Archive for the ‘Church’ Category
perceptible resemblance
Thursday
– photo by Mitch Waxman
It was my pal Max’s first time in Pittsburgh, so we took a grandiose walk around a downtown area known as the “Golden Triangle,” after crossing the Monongahela River on the South Tenth Street Bridge. We walked crosstown to the Allegheny River and then over a bridge or two to the North Side. That’s the Fort Duquesne Bridge pictured above.
We wandered about for several hours, and feeling a bit thirsty, decided to go looking for a place to sell us a glass or two of beer.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
After crossing the Allegheny River via another span from the north side, we headed for a tavern rich area called “The Strip District,” and passed by this demolition project. I can officially say that this cold storage warehouse had caught my eye the last time I was in town, so seeing it midway through being torn down was a bit of a surprise. It looked like a Godzilla had taken a bite out of it.
There you go.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
This was a Sunday, when these shots were captured, so no work on the project was taking place. There were lots of people milling about wearing Steeler’s colors. There was a preseason game scheduled for the evening, and there were lots of yellow towels being carried around by fans of the “sports ball” franchise.
As mentioned – Sunday.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Sunday is, I’m told, the day that the Goyem go to a church. Accordingly. the doors of St. Stanislaus Kostka R. C. Church were open and inviting signage sat in the aperture.
Well… like a vampire am I. An open door and an invitation? Yes, please.
This Polish church is locally famous, as the future Pope John Paul 2 once randomly showed up here to lead a service, while he was still holding the rank of Cardinal.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Wow. Beautiful sacred space, this.
We asked: Cardinal Karol Józef Wojtyła was in town, as described by some of the lovely people caring for the church, to receive an award from one of the universities. He was staying at the home of a local business magnate who was of Polish ethnicity, and decided that he wanted to lead a mass service locally before attending the awards ceremony, so St. Stanislaus Kostka was suggested to him by his host as it’s the sister church of the one in Poland which Wojtyła’s ministry was based out of.
The modern church people described the encounter with the future Pope to us, which involved a stretch limo arriving in front of the church unannounced, and a red robed Cardinal suddenly getting out and walking in. There’s a small altar set up to the side of the main pulpit, pictured above, which commemorates the visit and event.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The folks at the Church were really nice and friendly, gave us a few tips on other wonders of the Catholic Church in the area that sounded incredible. I was told that there’s a Reliquary on nearby Troy Hill that contains one of the largest collections of such items in North America.
I told them I’d be back in January, and wanted to talk more. I also want to properly photograph this amazing structure at some point.
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“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.
mock fireplace
It’s National Pumpkin Pie Day, in these United States.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Merry Christmas to all.
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seasonal tiding
It’s National Date Nut Bread Day, in these United States.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Holiday greetings and salutations to all of you lords and ladies who ascribe to the particular sort of iconography pictured above.
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thousand faced
And here we are, Christmas.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
I like a good religious tableau, which is odd, as I believe in nothing. Literally, “nothing.” As in the void, emptiness, and entropy. Call me a nihilist if you will, or a strict materialist – but if I can’t burn it, break it, or prove it empirically – it ain’t. Others cling to their own beliefs, and luckily many are inspired to create art to express these ideations and fantasies. Pictured above, a carved wooden nativity display observed at a church on Manhattan’s Houston Street shortly following a tense discussion with my landlord last year.
I may not believe in anything beyond dissolution (and Superman, of course), but that doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate someone else’s set of ideas made manifest.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Saint Irene’s in Astoria displays the Orthodox splendors for which the Greek church is renowned. As the perennial outsider, I’ve always observed that a primary difference in the graphic stylings of Orthodox and Catholic Churches is in the depiction of the god head itself. The Latins prefer to focus on the final stages of the passion, depicting the Christ during or after the scourging offered by the Romans. Catholic Jesus is moments away from death, covered in wounds, and suffering. The Greeks seem to focus in on Christ in the mold of a “hero” in the classical sense – well muscled, tough and triumphant, a spiritual Spartan.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
St. Patrick’s Old Cathedral in Manhattan, which is one of the most glorious interior spaces to be found anywhere on that accursed island. This shot is actually from their Irish language St. Patrick’s Day mass, which I’m mentioning simply because anyone who grew up Catholic will be able to spot the costuming on their prelates as being seasonably inappropriate. I get in trouble with the religious types all the time when I refer to the pulpit as the stage, the robes as costumes, and ask about what the script calls for.
