By Caitlin Hawke

On this blog, I've written a lot about enterprise on Broadway, so much so that there's a whole category at the right where I tag just those posts. (To dive in, you can see, in particular, Part 1, Part 2 and Part 3 of the series I call "Empty Storefronts and the Changing Streetscape.)

Generally speaking, the series has chronicled the uptick in long-empty retail spaces, the loss of Mom & Pops, and the darkening of movie houses. Now I turn to the shuttering in October of three dine-in restaurants in such quick succession that if leaves me wondering if a new trend is afoot.

Either way, gone are Mezzogiorno, Il Gatto Nero and Henry's; all of these folded up shop in October.

Notoriously hard to sustain, eateries represent a key piece of the retail ecosystem. But they are as sensitive to rent and labor increases as any other commerce.  However, unlike the old Broadway shopper's pivot to patronizing etailers, New Yorkers still dine in their neighborhoods.

Take for example, the closure on October 14 of Mezzogiorno (2791 Broadway) which was in the old Indian Cafe space north of W. 107th Street. After a very lengthy, costly renovation, this gentrifier of an Italian spot opened in 2015 just as its owners were preparing to close the chic, decades-old SoHo location. A surprise to all, I think, they looked to Bloomingdale to resettle. I concluded at the time that the rent savings made the uptown operation viable. And yet three years later, it has closed. Perhaps Bloomingdalers didn't care for the higher price point or the flush old regulars didn't find their way uptown. The clock struck mezzanotte at Mezzogiorno, and their 31-year run is now over.

Then, Il Gatto Nero, just a block south at W. 106th Street (2758 Broadway), also closed suddenly in early October "unable to carry on in this economy." It had only been open a handful of months, having replaced the well-received but overpriced-for-what-it-was Macchina. That machine is now a ghost having died young, too. 

Yelp reviews praised each of these places (though there was the legendary takedown or two). And they attracted nods of approval from the Michelin guide, for what that's worth. They just didn't keep us pouring through their doors.

Of the three, the one loss that stings was Henry’s. News came only a week or two before the October 21 closure, when owner Henry Rinehart announced in an email his plans to move on from his Frank-Lloyd-Wrightian restaurant that stood at W. 105th Street for 19 years and bore his name. Henry's replaced Birdland for those of you who recall back to the space's jazzier days. Rinehart’s reason was "a change in personal and professional priorities." The business has now passed to Henry’s partner chef Scott Snyder and his Boulevard Seafood Company, soon to be reviewed in these pages.  You may be relieved to learn that the famous kale salad will die another day since Chef Snyder didn't nudge it off the menu.

Under Rinehart, Henry's was, to many, a Cheers -- the sitcom bar made famous by an ensemble of wry barflies yearning for a 'third place' to take a break from their worries. Hopping bar scene. Sports mecca. Brunch spot. Outdoor cafe. Neighborhood sing-in club. An ample Thanksgiving table away from the hearth or for the weary home cook. A place where if they didn't know your name, at least they acknowledged you as a regular. Henry’s had it all and was a big player in the community. And if that isn't enough, Henry himself was an advocate for healthier school lunches.

I don't doubt that many felt Henry's had its gentrifying side when it first took root. It was always a bit above other local haunts in terms of cost. I noticed that prices crept upward recently. Perhaps to fend off what became an inevitable battle to reap profit out of such expansive square footage. Alas, Henry's is no more.

To paraphrase James Carville, I wonder if what I am observing isn’t along the lines of the temple-thumping exclamation: “It's the rent, stupid!” — similar to the problem with the Mom & Pop die off. But the answer may be more complex. Restaurants might be competing with the availability of high-end prepared foods that come from Whole Foods or West Side Market, or with the quality specialty ingredients home cooks can now find at Trader Joe’s and H Mart, among other groceries.

As I say above, restaurants don’t yet seem to be victims of etailers like Amazon, but is something other than rent pressure weighing on the old-style dine-in spots? Is it that the market only bears up to a certain menu price point around here? Or is it just a matter of time before more Serafinas move in, more large restaurants go vacant, or just more turnover occurs?

Fortunately, city council members regularly take up the topic of commercial rents, mindful of all the vacancies. Unfortunately, the needle never moves much. It seems early to say, but we might be seeing a little progress with new legislation sponsored and small business committee hearings held by Ydanis Rodriguez. Councilmember Helen Rosenthal is also a proponent.

Called the “Small Business Jobs Survival Act,” the bill aims to define conditions and requirements for commercial lease renewal negotiations, requirements for lease renewal terms, arbitration-triggering conditions, limits on security deposits, and prohibitions on landlord retaliation.

I’ve been writing about the changing streetscape a lot because some days I feel like we’re in the 11th hour, the 59th minute of what I view as a retail crisis on Broadway. And while restaurants may not be as endangered as Mom & Pop retailers, I truly hope we don't wait until the last minute to solve the economics of Broadway. We can see with our own eyes that the law of supply and demand has been subverted. But it can be fixed.  But sadly not in time to sing for our supper at Henry’s.

By Caitlin Hawke

Spearheaded by neighbors Nancy Macagno and Pam Tice, the Bloomingdale Neighborhood History Group have pulled together a program "Bloomingdale Blocks" featuring the history of how block associations got started in these parts with help from the Citizens Committee for New York City. Note the groovy detail from our June 15, 1972, newsletter showing the then-directors of this BA looking like they stepped right out of the musical Hair.

David Reich, Mort Berkowitz and Jean Jaworek all will present.Details in the flyer below.

​Come on out on Tuesday and give thanks.

In the meantime, a very happy TG to you all!

By Caitlin Hawke

Thanks go to Celia Knight who sent the photo below of two hearty neighbors on a rainy Saturday. They  joined the Block Association team headed by Mark Schneiderman, head of the ecology committee, to weed, clean, plant bulbs and generally beautify our tree wells.

They came. They saw. They mulched. And our trees are all the better for it.

If you are interested in the state of city trees, on October 24, at 6:30 p.m., Parks & Rec is holding a street tree workshop. You'll find the flyer below.  I wanted to add a lagniappe from SNL this week, a rap ode to trees. But it truly wasn't ready for prime time. Best line: "You can agree that more trees isn't a bad thing, right though?"

#Truth

By Caitlin Hawke

Two weeks from today, on Saturday, September 29, from 10 a.m. to 5 p.m., West 104th Street between Riverside Drive and West End Avenue becomes the best place to be.  Our yard sale was rained out earlier this year, but our neighbors over on 104th are hard at work making offerings to weather gods and booking vendors for this annual event.

It's a great way to turn your unwanted household items into gold while someone goes off happy to give your junque a new life in a happy home. If you don't live on the block, a vendor space will set you back $60 and a space is big enough to split with a friend. All the details may be found here.

Once you are done vending on 104th, don't throw the rest of it away!  Discover (and thank me later for telling you now) the fabulous freecycling (freegan) community of trashnothing.com.  Part cult, part utopia, part distribution of resources, trashnothing.com is an electronic bulletin board where you can put up "haves" or "wants" for quite literally anything.  Trim your book collection, winnow your pots and pans, give away kid items and clothes. Or post an "ask" for a crockpot, a curling iron, an electric drill. You will be amazed by how this community comes through. And it's all in the name of not letting anything go to waste ever again.  The New York City group has 64,000 members.  Read the boards to get the hang of it, sign in, and get started decluttering today!

Only catch is that everything changes hands completely free.

See you in two weeks on 104th Street!

By Caitlin Hawke

There is a season, turn, turn, turn.

From yesterday to today, there's a distinct change of air. Gone is that oppressive humidity and stratospheric heat. It could flop back, mind you. But we know now that the autumn train is unstoppable.

