FunFactFriday:

Who was Arthur Brisbane?

Monument at 5th Avenue and E. 101st Street

"Arthur Brisbane 1864-1936

American Editor and Patriot 

He spread before all a panorama of the events of his times. He was the champion of work and peace before all mankind. He gave to the people a clear understanding of the history of all the ages. He imparted to millions an appreciation and love of the literature, art and religion which have ennobled the world."

I think these are rather nice things to have said about you, no?  To help others make sense of history, to "ennoble the world" by imparting a love of literature, art and religion.  Good stuff.

Cursory research on Mr. Brisbane revealed he was a 'yellow' journalist, at least early in his career.  One particularly troubling incident suggests an editorial of Mr. Brisbane's may have - in some sense - suggested or encouraged the assassination of President McKinley.  A cautionary tale on the power of words, and our responsibility to speak carefully.

Apparently Mr. Brisbane went on to use his journalistic powers for good - muckraking on behalf of progressive causes to improve working conditions and expose political corruption.

The newspaper business seems to have remained in the family: Mr. Brisbane's grandson, Arthur S. Brisbane, currently serves as the Public Editor of the New York Times.  Interestingly enough, the younger Mr. Brisbane recently received some flak for an article he wrote, regarding fact-checking and truth-telling in journalism.

Some parting quotes, from the elder Brisbane:

"Get away from the crowd when you can. Keep yourself to yourself, if only for a few hours daily." 

"A good friend can tell you what is the matter with you in a minute. He may not seem such a good friend after telling." 

FunFactFriday:
Ye Oldest(?) Synagogue

(ScoutingNY did a blog series last week about the lovely, lovely island of St. John.  Which made me think about my own trip there, last January.  Which reminded me that I never posted this particular set of pictures.  So here you go - one year later - one more look back at the island.)

On our last day in paradise, my friends and I took a boat from St. John back to the main island of St. Thomas.  I had a later return flight than the rest of the group, so I killed a couple hours wandering around Charlotte Amalie before heading to the airport.

The main drag of the town is lined with high-end jewelry and souvenier stores. Neither is really my scene, so I visited the local synagogue, because... well, because of course I did.  

Here's a fun fact for you:  What is the oldest synagogue in America?  According to Wikipedia, that's a difficult designation to define.  Oldest congregation or oldest physical building?  Oldest that's been consistently used as a synagogue, or oldest that was at some point converted for other purposes?

Apparently there are quite a few synagogues vying for title of "oldest," but the synagogue on St. Thomas claims to be "the oldest in continuous use under the American flag."  How about that!

Still, that designation seems a little wonky to me, because St. Thomas wasn't acquired by the US until 1917, so technically this synagogue has only been under the American flag for the last 95 years.  But titles aside, it is quite old: the congregation was originally founded in 1796 (when the island was under the control of Denmark) and was housed in two buildings, each subsequently destroyed by fire.  The current building was erected in 1833 and has been holding weekly services ever since.

Check this out - the synagogue has sand floors!  At first I thought this was just an island-y touch, but apparently there is deeper symbolism.  Per their website:

"The sand on the floor is a remnant of the days of the Marranos, Jews during the Spanish Inquisition who were forced to convert to Christianity but who secretly continued to practice their Judaism. Since practicing Judaism was punishable by death, they met in cellars with sand covering the floor in order to muffle the sounds of their prayers."

Wikipedia suggests a second theory: the sand represents the Israelites' journey through the desert.

I visited just as the head rabbi was showing another group of tourists the Torah collection housed in the synagogue.

Several of the scrolls are very old and historic.  I just tried to find more information about them online, and instead stumbled upon this Travel/Bar Mitzvah site.  Did you know that, in addition to destination weddings, people also have destination Bar/Bat Mitzvahs?  Apparently they do.  File that in your fact folder.

Aha - here is an article about one of the Torah scrolls that St. Thomas has in their collection - dating to 1771, the scroll was used by Jews in Czechoslovakia, before being stolen by the Nazis, before being rescued by a group in London, before somehow ending up in the possession of a couple from New York, before being donated to the St. Thomas synagogue.  What a journey!

Looking up: chandelier and ceiling relief.

