Archive for April 2020
snorting choke
Concretized.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The head of Dutch Kills, the sole surviving tributary of the fabulous Newtown Creek in Long Island City, hosts a concrete company called NYCON. This is pretty busy operation under normal circumstances and difficult to get photos of do to the hustle and bustle. Also, I generally avoid photographing the concrete guys, for certain reasons, including that they don’t seem to like being photographed – not one little bit. The nice thing about the Corona Virus quarantine, therefore, is that they don’t seem to have been rated as “essential” and my recent constitutional walk in LIC offered an opportunity to record a few of their industrial splendors.
This is from 47th Avenue and 27th street, if you’re curious.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Quite a few people have asked me if I’m worried or scared or whatever when I’m out at night, and in particular during the Quarantine. A few have chided me for being out at all, but the reality of my life is that I’m under Doctor’s orders to keep moving. Without exercise, it won’t be long before my arterial system narrows and plugs, and then I’ll find myself having to spend time in a hospital during an epidemic. Not only do I never, ever, want to experience the cardiac ward of a hospital again – given the current circumstances I could easily find myself in one of the FEMA or USACE wards being set up around the City. I’d be lying if I don’t say I was a bit paranoid on the deserted streets, but paranoid is good during times of trouble and tumult. Stay frosty.
I am not going to find myself sleeping in a hospital bed at the Javitz Center if I can help it. Have you been to the Javitz Center?
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Whatever the risks, one must continue to turn the earth under his feet. I’m used to being lonely out here in the Creeklands. At night, in particular, there are so few humans about that it’s arguably one of the safest places to be when a deadly virus is being passed about. There’s also so much to see, and photograph. For a couple of hours, one is able to forget about the apocalyptic situation we are all suffering through. Get away from the news feeds and the constant dirge of nightmarish import.
I NEED that in addition to the exercise. It’s literally all I’ve got right now.
Note: I’m writing this and several of the posts you’re going to see for the next week at the start of the week of Monday, March 23rd. My plan is to continue doing my solo photo walks around LIC and the Newtown Creek in the dead of night as long as that’s feasible. If you continue to see regular updates as we move into April and beyond, that means everything is kosher as far as health and well being. If the blog stops updating, it means that things have gone badly for a humble narrator.
“follow” me on Twitter- @newtownpentacle
Buy a book!
“In the Shadows at Newtown Creek,” an 88 page softcover 8.5×11 magazine format photo book by Mitch Waxman, is now on sale at blurb.com for $30.
only acquiesce
Scuttle, scuttle, scuttle.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
One keeps on finding himself at the Dutch Kills Tributary of Newtown Creek, here in Long Island City, for some bizarre reason. Partially, it’s the lack of people one might encounter along the way. On the other hand, it’s a familiar place to me and therefore comforting. Pictured is the Hunters Point Avenue Bridge.
Dutch Kills, as the United States Army Corps of Engineers so rendered it in the early 20th century, averages about 150 feet of space between its bulkheads. It’s spanned by several bridges, and this particular single bascule drawbridge – which it’s owners at the NYC Dept. of Transportation will tell you – is the Hunters Point Avenue Bridge. Replacing an earlier wooden drawbridge powered by a donkey walking on a wheel, the modern HPA Bridge was originally erected in 1910 as a double bascule drawbridge with electric motors. The masonry, bridge house, and basic structure of the thing are original to that effort but in the 1980’s a retrofit of the bridge eliminated the double bascule mechanism with a simpler to maintain single bascule one.
What’s a bascule, you ask?
That’s the section of a draw bridge’s roadway which tilts upwards to allow egress to a passing vessel. See? You learned something in Quarantine.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
What is a man? What has he got? Frank Sinatra asked that.
When is a road not a road, and a city street is not technically a street? When it’s 29th street between Hunters Point and 47th avenues in Long Island City. There are several roads and streets around here which are on the NYC map, host NYC street names and signs, and you can get mail delivered to structures which use those designations as addresses, but they aren’t actually city streets. Railroad access roads, they are called, and are the actual property of the MTA/Long Island Railroad. 29th street is one of them. If you know what to look for, beyond tracks rising up out of the asphalt, these streets are easy to spot. Long gentle curves between the corners, rather than straight as an arrow, and if the distance between the corners is curiously long… you’ve found a good candidate for “railroad access road.” You have to check the official record, of course, but 29th street alongside Dutch Kills is definitively part of this classification.
Back in the early 20th century, there used to be a “terminal railway” setup in these parts which provided “last mile” service to the factories and warehouses of “America’s Workshop” as LIC was known. This “Degnon Terminal railway” split off from the Lower Montauk tracks along Newtown Creek via the Montauk Cutoff.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
A couple of blocks from Dutch Kills is the former Waldes Koh-I-Noor four building complex, which used to be able to accommodate a train set running between its various buildings. Waldes were manufacturers of milliners supplies – pins and needles, buttons, snaps. The metal pants zipper was innovated here during the First World War, I’m told. During the Second World War, Waldes ceased production of clothing items and retooled their factory for war production, manufacturing the internal components of artillery shells for both the Army and Navy.
Boy, do I love LIC. I guess this is part of the reason I find myself wandering around here so often. The stories I can tell… and wish I was telling… but somehow I don’t think that I’m going to be leading many walking tours this year.
Note: I’m writing this and several of the posts you’re going to see for the next week at the start of the week of Monday, March 23rd. My plan is to continue doing my solo photo walks around LIC and the Newtown Creek in the dead of night as long as that’s feasible. If you continue to see regular updates as we move into April and beyond, that means everything is kosher as far as health and well being. If the blog stops updating, it means that things have gone badly for a humble narrator.
“follow” me on Twitter- @newtownpentacle
Buy a book!
“In the Shadows at Newtown Creek,” an 88 page softcover 8.5×11 magazine format photo book by Mitch Waxman, is now on sale at blurb.com for $30.
The Newtown Pentacle 