World Travel in New York with Andrew McCarthy

Even if you packed light for the 10th Anniversary New York Times Travel Show at the Jacob Javits Center this weekend you left with baggage – piles of brochures, shopping bags bursting with maps and collectibles from journeys between booths on the convention floor and an imagination packed with hopeful itineraries for future trips to places you may never had considered visiting.


During my four hours at the show I added Turkey, Chile and Morocco to my list of places to visit in the future. In that brief time I sampled teas from Taiwan, experienced the healing (imagined?) properties of amber water from Lithuania, watched a rousing taiko performance from Japan, danced to a merengue band from the Dominican Republic and chatted with fellow travelers who had moved past wanderlust to professional tour guiding in Botswana, Peru and Italy.

Still, the highlight of the day didn’t emerge from the convention floor but from a seminar room on the Lower Level where Andrew McCarthy, actor and award-winning travel writer, delivered a great book talk that centered less on his writing than on the simple, profound joy of solo travel.

He began by describing why he would rather travel than vacation: the “ahhh” of kicking back with a glass of iced tea by a pool is no match for the nurturing, transforming impact of the “aha” moments you experience along the way when the new and unexpected is finding you. Sure it can be lonely, he admitted, but it’s “a loneliness that opens outward” instead of being the kind of “inward and dark” loneliness that can consume one on more familiar territory closer to home.

Andrew McCarthy described reaching his personal breaking point on an especially grueling one-man trip by saying, “Suddenly I felt like myself – I made sense to me.” He followed that trip with many others, bringing his children along on visits to regions of the world that strike fear into the hearts of faithful Marriott Rewards Club members and 7-day cruise fans. Why? “Travel obliterates fear. When you travel with children you’re saying, ‘I trust you world, receive me.’ ”

Sentences like that alerted an audience filled with adventurers to the presence of a kindred spirit. “The further away I traveled, the closer to home in myself I felt,” he said and the crowded seminar room seemed to lean in, en masse, for more.

Attentive travel writers in the room walked away with a gem gleaned from McCarthy’s experiences winning tasty assignments from editors at National Geographic: “Don’t sell me a destination,” his editor has been known to say. “Tell me a story.” For anyone wondering how he captures such lively and spontaneous footage while on the road, he provided an answer: the Canon G12 – unobstusive with a great mic!

For writers bogged down with well-paid but mundane work, his next few projects surely inspired a bit of envy. Forbes will soon be featuring his New York City Discoveries blog and he will be traveling to India to write about Darjeeling and his search for the perfect cup of tea.

Add the New York Times Travel Show to your own travel plans for next year and consider picking up McCarthy’s first book, The Long Way Home: One Man's Quest for the Courage to Settle Down (Free Press, $26 and available on Amazon here: http://www.amazon.com/dp/1451667485)

Sightseeing in NYC: Expect the Unexpected

There is nothing like seeing New York through the eyes of someone discovering it for the first time. As a bonus I learn something new about the city each time I eagerly volunteer to play tour guide in my old hometown. On Sunday, I waited for a friend by the Grand Central Terminal clock, that classic meeting place. She was visiting for the first time. As I waited I plotted a day sure to "wow" her but New York had it own ideas - it was determined to play host in its own special way.

Photo by Werner Kurz

First, the announcement: "There is no train service in or out of Grand Central Terminal due to signal problems" And then laughably, "Sorry for the inconvenience." Oh no! Our perfect day was off to a terrible start! My directions to Grand Central for Sophie, an artist with a preference for the great outdoors rather than the chaos of big cities, hadn't included any details about how to navigate detours into Manhattan.

An hour later there was Sophie, all smiles, her curls bouncing above the crowds of tension filled travelers that were now gathered in the terminal waiting for service to resume. I was awed by her ease and positive spirit in what I'd imagined as a stressful situation but as it turns out New York had taken that unusual twist in the day and shaped it into a welcome adventure. Fellow travelers had invited Sophie to share a cab ride into the city, accompanied her on the subway ride to Grand Central and kept an entertaining conversation about Manhattan going the entire time. Way to make an excellent first impression, New York! I was so proud of my city.

