I recently read Paul Auster’s, “Moon Palace.” Moon Palace is probably the first Chinese restaurant I dined at in my life. An early fixture from my neighborhood growing up, I believe that it closed in the early 80’s. And when an old friend from the hood brought to my attention that it’s title was directly related to this place I’ve seldom thought about, I began to think and realized the importance it has served as a beacon to the NY of my childhood that has dramatically changed.
“Moon Palace,” is the first Auster book that I’ve read. And as I began to read this novel and did a little research on the author, I learned that Auster is known for using his intimate knowledge of NYC as a backdrop for many of his stories. Auster is not a NY native. He was raised in NJ but attended Columbia University and has pretty much lived here ever since. His story telling is great. It’s entertaining and smart and I will definitely pick up another one of his books. This story reads with the intricate detail mixing fact and fiction to a point that it feels real. However, as a native I found one little crack that annoyed me. A small microscopic detail that is benign to the average reader but for me became the red flag of Auster’s excess. I think only New Yorkers would pick up on it.
In his NY characters description of an intersection he describes it as, “the junction of West Broadway and Verick.” A New Yorker would never use the term junction as it pertains to the merging of two avenues that both run North/South, specially when there is a cross street. This actual cross street would be Leonard street but most would probably use Franklin street as the reference cause one short block north it is the entrance to the Franklyn street Subway stop. Not all New Yorkers would know Leonard Street but they are more likely to know Franklin Street because of the subway. It’s a small slip but also a big one for me only because Auster is known for his realistic characterization of NY. NY is a big city with a profound history and not even the natives know every intimate detail and for me it sparked my doubt that I have to beware that a highly intelligent fiction lays underneath Auster’s very real and truthful depiction of Moon Palace, a place of NY past.
I wish that I could find a picture of Moon Palace. I wish that I could find more pictures of the NY I experienced in the 70’s. 3 decades back into the film days. Here is another beacon for me of those days past.
This is the Marlin Bar. It was located on Broadway between 110th St. and 111th St. on the west side of the Avenue. It closed in 1995. The actual bar was moved to a local spot 1020, on 110th and Amsterdam. The shot above I took sometime in 1991. I miss it.
I took this shot because it’s Neon sign and exterior was always a reminder of a NY before I was born. And when I look at it I forget about the year I took it. It looks as though it was shot in the fifties probably about the time it was opened. For me it’s a reminder of a NY that that is slowly eroding away and soon to be only a memory.
What I love most about this photo is its timelessness. It’s hard to date. It makes me think and as I get older I think about my grandparents and how when they were about 10 years old the automobile started to become an invention for the adverage person. I think about my father and how he was a kid when color television was intoduced.
Often I lay in bed and just listen to the world in motion out side my window and apartment. I listen intently imagining my ears traveling to the vastitude of the city’s limits.
This is what I hear.
- The tolling bells of the St. John the Divine
- The chirps of the birds
- The hooos of a morning doves
- The call of the peacocks
- The crows of crows
- The bark of dogs
- The whistle of a trains
- The roar from an Airplanes
- The chop of a Helicopters
- The engines of trucks that execrate and the boom they make going over a steal construction plate
- The sirens of the police cars and ambulances
- The hiss of a leaf blower and the scrape of a snow shovel
- The groan of the oil trucks refueling the furnaces
- The growl of the garbage trucks devouring the rubbish
- The gusts of wind
- The patter of raindrops
- The crack of thunder
- The neighbor’s front door that squeaks and slams
- The neighbor’s running water in their bathroom
- The hum and whirl of the elevator engine
- The hiss and clank of the building heaters
- The chatter of men at work and the scratch and beep of the their walky-talkies
- The beep of the intercom and the buzz from the door for visitors to enter
- The “hallelujah” from a man on broadway
- The babble of people that walk by and through the building court yard.
- The “I love you” a woman who calls up to her mother every time she leaves the building
Today this guy was attacked on my block, by three youths in their attempt to rob him of his cell phone. They didn’t succeed. I have the feeling that NY might see a raise in the crime rate as the U.S. continues to plunder into an economic depression.
