Archive for December 2022
virtual monopoly
Friday
– photo by Mitch Waxman
This is the last post featuring NYC. Monday, as in next year, starts a new chapter at this – your Newtown Pentacle. I hope you’ll stay with me as I begin to explore and discover an entirely different part of this great country. Happy New Year!
“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.
assorted hands
Thursday
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Continuing with 2022’s “best of’s” in todays post:
May started off with a visit to Philadelphia’s Schuykill River and downtown area. Back home in Queens, Dutch Kills and its collapsing bulkhead received one of what would end up being weekly inspections by me in “ugly trifles.” One did his fair share of riding the NYC Ferry, as in “ivied antique.” Long Island City’s Newtown Creek coastlines became a particular point of focus, as in “torture of.” I made it a point of collecting sunset shots around Newtown Creek all year, as in “nimbus over.”
A growing sense of outrage at the despicable management of our commonly held municipal assets, given the high price which the citizenry pays for these basic services to support the political intrigues of City Hall and Albany, began to manifest in a less than subtle way right around the time which “weary journey” appeared in your inbox.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
June of 2022 started off with a tugboat encounter on Newtown Creek in “peradventure may,” continued on with another visit to Hells Gate in “whisper leeringly,” checked in on that collapsing bulkhead along Newtown Creek’s Dutch Kills tributary in Long Island City in “crystal coldness,” visited industrial Maspeth in “rest without,” gave the Pulaski Bridge a portrait session in “ever been,” kept on working the sunset angle in “seemed older,” and rode the Rockaway Ferry in “emotional need.” I tried to photograph a lunar eclipse in “hidden pneumatics,” and Sunnyside Yards was visited in “fiendish subjects.”
All year, I kept on trying to push myself to not just get a good photo, but to try and get a category defining photo. This meant moving around with all of my gear on my back. This was a real pain, but unlike “normal” conditions, I couldn’t just come back in the future. There would be no ‘next time.’
– photo by Mitch Waxman
July of 2022, things got started with an LIC post that visited Dutch Kills and then took a ride on the 7 line in “cacodaemonical ghastliness.” An artist friend of mine turned me on to a spot along Jackson Avenue in LIC’s Court Square in “frequent fumbling,” I went to a carnival in Astoria Park at Hells Gate in “fumbling in,” visited Staten Island’s Fresh Kills in “torn to,” and in “retinue of” I went hunting for a 7 train/Queensboro Bridge sunset shot.
In “stifling age,” it was revealed that I had visited Pittsburgh again, and that this particular journey also included a visit to Wheeling, West Virginia in “assented without.” I applied a bit of discipline on myself, and did a researched Pittsburgh history post in “boldly away.”
– photo by Mitch Waxman
August rolled into town, and that’s when I decided to show you what the July 4th fireworks shows – the Macy’s one in “thing therein,” and the Astoria Park one in “wrinkles formed,” looked like. A rental car allowed me to range pretty freely for a few days, first in “nervous overstrain” at Newtown Creek, then to College Point in “breathing sleep,” and even out to Nassau County in “desolate pitch.”
My last dragon to slay, as I’ve been calling the collapsing bulkhead at 29th street along Dutch Kills, received a bit of political focus in “scintillant semicircle.” I got caught out in a violent thunderstorm along Dutch Kills in “palsied denials,” justified trespass in “so inquisitive,” and got a few nice Tugboat shots for “breathing things.”
– photo by Mitch Waxman
September found me trying to do and experience everything all at once one last time. For most of 2022, I was able to maintain a decent “lead time” on these posts, and some of them were scheduled as far ahead as a month in advance of publication. This is the way I like it, incidentally, and was a personal achievement. A particularly photogenic evening was encountered at Sunnyside Yards in “significance of,” a colorful sunset captured at Dutch Kills in “harrow up,” “ten beings” found me at an abandoned power plant in Yonkers, I visited the World Trade Center observation deck in “equally silent,” Hudson Yards in “nightmare spawning,” and I was back in Pittsburgh with “churchyard teachings” and several other posts at the end of the month.