At this turn of season, it doesn't matter how old I get: those back-to-school butterflies and the urges for a sharp new outfit impose themselves like some annual version of a circadian rhythm. Those togs -- usually woolen, preferably plaid, always crisp -- chafed on the child's body that had been in a bathing suit and sundresses for the prior three months. But it was a rite of passage to go back-to-school shopping with my mom, the way she might have gone to San Francisco's City of Paris for her own new fall uniform with her mom. And to come out the other end of the mini-spree with something that said: "Fall, I am freshly clad for you and you alone."

The best were the patent leather Mary Janes. You don't see a lot of Mary Janes anymore. And Crocs still haven't caught on to patent leather. But Birks have.

And speaking of Birks, we won't give up the sandals just yet; summer technically still has a few weeks to wage on. With the warmer planet, high temps test their welcome, but the change of light always rats fall out. You've noticed the sun rapidly falling from its zenith, you've seen the equinox tugging down at the night shade. Yet tomatoes and stone fruits still roll in fast and furious.

It's been several warm weeks since I last posted, but I've been out there watching. The neighborhood provides endless inspiration as a muse. I promise, there's lots more coming as time permits.

For those neighbors who've been traveling or grinding away at work, you may not know that our ginkgo warrior at W. 103rd Street and West End finally came down on August 17. Bettina B. watched this from her window wistfully -- "like an old friend dying without a proper send off," she said.

Indeed.

That ginkgo's sad story will fade. Turn, turn, turn. 

Old neighbors are sort of like that, too. You miss them and feel as if they're still here. Then someone moves into their old space and you get used to the new normal. Then one day you wake up and you are in the old guard in your building surrounded by new neighbors who don't remember Positively 104th Street or Au Petit Beurre. The Movie Place. The Metro. The Olympia. La Casita or La Tacita d'Oro. And you think warmly of the neighbors who have moved or pushed on to the great unknown.

Reminds me of a lyric:

Which brings me to another thing seen recently in the neighborhood. This one, in flagrante grafitto, is courtesy of David O., taken from the terrace of a walk-up on the beautiful 300 block of W. 105th Street. Is it foolish to hope, 38 years after the tagging, that RC + MS are still going strong? Or were they just huckleberry friends back in the '80s?  If you are out there, let us know.

It's not all wistfulness about the end of summer around here, rest assured. There are great things to look forward to. The New York Film Festival fires up in a few weeks and neighbor Manny Kirchheimer will be on the slate with Dream of a City. You can buy tickets starting on September 9.

And there's the yard sale put on by the W. 104th St. Block Association fast approaching on September 29, 10 a.m.-5 p.m. Vendor tables are still available, but clear your Saturday and turn out. It's always fun. Plus with all the high holy days between now and then it will be here before you know it.

And last by not least, we have a primary coming up quickly. Thursday, September 13 is the day. You can find your polling place here.

Deep in December, you'll look back on mellow September. In the meantime, follow, follow, follow this blog for more.


My lagniappe today is a newly unearthed Pete Seeger demo. A piece of perfection, scratchy vinyl and all. (For those reading in an email subscription, simply click the link to hear the recording.)

By Caitlin Hawke

If you are a regular or long-time reader of this blog and know one culinary thing about me, it's my fondness for Sun-Chan. That fondness is hard to dissociate from the late co-owner, Kumiko Imamura, who died suddenly just a couple of weeks ago. It makes me terribly sad that I don't have a decent picture of her, except for in my mind where she is alive and vibrant as ever. But the picture above captures her in context and in motion, as she aways was. And the picture below shows her at far left beside Tokishige, her co-owner and husband, at work in the kitchen.

If you want to know why I was a hugely appreciative fan, you could have a look at this post or this one. And I wrote this one, stunned by the news of her loss.

On Sunday, May 20, from 2 to 6 p.m. at the restaurant on the west side of Broadway between W. 103rd and 104th Streets, Tokishige and the Sun-Chan family will hold a remembrance. If you appreciate all that is authentic, slow, down to earth, communal, and kind, you join me in mourning her.

By Caitlin Hawke

Perhaps you are planning to be a vendor at this Saturday's Block Party? Good for you: you've tidied your cabinets and winnowed your closets of old items that you are now giving a chance at another good home. But a few toxins remain to be dealt with.

Or if you've been lazily watching everyone ferry their stuff to the Block Party to sell it off and you're feeling guilty that your clutter is amassing, here's an event for you.

On Sunday, you can get rid of all that hard-to-toss stuff at a SAFE Disposal Event put on by NYC's Department of Sanitation. SAFE Disposal is specifically for items that fall into the categories of Solvents, Automotive, Flammable and Electronics.

SAFE Disposal takes place on Sunday, May 20, from 10 a.m. to 4 p.m., on W. 120th Street between Broadway and Amsterdam Avenue.

Materials accepted include common household products such as auto fluids, batteries, electronics, strong cleaners, medications, paint and more.

See this link for further details.

The "One from the Vault" feature plumbs the archives of back issues of block association newsletters for new neighbors and lovers of our community and its history.  To read others pieces from the vault, click on the category at right.


By Caitlin Hawke

The one from the vault below by past editor of the Block Association newsletter Jock Davenport is about parking challenges. The piece is now over 20 years old but given new talk about parking garages, paying for street parking, and congestion pricing, I thought it might resonate.

Today, parking spaces cost considerably less than rent on a studio apartments (at least in this community), but much of this sounds rather familiar.  It's the time honored dance of alternate side of the street parking.

Some of you know the ASSP dance all too well, crosswords and coffee in hand or maybe it's Words with Friends.  You manage to work your schedule around this very NYC ritual.  Enjoy it while you can. 

Just not this coming Thursday, May 10, when rules are suspended for Ascension!

The "One from the Vault" feature plumbs the archives of back issues of block association newsletters for new neighbors and lovers of our community and its history.  To read others pieces from the vault, click on the category at right.


By Caitlin Hawke

New to the neighborhood or simply moved here in the last 13 years? Perhaps you've wondered about the story behind the stories of the two towers at W. 100th Street and Broadway. Wonder no more. This one from the vault written by David Reich lays it all bare.  St. Michael's was a player in the rising skyline.  That intangibly opaque thing involving the acquisition of 'air rights' added to the mix.  A key decision not to put in parking underground allowed the whole thing to move forward "as of right." And lo!  Two highrises were a fait accompli.  Yeah, I know.  The Zeckendorf's Columbia on the NW corner of Broadway and 96th was the game changer of the early 1980s.  And in the early 2010s Columbus Square transformed the Park West Village area. And I know what is now happening up on W. 108th Street.

All those carveouts (see illustration below) on the west side of Broadway in the last landmarking phase in 2015 will usher in new stories of skyscraping construction soon enough.

Some new construction will be known to neighbors in advance.  Some will squeak by under cover of night.  Of this I am sure.

(See the "As Designated" map with the 2015 landmark boundaries that exclude nearly every building on the west side of Broadway. The map "As Proposed" with the red border only carved out a few buildings by contrast.)

So, you got something to say about Ariel East and West?

Extell me about it! 

By Caitlin Hawke

Have you secured your vendor's table at our May 19 Block Party yet? All the information you need is right here. If you are a resident of the Block Association's catchment, it's just $50 for a spot from which you can turn your no-longer-needed possessions into rent money or a couple of dinners on the town.

If you are like me, you love the haggle. You love the circle-game of old things finding new life in the twinkle of a stranger's eye. You love the cash. You love the feeling of community. And you love the idea of winnowing your cupboards and drawers.

If you don't want to vend, hawk or huckster, why not just tell all your friends with overbrimming closets that this is an occasion to be seized!  For folks outside the catchment, the fee is $70.

Click on the Block Party tab on our website for an FAQ and all the deets.

And don't forget to save the date and come noodle down the street. There's deals to be had and treasures to be unearthed.