I just read an article in the March 10th addition of Newsweek Magazine about the late William F. Buckley Jr. I have to be honest and say I did not really know much about this man except that he was the editor and chief and owner/publisher of the National Review and a staunch conservative. In fact at one point in my adolescent life, I thought of him as the embodiment of evil personified as wealthy no neck elitist. Ahhh…. how wrong I was to think that I was so different in my ways of thinking to this man’s. Only in my ignorance. As I read through this article I could not help but kind of admire him. In fact, congruous to mine, this article mentioned many thoughts and positions Buckley promoted in it’s thesis that claims him to be one of if not the key architect of the modern American conservative agenda. Buckley’s route ideals to be that of individualism and a pluralist freedom over the liberal collectivism and it’s dogma that is used to promote discontentment and water down American constitutional freedoms. A battle that I can not avoid as I negotiate the liberal streets of NYC. And I think it’s too bad that I did not pay closer attention to this man’s point of view for armament. Now not without my true form of incredulity, do I think that Buckley was impervious to fault of ignorance and manipulations or that his point of view and influence was too used promote agendas in direct conflict to his own. His life as been that of privilege and fortune however, well spent.
R.I.P. William F. Buckley Jr.
Was recently watching a DVD of “Wild Style.” A movie that I saw on the screen in the Times Square district in 1983 when it was first released. This movie is a document to the true original “Old Skool” hip hop scene.
Listening to the commentary by Fab Five Freddy, a producer and actor in the film, he mention an old saying about Alphabet city in the 80’s
On Avenue A, your A.O.K.
On Avenue B, be careful.
On Avenue C, your crazy.
On Avenue D, your Dead!
This is far from true these days, even though one should always keep aware in the hood. The Alphabet has changed and people don’t refer to it as so. It’s now just referred to as the east village.
This time at my mother’s, in the Poconos I woke up no later than 8 AM. The day after my arrival we had a premature snow storm delivering about a foot of snow. The following days it melted quickly as the temperatures rose quickly producing a tranquil fog. I took this shot in my pajamas. If got dressed I thought conditions would change and I would miss my shot.
These are the foot prints of a young bobcat that came to visit my mothers garden. We were very fortunate to experience such a sighting. As I stood up in thought of retrieving my camera, our friends sagacity caught my movement through the windows of the glass room causing him to quickly recede into cover.
The sign reads, “TRAIL CLOSED due to big game hunting season.”
The schedule for hunting season varies according to the type of game you are allowed to hunt. This day was one of the three days of the season you are allowed to hunt bear. I think that this sign serves more as a warning to would be hikers rather than a restriction. However, one should always be cautious trekking in the woods alone. Last year in PA there were 46 total reported hunting accidents. 44 were non fatal which leaves 2. Wow, not very many. Of the two fatalities one was self inflicted and the other by someone else. However, there are many things in life that we engage in that are dangerous but in the woods hunters or no hunters, wildlife can be dangerous too.
As a proponent of our second amendment right which I believe was written under the idea that the United States was created from a pluralist ideal, The term “militia,” and “people” clearly refers to the plural form of “a free and individual citizen.” At the time written, there clearly was no debate about it’s interpretation. And as advanced and modern a society we think we are, let’s not be so silly to think that they had no imagination of the possible advancement of the firearm. Now if you try and claim that the term “arms” in it’s definition, does not include an assortment of personal weapons from a dagger to an assault riffle. I hope that you will suffer a life of enslavement because you clearly do not want to except the responsibility that comes with individual freedom. As you have the right to remain silent, you have the right to decline gun ownership. However, being that you resign to exercise your right does not mean that I should have to give up mine. This is why it’s an inalienable right. You see above, I do not have a gun. But more importantly you should see that I am being responsible for my own safety.
Although I do not own a gun because of the laws created by the useful idiots that make up the majority of New York City. A city that probably has stricter gun laws than Soviet Russia, I still was able to hunt and this is what I shot.
Isn’t our country beautiful?
