Archive for the ‘Photowalks’ Category
distant whine
The ugly half of walking over any East River Bridge – the Manhattan side.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Looking back over my shoulder, in the direction of Queens, on the pedestrian and bicycle lane of mighty Queensboro. As stated in the past, Queensboro was ceremoniously renamed for a former Mayor a few years back, and anytime someone is observed calling this span the Ed Koch bridge it just pisses me off. Accordingly, I’ve proposed renaming the Brooklyn Bridge as the “Michael Bloomberg Bridge.” Sounds outrageous and insulting to history, Brooklyn, and the Roeblings, and indicative of a somewhat crass bit of political excess? Exactly.
You couldn’t get away with it in Brooklyn, but you can in Queens where the borough motto seems to be “Welcome to Queens, now go fuck yourself.”
A long walk from Astoria to Manhattan’s east side – specifically the 20’s along Third – via the Queensboro, was the subject of yesterday’s and indeed today’s post. Today we land in a cautionary tale called Manhattan.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The bridge’s pedestrian lane makes landfall at 2nd avenue and 60th street. For some reason, the DOT has barriers set up at the bottom of the ramp which cause bicyclists to execute a sharp 180 degree turn and carry pedestrians a full block eastwards. One would imagine that most of the human powered traffic is headed west, mind you, and normally I just climb over the barriers but since there was an interval of time before my evening assignation it was decided to just play ball and “go with the flow.”
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Luckily, the path intended is occluded by steel supports for the Roosevelt Island Tram, which forces the itinerant pedestrian to cross over into the bike lane. This is the southern edge of the Upper East Side, incidentally, the so called “silk stocking district” where the masters live. Arguably one of the most monied neighborhoods on the planet, I’ve always found the Upper East Side particularly uninteresting. There’s a lot of interesting buildings found hereabouts, the homes of Roosevelts and Astors and so on, as well as survivor town houses from the late 19th century.
Undoubtedly, when the Second Avenue Subway finally opens in coming decades – the furnaces of the Real Estate Industrial Complex will blaze hereabouts and even the upper classes will begin to experience “gentrification” and be told that “density is good.” That’s when the four and five story townhouses will be torn down, and replaced with glass boxes.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Swinging south at the corner of first avenue, you’ll find a vaulted arch lined with Guastavino tiles. They really knew how to sell a project and “gild the lily” back in 1909, I tell you. I can also tell you that on this walk over Queensboro to the 20’s along Third, the camera was quite busy and well employed until this point.
When examining the range of photos taken along the way, two thirds of the “keepers” were captured in Queens and on the bridge itself. Manhattan has become so visually homogenous and boring in recent years that it is staggeringly difficult to find something interesting to shoot.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Luckily, illegal dumping is everywhere. This bit of “feral furniture” (a term coined by my pal Ms. Heather over at NY Shitty) was a distinct step up from what you find in the concrete devastations of LIC and Greenpoint.
Tomorrow – an exploration of a completely different bridge, and an exclusive set of photos you will not see anywhere else but here – at your Newtown Pentacle.
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peered diligently
Visiting with an old friend, in today’s post.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
“Back in the day,” as it were, a humble narrator used to spend an awful lot of time on the Queensboro Bridge. When the 2009 Centennial Celebrations occurred, I was actually a deputy parade marshall, which the City rewarded me for with a medal. We got to close the bridge’s lower level for a few hours, and there were marching bands and a bevy of elected officials were present – including Michael Bloomberg himself. The very first posts at this – your Newtown Pentacle – discussed the event in some detail.
In recent years, as I’ve become more and more focused on Newtown Creek and its upland properties, my walks across mighty Queensboro have decreased in frequency and a recent realization that I hadn’t actually walked the span in more than a year prompted me to start kicking my feet forward and lurch roughly forward towards Manhattan. Unfortunately, this meant I was heading onto that loathsome island and leaving the intricate geometries of Queens behind for a spell.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
For those of you who haven’t taken one of NYC’s best walks, the pedestrian and bicycle lane of the Queensboro is accessed at Queens Plaza near Crescent Street. It’s not a hard walk in the least, but it does offer some fairly decent “cardio” for half of it. The long sloping ascent from Queens Plaza to the tower set into Roosevelt Island carries you hundreds of feet from the ground, and despite the gradual nature of it – you will find your heart rate increasing steadily.