We walked Fifth Avenue chatting, making our first stop the Eloise painting at The Plaza Hotel - fun for us fans of children's literature - then we crossed into Central Park at 59th Street. There came the next surprise - swarms of Red Admiral butterflies, beginning their migration south five weeks early and in the greatest number on record, turning ordinary bushes and bright t-shirts worn by visitors into colorful displays of nature. It was as if the city knew Sophie was a nature girl and was determined to impress. Ten extra points and special mention as "Host with the Most" to our town for that delightful surprise!

Photo by Stig Nygaard

We made our way along Central Park's Literary Walk to Bethesda Terrace, people-watching and pausing to watch a magic show. A Christian band played Grateful Dead-like tunes at The Naumburg Bandshell. The sun brightened an already lively scene at Bethesda Fountain where nearby row boats dotted the lake.

We explored The Rambles, enjoying the bird sanctuary it has become over the past decade and Sophie marveled at the peaceful setting in the middle of Manhattan. We climbed rocks just downhill from the 77th Street exit near The American Museum of Natural History to find the perfect spot for a Central Park South skyline view. Right on cue a friendly Upper West Sider appeared with two beautiful Golden Retrievers. I couldn't have planned the moment any better for my friend who is looking to adopt a Golden. Pleasant conversation and lots of useful information about dogs later, we were on our way to Lincoln Center. Another friendly interaction with a random New Yorker had proven yet again what few out-of-towners believe: New Yorkers are friendly and helpful. The city was just showing off now, I laughed, so happy with my city's successful efforts to be at its best in front of company.

Photo by Stig Nygaard



The short walk from park to cultural icon became a highlight of the day because it offered a peek at the pleasures of ordinary life in the city instead of another look at postcard, movie set Manhattan. I loved seeing the effect the pretty Upper West Side brownstones, with their stoops and curved windows lined with flower pots, had on Sophie. Neighbors stopping to chat or sitting with the Sunday Times and a coffee on a bench were welcome sights that seemed to whisper, "See, it's not all rushing and noise in the city." I didn't need to explain the scene. New York seemed to be doing just fine on its own.

After Lincoln Center we jumped into a banged-up taxi. Here New York decided to inject a bit of adreneline into what had become a soothingly ideal Sunday. From the first moment it was speeding, near misses, lunges, dead stops and screeching breaks all the way to the West Village. We exited onto the quiet charm of West 10th Street grateful to have survived. The city had delivered what almost every visitor expects - the scary cab ride story. Well done, NYC!

Photo by Stig Nygaard

We zig-zagged charming little streets and popped in and out of tiny boutiques to reach Soho where a dashing Italian tourist/model/body-builder chatted us up near Dean & DeLuca. He was so tan, so groomed, so stylized that he seemed almost pretend, as if New York had pulled him out of thin air just for giggles. And we did then headed toward Little Italy.

We enjoyed one of the worst meals with some of the worst service along with some good wine at a perfect table. Our table was positioned right at one of the busiest, most colorful corners of Little Italy. It was like being at a crossroad between best and funniest, craziest and most entertaining. A physical representation of life in the city where everything that is greatest and least desirable about living comes at you in a rush all of the time. I couldn't have crafted a better synopsis of New York if I had tried. Once again, the city was proving it needed no assistance from me to make an impression.

Photo by Stig Nygaard

In Chinatown, Sophie led me past a ragged metal door into a shadowy alley. Beyond it was a maze of buildings beneath a patch of sky criss-crossed by crowded clotheslines. I'd been to Chinatown countless times and had never seen anything like it. Next she walked us into a nearby park to watch traditional Chinese music being performed and tradtional games being played by groups of elderly residents of the neighborhood. It reminded my of another great pleasure of sharing the city with a first-time visitor - the joy of following their curiosity and discovering something unexpected.

