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Category: New York City

New York City, Punk Rock, and Drug-Fueled Tales Through Richard Hell’s Eyes

Seeing the wonderful Susan Seidelman film Smithereens (1982) piqued an interest in Richard Hell, who is oft credited for launching the punk rock scene in NYC, and in particular at CBGB. Hell basically plays a much less successful version of himself in the film. I finished reading his 2013 autobiography, I Dreamed I was a Clean Tramp a few days ago.  Hell helped found the seminal band Television (original called the Neon Boys) with Tom Verlaine, but the two didn’t see eye to eye and he left the same week that Jerry Nolan and Johnny Thunders quit the short-lived New York Dolls. The three formed the band the Heartbreakers (not to be confused with Tom Petty’s far more famous group) and soon thereafter, Walter Lure joined as the second guitarist. During Hell’s stint with the band, they recorded four demos and one live album that wasn’t released until 1991. In early 1976, Hell quit the Heartbreakers and fronted Richard Hell and the Voidoids, another short-lived band with Robert Quine, Ivan Julian and Marc Bell. Their first album Blank Generation was released in 1977 on Sire Records and they followed up with Destiny Street in 1982 on Red Star Records. Some of the timeline of Hell’s memoir overlapped with my coming of age trips to NYC when I was in art school at RISD. I stayed with my older sister who lived in various tenements apartments in the West Village and Soho before it was gentrified. I really didn’t frequent the East Village back then (Hell’s haunts), although I did spend a lot of time on the Lower East Side. The exception was a laughable off-off Broadway production of No Exit at the Royal Playhouse at 219 Second Avenue. I wasn’t the music club type, so sadly I never went to…

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A NYC Candy Maker Extraordinaire

    If you’re a candy lover, you may associate the name Heide with Jujyfruits, Jujubes, Red Hot Dollars, Gummi Bears and Mexican Hats. They also manufactured a candy called Chocolate Babies, which were cloyingly sweet like candy corn with a slight chocolate taste. The figural candies had faces that looked more like Tikis than babies. In their earliest days, they manufactured a candy with such an incredibly offensive racist name that I’m not going to include it in this article.     Jujubes in particular sparked my interest in exploring the history of this company. As a young adult, when I worked at Bronson Coles Photography Studios at the Lincoln Village Mall, my coworker and friend Merle turned me on to Jujubes. She told me that they were a great way to satisfy a sweet tooth, but relatively low in calories if you could eat just a couple. I tried eating just a few Jujubes, but my candy eating restraint tactics rarely lasted. To this day, I still love Jujubes and have a bright green t-shirt with the modern Jujubes logo that Jeff bought me. Trivia: In the 1976 film Taxi Driver Travis Bickle (Robert De Niro) buys Chuckles, among other things from the concessions stand at the adult cinema. He tells the concessions girl that he prefers Jujubes because they last longer. While the original jujube candy dates back to 1709, Henry Heide, founder of Henry Heide, Inc., was responsible for introducing his own unique version to America in the 1920s. The original flavors were lilac, violet, rose, lemon, and spearmint. Today, the flavors are so subtle that I sometimes just refer to them by their colors. The box says: violet, lilac, lime, wild cherry and lemon – I don’t detect violet, but of course, I am used…

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The Magical Inner Sanctum of a Greenwich Village Treasure

  On my recent trip to NYC, I stumbled upon a hidden treasure trove at a four-story historic building at 23 Jane Street. I have been to NYC many times – both in the mid-to late 1970s, once or twice in the early 1980s and at least a dozen times in the 2000s. How did the existence of this remarkable relic escape the eyes of a trained sculptor and artist? Well, I guess that’s one of the reasons I’m still fascinated with NYC. Despite its gentrification, razing of so many historic buildings, the Disneyfication of Times Square and those pencil buildings on 57th Street that drastically changed the iconic NYC skyline, The Big Apple reveals historic treasures when you least expect them! I was taking photos of the P.E. Guerin window and exterior shots from across the street. A nice gentleman who was standing nearby asked if I would like to see the inside. Heck, yes – this is the kind of adventure that makes my heart skip a beat. We went inside and my eyes nearly popped out. I was surrounded by such exquisite pieces on every wall that I felt I had stepped back in time to Paris or London, not NYC, circa June 2022. The place is a veritable museum and feast for the eyes, especially for artists, sculptors and antique collectors like me. At RISD, I took several foundry courses, so I know more than the average person about bronze and casting processes. Not surprisingly, art students from Parsons, Pratt, Cooper-Union and FIT have toured this wonderful place.     I met P.E. Guerin Vice President Martin Grubman, who has worked at the firm since November 1987. Marty was kind enough to talk to me on the spur of the moment and share the company history,…

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Remembering Holidays Past and B. Shackman & Co.

