Division Street — © Brian Rose
Chinatown, Manhattan Bridge, One World Trade Center in the background.
ArtUp on ABC News, Channel 7
From last week:
Nice to see some publicity for FAB’s ArtUp program, which involves using construction scaffolds, containers, and other kinds of spaces and surfaces for public art. My WTC mural on the sidewalk shed on East 4th Street between the Bowery and Second Avenue is shown twice in the video, although I’m not mentioned by name. It will be up until January 27, so you still have a couple of weeks to see it.
Thoughts over breakfast this morning–cognitive dissonance department.
Mario Batali, celebrated chef and restaurateur at a Time person of the year event:
“The way the bankers have toppled the way that money is distributed, and taken most of it into their own hands,” Mr. Batali said, “is as good as Stalin or Hitler, the evil guys” whom Time named Man of the Year long ago, Stalin in 1942, Hitler in 1938.
The internet lit up with indignation from Wall Street: “Cancel all reservations at Batali’s eateries, including Babbo and Del Posto.” Yet another wrote, “Done with Batali restaurants.”
Meanwhile at Occupy Wall Street David Crosby and Graham Nash performed a five song set at Zuccotti Park. From a mostly snarky NYT article:
When the concert ended, to protracted cheers and vigorous finger-waggling, an oft-used signal of appreciation inside the park, Ms. Mandaglio spoke of the thrill of seeing a favorite group from a bygone era. She was asked what song of theirs she liked best. “The one they were playing before,” she said, taking a long drag on a cigarette as she dangled the sunflower between her fingers.
But she was not the best person to ask, Ms. Mandaglio added. She was really more of a Bob Dylan fan.
And at Penn State University in response to the firing of famed football coach Joe Paterno and the forced resignation of the university president, students rioted overnight in downtown State College, Pennsylvania. Never mind that the ousters were the result of a grave mishandling of child sexual abuse.
Some blew vuvuzelas, others air horns. One young man sounded reveille on a trumpet. Four girls in heels danced on the roof of a parked sport utility vehicle and dented it when they fell after a group of men shook the vehicle. A few, like Justin Muir, 20, a junior studying hotel and restaurant management, threw rolls of toilet paper into the trees.
Time and Space is now largely done–I am still tweaking the images–and we are working on the last details of the layout. The book is based on the Blurb prototype that is still available, but with a more refined design and a tighter edit of the photographs. The new Time and Space will be larger (about 9×12 inches) and and will sell for a lower price. There will be a limited edition slipcover version of the book with an original print inside, which will be really beautiful and well worth collecting.
This is the final week of my Kickstarter campaign, and I am just over 50% of the way to my goal. This is your last chance to participate in this project by making a donation–at whatever level you are comfortable with. A donation of $50 gets you a copy of the book as soon as it is available, and $250 gets you the limited edition book. I have received several donations of $10, which makes me very happy. Some people have very tight budgets, but enjoy going on Kickstarter and sprinkling money around to projects they find worth supporting. I have donated to another project myself and plan to do more.
Please join in–your help is appreciated and needed. Thanks!
I’ve put a lot more work into WTC, adding four new images and replacing a digital image with one from 4×5 film. One image is out. I’ve fine tuned the text and added a conclusion that goes opposite a 1978 image of the Twin Towers reflected in a pool of water. I think the book now has a much stronger last section.
Here is the concluding text:
In bringing this narrative to a close I find myself equipped only with the most recent and tentative images, not yet resonant with the past. I circle ground zero with my camera dodging the drift of tourists who have made it a place of pilgrimage.
It seems sometimes, disconcertingly, that I am in the business of photographing things that precipitously cease to exist—the Berlin Wall, the Twin Towers.
New York moves forward, new towers rise, and a new generation claims the old neighborhoods. The rapidity of change rattles even the newcomers who feel history slipping through their fingers as they fumble for their keys.
Here is New York. E.B. White wrote about the city in another time of great anxiety: The sublest change in New York is something people don’t speak much about but that is in everyone’s mind. The city, for the first time in its long history, is destructible. We who live here know that all too well.
Let us then look back at what is gone–reflected towers in a pool of water. Philippe Petit on a slender wire. The names. The faces. Rising steel. The beginning of what comes after.
Philadelphia Inquirer article. Two of the photos in the slide show are mine. The first one, of the new snack bar is actually a progress photo taken by a staff person of Farewell Mills Gatsch, the restoration architects.
Inga Saffron, architecture critic for the Inquirer:
Unable to afford real stone, he chose concrete blocks ground from Delaware River rock, so the building would sit heavy on the earth and you would feel the massiveness of its walls. Close up, you can see the rough block was an inspired choice, giving the modern pool house the dignity of a Levant ruin. The high, solid walls shield a serene refuge. Entering from the recessed side door is like navigating an ancient souk.
Expected completion of the project, mid-September. I’m looking forward to photographing it.