Photo by Stig Nygaard

Views from Brooklyn Bridge and sunset along Wall Street and later the East River capped a lovely Sunday during which New York had played the role of tour guide masterfully. Back at the Grand Central Terminal clock, where we said our goodbyes, Sophie offered me the best compliment I could ever hope to receive. "I've seen highlights of New York but today I feel like you've shown me the heart and soul of the city." It was a beautiful statement that flooded me with happy but all the credit belonged to New York. Afterall, it had been the city taking the lead and guiding us from one highlight to another all along.

  Photo by Stig Nygaard

Landmark Process at Risk in NYC

Proposed changes to New York landmark law could alter and potentially damage the process of getting buildings and neighborhoods designated throughout the city. Preservation advocates see the proposed legislation as a "knee-capping" and a "deliberate attack" on efforts to protect the city's architectural heritage from over-development. The following articles carefully detail each of the eleven bills proposed this week, why New York real estate leaders deem them necessary and what it is about each of these bills that might threaten skylines, riverfronts and our most beloved neighborhood buildings:

Eyewitness Coverage from Brownstoner:
http://www.brownstoner.com/blog/2012/05/opening-shots-fired-with-bills-involving-landmarks-law/

The Real Deal:
http://trdny.com/IJWyh4
DNAinfo:
http://www.dnainfo.com/new-york/20120502/new-york-city/proposed-bill-deliberate-attack-on-landmarks-law-opponents-say
Landmarks Process Under Seige:
http://bit.ly/IkAgnV

For further updates go to www.landmarkwest.org and www.HDC.org.






 

Play On: The Naumburg Bandshell

If walls could talk, the Naumburg Bandshell would be New York City’s fiercest chatterbox. It’s been standing between Bethesda Terrace and Central Park’s famed, tree-lined Mall Promenade for almost 80 years, collecting memories while sharing music and words.

Visit the Bandshell early in the morning and you’ll find a brief moment of quiet and stillness.

Nauburg Bandshell Photo from Peterjr196's photostream

During the rest of the day, you’ll find actors rehearsing lines, couples posing for wedding photos, shy folks performing dreamy American Idol numbers for empty benches and, of course, every style of music. You might even find an Upper West Side old-timer recalling the bygone era when the Bandshell attracted wayward teenagers from all over the city like a magnet. All throughout the 70s, the Bandshell sheltered a burgeoning graffiti and skateboarding scene along its curved walls, shaded steps, and hidden corners. It was quite a change from the venue’s early days.

The Naumburg Bandshell was erected in 1923, but its purpose had been imagined long before then. A music-lover named Elkan Naumburg had fallen in love with classical music at the age of 15 when he could hardly afford the cost of concert tickets. Forty years later, as a successful banker, he dedicated a large portion of his hard-earned wealth to insure that New Yorkers would always have access to the city’s finest music.

Photo of Elkan Naumburg from ein Treuchtlinger in New York

Naumburg started hosting concerts in Central Park in 1905 on a wood and cast-iron pagoda-like structure that had been created by one of Central Park’s designers, Calvert Vaux. The concerts grew in popularity over the years, drawing crowds from all facets of New York society. The very wealthy would often arrive by carriage and stay there, enjoying performances from their lofty posts above those on foot. When it became more fashionable to walk to concerts, New Yorkers began mingling more freely, strolling along The Mall during performances, picnicking on the grass, and dancing after sunset.

Photo From the New York Public Library Collection

By 1912, free concerts were beginning to attract thousands of New Yorkers. Naumburg offered New York City $125,000 to build a larger, sturdier structure where operas and symphonies could be performed for the growing crowds. In 1923, a year before his death, plans for the Bandshell had been realized as a neo-classic half-dome carved out of Indiana limestone. Ten thousand people attended the dedication where Naumburg drew attention to the words he’d had inscribed on the building: “To the City of New York and its Music Lovers.”