During my childhood and many years thereafter, my parents would make an annual trip to NYC in December for a psychiatric meeting. For several decades, they stayed at the Waldorf Astoria where the meeting was held. As a native New Yorker, my dad loved going back to NYC and combining the professional trip with pleasure. My parents would always see at least one Broadway play, went to museums and art galleries, and enjoyed eating at the Lexington Candy Shop, the original 2nd Avenue Deli, Carnegie Deli, and later Sarge’s Deli when they stayed in Murray Hill. One of my fondest memories is when plain cardboard boxes of candy would arrive from Russ & Daughters. Back in the 1960s, gourmet candy shops were scarce in Chicago. My dad would go to the store on the Lower East Side and order dark chocolate covered coffee beans, chocolate lentils, and chocolate-covered raspberry rings that were shipped to our house. I fondly recalled this in a 2014 blog. Although my dad was strict in many ways, this didn’t apply to candy – we ate as much as we wanted, which kept our childhood dentist busy! In addition to buying candy, my parents liked shopping at B. Shackman. If the meeting was in early December and Hanukkah occurred later in the month, they would bring home cool little gifts purchased there. In much the same way as Christmas stocking stuffers, we would receive these nifty little items after receiving our major gift the first night. I clearly remember receiving the animal erasers with googly eyes. B. Shackman sold an amazing array of novelty toys, miniatures for dollhouses, and reproductions of antique toys and paper ephemera. Interestingly, many of the reproductions they sold in the 1960s would now be considered vintage collectibles. Plenty of B. Shackman…

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Tribute to My Dad: His Creative and Cultural Influence on My Life

It’s hard to believe nearly six months have passed since my dad lost his valiant battle against COVID-19. This was my first Father’s day without him and I miss him dearly! But his creative, generous, and witty soul lives in my heart and mind until the end of time.      Art and culture infused my dad’s life with richness and he passed this love and appreciation down to all three of his daughters. My dad was a talented photographer and avid art collector and my mom is a fine artist. I inherited both of these talents and they nurtured them in me when I was growing up. I went to the Young Artists Studio at the School of the Art Institute the summer after 8th grade and my parents were thrilled when I was accepted to RISD, a dream I had since I was very young. During my youth through early adulthood, two of their artist friends mentored me – Bebe Krimmer and Caryl Seidenberg.  Art Museums and Galleries    My dad was a lifetime member of the Art Institute of Chicago and Museum of Contemporary Art (MCA) and I started going when I was quite young. I remember attending the 1967 opening of the MCA at 237 E. Ontario and seeing some crazy installations. They also had these weird vending machines with little artist stickers and I got one with photos of naked boobs which I misplaced shortly thereafter.   My dad was also a longtime member of several NYC museums including MOMA, the Met, the Jewish Museum, and The Morgan Library. He was a passionate art collector with an affinity for German expressionism and photography. The first print he ever bought was a portrait by Rembrandt, oddly from Phyllis Kind, who later was known for exhibiting and…

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Connecting the Past to Present in NYC Photographs

Over the last two years, I have scanned black and white negatives and a few color slides I shot in NYC between late 1976 and 1980 when I was a student at the Rhode Island School of Design. My older sister lived in various apartments in SoHo and Greenwich Village and I visited every chance I got on school breaks. I enlarged and matted about 25 of these photos and took them with me when I moved to Rotterdam, the Netherlands in July 1980. I never printed any of the other photos, so scanning them provided an avenue of rediscovery of my own youth and a gritty NYC that no longer exists. This project summoned an array of emotions and memories about this “coming of age” period in my life and the inevitable passage of time.     In 1981, I showed these photos in Rotterdam and got some press, one of which was a little critical and missed the point of my photographs. The critic said that my photographs lacked the social commentary of Bruce Davidson’s work. Although I admire Davidson’s work, it was never my intention to emulate his socially conscious photography. A few select photographers informed my early photographic work – especially those who worked for the Farm Security Administration, such as Walker Evans, Russell Lee, Jack Delano, and the great photographer Berenice Abbott. Today, my photos have far more meaning than they did back then because they picture a NYC that no longer exists due to gentrification, over commercialization, and greed disguised as progress. NYC in the 1970s I was a little astonished that I ventured into areas that were considered dangerous back in the 1970s, as evidenced by many articles written on this dark and turbulent era in NYC history. Yes, the city was edgy and…

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The Demise of Gem Spa is Another Sign of a Vanishing NYC

Like so many others businesses that have closed in the last decades, Gem Spa in NYC’s East Village couldn’t sustain its business and closed in early May 2020. Although they had financial problems over the years, and most recently in 2019 after losing their lottery and tobacco license, the current owners said the COVID-19 pandemic was the last straw. If you read my blog, you may know that NYC is like a second home to me. The closing of Gem Spa feels like one other place of my youth has slipped away. Although I’m also upset that Jeri’s Grill closed in Chicago, NYC will always be associated with a magical time in my early adulthood when I was spreading my wings creatively, intellectually, and emotionally. This was before sky-high rents forced so many businesses to close and prior to gentrification stripped the Big Apple of much of its gritty character. Unfortunately, Gem Spa isn’t the only thing that has changed on this once incredibly hip intersection of the East Village. When I visited in 2018, I thought St. Mark’s pretty much resembled many other somewhat gentrified NYC streets, albeit with a few vestiges of its storied past.   Located on the corner of St. Marks Place and Second Avenue, the beloved and iconic newsstand dates back to the 1920’s. It operated under a different name until 1957 when the name changed to the Gems Spa – at some point the S was dropped in Gem. It was a favorite hangout of Beat poets, hippies, punk rockers, local residents, and tourists. They sold local newspapers and magazines, including a wide array of international and underground papers and magazines, except for pornography. The little corner business was also famous for its egg creams (a NY drink made from milk, chocolate or vanilla…