Click here for photo montage
As I walk along the river’s side. The sun begins to set for the days early departure. My imagination wanders as a cool breeze stimulates a sagacious feeling in me that I know that I am alive. I am but a pilgrim alone that can do little, but to try and share the scope of my appreciation for this experience of the things around me. And if my only mark upon this world is the idea that I’ve carried the message. I have succeeded. I do not know who creates these sculptures but I feel as though we share the same autonomy.
click here for movie
Title: The Lesson
Duration: 00:05:25
This was my first semester film from my first year in film school at S.V.A. I shot this in the fall of 1991 with a Bolex 16-mm movie camera with 300 ft. of B&W reversal film and an Arri lighting kit in Mammoth Billiards on 26th street NYC. The pool shark is played by my father and the kid was my classmate Neil Collogan. I had just recently got a telecine transfer and had not viewed it in about 14 years since I had lost a VHS tape that was of poor quality to begin with. Also I put it to the track “What is Soul” by Funkidelic. It is the same track that I played from a CD as I presented it to my class.
The titles and credits I recently added. I cleaned up a couple of the edits but left most of it untouched to preserve the RAW film school quality. Working with reversal, one has to remember that it’s the only print that you have that is being spliced up. And all is cut with a hand operated reel to reel and a plug in viewer to light up and magnify the film so you can see it. Avids and nonlinear digital off line editing were only available in the state of the art professional arena.
In classic DK style I did not get a grade for it cause I refused to follow the assignment and cut it in 10 edits which did have the coverage for. My money, my cut is the way I thought. I was allowed to present it to the class and although I did not get the grade the professor shook his head and said, “wow great story!”
Often when I talk to people from other places they often think that being in close proximity to celebrities is cool. They also think that it is some how beneficial to have that kind of access, specially if your goals are related to their industry. What people forget is that celebrities are people. And wether they became “celebs” due to talent or luck, they are just like you and me. Now I know what I’m writing is old wisdom. I understand… You get it. What I think most over looked is that what the world looks like to a celebrity. It’s a hostle place. Everyone wants something from them. From the people they work with to their fans.
Now the picture above I took last night. I attended a jam the Milk studios has every now and then. I was invited to this one. Andy Summers from the Police was there to jam. I didn’t speak to him. And I wouldn’t know what to say to him either. The only interaction that I had was that he looked at me when I was playing the bongos. He’s musician and as all musicians he has to try to connect with those he plays with. That was the extent of my relation to this rock star. And there is no more to expect.
This summer I’ve met other celebrities in which I’ve shaken their hands. I won’t say who cause I didn’t connect with them like most all the others so it doesn’t matter. Being around people like that I find uncomfortable. You have many feelings. You sometimes feel that you know them. But you don’t. You want them to like you. But they won’t remember you. You want them to connect with you cause you feel that you connect with them. The whole thing kind of sucks. But what’s important to remember is that it sucks for them too.
This evening I went to the Studio Museum in Harlem Located on 125th street btwn Adam Clayton Powell and Lenox ave. It is a very nice museum and the art is good. They had an exhibition of the photos of James Van Der Zee. There was a photo of a Harlem pool hall that I would love to acquire a print of. It takes you back to that time of the Harlem Renaissance. Many of the photos visualized the thoughts I imagined as I was making my way through the streets of Harlem to get to this Museum. However, I must admit that I think that a lot of my thoughts of this vintage aesthetic was also do to the fact that I had just finished watching the original 1932,“Scarface” movie directed by Howard Hawks before I set out for the Museum. I think everyone should see this movie that has only seen the 1983 remake.
At the Museum I was introduced to DJ Spooky (that subliminal kid). He gave me this CD. He said that he had just been in Venice for the Bi-Annual, which included a piece of his work. He also told me that he is working on a film in which people can re-edit and manipulate… I really would like to see this when he is done. Funny thing is that I had actually met him just before he became a start DJ. It was in a record shop on the bowery btwn Bond and Great Jones. I’m not sure how we started talking but I remember that we started to talk about Zakir Hussein. He was and still is very nice and courteous. I’m listening to this CD as I write this but I must admit it is kind of schizophrenic.