Ever since then, music and spoken word have boomed from that the Bandshell almost without interruption. Irving Berlin, Benny Goodman, and Duke Ellington brought their performed there with their orchestras. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., E.B. White, and Fidel Castro addressed crowds from its stage. John Lennon’s eulogy was given there, the words carrying toward nearby Bethesda Terrace and Sheep Meadow.

Despite the Bandshell’s longstanding role within New York City’s cultural life, the structure almost faced the wrecking ball in 1992. Once the neo-classical dome became a congregating spot for New York City teens and assorted ‘Parkies’ during the 1970s the location began falling into disrepair. (Check out this SHORT FILM Sunshine Rebels: Gotham's Lost Tribe, about Central Park’s most unique denizens and the Bandshell at its bohemian peak.) By the 1990s, vandals, drug dealers, and homeless New Yorkers had steadily transformed Naumburg’s gift to the city into a building that New York’s Parks and Recreation Department described as “a maintenance nightmare.”

In July of 1993, efforts to tear down the damaged and neglected Bandshell were blocked by the New York State Court of Appeals citing a city law requiring protection of municipal gifts. The building was saved but remained in a state of “demolition by neglect” until 2003 when the Central Park Conservancy and other preservation groups raised more than $2 million to see the structure restored to its former glory. Today, music plays on at the Bandshell thanks to Elkan Naumburg’s descendants and generous support from the public.

Naumburg Bandshell Photo from nycgo.com

Click here to see the complete Naumburg Bandshell schedule of Summer 2012 events.



NYC: Rainy Night Dining in the West Village

Photo by http://www.simplyness.com/

A rainy Sunday in Manhattan might put you in the mood for New York’s cozy indoor spots. The West Village offers too many to recall at just the moment when you might be setting a time and place to meet for candlelit dinner or cocktails.


Open your umbrella and wander a bit, exploring Grove Street, West 10th Street, Bedford Street, Cornelia Street, Barrow and beyond where you will discover West Village gems that could become your own go-to favorites in any kind of weather. What follows are classics that seem designed to charm and inspire conversation:

DeSantos

139 West 10th Street

Grano Trattoria

21 Greenwich Avenue corner of 10th street

Palma

28 Cornelia Street nyc 10014

Babbo

110 Waverly Place at the Northwest Corner of Wash Sq


Buvette

42 Grove Street


The Little Owl

90 Bedford Street the corner of Bedford and grove

Commerce

50 Commerce Street

Bloom & Blossom: April Events in NYC

Blooms and blossoms aren’t the only evidence of spring in the city. April calendars are bursting with New York City events that welcome the season and invite you to explore new ideas and pastimes.

Photo by Maria Gorshin

City Lore is kicking off spring with a re-vamped web site and under-the-radar event listings that are sure to delight every culture obsessed New Yorker.

LandmarkWest! is offering Upper West Siders reasons to gather throughout April. Fascinating events scheduled through the month highlight stories about the neighborhood’s past, details about its dynamic future and images that are sure to surprise.

Photo by Maria Gorshin

New York City street fairs return to the weekend mix this month. Grab a calendar and pencil in your favorites as you peruse New York’s Top Seven.

Between showers, April brings out flowers on the High Line at Macy’s  and on festive bonnets at the annual Easter Parade Nature-friendly frolics take center stage throughout the city on Earth Day.

Photo by Maria Gorshin

Get loose and limber in April at the Yoga Journal Conference with yoginis like Shiva Rea and Rodney Yee (Visit http://www.yjevents.com/ny/ ) then boogie at the Get Down New York Dance Festival in May. (Visit http://www.danceparade.org/ ) The downtown event draws as many as 10,000 dance lovers to Tompkins Square Park and beyond for free lessons, workshops and performances featuring 75 varieties of global getting down.