This betrays me, as it becomes fairly obvious to all that I regard visiting a church in the same manner as I do a theater. Saying that, just because I don’t believe in what you do doesn’t make me right and you wrong, it just means we differ. I’d like to believe that everybody else out there would afford others the same courtesy, but the front pages of newspapers and the interiors of history books indicate that such a belief is a foolish but inherently American sort of idea.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
St. Andrew’s at Printers Square in Lower Manhattan, just behind the courthouse, has a spectacular pieta on display in its dimly lit chapel. This is an example of what I was saying about the “suffering Christ” iconography which seems to be preferred by the Catholic side of the great schism.
I really enjoy photographing churches and ritual spaces, incidentally, and should anyone reading this be in a position to invite me in to one for a couple of hours – I’d love to come by with the tripod and my other gear and record the scene if you can “get me in.”
As always, however, like a Vampire I need to be invited in to do my work.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
So, what do Jews, Mohammadans, Buddhists, Daoists, Agnostics, Atheists, Nihilists, and the Hindus do on Christmas Eve? Short answer involves Chinese food, and bars. There’ll be someplace open to go tilt back a few and play some pool, discuss the issues of the day, and avoid the seasonal holidays.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Merry Christmas, from this, your Newtown Pentacle.
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smartly curled
A visit to Manhattan, in today’s post.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
For reasons that I’d rather not go into, one had several hours to kill recently while immersed in an elevated and overtly emotional state of mind. Wandering around First Avenue and its side streets, between 14th and 23rd street, happenstance carried me to 415 14th street where one may notice that the Church of the Immaculate Conception stands. The address once belonged to a Presbyrterian outfit that called itself “Grace Chapel” but after the construction of Stuyvesant Town and Peter Cooper Village annihilated the Roman Catholic original “Immaculate Conception” across the street, the Catholics purchased the building and moved in. They’ve been here since 1946, I’m told.
from immaculateconception-nyc.org
In 1914, the Metropolitan Life Insurance Company embarked on one of the most successful urban renewal projects in the history of New York City. It created Peter Cooper Village and Stuyvesant Town to address a projected housing shortage among returning World War II veterans. The Met, as it was known in those days, bought up block after block of the area between 14th and 23rd Streets, from First Avenue to Avenue C. Included in the purchases were Immaculate Conception Church, its rectory, convent and school buildings.
The Archdiocese of New York then purchased an Episcopal mission settlement, Grace Chapel, on the south side of 14th Street, East of First Avenue. It was renamed “Immaculate Conception.”
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The Lower East Side, along with Harlem, barely resembles the neighborhood I remember from the 1980’s. This particular corner used to be a good place to die, or at least catch a scorching case of death, and there was a bit of a fortress mentality to the area back “in the day.” Junkies, addicts, and the whole crew of loathsome indigents who called the L line Subway station on 14th “HQ” used to pollute the sidewalks hereabouts. It was odd to see the gates to the church open, and a sign promised that there was a cloister back here, so I scuttled onto the property to take a look.
from wikipedia
A cloister (from Latin claustrum, “enclosure”) is an open space surrounded by covered walks or open galleries, with open arcades on the inner side, running along the walls of buildings and forming a quadrangle or garth. The attachment of a cloister to a cathedral or church, commonly against a warm southern flank, usually indicates that it is (or once was) part of a monastic foundation, “forming a continuous and solid architectural barrier… that effectively separates the world of the monks from that of the serfs and workmen, whose lives and works went on outside and around the cloister.”
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Unfortunately, the so called cloister seems to have converted over to a parking lot, so there wasn’t too much to see. There’s also a parochial school back here, and for some reason – unaccompanied middle aged men with cameras seem to set off alarm bells when the subject of school children comes up so I headed back out to 14th street. I did stop into the chapel, but there were bunches of adherents praying in there and I didn’t want to disturb their reverie or violate their privacy by taking photos.
