Posts Tagged ‘queens’
chilly depths
– photo by Mitch Waxman
One of my little hobbies involves the recording of manhole covers, the large iron discs which act as a removable hatch for access tunnels to the stygian world of infrastructure that underlies the streets of New York City. Often, the cover will betray the age of the street, indicate the company or municipal organ that installed it, and provide some subtext to the relict building stock adjoins them.
This post isn’t about manholes, however, it’s about a beautiful bit of street art recently observed in the Dutch Kills neighborhood nearby the legend choked Queens Plaza.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
This bit of graffiti surpasses the normal tags and scrawled affirmations common to the so called art form, due to its masterful draftsmanship and painterly quality. My own background in commercial illustration makes me a bit of snob when it comes to drawing, and this more than passes my rigid and stoic standards.
Owing allegiance more to Arisman than to Bode, this is no “cheech wizard smoking a doobie”.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Check out the wonderful contour line drawing in the elephant, and the gorgeous use of highlight and tone in the face. Nice, nice work. Whoever the artist(s) is, they have a wonderful touch. This sort of thing is normally the province of Ms. Heather at NY-Shitty, as Newtown Pentacle seldom focuses on street art, and perhaps she might be able to identify the artist.
Normally, presentation of graffitis is only engendered when it is enigmatic or curious, suggests the hidden occult, or is a blatant example of time and opportunity available at a transportation center.
Project Firebox 25
– photo by Mitch Waxman
24th Street and 42nd Road in Long Island City, in addition to being a geographic palindrome, hosts this centuried sentinel of the realm. It’s crown is long lost, and core functionality is suspect, yet its columnar presence still affirms the presence of redoubtable guardianship and an omnipresent vigilance. It has been too long since the watchtowers of Long Island City have graced these postings, and so we celebrate a seasonal return to Project Firebox.
forgotten hands
– photo by Mitch Waxman
On another one of the long marches across the concrete desolations of Western Queens, it occurred to me that I should pay more attention to the steel fingers of the Great Machine than has been formerly applied. This is a problematic notion, of course, as we live in the age of terror- and taking pictures of transportation infrastructure is largely frowned upon by governmental institutions such as the NYPD for understandable and prosaic reasons.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Part of my outlandish sense of entitlement, imagined largesse, and pompous self importance demands that I do not allow such entities to inhibit my activities.
I’m happy to be questioned by the gendarme whenever they might approach me with queries as to identity and purpose. Law demands that a citizen must carry some form of identification, otherwise the police may detain you with the intention of assessing your identity (for a limited period of time), which is something I always comply with. No such law allows law enforcement to demand that you show them what you’re shooting (they need a warrant for this kind of search), explain why you’re shooting it (that’s what you tell a judge), or to delete images from your camera- or so I am told by those versed in the finer points of law.
If you are in a place which is “in public”, you can feel free to do whatever you want with your camera, within certain limitations (defined around the commercial use of likenesses and editorial implications implied thereof). If on private property, however, the owner or its representatives can ask you to vacate the locale and you must comply with their wishes or be charged with trespassing (however these private entities are similarly restricted in not forcing you to display, delete, or otherwise explain yourself to them).
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Of course, this is an ideal presentation of encounters between photographers and those who wish that the only cameras which existed were those monitoring the citizenry for criminal transgression and evidentiary collection.
Often, one will experience an encounter with a rookie cop, unusually aggressive private security guard, or criminal who does not hold to this liberal interpretation of constitutionally guaranteed free speech. Refer to the recent controversies surrounding the Occupy Wall Street protests, and the widely rebuffed handling of mainstream press photographers by the NYPD for an example of how things can go wildly wrong in the real world.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Once, whilst capturing an image of the charming St. Irene’s Church here in Astoria, an angry chorus of Greek women took it upon themselves to brand me a terrorist and chased me for several blocks- all the while hurling Hellenic invective. Many of them curled their hands into balls and stuck their thumbs out between middle and ring fingers, and one of them called me “A Bin Laden”.
That’s when I turned around and confronted the group asking “Wouldn’t a Terrorist have a car?”.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Regardless of risk and the malign attentions of both private and public security, your humble narrator is nevertheless highly motivated to capture and record the magnificent transportation infrastructure which forms the fingers of the Great Machine. I’m sure that they won’t let me take the DSLR into central booking with me, but as I’ve never been accused of anything but driving too fast on the Taconic Parkway and Pennsylvania Turnpike by law enforcement, it sure will be interesting standing in front of a judge.
And by the way, Happy Festivus.
flopping animals
– photo by Mitch Waxman
On the day of the New York City Marathon, which I was unable to photograph this year due to a variety of personal reasons, an effort was made to find some time to walk through the largely deserted Queens Plaza and get some shots of the place on the one day of the year it isn’t teeming with vehicular traffic. This got me thinking about Queens, and some of the people I’ve met walking along the streets here.
Showing up, I believe, is a substantial part of life. Attendance counts.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
A few folks over at another blog have decided to ride me down for the announcement of the Blissville Oil Spill the other day. A fairly typical case of “killing the messenger”, the best name I’ve been called – so far- is “Pompous Coward”. That’s up there with a name granted me by a coworker many years ago when I worked at Ogilvy Interactive – “Feckless Quisling”.
Seriously, here’s the link, these are actually kind of funny.
I would also point out that it has always been Newtown Pentacle policy to discourage people from eating whatever animals they might find along Newtown Creek or at Chernobyl.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
What kind of struck me though, was that not a single one of those commenters reacted to the Blissville Spill itself, which brought me back to thinking about the people I’ve met walking around these streets with a camera. What a grand bunch- cops and firemen, politicians and gangsters, city planners and urban explorers, environmentalists and industrialists, moms and dads. The one common thread in all of Queens seems to be that there is no common thread, except for a sure sense that someone else is getting a bigger piece of the pie than you are and that you are honor bound to knock anyone who is demanding attention- even if they are telling you that your house is burning.
That’s kind of a crossroads, ain’t it?
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Allow me, in these closing weeks of 2011, to affirm and refute certain things. First, the various “groups” which I’ve become affiliated with aren’t paying me a dime. I’m receiving no money from government or private sources to produce this blog, and when you may see ads appear at the bottom of a page- that’s WordPress (the Webhost), not me inserting them. Accordingly, I am betrothed to no particular ideology or didactic political world view, and instead operate in the manner of what the Japanese would call a Ronin. I believe it is better to talk than argue, as the latter is something I do only with family members.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Several of my little mottoes rule my actions, and betray my morality. “What would Superman do”, “Do what you say, and say what you do”, “It’s not good, nor bad, it just is”. Also- “Opinions are like assholes, everyone has one”, and “Fish, cut bait, or get out the way” are rather influential in governing my days. I bristle at the accusations others make about my motivations, which betray their own corruption. As a statement of principal, understand that I have no agenda or hidden motive, and that I am what and who I seem to be- someone in love with the oft overlooked and obfuscated story of Queens.