October saw the Pittsburgh posts continue, as with “politely holding,” but we were soon back at Newtown Creek with “subdued sort.” I attended a performance at the Maspeth Avenue Plank Road in “falling on,” wandered around Queens in “insistent pleas,” walked over the Kosciuszcko Bridge in “times amidst,” and my pal Carter Craft gave me a boat ride down Newtown Creek starting in “devilish anxiety.”
– photo by Mitch Waxman
November and December are a bit of a blur for me. Posts like “unearthly immanence” or “brood capriciously” don’t say too much, but I’m fond of the photos. I spent a lot of time by myself, when I had some time, in posts like “unguessed companion” or “amorphous blight.” In “noxious heap” and “disreputably nourished,” there’s a certain melancholy reeling in around the edges.
Then my new car arrived and the entire moving away project kicked into overdrive. I quit Community Board 1, Access Queens, and Newtown CAG. I started tooling about – Flushing, College Point, all over. Newtown Creek Alliance gave me the “reveal award” at the annual gala. My pals on the John J Harvey Fireboat conducted a public facing tour on Newtown Creek for me, as described in “humming music,” and then I was back in Pittsburgh with Our Lady of the Pentacle in “crystal stream” and other posts. Every time might be is the last time became the mantra, and posts like “severed aspiration,” “tradewinds sweep,” and “treasure house” were expressions of that.
Whew!
“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.
molasses sloops
Wednesday
– photo by Mitch Waxman
2022 started off here at Newtown Pentacle with a particularly long early morning walk from the Brooklyn Navy Yard to Greenpoint’s Newtown Creek coast line. The encampments under the Brooklyn Queens Expressway discussed in “he shuns” were eliminated by a combination of Police and Sanitation Department action about a month after this post, when the Mayor and the Bicycle People both decided that there should be a bike lane on Meeker Avenue and “fuck the homeless.” Swagger!
The walk continued from the Navy Yard, and then I had arrived at Newtown Creek’s “Penny Bridge” Meeker Avenue street end. My increasingly disillusioned POV – regarding the City of Greater New York – was discussed in “he seeks” which saw the start of a certain thematic statement which would carry through the entire year.
Nothing matters, and nobody cares.
Regardless of this growing ennui, I still had my duties to perform on Newtown Creek – which as in the case of “he flees” – involved introducing a Grad student to the Creek.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
My growing interest in Pittsburgh caused me to travel out and explore the place again, and write about what I was seeing, as in the post “dawning love” from the end of January. By this point, Our Lady of the Pentacle and I knew we wanted to move somewhere else, but hadn’t made the decision as to where yet.
In February, I was scuttling around Queens and Long Island City at night again. “fantastic figment” visited Sunnyside Yards, which like the Dutch Kills tributary of Newtown Creek, was always on my shot list when leaving HQ.
“puerile kind” paid a nocturnal visit to Hells Gate on a foggy night in Astoria. “amorphous amenity” found me wandering back towards home on the Greenpoint Avenue Bridge over Newtown Creek. “limitless limitations” discusses the time I met an Opossum while scuttling my way over towards the Kosciuszcko Bridge.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Throughout the pandemic months and as it ended up – years, one maintained a personal discipline of walking the camera around every other day. One day “in” and one day “out.” My strategy to avoid the various disease vectors involved moving around at night, and visiting industrial hellscapes where nobody in their right minds would find themselves. “bodily emanations” is a fairly typical post for this period of time. So is “stony plateau,” but that one was shot in Astoria instead of Industrial Maspeth.
You want social distancing? Pfah. Welcome to Newtown Creek at night, asshole.
“psychopathic institution” details what I saw in Brooklyn’s Greenpoint section after receiving word that a barge had sunk in Newtown Creek. “perilous disposition” is one of dozens of posts which focused in on the Dutch Kills tributary of Newtown Creek in Long Island City. Another Dutch Kills post, “harmless stupidity,” emanates from the time that I decided to shoot the place at sunrise, on what would turn out to be the second coldest day of 2022 in NYC.
Frostbite in six of ten fingers and three of the toes was the consequence of that decision.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
A humble narrator was really on a roll during this interval, photography wise, if I do say so myself.