It's my favorite Block Party tradition.

(Click here to see the lagniappe video below if you are reading this via email subscription).

By Caitlin Hawke

Blow a kiss. Take a bow!

I am looking at you Mark Schneiderman (coordinator), Michael Stearns, St. Luke's, Tina, all you neighbors who lugged, mulched, dug, tidied, planted, watered, crouched, knelt, and helpfully applauded from the sidelines.  

All hail the Block Association's eco committee and your beautiful results.

Our tree wells, as shot by Celia Knight below, are ready for the throngs to come pouring through for our Block Party on May 19. (Did you reserve your table yet, vendors?).

At far bottom is a Merman lagniappe from 1961 with cameos by Lenny Bernstein and Old Blue eyes. (Remember to click on the blog title or here if you are receiving this directly in your email box.)

"We want to thank everyone for all the years of fun. It has been a journey that has meant the world to us. Please come in and see us one more time this week. I love you all. Thank you, Paul"

I really could go on (and go off) about this.  But I think I'll leave it at "Res ipsa loquitur."

Denial? I got something for you! Tuesday night, you can catch some live music at 8 p.m.

I give you Abbey Lincoln as my outro. (If you receive this via email, click here to listen to Abbey).



h/t to Terence Hanrahan for the scoop about this news.

Abbey Lincoln signs Bobby D.
(Click here if you are reading this in an email subscription).

By Caitlin Hawke

Saturday, April 21 is the Block Association's annual day to come out and plant your heart out. You'll find the details in the poster below. As I've said before: you'll be a good kind of tired when it's all said and done.

Kids, bring your folks.  And folks, bring your kids. It's all in the neighborhood, and it's good (so-so) clean fun as you'll see in the past galleries here and here.

If you need additional information, email trees@w102-103blockassn.org.

The "One from the Vault" feature plumbs the archives of back issues of block association newsletters for new neighbors and lovers of our community and its history. To read others pieces from the vault, click on the category at right.


By Caitlin Hawke

Missing Lincoln Plaza Cinemas, my thoughts turned to the landmarked Metro Twin at 2626 Broadway and I recalled I had this old newsletter article (below).

You'll see that the account is about the Metro's last gasp as a movie house almost 13 years ago. Its current state of not-so-benign neglect is a tale worth telling and retelling. There's more about the house's chronology here. But the truth is, aside from a near-miss with the Alamo Drafthouse chain and rumors of a fitness center moving in, there's not been much action at the Metro since this article was written.

I know many in the area hold out hope that it can be revived as a cinema.  But sadly, I doubt the Metro could serve again for films because, it was gutted to make room for a big box-type store. I've suspected that the expense of making it back into a multiplex is what scared off the Alamo folks.  

And the Metro's exterior is not a pretty picture, as the marquis begins to sag. That's what I mean by not-so-benign neglect. The community really should organize to find some solution so the whole thing doesn't just crumble around our feet. It's happened before around here: the Riverside Theatre at 96th and Broadway suffered a collapse and was demolished around 1974. It could well happen again with the Metro.

And now, just as cinephiles are despairing over the loss of Lincoln Plaza, good news may be in store. Norma Levy, a film-loving Upper West Sider has organized a movement called Coalition for a New Cinema that has incorporated, put up a website, formed committees and begun to raise funds to keep an independent cinema operating somewhere on the UWS.  Over 11,000 people signed a petition to try to save Lincoln Plaza, so Levy began to explore options. With a "New Plaza Cinema" as the goal, the Coalition was formed in the hope of "creating and operating a new cinema devoted to quality independent and foreign films on the Upper West Side of Manhattan."

We might just get our own little Metrograph if these movers and shakers get the help they need from the community.  The Coalition is looking for help to draft a business plan, raise funds and get the word out. You are hereby invited to attend an organizing meeting:

When: April 17, 7 p.m.
Where: 142 West End Avenue, Apt. 27L (entrance is on 66th Street between Amsterdam and West End)
What: to hear further details on progress and plans and obtain community input on the effort to open a new movie theater.

Read more here. (H/t to neighbor Esther R. for the news.)

So two mysteries to be solved: will the New Plaza rise and will the Metro rise again?

And now, one from the vault dated September 2005.

By Caitlin Hawke

My apologies to readers. I noted in an earlier blog post that there are plans for some upgrades at the Bloomingdale branch of the NYPL. The date I gave for the begin of work was not firm and the prior post has been updated to indicate that no firm date for the closure is established. As soon as the library has that date, they will share it with the community and I will post the information on the blog.

In the meantime, there is plenty on tap at the Bloomingdale branch!

What, you ask? Photocopiers, computer loans, sewing classes, collaging, baby storytime and open play, teen groups, and the April 28th BAiP play-reading event. Through May, you can see Nancy C. Evers's photo exhibit "Global Graffiti."

To see the hours or calendar, please visit:www.nypl.org/locations/bloomingdale.

For those willing to venture forth to other branches, don't forget the promising exhibit up at the Belafonte.  The opening reception is this Thursday from 5-6:30 p.m. at W. 115th and Adam Clayton Powell, Jr. Boulevard.

NOTE: This post has been updated to reflect that the work at the Bloomingdale branch is not yet firmly scheduled. Please stay tuned. I will post firm information as soon as it is set.

By Caitlin Hawke

Watch this space because sometime in the coming year, our beloved Bloomingdale branch of the NYPL will be closing for a year's worth of upgrades, including a new teen space. Between now and then, check out David Ochoa's collage workshop that he runs for BAiP and the library's community every Monday at 2 pm. Also coming up on April 28th is BAiP's 4th Annual Play-reading event. 

Once the Bloomingdale NYPL work begins, neighbors will be scattered to different NYPL branches during the hiatus. So now's a great time to explore which branch you'll check out!  May I suggest the Belafonte?

Neighbor Helen Broady shared the flyer below about a collections-inspired art exhibit, Infinite Archive: NYPL, at the Harry Belafonte branch at W. 115th and Adam Clayton Powell Boulevard.  The opening happens this Thursday, April 5, from 5:00-6:30pm and you are cordially invited to check it out.  The exhibit includes works from 30 artists each responding to a book, poem, periodical or other archival material from The New York Public Library’s vast collection.  Infinite Archive: NYPL runs through August. If you miss the opening, the exhibit is on view during regular library hours Tuesday to Saturday.

I've sung the praises here of the NYPL in general for their digital collections and in particular for the Bloomingdale branch's devoted space to neighborhood archives gathered by the Bloomingdale Neighborhood History Group.  And while I have many a bone to pick with some of the strategic decisions and real estate transactions the NYPL has imprudently rolled out, its collections are -- to grossly understate it -- a city treasure.  I find myself poking around in them all the time.

So the theme of this art exhibit at Belafonte is a very intriguing intersection of old and new.

Here's an excerpt from the press release and for more information, visit the branch's website. Hope to see you there!

By Caitlin Hawke

With all the talk about various coming MTA station closures for "digital upgrades" on the B and C line, I am reminded that some of us lived through the IRT station upgrades at 103rd (2004) and 96th Streets (2010)--and survived to tell the story. Yes, I am grateful for those investments -- more capital than digital. And yes, they took forever.

Let me take you back. Remember the new but miscalculated staircase on the west side of Broadway exiting the 103rd Street station? Each step seemingly a different height, walking up or down it was  something of a funhouse ride or some bad Candid Camera prank -- only the risk was smashing your nose on the way up, or far worse on the way down! They sure did fix it in a flash. And at 96th, remember how prior to the renovation we used an underpass to get to the platform?  It's not that long ago and how quickly we forget. Even with my pathological nostalgia, I can't say I miss that.

Leaving the 96th Street Station, I was looking up the other day and once again saw the real-life version of the rendering above. It struck me as a nice touch. Maybe the sculpture has a function, too. (Pigeon abatement?). Quaint and already retro in its non-digital way.