The St. Thomas synagogue is beautiful, if a study in contrasts.  The well-maintained mahogany fixtures and refined architectural elements seem in contrast with an unfinished sand floor.  And the troubled past that the sand floor recalls - as well as the sad history represented by that rescued Torah scroll - seems in contrast with the idyllic, sunny paradise that waits just outside the door.

It's a mish-mash of joy and pain, of loveliness and hardship.  A testament to perseverance.  And a nice place to visit, if you want to sit in the shade for a bit and think about how all that is a lot like life itself.

FunFactFriday:
Lucky For Me

 

I work on the 14th floor of an office building that does not have a 13th floor.  And, well, you know what that means...

I am living a lie.

Whenever I enter the elevator and push the button for "14," I think - "Who are we fooling?" and "How silly!"

But I guess for some people - those who suffer from triskaidekaphobia (superstitious fear of the number 13) - it is not so silly.

These triskaidekaphobia-ites apparently have a lot of pull with building contractors.  I read an article that stated "as many as 85 percent of high rises in the world don't have a 13th floor," based on an audit of buildings with Otis-brand elevators.  I'm not sure if that's entirely accurate (boys and girls, you shouldn't believe everything you read on the Internet), but I do know that certain numbers do invoke superstitions the whole world over.

For instance, the number 4 is an especially unlucky number in China (apparently in Mandarin, it sounds an awful lot like the word for 'death'). Chinese hospital buildings routinely omit 4th floors.  Thirteen is still unlucky in China, too; after all, it's numbers (1+3) add up to that very scary 4.

If numbers can add up to death, so too can they add up to life.  In Jewish numerology, eighteen is a lucky number because the Hebrew word for life (chai, as in "l'chaim!") is spelled with two letters whose numeral values add to eighteen.  (cheit = 8; yod = 10)

If you want to know a little more about Jewish numerology (and who doesn't?), it so happens that thirteen doesn't make for such a bad number therein.  In fact, some nice words add up to thirteen (like ahava, the Hebrew word for love, and echad, the word for one (as in "God is one")).  Children become adults at thirteen (the age of bar/bat mitzvahs), and God is said to have Thirteen Attributes of Mercy.

So it's not all bad then, is it?

I'll leave you now with a quote from the great businessman, Michael Scott: "I'm not superstitious...but I'm a little stitious."


Item of note: The Empire State Building has an accurately numbered 13th floor.  Whaddya know.

Fun Fact Friday: Island Hopping

When you think of New York, perhaps some islands come to mind. Two of the city’s boroughs are islands (Manhattan - and Staten - ). The iconic Statue of Liberty sits on an island (aptly named Liberty Island) which is near another famous island – named after its former owner, one Mr. Samuel Ellis. If you’re into crime (and who isn’t?) you may be familiar with Riker’s Island. If you like rickety roller-coasters and hot dogs (and who doesn’t?) you probably know of Coney Island.

But have you been to Joan of Arc Island?

I hadn’t, until a recent Sunday morning walk up Riverside Drive took me there. The “island” label is something of a misnomer – this little oasis is an island more in the “traffic median” sense, than an actual piece of land surrounded by water. Nevertheless, it’s worth the climb out of Riverside Park (near 93rd Street) to check it out some time.

In the center of the island is an over-life-size statue of Joan of Arc, riding her horse into battle. A plaque nearby revealed some interesting history – the statue (the first in NYC to depict a non-fictional female) was carved by a female sculptor! A bit unusual for its time, circa 1915, when sculpting wasn’t really a woman’s game. In fact, when the sculptor, Anna Hyatt Huntington, initially submitted the first model of this sculpture to the Paris Salon, the judges there were incredulous that such a work could have been done by a woman on her own.

(This was years before the “We girls can do anything, right Barbie?” ad campaign dispelled myths about women’s capabilities once and for all.)

The sculpture was commissioned to celebrate the 500th anniversary of Joan of Arc’s birth. It’s surrounded by trees, screening out the residences on Riverside Drive and creating a semi-secluded, semi-shady spot that’s lovely for drinking your morning coffee and reflecting upon Joan of Arc’s sacrifice, Anna Hyatt Huntington’s trail-blazing, and/or Barbie’s impeccable day-to-night look.

Whatever floats your boat on this island.