The decision to leave NYC had been agreed upon by Our Lady of the Pentacle and myself in early March, which informed the rest of the year for me. We had a plan. At that point it became a logistics problem, and logistics are one of my specialities.
Now that there was a theoretical end to my endless scuttling about in LIC, one decided that what I really needed to do was to create one last catalog of photos of my little empire of dirt. Efforts were redoubled, and one began to push his comfort levels and boundaries.
“Every time might be the last time” joined with “Nothing matters and nobody cares” as the governing mantras.
“hellish hours” detailed one of my frequent visits to Sunnyside Yards, “somnolent stillness” went to Flushing, “laminar dissection” is from Industrial Maspeth, and the less viewed sections of Dutch Kills were recorded in “plumbed descent.”
– photo by Mitch Waxman
My last dragon to slay, as I described a collapsing Dutch Kills bulkhead along LIC’s 29th street to Our Lady of the Pentacle, began to catch my eye in “yellow rays.” Throughout the year, I never missed a chance to ride the 7 train, as I did in “all observant.”
The 7 is, far and away, the most photogenic of all of NYC’s subway lines.
April began with another dark sky visit to Hells Gate in “uncertain outlines,” I took a walk over the Queensboro Bridge in “perfumed jungles,” got some nice shots of the Kosciuszcko Bridge in “whirling fancy,” and in “assignable colour,” “sentiently over,” and for “more hexagonal” I took a night time walk over the section of the Triborough Bridge which I had some responsibility for in my community board Chair of Transportation committee role.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
“those obeisances” was when I revealed the horrible truth about all of those ‘not in service’ MTA buses that shuttle about at night – from Cemetery to Cemetery – all across the Newtown Pentacle.
“secrets stood” paid a visit to Queens Plaza at night, where vampires lurk in the steel rafters of the elevated subway tracks.
More “2022’s best of,” here at Newtown Pentacle tomorrow.
“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.
cryptical marginalia
Tuesday
– photo by Mitch Waxman
During my waning hours in Astoria in the last week of November, time to pursue any activity, other than facilitating the move to Pittsburgh, just ran out. There was so much to do.
I’d find myself waving the camera about occasionally, but a deadline was approaching, one which once reached would find me driving Our Lady of the Pentacle and a car load of “essentials” out to Western Pennsylvania on November 30th, so we could take possession of our new space on December 1st.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
By the 24th and 25th of November, we had packed up all of our dinner plates as well as the pots and pans. That meant that if we wanted to eat, we had to either do so while eating out of take away containers while sitting on foldable camping chairs amongst the boxes, or head out for a restaurant meal. “Comfort” was a thing of the past at this point.
Me? I was just hoping that NYC didn’t find a way to kill me before this plan finished playing out. NYC is a malefic motherfucker, has an active intelligence, and she offers a cruel sense of humor. Thereby, every step taken and street crossing attempted involved a great deal of care.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Convenience, and the easy availability of alcoholic beverages and cheeseburgers, made my favorite little Astoria bar – Doyle’s Corner, found at the Times Square of Astoria at 42nd and Broadway – the obvious choice for dinner and drinks.
It was chilly, and rainy, that last week – but despite all that we did the outdoor dining thing with NYC’s sense of ironic consequence in mind. In the weeks since we’ve relocated to Pittsburgh, news has filtered back to us of friends (many of whom still mask, and are super careful) who have regardless been swept up in the latest wave of COVID infection. Apparently, we got out just in time.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Right about this time is when the Innovation Queens project began rattling forward towards its inevitable approval. This last true neighborhood in Queens is about to be decimated by the Real Estate people. I’m not going to be returning to NYC for a long, long time. That’s my plan, at least. I think that when and if I return in a couple of years, Astoria will look like Williamsburg or Long Island City.
Where I’m living now in the suburbs of Pittsburgh, which is where this post is being written, is a place where it’s dark and quiet at night. That’s a half hour away from the titular center of one of the great American cities.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
No longer do I have thousands of vehicles a day passing under my windows while drivers angrily steady honk their horns. I haven’t witnessed drunks having a knife fight under my bedroom window, yet, either. There have been no observances of fart cars.