The looped birdsong that goes with these 200 stainless flowers is intended to have a calming effect on riders. On most days, particularly after a post-apocalyptic commute from work, calming's a thing I am grateful for. Getting most of the way home in one piece on public transportation, is another.

With Spring galloping in, we have real looped birdsong starting up.  And Hawkes do appreciate the birds.

By Caitlin Hawke

Neighbor Emily Berleth clued me in about the locale of the powerful photo on the cover of the April 5 New York Review of Books featuring a piece by Adam Hochschild "Bang for the Buck."  It was taken by William Klein in 1955 near the intersection of W. 103rd Street and Broadway. I looked for the exact location, but I think it is gone (please let me know if you recognize the doorway the boys above are in).

Working in a public health environment, I experienced the same feeling looking at the NYRB cover as I did when I saw a picture of a baby smoking that tore up the internet a while ago. Both images just stop you in your tracks and can never be normalized, or we are done.

But one sits in the shade of our Bill of Rights. The other doesn't. That allowed us, on smoking at least, to rewrite history in just one generation. It reassures me that we could do the same for guns.

But if the big bang of the Second Amendment is still expanding in the form of relaxed gun laws across the country, when will contraction begin? Feeling the need to rewrap my head around it, I had another look:

Nothing about the mighty hunter. And nothing about bump stocks and automatic weapons. Apropos of hunters, a demographer told me last week that their numbers in the U.S. are in steep decline. One can project their die-off, and no one is clamoring to fill in and take up the hunt. Does this mean that new rationales for the right to bear arms will have to be spun out?

Getting back to the kids, if you don't recognize it, the title of this post is a Bushism, made in 2000.  It was taken out of context and was probably more of a slip up.  But he did say "Childrens do learn." Both became a meme. And now, I feel, we have a full-throated answer to the question: Not only are they learning, but they're schooling us, royally.

So, this post is inspired by the photo taken in our neighborhood 65 years ago that resonates loudly today.

It is for all the kids packing up to head to DC, to Central Park West or to their local main drag on Saturday. I am watching you in admiration, and I am watching adults fill into your slipstream and take the ride on your effort.  And I am watching, in this election year, what pressure you might bring to bear on how the right to bear arms is conferred upon our citizenry by our lawmakers and our policymakers -- who all, in the end, will have to answer to the youth, you: our rising voters.

Thanks to you, our tipping point is Parkland.

Our mantra is your mantra: #NeverAgainMSD.  Many of us will say it loudly in person with 6-year-olds, 13-year-olds, 18-year-olds not in tow but way out ahead of us. Pulling us along. Leading the chant.

We owe you deeply for doing the lift we should have done. But failed to do.

Life. Liberty. Happiness. These all precede the Second Amendment, you seem to say. Let's get those right first, you protest. Come November, you warn, he who gets hurt will be he who has stalled.

Saturday, your battle outside will be raging.

By Caitlin Hawke

Did you get yours? The Spring 2018 Block Association newsletter is hot off the press. If you want to jump the gun, you’ll find a copy here.

I’ve lived in the catchment going on half of forever. And still that evening when I put my key to the hole and push open my door to discover the crisp quarterly lying in wait, I drop everything to read it on the spot. Old faithful.

If you are a Block Association member, have you ever wondered how this sweet read wends its way to you? It took me a long time to learn that Ken Henwood was the delivery man for my building, and he’s virtually my next-door neighbor. So, let’s ballpark it at 80 times that Ken has crouched in front of my apartment and glided the quarterly under my door. I am aghast that I’ve never actually thanked him for doing this!  (Ken, thank you!)

If you live in the catchment, you, too, probably have a courier ferrying “old faithful” to your door or building entryway. And you, too, probably dig in as soon as you get it.

We’re coming up on the newsletter’s 47th birthday. The first issue — entitled “Neighborhood News” — rolled off a typewriter on May 20, 1971, thanks to original editor and publisher Richard De Thuin who, sadly, passed away recently. You can read that whole issue right here.

More or less, the newsletter has been chugging along ever since. So here now is a chance to consider the 102-103 Streets Block Association Newsletter and what happens behind the scenes to get it to your door.

The best place to begin is with Hedy Campbell. You may know her name from the many roles she’s had within the Block Association since moving here in 1984. Shortly after arriving, she went to a Block Association board meeting and has stuck around ever since. Over the three and a half decades, she’s organized Halloween parades, solstice caroling nights, Spring planting days, and more.

About eight years ago, the West End Historic Preservation’s effort to landmark the avenue inspired her to think about the people who live in those buildings and the stories they could tell. This led to the launch of the Block Association’s Residents of Long Standing Hall of Fame with 27 inductees and counting — a great feat that we owe to Hedy’s ingenuity and her appreciation for neighborhood and neighbors.

She’s also inadvertently responsible for this blog. Hedy gingerly approached me to manage and update the website when the prior webmaster stepped down. My first response was that I couldn’t imagine taking on more work given my time commitment to BAiP. But how could I say no to her (anyone else ever had that reaction?). That was four years and nearly 300 posts ago!

The hat Hedy’s worn longest is newsletter editor. She took over the duties at the beginning of 1987, succeeding a long line of editors: Richard De Thuin, Mary Louise Taylor, Evelyn Brodwin, Marilyn Ehlers, Connie Fredericks, Ginger Lief and Kathy Giannou. Between 1987 and now, Hedy has had a couple of breaks when Jock Davenport and David Reich each did stints as editor. (My apologies to any past editors I’ve neglected to mention!).

I caught up with Hedy to ask about her 20+ years at the helm. What follows is our recent Q&A.

In the coming weeks, to honor the longevity of our newsletter I’ll be featuring all kinds of pieces “from the vault."  Many of these archival pieces are thanks to Ginger Lief and Ken Henwood who've preserved the back catalog. I'm very grateful to both of them, and to Ginger in particular -- the human "wayback machine." 

So, stick around since there's lots more memory lane to come! And if you are a fan of the newsletter, tell Hedy and her team in the comments below.


Q&A with Hedy Campbell, newsletter editor

Caitlin:  To orient us, what roles have you held within the Block Association over the years?
Hedy: My board positions have been co-chair; chair; treasurer; recording secretary; newsletter editor and co-editor. I ran the Halloween parade for many years. And I’ve run caroling for many years. (Anthony Bellov used to run it but some years ago maxed out. He was happy to continue as the musical brains of the operation as long as somebody else did the organizational stuff.) And for more years than not, I’ve been in charge of yard sale refreshments.

Caitlin: Can you tell me a little about your history with the newsletter?  I know it started in 1971 but tell me about when you entered the picture.
Hedy:  For some years starting in 1987 it was just me and my typewriter and our goal was a monthly distribution, which was a goal I couldn’t consistently meet. I don’t remember when we decided to go quarterly, which actually made brilliant sense because we’ve always asked for dues quarterly. Alan Leverenz was the first designer I worked with. Jock Davenport took over from me as editor for some years. David Reich took it over from him, then I became co-editor with David, then I became editor again.

Caitlin: And here we are. Do you know how much people appreciate the fruits of your labor?
Hedy: Not really. We get occasional comments from readers, mainly written on the flaps of contribution envelopes.

Caitlin: Well believe me, we do. So, how does each issue actually magically appear under my door every three months?
Hedy: The issue gets submitted digitally to Best Copy — the Mom & Pop (or more precisely Pop & Son) copy shop on the northeast corner of 101st Street and Broadway. They print it, insert the loose sheet manually, and fold the print run. Block Association member Eliza Lansdale gets it from them. She counts out newsletters and envelopes and runs around the neighborhood delivering them to sub-distributors and building captains who then distribute them further. For instance, she gives a couple of hundred issues to a high-school student who lives in my building. That person subdivides the batch and delivers to the small buildings on West 102nd Street between Broadway and West End Avenue. The big buildings like the Broadmoor and the Master get batches delivered to their building captains.