Fun Fact Friday: ESB

The Empire State Building was in the news recently, after the building's management caused a minor uproar among Catholics (and others) when they refused to honor Mother Theresa by lighting up the ESB with blue and white lights on the centennial of her birth later this summer. 

The colored lights at the top of the skyscraper are often used to commemorate holidays, various causes, sports teams, and the occasional celebrity.  But when it came to Mother Theresa, the building's management issued a statement claiming that, aside from a few popular religious holidays (Christmas, Hannukah, and Ramadan), the Empire State Building would not be lit for religious purposes.

Interesting.  Here are some other interesting facts (interesting to me, anyways) about ye olde Empire State Building:

The Empire State Building - 102 stories high - functions as a lightening rod for the surrounding area.  It gets struck by lightening about 100 times per year.

The Chrysler Building became the world’s tallest building in 1930. The Empire State Building was already under construction at the time, and when it was completed the following year, the ESB ended the Chrysler’s brief reign at the top. However, time marches on and the ESB now ranks as only the 9th tallest in the world.

The ESB was the designated romantic rendezvous spot in both “An Affair to Remember” and its progeny, “Sleepless in Seattle.” Now, I am not a romantic-comedy fan, but the last scene in Sleepless, where Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan meet on the observation deck of the ESB, makes me cry every time. Every time. I’m tearing up right now just thinking about it. And I don’t know why!  ("Shall we?" Gasp! Sob!)

The Waldorf-Astoria Hotel, before moving to its current digs on Park Avenue & 50th Street, used to be located on the spot where the ESB now stands.

Both Lassie and Fidel Castro have visited the Observatory of the Empire State Building.  Probably at separate times.

There's a tower at the top of the building that is now used for television broadcasting.  However, when initially constructed, the base of the tower was designed to be a mooring mast for blimps (a hip new mode of transport back in 1931).  This proved unsuccessful and incredibly dangerous, so the idea was quickly abondoned after the first (and only) blimp mooring went badly wrong.

Finally, if you’re looking at the ESB tonight, you will see it lit up with blue & white lights on the north/south sides, and blue & orange lights on the east/west sides. Significance? The Yankees are playing the Mets in the “Subway Series” this weekend.

Happy, happy weekend, y'all.

FunFactFriday
Beauty Walks A Razor's Edge

A boarded-up brownstone on West 76th Street

I took this photo last fall, while on a Sunday morning wander through the 'hood. Public art installations are one of the things I love about NYC, but I had some questions about this painting. Like - who was responsible for it? Squatters living in the building, a passer-by graffiti artist? Or was it a commissioned piece to commemorate a landmark in Bob Dylan's life?

Time to go to Google.

I learned that the painting is the work of reknowned graffiti artist, Jef Aerosol. Rather than free-handing a design, Jef first cuts his image into stencils (between 1-4 layers, depending on the complexity & number of colors) and then transfers the image to a wall using spray paint.

(To see more of his work, go here. For a step-by-step of his process, look here.)

Stencil graffiti finds its roots in a technique called Pochoir (French for stenciling; Aerosol is a Frenchman himself) which originated in Asia, before making its way to France in the 19th century. There it was used to create prints for illustrations in books and fashion journals. The pochoir process had its gilded age during the 1920s – not only in France but in other publishing centers in Europe and the US as well.

Exampes of Art Nouveau / Art Deco pochoir

Stencil graffiti took pochoir to the streets and gained popularity in the early 1980’s with artists such as Blek le Rat, Miss Tic, and Jef Aerosol¹. Aerosol often depicts cultural icons – Charlie Chaplin, Patti Smith, Mick Jagger, Brigitte Bardot, Dylan, and more recently, JayZ – but he also paints anonymous figures, too. Some works are witty, some playful, some seem raw and reflect a surprising amount of emotion.

Says Aerosol of his work, “I have tried with pictures and words to call forth memories, emotions, feelings, joy and sadness to honor those who have fed my life with their music, words, art works, movies, ideas and ideals.”

For the past few decades, Aerosol’s art has appeared on city walls all over the world – Paris, London, Amsterdam, Tokyo, and beyond. He currently has a show of some of his canvas work open here in New York! If you're interested, it's at the Ad Hoc Art gallery in Brooklyn, through Feb. 21st.