Photo by Maria Gorshin

Good bye winter blues. Hello spring!

B. Altman and Comapny: The Grande Dame of NYC Retail

Early mornings along New York’s busiest avenues always fascinate me. The city may never sleep, but it does rest, and these pre-sunrise moments offer a glimpse of the city before she’s camera-ready. A diva in repose, if you will. Then the sun rises across the East River, and west-facing windows along Manhattan fracture the beams of light and cast them in every direction. In an instant, it’s as if someone has thrown a switch on a movie set and shouted “Action!” The diva roars to life.

One recent morning, shards of reflected sunrise bounced off a building at the corner of Fifth Avenue and 34th Street, and the effect was so beautiful that it drew my attention away from the flashy Empire State Building across the street. I recognized this shimmering 12-story building from my childhood.

In the 1970s, the building was home to B. Altman & Company, an elegant, glamorous department store that I loved to explore while my mother worked behind the counter for Christian Dior. Given only 20 or 30 minutes at a time to roam, I’d hurry along polished wood and smooth red carpet toward escalators that took me to different worlds on each floor. There were fashions by Halston and Calvin Klein, furs, enormous wedding dresses and ball gowns, and even a furniture section to play in (with each area decorated in things like classic English or chrome and shag). One of the top floors featured a children’s book department that always got me off schedule.

By the 1980s, B. Altman & Company was in decline. It was a stuffy, sad place where shoplifters and gangs of “wilding” teenagers stole merchandise off shelves. By the late 1980s, the store was bankrupt. It closed and was largely forgotten.

Buildings talk, and that morning, shimmering with broken sunlight, the impressive facade of 365 Fifth Avenue hinted at a grander history than the one I remembered. I decided to take a closer look at its past.

It’s hard to imagine now, but the intersection of 34th Street and Fifth Avenue used to be a farm with a stream running across it toward a nearby pond. It wasn’t until late in the 19th century that fashionable New York was drawn to the area by the construction of dignified new buildings. The original Waldorf-Astoria Hotel emerged on 34th Street (on the site that would eventually become the Empire State Building), and soon Fifth Avenue was recognized as New York’s most exclusive shopping district.

In 1906, the B. Altman & Company firm built a store along the east side of Fifth Avenue that stretched from 34th Street to 35th Street.

A few years later, a Madison Avenue portion was added to create a store that would occupy an entire city block. According to a company catalog, it was to be a “source of infinite resources…equipped with every device calculated to contribute to the greatest efficiency of service; in brief, a store of the highest modern order.”

B. Altman & Company interiors were as impressive as the building’s Italian Renaissance exterior.

The department store was known for its grace, proportion, and a “pervasive atmosphere of dignity and refinement.”

It was described as a “luxurious environment which every woman of taste and breeding appreciates.”

Physician’s offices and a 7-bed infirmary were located in the store for the care of employees and for customers who might be “seized with sudden illness while in the establishment.” The store even featured a Mourning Department “generously supplied with every essential of the correct mourning outfit.”

A Delivery Department was housed in a six-story garage on 36th Street where 200 horses, 157 horse-drawn carriages and 85 motor wagons were kept.

For more than 80 years, the magnificent B. Altman & Co. served customers and employees with unequaled courtesy, professionalism and attention to detail. Since its closure in 1989, no store in New York has ever matched its excellence.

The building that once ruled New York City retail is now home to a branch of the New York Public Library and to the Graduate Center of the City University of New York (CUNY).

The next time you visit either of those establishments, rewind the decades to imagine the many lifetimes lived by 365 Fifth Avenue.

Share your own recollections of B. Altman's finest days (and read the memories of former B. Altman shoppers and associates) at The Department Store Museum web site. Read this article as it appeared originally at Ask A New Yorker.

* All black and white images were featured in a B. Altman's catalog published in 1914. The logo is from the Department Store Museum.