Caitlin: Why a print newsletter in this day and age?  Do you foresee a day when it will go electronic?
Hedy: In addition to disseminating information, the print newsletter is our vehicle for envelope distribution, which is still primarily how we receive membership contributions from residents. But residents should know that on our website, they can contribute by credit card any time.

Caitlin: In its slightly anachronistic way, I suspect that a paper copy makes people stop and really take the time to read the news and neighborhood vignettes. How much does it cost to produce?
Hedy: Each issue costs about $800. The contribution envelopes cost about $150. We print 2100 copies. And that’s attractive to our advertisers because I estimate that 2-3 people read each issue, so our reach is around 4000-5000 people. The ads generate income to defray the cost of publication, and thankfully we have all the ads we need. Jane Hopkins has done such a good job! In publishing, a 50:50 ratio of ads to articles is the approximate goal, and we’re roughly there.

Caitlin: OK, we've got the distribution but what about the content -- what's your process there?
Hedy:  Four times a year, about six weeks in advance of publication, I send out an email to contributors in which the article lineup, assignments, and deadline are specified. That email is based both on what we historically print in a particular issue (such as the recurring annual events) as well as any current issues of importance (the gingko tree assault, for example). A group of faithful writers submit their articles, which are then lightly edited; this takes several hours, and I am grateful now to be working with Amy Edelman who has come out the gate very strong in this copy-editing role!  Ads that Jane Hopkins collects and all the articles are sent to the designer, Bradley Spear, who then does a preliminary layout. I review the layout and provide feedback about placement and prioritization. Brad makes changes and returns revised layouts for review. With some luck, only minor tinkering remains. Some issues (like the last one of 2017) require more back and forth until the layout is set. Content is proofread, and corrections are provided to Brad who makes corrections and returns a final proof for review. Brad sends the graphic file to Best Copy for printing. And then we start the delivery process above.

Caitlin: What we in the community get out of the newsletter is intangible: first and foremost, its very existence fosters a sense of community. What do you get out of your involvement with the newsletter?
Hedy: I get to shape the content of what is the primary public face of the organization. I believe that the organization’s role in the community is an important one, and therefore making its functions and initiatives known to residents in a way that reflects our efforts accurately and positively is critical. Although there are many residents who are here and have been here for many years, there’s also a lot of turnover. Providing a sense of perspective, which I can do because I’ve been here a long time, is part of what we want to communicate.

Caitlin: It seems you’ve been looking to train someone to take over for quite a while. Do you think you’ll ever succeed, and if not will this 47-year-old institution of a newsletter vanish?
Hedy: It’s possible. There could come a time when I just have to say that’s it. But for as long as I have an associate who will take care of the nuts and bolts of editing and proofreading, I’m happy to oversee it, keeping an eye on the issues of importance to the organization and assigning articles accordingly.

Caitlin: I know that Ginger Leif, a former editor from the earliest days, performed a colossal labor of love by archiving print issues going back to the very first issue (Thank you, Ginger!). These are now part of the Bloomingdale Neighborhood History Group’s files at the Bloomingdale library branch. Have you ever looked at that collection and felt part of the long continuum of time – that we are all impermanent?
Hedy: I haven’t been over to see the archive. I have my personal collection, so I’m aware how fat the folder has grown. I do feel part of the continuum of the neighborhood, especially as I got to know Cherie Tredanari and Ted and Aysa Berger, who were founders of the organization. I feel as if I accepted a baton from them (Cherie ran Halloween, I took it over from her). And I’m concerned, as I know you are, that the next generation of baton recipients doesn’t seem to have identified itself. With the trend toward two working parents, there just isn’t as much time for volunteerism, and since there’s no pressing issue in the neighborhood for residents to rally around (such as crime or drug dealing, as there once was), I don’t think there’s a sense of urgency to get involved. Although I’m very aware that we’re all very temporary, I prefer to focus on what sort of imprint, if only a subtle one, I can leave while I’m here.

Caitlin:  I keep thinking that connecting via technology has supplanted the need for hyperlocal community. But as technology becomes more and more dehumanizing, people will turn back to the local bricks and mortar community right under their noses. There’s so much benefit in it. That’s the lesson I learned from both the Block Association and BAiP. Which reminds me!  Without the newsletter, BAiP would not have taken off as quickly as it did nine years ago. Because of their communications networks two block associations were able to get word out efficiently to all neighbors in five square blocks about BAiP’s creation. The infrastructure of the block associations and their newsletters jumpstarted BAiP. We need to put that on the balance sheet of under "newsletter successes."
Hedy: I couldn't agree more!

Caitlin: I think it’s pretty obvious that we share the love of living in Bloomingdale.
Hedy: Oh, yes, I’ve loved living here. It’s quiet without being isolated. We aren’t swarmed with foot traffic en route to an attraction or institution. People, if they’re inclined, get to know one another, whether because they do the alternate side shuffle, have children, walk a dog, or hang out at the diner. I used to say, especially when Oppenheimer and the Green Farm were here, that I could walk from my building to 96th Street to shop for Thanksgiving and return with everything I needed even though I’d left my wallet at home. I think it’s still pretty true, but maybe not as much.

Caitlin: A village.
That’s a good place to stop because I know that the Annual Meeting on March 22 will focus on the street-level retail crisis. It sure would be nice if every landlord would make a good faith effort to have the shops on our streets occupied by commercial tenants and usher back in the law of supply and demand, and perhaps a new era of local retail. Thank goodness for the shops we still have -- and for their support of the newsletter. And thank you and your team for bringing it to us four times a year.  There's plainly a great amount of volunteer sweat equity and TLC involved.

By Caitlin Hawke

On Thursday, March 22 at 7 p.m. at the Master (310 Riverside Drive at West 103rd Street), you are invited to the Block Association's Annual Meeting.  The focus -- the Crisis in Commercial Real Estate -- is a topic readers will recognize from the blog a mini-series entitled Empty Storefronts and the Changing Streetscape.  For further reading, see the following:

• Interview with Judith Norell, proprietor of Silver Moon Bakery
• In Joon, Our Fall: The last day at Joon Fish Market
• and my favorite: Stowin' Away the Time & Peelin' Back the Years on the decline of the Korean deli

I think it's going to be a great discussion. Hope to see you there!

By Caitlin Hawke

Neighbors are taking the loss of an Upper West Side film institution personally.  And I must say, I have a lump in my throat.

Alas, this is the dawn of a gloomy week for culture on upper Broadway: we say farewell (sayonara, adios, adieu, arrivederci) to beloved foreign and indie film mecca Lincoln Plaza Cinemas (LPC) for good on Thursday.  LPC goes out with a bang on January 28 when staff plan a tribute to the nonagenarian owners, the late Dan Talbot and his widow Toby.  

Sadly Dan died on December 29 (of a broken heart, perhaps), soon after the announcement that the cinema's partner/landlord Howard Milstein would not entertain lease negotiations. Petitions were drafted. Pleas were made. Emails went out fast and furious.

I'm susceptible to speculation about the motive for not renewing the lease and about what will happen with the space.  Indeed all kinds of rumors now swirl -- that Lincoln Center's Film Society will take it over in a premeditated deal. (Very likely, if you want to place bets). That it will become part of the Alamo movie-beer empire or something similar. That LPC will move into the Metro. (This last one's not gonna happen. I've come to believe that the not-so-benign neglect of our local landmark is a strategy to let it crumble-in-place.  And Toby Talbot has lost her programming partner-in-crime.  And the Metro is completely gutted inside, which is rumored to have killed a local Alamo deal a few years ago for the Metro.  But it sure is a nice Bloomingdale thought.  As Gary Dennis has so beautifully documented, Bloomingdale used to be a contender in the realm of theater and cinema.  But no more.  I always whisper a little prayer for the landmarked Metro exterior to stand tall as long as possible and maybe some angel will bring it back.  A naive little dream, yes.)