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The Greatest Magician of the Early 20th Century Wasn’t Houdini

A few months ago I was looking for vintage magic images to use in my collages. I stumbled upon wonderful posters for a magician named Howard Thurston. Well, you know how one things lead to another – I soon found myself engrossed in a superb book about said magician and the early history of magic in America. The Last Greatest Magician in the World by Jim Steinmeyer sheds light on the greatest magician of the early 20th century who essentially faded into oblivion. Unless you’re a magician, magic aficionado, or collector, you likely haven’t heard about this guy. Everybody has heard of Harry Houdini, but as Steinmeyer points out, while he was a great escape artist, Houdini wasn’t all that impressive when it came to card tricks and illusions. Thurston was five years older and four inches taller than his peer and oft adversary Houdini. Early Beginnings Born on July 20, 1869 in Columbus, Ohio, Thurston had four siblings – May (Myrtle) the eldest was born in 1865, followed by Charles, Howard, Harry (who figures prominently in this story), and William. Their father’s carriage business collapsed in 1873 and he subsequently tinkered with making a wide array of inventions, none of which were successful. Unable to support his family, his father had a mild nervous breakdown and started spending a lot of time at the corner saloon. By all accounts, he was a wretched and abusive father and husband who regularly beat his children and wife. Other than Harry, the only mention of the other siblings in the book is when Charles was murdered in February 1920 while working as a railroad detective in Columbus. The murderer escaped after pumping eight bullet holes into Charles’ back. When he was just 12, Thurston started earned money selling newspapers on trains between…

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10 Female Artists I Didn’t Learn About in Art School

I’ve been reading old Art in America issues and it hit me like a ton of bricks that I learned only about a handful of female artists at the Rhode Island School of Design (RISD). I do remember the visiting artist Jackie Winsor talking about Eva Hesse and Ana Mendieta. On the other hand, we were introduced to many female authors and several famous ones gave lectures. I met Elaine de Kooning, who was a guest lecturer during my art history class with Baruch Kirschenbaum freshman year. She showed us photos of the sketches for her commissioned JFK painting, among other pieces. It made sense that she was invited to RISD – apparently she was tight friends with Lee Hall, then president of RISD. Hall would betray her good friend four years after de Kooning’s 1989 death from lung cancer in her book, Elaine and Bill: Portrait of a Marriage / The Lives of Willem and Elaine de Kooning. By all accounts, this was a salacious, tell-all, shoddily researched book with mediocre writing that was butchered by critics. I think the reason we didn’t learn about more female artists was tied to the era in which I went to RISD, 1976 – 1980. Moreover, many female artists who later gained fame were virtually unknown when I was in art school. So in honor of Women’s History Month, here are 10 trailblazing female artists I’m glad I learned about – better late than never. This list barely scratches the surface, but it’s a start.   Grace Hartigan (1922 – 2008): I certainly was aware of Helen Frankenthaler and Joan Mitchell, but somehow didn’t know anything about Hartigan until recently. Interestingly, she was the first female Abstract Expressionist to gain fame in 1950, when art critic Clement Greenberg and art historian Meyer…

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A Visual Tribute to Barber Shops

As a fine artist and photographer, I’ve always been obsessed with barber shops – visually. I don’t particularly like going to beauty salons to get my hair cut. I think barber shops are far more interesting and less snooty. After graduating early from high school, I would go on outings with my mom (who is also an artist) on Lincoln Avenue in Chicago, where I photographed interesting storefronts. Even back then I was drawn to barber shops. My admiration of a few select photographers informed my early photographic work – especially those who worked for the Farm Security Administration, such as Walker Evans and Russell Lee, as well as the great photographer Berenice Abbott. All of them took wonderful photos of barber shops.     Back when I was an art student at RISD, I photographed quite a few barber shops in Providence and NYC. Unfortunately, I didn’t note where the NYC barber shops were located, however, I do remember one because of the circumstances. The below barber (on Lafayette Street) came outside when he saw me photographing the exterior. He volunteered to pose, which seemed nice enough. Nobody else was there and after he made a few suggestive comments and asked inappropriate questions, I high tailed it out of there rather quickly.     Many barber shops are still decorated with really cool ephemera and antiques that add to the appeal of getting your hair cut. An example is the JMC Barber Shop, which I stumbled upon last August in Elmhurst, Ill. I have never seen such a visual explosion covering every imaginable wall space – you couldn’t possibly get bored when you get your hair cut here!   While I prefer my vintage late 1970s black and white shots, I have taken color photos of barber shops when…

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