¹ As graffiti is kinda illegal, many street artists use an alias.

FunFactFriday
Idiots on Parade

Last year's festivities

The Olympics are now officially two weeks away.

But if you just can't wait that long to cheer for someone as they pursue dreams of glory through feats of athleticism while wearing funny-looking outfits, and you live in the greater New York area, well then - you're in luck. Because tomorrow (1/30/10) is the seventh annual Idiotarod.

I trust you're all familiar with the Iditarod - the Alaskan dog sled race?

The Idiotarod is pretty much the same thing. Except people (not dogs) pull shopping carts (not sleds) through the streets of Brooklyn (not the frozen tundra of Alaska).

The exact race route is left to the discretion of each shopping cart team. They are given the starting point and the finishing line location, and it's up to them to get from Point A to Point B. As quickly as possible. (Without getting arrested or disturbing traffic, preferably.)

As the finish line is a secret, the start location subject to change, and the route not fixed, the event is something of a challenge to observe.

Last year I lucked out: I happened to be meeting SBG for a pierogie lunch in Greenpoint, Brooklyn on Idiotarod day. And just as I was exiting the subway, I saw these three carts (pictured above) race by.

One team was dressed as Romanian gymnasts. I have no idea what the other teams were supposed to be. All looked like they were having fun.

So if you happen to find yourself near Brooklyn tomorrow, keep an ear perked for that familiar rattle of a speeding shopping cart. And be ready to cheer on these fun-loving folks.

In the name of all that is weird, random, and unruly.

FunFactFriday:
Nevermo' fo' Poe?

I read with interest earlier this week that the shadowy figure known as the "Poe toaster" did not show up for his annual appearance at Edgar Allan Poe's gravesite. Each year, for roughly sixty years, this unknown man had visited a Baltimore churchyard on Poe's birthday (Jan. 19th) and deposited three roses and a half-full bottle of cognac on Poe's grave there. But this year, the mystery man failed to show up.

Some people are speculating that the "Poe toaster" perhaps had car trouble, or a nasty case of the flu which caused him to miss this year's salute. Others, though, suspect that the tradition has finally come to an end, and the annual toast will be (to quoth The Raven) "nevermore."

I had previously read a few of Poe's works, but only under duress of middle school teachers, as macabre really isn't my cup of tea. (You know what is my cup of tea? Vienna Cinnamon. Yummers.) Though we share an alma mater, and though I currently live in Poe's old stomping grounds, my knowledge of Poe was pretty limited. I knew more about the strange homage paid to him after his death than I did about the life that preceded it.

And now that the "Poe toaster" annual tradition had (possibly) come to an end, I wondered what was it that had inspired such devotion in the first place? I turned to my trusty friend, The Internet, to find out.

FunFactFriday:
That Stuy Guy

Stuyvesant Square, taken last fall

If you live in the greater New York area, you are no doubt familiar with the name Stuyvesant.

Perhaps you have a friend with a sweet apartment in Stuy Town. (Oh, the closet space!) Maybe you've been warned to stay away from Bed-Stuy (a Brooklyn neighborhood that can be...a little rough around the edges).

Or maybe you once supervised an intern who went to Stuyvesant High School, and who engaged in the following conversation with another of your employees, regarding a busted printer:

Employee: The printer is getting reamed!
Intern: A pun is the lowest form of humor.
Employee: Well, whoever said that is an idiot.
Intern: I think it was Shakespeare.¹ That guy is an idiot. I wrote a
play last year that was better than any of his.
Employee: What was it about?
Intern: Racist circus people.

(Lest you begin to think badly about the caliber of Stuy High students, let me clarify that the school specializes in math & science, not play-writing. And this particular intern was very skilled in other areas, such as writing development code and talking smack.)

But back to my point: the name Stuyvesant shows up all around town, attached to parks and housing developments, neighborhoods and schools.

But where did the name Stuyvesant come from? Until recently, the extent of my knowledge was that Peter Stuyvesant was "some old Dutch guy" and I was content to leave it at that.

Then I heard someone refer to him as "Peg Leg Pete" and I said, "Hold the phone!" If this guy had a peg leg, then I wanted to know more. So I did a little research, and here's what I learned...