While most of these rumors would receive open-armed welcomes, it's sort of hard to believe that anyone would get into the retro business of art-house films these days with everyone glued to their phones, streaming their lives away. The old-time concept of a dark room full of silent strangers collectively sharing the magic is just about as quaint as hailing a yellow cab will soon be. 

But there are fine examples of models that work (more on that below); and there are fine examples, such as the Talbots for the past 40 plus years, of what the hip would call "tastemakers."  Nonprofits and small cinemas who still keep the fire burning for those who refuse to watch on a postage-stamp screen.  The tributes to Dan and Toby Talbot have been effusive and, as owners of New Yorker films, the New Yorker Theater and LPC, Dan and Toby earned their spots in the film pantheon by being market makers for the foreign and independent film circuit. Columbia University houses his papers and this blog makes for more good reading if you are interested.  So while Hollywood kicks Harvey Weinstein to the curb, let us hold the Talbots on high.  Cinematic history will be very kind to their legacy.

Just one week more. Forget any conflicted feelings you may have for the Plaza. Yes, it was worn from years of non-stop cinephilia. Yes, yes, a bit dowdy. Yes again that it harbored an occasional pickpocket or two.  But think back and tell me with a straight face that Lincoln Plaza Cinemas didn't open your world. Delight and dazzle you. And upon occasion blow your mind?  

For me it would be like choosing a favorite child, there have been too many delicious films screened there to single out just one. Though I do have a photographic recollection of the cloud I wafted out on after seeing the 1999 Paul Thomas Anderson film "Magnolia."  Yikes, nearly twenty years ago. One frigid Saturday night, I emerged from the late screening and streamed up Broadway humming Aimee Mann's beautiful soundtrack on my way home.

Five days left to get in there and pay homage.  And I have just the right rec: neighbor Manfred Kirschheimer's "My Coffee with Jewish Friends."  Known as Manny, this Bloomingdale documentarian is getting his due after decades in the business and an impressive body of work.  MoMA gave him a retrospective last year; their copywriter put it better than I can when qualifying Manny:

"[he] weds the aesthetic exuberance of modernist urban chroniclers like Walt Whitman, Joseph Stella, and Charles Mingus to the leftist populism of Studs Terkel and Jane Jacobs. His documentary (and quasi-fictional) films are intricate montages of sound and image that thrum with hard bop or proto-hip-hop energy. They are fanfares and requiems for New York’s immigrant working class and demimonde, its art and artists, buildings and builders, haves and have nots."

"My Coffee with Jewish Friends" is a klatch on film.  And Manny makes you a fly on an old-time Upper West Side kitchen wall.  The film is playing every day though Thursday at LPC.

And if after "Coffee" you're jonesing for more Manny, visit the Metrograph.  Just this past Friday, Manny spoke there at the opening of the run of his 2006 film "Tall: The American Skyscraper and Louis Sullivan." "Tall" is also around through Thursday.

Above I mentioned cinema models that could work in the era of smartphones and boom-boom rents: well there is one right there. Perhaps a bit precious on the concessions front, the Metrograph has a calendar that is part old Cinema Village, part Quad and part Film Forum. It's quirky and satisfying programming; and though it's a world away from the Upper West Side, it's well worth a visit--if only to say loud and proud that NYC can and should sustain such art houses.

So vaya con dios, dear Plaza. Fare thee well, Daniel Talbot. Best wishes to the entire LPC family for your next chapter. And to the filmmaking son of Bloomingdale Manfred and our Queen of UWS film Toby, much mazel.

The Metrograph gives me hope.  The good things that the plate tectonics of NYC real estate subduct to the molten mantle do come round again.  Hopefully, we'll know the real ones when we see them and not just follow the next shiny thing.

I am looking at you, Mr. Milstein.

If you are reading this post in an email, you have to click through to see the video below.

By Caitlin Hawke

Neighbors, I know you are out there braving the bracing chill.  How can I be sure? You keep me posted with excellent shots.  Thanks to our own Hedy Campbell for the expertly composed MTA oracle below and to David Ochoa for the autosculptures.  It's all to be seen in the neighborhood.

This dog knows how to bask in winter in case you've forgotten (do yourself a favor on click on this link).

And if you really hate it all, take comfort, despair not: the mercury rises to 50 degrees next week.

Happy sledding, pups.

By Caitlin Hawke

As an antidote to recent posts that I titled "Empty Storefronts and the Changing Streetscape," which you can read here and here, here now is a feature that celebrates those Mom & Pop businesses, whether old or new, that are in the trenches making it work in Bloomingdale.  Like this week's little juiceteria, a business needs to maximize the output of its square footage to make a dent in the monthly commercial rent. And this is one explanation for all the food and alcohol that's being purveyed around town.  Volume is another must.  That makes Mom & Pop gun shy to say the least. It's hostile terrain for them.

coming out of the ovens and what's in the planning for upcoming feast days and holidays of all denominations.  Just like she was your next-door neighbor.  Because she is.  She is a Bloomingdaler of longstanding.  And now she's the owner of one of the oldest Mom & Pop purveyors around, though many still think of her as the new kid on the block.  But she's endured.  And that's not nothing!

In one of the earliest posts in the "Hyper-Local Eats" blog feature, Judith Norell's Silver Moon Bakery was a first stop.  You can read that old post here, an ode to her ginger blueberry muffin.

Since I have long admired Judith as an entrepreneur, a businesswoman, a second-careerist, a neighborhood champion and an emblem of the Mom & Pop potential to rebound on our avenues, I wanted to feature her again.  

SMB anchors the charming, unchanged historic building, that is captured over the years in these shots below. Judith was able to open SMB because her then landlord, Georgia Stamoulis, became her partner.  To this day, Georgia remains Judith's partner, but Georgia's brother, Michael Rose (who owns Broadway Cellar) is the current SMB landlord. To Georgia and Michael, we owe a word of thanks for keeping this vibrant bakery right where it belongs, bespoke for their special, low-lying corner of Broadway.

So, in 2018, my wish for us all?  Honor thy Mom & Pop.

If we let down our guard, they'll pave paradise and put up a parking lot (under a modern luxe condo).


Q&A with Judith Norell, proprietor of Silver Moon Bakery

Caitlin: Where does the name come from?
Judith: My original thought was to call it Silent Moon Bakery after a Zen poem about the Buddha who, like the moon in the sky, silently illuminates everything.

Caitlin: Artisanal bread baking is a second and illustrious career for you after your work as a professional harpsichordist that I read about here, here and here.  How long did you think you'd be in the baking game when you started SMB?
Judith: I never calculated.  My choices have usually been approached as “an adventure” -- I do it with my full heart, but, like an adventure, it may succeed and may not.

Caitlin: How has business evolved for you as your reputation has been more and more burnished over the years?
Judith: I don’t really know how to answer that question. We opened, and still are, an artisanal neighborhood bakery, and in spite of any publicity we have received, we rely on our immediate neighbors to keep us open. Personally, being an Upper West Sider for many years, I am familiar and comfortable with the political and social attitude in our neighborhood.  This means – at least in my experience – open criticism when things are not perfect, complaints about “high prices” (although in 17 years, our prices have increased much less than most other food items have. Check out our local supermarkets and compare their prices with those of 15 years ago). I personally have not profited financially from our increased reputation, but have tried to benefit our employees whenever things got a bit better.