Bicycles will be whizzing by at fairly high rates of speed, so be mindful of your surroundings if you decide to undertake the stroll. If you bring your camera, you will be glad you did, as the views from up on high are spectacular.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Apparently, the incline is severely felt by bicyclists, as I’ve observed them standing on the pedals and struggling against it several times. Many will dismount and walk their bikes. The “whizzing by” mentioned above occurs once they surmount the paramount of the bridge and the descending incline allows them to gain velocity quickly.
My favorite time of day for Queensboro, visually speaking, is the middle to late afternoon. The light is spectacular during that time of day, and the intricate cantilever gears of the great bridge are evenly illuminated.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Looking north along the East River, you’ll notice a series of steel structures which carry the Roosevelt Island Tram from Manhattan’s 2nd Avenue to the island. The tram is another one of my favorite destinations, incidentally, as it allows for a birds eye perspective on the Queensboro Bridge and the waterway it spans. One of “my walks” involves crossing the bridge, catching the tram, and then perambulating back to Astoria via the Roosevelt Island Bridge which carries pedestrian and vehicular traffic to Queens.
I’ll often stop off and hang out with my pal Judy Berdy at Roosevelt Island Historical Society when exiting the tram – which is located in a historic kiosk nearby the Tram’s landing point. You can’t miss it.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Midpoint on the bridge, one always turns back and considers avoiding going to Manhattan altogether and returning to the poisoned loam of western Queens. In the instance of this particular journey, however, a humble narrator was set to meet up with friends in the City so I kept moving in a westerly direction.
I catch a lot of shade for the contempt with which Manhattan is discussed here. I actually used to live in the City for more than a decade, on Broadway at 100th street. Best move I’ve ever made was listening to Our Lady of the Pentacle when she announced that her desire was to move our HQ to Astoria. Back when I was a Manhattanite, my M.O. was “cocooning” – leaving the apartment only to go back and forth to work. There was no “community” to draw one out, and a vast depersonalization was experienced in the daily round. Whatever there once was that made the City an attractive place to live – night life, for instance – is long gone.
The City is a ruin, exploited and picked over and destroyed by the Real Estate Industrial Complex, and there is little fun to be had there anymore. Brooklyn and Queens are “where it’s at” these days – at least for one such as myself.
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another would
Rain, cold, and darkness in today’s post.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Holiday season is upon us, I fear. Already have I been compelled to reminisce with old friends, commiserate over drinks with acquaintances, and discuss plans with Our Lady of the Pentacle for winter holiday feasts. One has never had too much trouble maintaining long term relationships, as I am too lazy to go out and make new friends. Admissions of my curmudgeon like tendencies notwithstanding, the seasonal holidays seem important to people whom I will admit affection for, so I play the game but it feels as if my brain is wrapped up in cling film during this time of the year and that I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop.
The shoe did drop in Paris last Friday, a reminder of the realities of the “new normal” and that the Terror Wars continue to rage.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
It has long been my contention that the most dangerous collection of people on the planet are the Europeans. America, Russia, and China are the big kids on the block – of course – followed closely by the Japanese. Europe has been tamed for much of the last seventy five years, with their imperial cultures and natural tendency toward conflict and the subjugation of everybody else having been chastised down via the lessons learned during two world wars. Viewing Europe through a historical lens, the modern day residents of Eurasia’s western peninsular enjoy a level of security from conflict, freedom of conscience, and an enviable level of economic stability which their grandparents could only dream of. A lot of this is due to the fact that the United States has a gigantic military footprint in Europe, which has allowed the governments of the EU to spend their money on different things than tanks and fighter jets. The U.S. has always been pragmatic in this regard, as the lack of large standing armies in France and Germany (call them the Normans and the Teutons, or the Gauls and the Visigoths, or the Romans and the… you get the idea) is considered a guarantor that the two ancient enemies won’t throw down unexpectedly and start a Third World War if the United States is standing between them.
The attacks on Paris, I fear, might have roused a great beast from its slumber, and the U.S. can’t do anything about getting this one back in the cage.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The French, in particular, have a lousy military reputation, which is based on the thorough and scientific attempts of the German military to degrade and annihilate them in the early 20th century. The word “decimate” would indicate that the Germans killed one out of every ten French soldiers during the world wars, but it’s actually closer to four out of ten. Two lost generations put France on a path towards a peaceful existence throughout the latter half of the 20th, and the first decade and a half of the 21st centuries.