It’s quite lovely in there, however.
from wikipedia
Stranger danger is the danger to children presented by strangers. The phrase stranger danger is intended to sum up the danger associated with adults whom children do not know. The phrase has found widespread usage and many children will hear it (or similar advice) during their childhood lives. Many books, films and public service announcements have been devoted to helping children remember this advice. The concept has been criticized for ignoring the fact that most child abductions and harm result not from strangers, but rather from someone the child knows.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
On the front of the church, there’s a public fountain. There aren’t many of these 19th century artifacts left in Manhattan – I can think of one in the west village and a couple down near the City Hall/Canal Street area that was once known as the Five Points, but it’s a rare thing to spot them anymore. I’m far more surprised that it survived the urban renewal period of the 40’s and 50’s than our current era of gentrification, actually. It’s more than likely that there used to be a common cup chained to the fountain, not unlike the one displayed in a period photo at ephemeralnewyork in the link below.
from ephemeralnewyork
This 1913 photo shows a boy at a public water fountain in Madison Square Park; he’s drinking from a common cup attached to a chain. Of course, no one today would ever drink from the same cup thousands of strangers also put their lips on. But back then, in pre-germ-awareness times, not everyone realized how unsanitary it was.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
I’m no metallurgist, but to me the fountain seems to be bronze. There’s a basin and two ornamental fishes, the latter were where the water was dispensed into the former. If you think its difficult finding a place to sit down or use a toilet in 21st century Manhattan, you couldn’t imagine how rough it would have been back in the late 19th century.
Back then, this part of the Shining City was a thriving immigrant neighborhood of tenements and small factories that extended to the East River. The other side of the street, where Stuyvesant Town currently squats, was once a slum called “The Gaslight district.” Amenities like this drinking fountain were acts of charity offered to the affected masses by the well off. On the masonry above it is the legend “Ho, everyone that thirsteth.”
from wikipedia
In 1842, one gas storage tank at East 23rd Street and the river was erected, quickly followed by the construction of other gas tanks, and by the late 19th century, the site of the complex had become known as the Gashouse District because of the many tanks that dominated the streetscapes. The tanks, which sometimes leaked, made the area undesirable, as did the Gas House Gang and other predators who operated in the area. With the construction of the FDR Drive, the area began to improve. By the 1930s, all but four tanks were gone and, while shabby, the area was no more blighted than many parts of the city after the years of the Great Depression; crime in the district had been endemic, however. When Alexander S. Williams was promoted to police captain and assigned to the area, he met the gangs’ violence with equal force of his own, putting together a brute squad that beat up gangsters with clubs. He commented: “There is more law at the end of a policeman’s nightstick than in a decision of the Supreme Court.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
At the base of the bronze fountain is a legend offering the birth and death dates for a person named “Fanny Garretson Russell.” I looked around the web for information on this inscription, which you’d think would be well documented due to its presence in Manhattan, but found nothing.
“OK” thought I, and utilizing some of my “find the hidden history of Queens” skills, I got to work-
Fanny was the grand daughter of Charles Handy Russell, of Providence Rhode Island. Russell’s father was a Major in the continental army during the American Revolution, and the family history goes all the way back to the Mayflower on one side and the founding of Woburn, Massachusetts in 1640 on the other.
Charles Handy Russell came to New York in the 1820’s, rising to a position of financial and political prominence. Russell was a railroad man, the President of the Bank of Commerce, dabbled in maritime insurance, was part of the original board of directors in charge of Central Park, and a husband to Caroline Howland. The couple had children: Charles Howland Russell – who was the Private Secretary of the United States Secretary of State during the administration of President Hayes, and Samuel Howland Russell were amongst them.
Samuel, a mining engineer who graduated from Columbia University, married Elizabeth Watts Garretson in June of 1884. Their first daughter was named Fanny, who died on the 23rd of August in 1894. This fountain’s dedication is to her.
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