Early explorations of the Pittsburgh metropolitan area have shown me that there’s lots of “wrong” nearby, I should mention. Dire poverty, hopelessness, addiction – all that is here. So’s post industrial environmental degradation. Thing is – the volume is turned down considerably.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
So ended the Queens part of my life. I’ve got a Brooklyn part, and a Manhattan part too. Goodbye. The cover is closed on this installment of the story, and I’m now living in Mr. Rogers’ Neighborhood.
You’re going to be seeing a few “best of 2022” posts over the next few days, and Pittsburgh oriented posts will be beginning in the new year.
“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.
worthy gentleman
Monday
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Wednesday the 23rd of November, but there was going to be no Turkey served at HQ in Astoria the following day. Our Lady of the Pentacle and myself had arrived at “prime time” in terms of our big plan to escape New York. After packing up boxes all day, and fine tuning the next stages of the effort, a humble narrator decided to head out onto the porch with the camera and capture the milieu one last time after pronouncing himself “done for the day.”
The shot above is a bit of an experiment. I set the camera up to do a time lapse, cracking out a two second exposure every five seconds. Normal procedure for this sort of thing is to marry all the individual photos up as frames in a video file. Instead, I decided to combine 81 individual shots into one photo stacked image. Clicking on it will take you to Flickr, where a higher resolution file awaits that you can zoom in on.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
I’d always been hesitant to say exactly which corner in Astoria I lived on, always referring to it as “Broadway in the 40’s.” Now that I’m safely ensconced on the side of a mountain of coal in Pennsylvania… it was 44th street and Broadway, right over Gino’s Pizza. For a dozen years, this was the view from HQ – the second floor perch where I took my calls and wrote a lot of what you’ve read here at Newtown Pentacle.
Here’s a panorama. The large brick building, which I’m positive will be sold, demolished, and replaced by a mirror glass rhombus shaped condominium within the next few years, is the Chian Federation. The building was originally built by the Long Island City Turn Verein, a German fraternal club that is where a lot of its intriguing iconography comes from. These days, there’s a church which operates out of the place on Sundays, but when I first moved into this particular apartment, the Chians would set up a boxing ring inside the big room and amateur tournaments would be held there, exhibiting local pugilists.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
I’ve known four distinct owners of that Bodega pictured above, which has been a frequent photographic subject for me on cold and rainy nights over the years. The 44th street apartment’s porch had a wooden pergola structure on it, which provided me with cover during rain events to set up a tripod and zoom in from a dry place. That porch, I tell’s ya, was a lifeline during COVID. Outdoor space, that’s what we had.
This shot is also a photo stacked usage of a time lapse sequence.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
My next door neighbor was an older woman with a terrible spinal condition that forces her to live life bent over at the waist, so she’s always looking straight down at her feet. This neighbor occupies three floors of a building on Broadway all by herself, along with an unguessable number of cats. We never had much interaction with her, except for hearing her cry and wail every morning from the other side of the bathroom wall. One of the other walls we shared with her was always “wet” and bulged inwards. “Why” is a question which I’ll never have – nor do I want – an answer to.
This shot looks westwards at the backyards behind the shops on Broadway in Astoria, past the Mexican whore house which pretends to be a bar and towards an Albanian Mafia bar. The lit up orange structure is the smokehouse of the Muncan delicatessen, and both my dearly departed doggie Zuzu and I would station ourselves in the path of the prevailing breeze whenever Muncan opened the flue on that thing. The bacon wind was blowing.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Social animal that I am, a point was always made of at least meeting the neighbors. One of the mistakes you can make in NYC is “cocooning” and locking yourself away in the apartment after work. You have to talk to people, and let them talk to you, if you want a community. You really, really want to know at least some of your neighbors.
I’ll miss the crew along Broadway. Sean the Carpenter, John the Junkie, Charlie from the Limo place, Jose Bagels, Crazy Johnnie and his brother AntKnee, the Burrachos, Leo the Pizza guy, the lot of them.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
One last stacked image of the Bodega. It’s actually from a bit earlier in the evening, obviously. So, the question is: Will I miss all this?
The answer is, actually, “no.” I’ve had my fill, it’s someone else’s turn to experience this place and these things.
“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 