Caitlin: What is important to you in business as part of your life view?  
Judith: To try to create a harmonious work atmosphere, and to realize that the most genius person can't do it alone, but relies on everyone working with him or her to be successful. People spend at least a third of their day at work, and it should be as pleasurable or at least benign as possible.  I speak from experience; during my apprenticeship in a bakery, the owner didn't know how to talk to those working for him; he was not a mean man, but like many of his generation, started as an apprentice, which meant abuse by his boss, and that he passed on to others when he had power.  He would never praise, only denigrate or criticize; the first time he did this to me, I was sure I would be fired, but, no, it was just his way. If he didn't say anything, you knew it was great.  He also talked down to many of the immigrants from other societies who worked for him, many of them former teachers, doctors, etc., with more education than he had.  So when I started SMB I vowed that it would be different, no fighting, no shouting or screaming.  (We've had a few incidents but they basically resolved peacefully.)  

Caitlin: What is the main challenge you face as a small business on Broadway?
Judith: Rent, rent, rent.
There is absolutely no protection for businesses from the whims of a landlord regarding commercial property.  In our case, when Silver Moon opened, our neighborhood between W. 96th and W. 110 Streets was a neglected area.  Below 96th Street were many co-ops, and fancier stores.  Above 110th Street was Columbia University and all its potential customers.  Our neighborhood was the black sheep, drug-infested side streets, etc.  Now that has all changed, and the landlords are often doubling the rent. Academy Florist, in the neighborhood for over 100 years, had to move because rent was doubled.  Bank Street Bookstore took over.  Henry’s swallowed an enormous rent increase.

Caitlin: So what is the key to SMB’s sustainability?
Judith: I have always believed in “mom & pop” shops, i.e., small, personal stores where the customers are known and catered to.  Too many business in our society care only about the bottom line.  I started Silver Moon Bakery because I love to bake, and also love to communicate with people.  Our counter staff, our bakers, almost everyone knows our customers, many by name, many by their favorite items, coffees, teas or sweets.  I think that, plus my passion for searching out new products, rather than just being another business, is the main key to our sustainability.  In fact, SMB is my culinary playground.

Caitlin: We are living a period of ever-widening economic disparity. Much has been made of this topic in the context of housing in New York.  And one hears more and more about the loss of Mom & Pop businesses.  You are one of the most successful examples -- and I think of you as a relative newcomer (despite that you've already been here for 17 years!) who seems to have the key to Mom & Pop success. Is that true?
Judith: No! See your question about main challenges.  There are many people who would love to live and work in their own community, even here, on the UWS.  But rents are prohibitively high.  Look at the many vacant stores on Broadway – the landlords are waiting for a bank or a chain drugstore who can afford to amortize by having many branches, little labor or production costs, and a high profit margin.

Caitlin: Could you give readers an insight into how commercial rents work in this city?
Judith: There is no limit to what can be charged on commercial property.  At one period, there was a form of commercial rent control, which expired in 1963. An article in the Fordham University Urban Law Journal discusses this:

Caitlin: Do you have any protection from lease to lease?
Judith: No, there is no protection.

Caitlin: How long is a typical lease?
Judith: It can be anywhere from 8 to 15 years.  Ours was originally 10 years, with a 5 year extension. The current lease is for 7 years.

Caitlin: If your rent were to double from one lease to the next, what would your next move be?
Judith: I don’t know. We cannot afford higher rent, since our profit margin is quite low and the two ways to reduce costs are not acceptable:  I will not reduce the quality of our ingredients, or the pay scale of our employees.  We would probably look for another space, but the cost of moving our ovens and equipment might be so high, it would be unrealistic to move.  In that case, we would have to close.

Caitlin: In addition to being a business owner, you are a longtime neighborhood resident.  What do you think about the climate on Broadway?
Judith: It’s terrible.  Chains typically charge more and pay employees less than neighborhood stores. Compare Suba’s prices with Duane Reade’s -- and Mr. Suba’s employees know their customers. The quality of neighborhood life decreases, becomes more impersonal.  Empty storefronts are depressing and destroy neighborhoods.  

Caitlin: Are there still commercial deals to be had on Amsterdam or above 96th Street?  
Judith: I have noticed the new dining corridor, and hope the small restaurants succeed. So I think Amsterdam Avenue will attract diners, but I don’t think residents west of Amsterdam will readily go there to shop.  When I first looked for a place to have a bakery, the manager of the old Gourmet Garage at 96th and Broadway told me: “people will not travel more than a few blocks at most to shop. But to dine is another matter.”  I never forgot that.

Caitlin: What is your understanding of the term gentrification?  Was Silver Moon’s appearance the product of gentrification?  Will gentrification be the demise of businesses like Silver Moon?
Judith: When I moved to 105th Street and West End Avenue, the neighborhood was considered dangerous -- not West End, but the side streets. I actually took a few self-defense lessons before moving in, and learned to walk in the middle of the road when coming home at night.  At that time I shopped at a used childrens’ clothing store on Broadway, bought sashimi from the little Japanese grocery shop on 105th off Broadway, drank café con leche at the Latino restaurant on Broadway & 108th Street [La Rosita], got my videos and dvds from Gary’s Movie Place, and my vegetables from the Korean greengrocer between 105th and 106th Street.  All were small, neighborhood places.  What became SMB was Loretta’s Lingerie, which had red flocked carpeting in the windows.  I moved in because I was a musician, the rents were low and the walls were thick enough so that my practicing wouldn’t disturb others.  Most of the musicians in my building who became successful moved out to more “gentrified” neighborhoods.  

Now, with many old buildings co-oped by the landlords and newer buildings being offered as condominiums, median income has shot up as new tenants came in.  Even rentals are now called, “luxury rental residences” in some cases.  This is my understanding of gentrification – more money flowing into the neighborhood, the quality of life changing, goods becoming more expensive. The mix of working class, artists and middle class which existed when I first moved here, has totally changed.  The druggy side street tenement apartments are now being rented to young, professional couples, and what was once a multi-cultural mix of Latino, Black and Caucasian has disappeared.

Caitlin: What would you like to be doing in five years?
Judith: I would like to travel more, explore the world -- and visit bakers and learn their ways of baking! Listen to music, hike, be with my grandchildren, meditate more and relax.

Caitlin: In 10 years?
Judith: The same!

To join the SMB mailing list, send Judith an email and she'll add you: info@silvermoonbakery.com. 

Remember: December is "Spread the Blove" month.  If you enjoy these blog posts, won't you share this with a nearby friend, family member or neighbor? It's a great way to stay in touch between newsletters of the W. 102nd & 103rd Streets Block Association. So tip off a neighbor who can then receive local news directly to his or her email by just filling in an email address at the bottom of each post.

Love the Blog?  Spread the Blove!


By Caitlin Hawke

Building on the prior post about the loss of Mom & Pop and the vagaries of vacancies, this post is about one specific closure.  Covered by the West Side Rag last month, the shuttering of Joon's Westside Fish Market was felt like a body blow around here. Joon's stood on the southwest corner of W. 98th Street and Amsterdam Avenue until November 6th. But it had been in lease turmoil for months, with no certainty of retaining its space (and indeed a kosher Japanese restaurant is moving right in).

The WSR story caught the eye of filmmaker Christopher Ming Ryan. Chris co-owns Wheelhouse Communications. In his spare time he makes films for himself.  This closing, he thought, should be documented.  And so, for Joon's farewell, Chris grabbed his equipment and headed over. The result is a gem of a short film "Disappearing NYC: Joon's Last Day" that I first saw in the Rag (again, thanks Avi).  It exposes a sad story about less than level dealing, but it also holds the mirror up for each of us to look into since we -- with our new-fangled habits -- probably precipitated the loss.

