slate, which this year featured a curated selection of 34 feature films.
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Photographer Whitney Browne describes her book Candy Store as an homage to the disappearing New York City owner-operated storefront, but her artful and idiosyncratic little volume is so much weirder and more wonderful than that.
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A few weeks ago, I graduated from physical therapy after six months of treatment for sciatica. Now, except for getting out of bed in the morning, standing up quickly from a chair, or stepping down from the curb, which often give me a quick sharp pain in my spine, I am fine.
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Walking south in my Chelsea neighborhood along Seventh Avenue South, I swiftly passed the new Northwell Hospital without taking much notice on my way to the oldest jazz club in NYC, the Village Vanguard.
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I think what’s key to freedom is the belief—or more accurately, the illusion—of personal agency. I’ve often joked about what a great boon it would be to my mental health and happiness if I could start every day by losing—and then finding—a piece of my costume jewelry. Distressing as it is to lose something, finding it brings a sense of confidence, well-being, and an “all’s right with the world” conviction completely out of proportion to the loss.
Read MoreParticipating recently in the Village Trip Festival, and attending several of its literary-themed tours, proved enlightening and inspired some rumination…American literary history has many contributors.
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I live in both Chicago and New York City. The windows of my homes offer either a neck-straining glimpse of Wrigley Field or a frosted overview of Bleecker’s Magnolia Bakery. Though each city provides similar perspectives of an ever-shaking reality, Chicago has become the targeted Ground Zero for the obscenity that is the 47th president.
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In agreeing to hear an appeal from the D.C. Circuit Court of Appeals last year in the case of Trump v. United States, the Supreme Court opened a door to a constitutional labyrinth.
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One early morning, I passed a man walking his dog on Christopher Street, picking up trash on the sidewalk and throwing it in the trash bins. It seemed they were street cleaning together. I thanked him for doing this for our community and he said, “Why not take care of where we live?” I was touched and thought our community should know more about Elliott and Grover. Here’s what he had to say. —Joy Pape
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The Community Board 2 Landmarks Committee reviewed a proposal for the adaptive reuse and residential conversion of 43-49 Bleecker Street, near the corner of Lafayette Street, a six-story masonry building in NoHo. The project involves substantial exterior modifications to the Classical Revival building, which was originally constructed in 1896 by architect Ralph S. Townsend for owner Harry Chaffee.
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The Cornelia Street Café lost its battle with New York City gentrification disease and closed its doors on January 1, 2019. Michael Jacobsohn has expertly dealt with the crisis by doing a documentary, The Cornelia Street Café in Exile. The film is a requiem about the many artists who performed on the tiny stage with red curtains. By sticking close to the songs and words spoken by those artists and Robin Hirsch, one of the three owners, Jacobsohn creates the world that once existed for 41 years at the Café located near Bleeker Street.
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RedFarm has Chinese food. I think the name is probably from the Chinese flag which is red and their food is super fresh, like it just came from a farm. But RedFarm is not like a normal Chinese restaurant in Chinatown—it is kind of its own thing.
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It was October 1995 and Michael Stewart and his partner, Horton Foote Jr., wanted to open a neighborhood restaurant and bar somewhere in Manhattan. They looked at storefronts in Gramercy Park, Hell’s Kitchen and the Theater District but saw nothing that clicked. They were looking for a “turnkey” situation, a functioning eatery which didn’t require costly rebuilding.
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Recently, there were dueling star avian attractions around town: a white-eye-ringed, though otherwise bland, Connecticut Warbler in Trinity Church Cemetery at Wall Street, and a flashy, white-spectacled, Yellow-breasted Chat at the, of all places, busy block-through Verizon Plaza near Sixth Avenue off of 42nd Street.
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If you walk around the cobblestone streets of the West Village on a Saturday or Sunday morning at around 9 a.m., you will find a never-ending line wrapping around the corner of Hudson and Christopher streets. Chattering locals anxiously wait for their steaming cup of drip coffee with cream, blueberry muffin, breakfast burrito, and most importantly, their morning chat with Sam.
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