In the United States, we joke abut the French tanks which can only go in reverse, but that’s a dangerous bit of historical subterfuge which does not acknowledge the history of France. In terms of the last 2,000 years, really right up to 1915, you are talking about the country which possessed the most powerful army in history. If you started a land war with France, you lost – ask the English about that one, or the Spanish, or the Italians. It took the Kaiser’s Wehrmacht to change that, and even then, the French cost the Germans hundreds of thousands of casualties.
Long story short, you don’t screw around with the French, and you especially don’t want to piss them off.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
My fear, this holiday season, is that the European monster has awoken. In the same way that the American season of military restraint was shattered by the attacks of September 11th, the Europeans are likely to assume a more aggressive posture. Remember, the clowns who shot up a night club and concert venue, and who lit off suicide vests in Paris killed civilians who numbered in the hundreds. By European military standard, this is a failure. When Europeans decide to start killing civilians, they set up factories to do so. They use drumroll artillery tactics to suppress and destroy whole cities, employ weapons of mass destruction, and generally give no shits about committing genocide.
2016 is going to be an ugly year, I think, and our world is descending into the sewer. That’s why, despite my antipathy towards teary eyed holiday gatherings, I’ll gladly attend and play along with the season. You never know when it’s the last time you’ll see someone, so rather than crying out “Bah” or “humbug” this year – raise a glass with friends and family I say. Life’s too short.
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sleep filmed
Triskaidekaphobia.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
So, it’s Friday the 13th again, which got me thinking the number 13.
13 is the atomic number for aluminum, incidentally. I see a lot of shredded aluminum along Newtown Creek, but aluminum foil is ubiquitous. Turns out that aluminum is actually the third most abundant element on the earth, after oxygen and silicon. That’s kind of interesting, no?
How about the fact that Aluminum production consumes roughly 5% of the electricity generated in the United States?
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Does the pyrophoric nature of a lot of the aluminum based compounds interest? Pyrophoric means that the metallic compounds spontaneously combust on contact with the air – How cool, and unlucky, is that? Bloof!
I dunno, maybe I’m a little crazy about this Friday the 13th aluminum connection. Gotta go get me a tin foil hat to try and keep Obama and the Freemasons out of my head before they institute Sharia law between my ears.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
In a tarot card deck, XIII is the card of Death. 13 is also kind of a lucky number for the ole U.S. of A.
The United States of America was created from thirteen British colonies. Thirteen stars are found on the Great Seal of the United States and there are thirteen stripes on the American flag as well. The deep connections to Freemasonry on the part of our founding fathers contributes to the “13” motif found in our national heraldry, presumptively. The masons love number games, and 13 is an interesting number in European esoteric traditions like Freemasonry and Rosicrucianism.
Saying that, Apollo 13 did not perform as expected, so it’s not necessarily that lucky a number for Uncle Sam.
Speaking of deep space, Metatron’s Cube is composed of 13 Platonic solids.
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ultimate effect
The nighted Newtown Creek, in today’s post.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
As detailed in several posts this week, one decided to take advantage of the creepy atmospheric effects of the temperature inversion last Thursday – which produced copious mist and fog – and a journey on foot from Astoria to Newtown Creek began at four in the morning. My eventual destination was the historic Maspeth Avenue Plank Road, from whose vantage I planned on capturing a series of “night into day” shots.
The images in today’s post are what I expended the effort for.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Looking into Brooklyn, that’s the Empire Transit Mix company’s bulkheads. They were just getting to work, as it was just about 5:30 in the morning. Industrial types get started early. Twilight would begin at 6:04 so there was little time for me to fool around, and one started clicking away.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Looking eastwards towards Grand Street and Newtown Creek’s intersection with another of its tributaries – English Kills. As a note, these shots are quite a bit brighter than what the human eye could see, but that’s actually what I was “going for.”
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Looking across the Turning Basin of Newtown Creek towards the National Grid Liquified Natural Gas facility found at Greenpoint’s historic border with Bushwick.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
A wide shot of the tuning basin, with the Kosciusko Bridge at right.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Zoomed in on the bridge, that dark hill is Calvary Cemetery and you can just make out the skyline of Long Island City rising behind it in the mists. What might seem like a developing error – the halation present around the bridge and crane – was actually visually present. The fog and mist were being lit up by work lights.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The remnants of the Plank Road itself, which last spanned the Newtown Creek when Ulysses S. Grant was President in 1875. When the whole superfund thing is over, I’m going to market mud and water from the waterway in the same manner as the folks who do the stuff from the Red Sea – claiming the benefits of its preservative qualities.
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