I reached out to Chris, and he agreed to be interviewed.  It turns out that Chris is a born and bred Bloomingdaler.  Though he moved away as a grown-up, his parents continued to live on Broadway around W. 98th Street, and this kept him connected to his childhood streets. He gave me permission to repost his film below and kindly agreed to answer some questions (for the interview, keep scrolling down).  His four-minute documentary is a parable for our changing times.  And more than anything it captures the personal toll that a closure can exact on faithful, hardworking employees.

[Remember: If you are reading this as an email subscriber, you'll need to click on the blog post title above or click here to see the videos below.  It's worth your click!]

 
There's a lot more to say about this and a lot more we're going to have to do together as neighbors and voters to ensure we're living in a community that values neighborhood and is a fair dealer when it comes to small business.  We've done it before thanks in part to efforts of Block Association members.

For inspiration on this front, I caught up with Chris.

Q&A with Christopher Ming Ryan

Caitlin Hawke: Chris, you made a beautiful short film documenting the closing of Joon's, the Mom & Pop fish store at W. 98th Street on Amsterdam Avenue.  Did you have any personal connection to that store?
Christopher Ming Ryan: Thank you for the remarks. No personal connection. I grew up on W. 98th and Broadway so this particular part of the Upper West Side is home to me.

Caitlin: I understand your film about the last day at Joon is part of a bigger project. Can you say more?
Chris: I can't get into the details of the proect too much because we are just beginning. I have spent some time in Greenwich Village documenting the scene on Bleecker Street. Generally, if I hear of a Mom & Pop that is being forced to close, I'll go down and investigate with camera in hand. I've been a producer/director of marketing and communications videos since the mid-90's. About six years ago, my company Wheelhouse Communications invested in film equipment, and I hated to see the cameras and lights in my storage closet sitting there idle when I didn't have paying jobs. I started making short films with collaborators that I hired in professional jobs, and I began editing the films because I didn't want to pay anyone to do it. I keep returning to the theme of celebrating "old school" ways of doing things. You can see some of my past work here.

Caitlin: I noticed your film's title "Disappearing NYC." Do you have any connection to the great Jeremiah Moss, aka Griffin Hansbury, author of the blog and book Vanishing New York?
Chris: I have corresponded with Jeremiah Moss, and I'm well aware of his work. I just finished his book, Vanishing New York, which is terrific and puts hyper-gentrification into a context. His advocacy is so important and he has motivated lots of people like me to gather, protest, and do outreach about the issue of saving Mom & Pop stores.  In 2015, when Moss was getting a lot of press for the #SaveNYC campaign, I first reached out to him and created this PSA for the Small Business Survival Act. The last image should have probably been Katz's Deli but, hey, I'm an Upper West Sider!  I'd love to collaborate with him.

Caitlin: In a poignant way, your film makes a compelling case to shop locally.  The store manager Polo's loss of his job at Joon is deeply felt by the viewer. And we are connected immediately to the people who give life to small businesses.  What do you think shopping locally in this neighborhood (or others in the city) will look like in 5 years?  In 10 years? 
Chris: I don't want to speculate. As Jeremiah Moss says, people created this problem -- people can fix it. Thinking that this is just evolution or the ways of capitalism is the wrong way to think. Advocacy can do a lot. We should celebrate small victories like the new rollback of the Commercial Rent Tax. Small incremental changes like restoring the original look of the Hotel Belleclaire on Broadway and West 77th Street on the surface looks like a grain of sand when it comes to change. But, more grains will turn into piles, and soon we'll have a castle.

Caitlin: We've had cyclical outcries to protect small business owners by instituting policy changes.  But I am unclear about whether there's any progress except the recent rollback of the Commercial Rent Tax. What is your understanding of the issues and what could be done to reverse the tide such as move toward commercial rent control, vacancy taxes, etc.?  I know Manhattan Borough President Gale Brewer is a big proponent of small retailers and trying to protect them.
Chris: I recently attended a town hall with President Brewer, State Senator Brad Hoylman, Jeremiah Moss and Tim Wu. There were not a lot of answers. There was a lot of looking at the ceiling, shaking of heads, and blaming the whole thing on Albany and the Real Estate Board of New York (REBNY). Borough President Brewer has her heart in the right place, but it seems to me she has been resting on the laurels of her work in the City Council when she introduced and succeeded in putting in zoning laws on the UWS. The Small Business Survival Act which she helped write up as a Council staffer has been languishing for over 30 years. I don't know if it's ever been put up for a vote. I found this article in Our Town that shows that MBP Brewer wants to focus on smaller steps.  I'd like any steps at this point.
 
Caitlin: I understand you grew up in the neighborhood and that your parents lived here until they passed away.  What was life like here during your childhood and how did it change over time and for your folks who remained here?  Do you recognize the old streets? 
Chris: I grew up on W. 98th Street in the 1960's and 70's. Our neighbors were artists, musicians, social workers, and teachers, and I don't remember one lawyer, doctor or Wall Streeter. We spent a lot of time in Riverside Park, the public library on W. 100th Street between Amsterdam and Columbus, and in movie theaters (matinees were 75¢).  But let's not kid ourselves. There wasn't a lot of diversity. In our building, the only person of color was my mother who was Chinese. Everyone was Caucasian. I'm sure the landlord forbid people of color to rent in the building. The big change happened in the mid 80's when they tore down the Riviera and the Rivoli at 96th and Broadway and put up the Columbia apartment building.

Caitlin: Do you have a lot of ghosts when you look at new storefronts but see old "friends"?
Chris: No ghosts really. I miss the cobble stones on West End Avenue. I miss old people who were all dressed up on the Broadway malls. I miss the movie theaters. The neighborhood has kept its character, but its soul is gone mainly because it's not a place for the middle class anymore. One thing I get a huge amount of nachas from is that my kids love the taste of Sal's pizza.
 
Caitlin: What were your favorite shops growing up? 
Chris: Well, speaking of Sal's....Every Friday night we would have Sal's. Saturday night we would go to various haunts: Hanratty's (Honey-dipped fried chicken, Carol King on the Jukebox and Mucha posters on the wall), Eastern Garden (those green steps transported you to a timeless place), Harbin Inn (great spareribs), Willouby's (which was this old bar my Dad liked that Dock's took it over and now there is pricey vegetarian place). We often went to The Library for the comfort food and the warm pumpernickel bread on the table. Sometimes we ventured to 79th street to Tony's Italian Kitchen. Growing up, I loved Berman Twins where in the basement they sold model kits of planes and rockets. We shopped at Morris Brothers on W. 98th to get our Mighty Mac coats in winter and our names sewn into our undershirts and underwear for camp in summer. I miss the Chinese laundry on the corner of W. 99th and Broadway that would wrap your items in brown paper and string. They would ring you up on an abacus. Cake Masters was a daily addiction for my mom. I miss the simple Saturday night entertainment which for me at 10 p.m. was getting the Sunday Times on W. 96th street and devouring the Arts & Leisure section. You start with the counting of  Hirschfeld's "Ninas" and then study the movie ads, then the articles.

Caitlin: Yes. Wow, I think your reminiscences are going to touch a lot of people. Did you ever go to the Metro theater? I find that old landmark to be a painful example of a changing streetscape, as it sits empty, right in the shadow of Ariel West and Ariel East whose newer storefronts are also often empty. Overall those towers left gaping holes in Bloomingdale's Broadway commerce over the last decade.
Chris: The Metro had many incarnations. I remember seeing The Towering Inferno there in the '70s. Then, they chopped the place up into a few screens and later on they returned it to its original glory and played art films. In the '80's, I saw The Cook, the Thief, His Wife and Her Lover there with my girlfriend (our second movie together) who became my wife.
 
Caitlin: Thank you for looking back with me. It's always a pleasure to meet a neighbor of longstanding.  Let's end by looking forward.  What is your New Year's wish for New York City?
Chris: Shop less on Amazon. Shop more on Broadway.