An Autumn Walk on the Upper West Side

Manhattan is beautiful year-round but it seems at its best in Autumn, especially on the Upper West Side.   

The morning sun gilds these Upper West Side brownstones.  

It's misty and peaceful only along West 73rd Street. The roar of Columbus Avenue nearby seems muted.

Autumn colors are at their peak along Central Park West.

A lovely morning or splendor in the park? Daniel Webster seems lost for just the right words. 

 Signs of hurricaine damage but it's more fun to think this tree, in delight, eased down its limbs to touch the dew.

A pedi-cab driver commutes accompanied only by the rustle of leaves and a gentle whirr of wheels.

An Autumn in New York view through a canopy of color.

The Last Candy Store in NYC

If you grew up on New York's Upper West Side in the 1970s, there is a name that might bring you back to good memories of your old neighborhood and a New York that is long gone: Joe's Candy Store.

A chain store now stands at the corner of West 75th Street and Columbus Avenue where Joe's commanded the block for almost three decades. Peel back the years, tear up the floors and strip away the many coats of paint, wallboard and fixtures and you might see what this little storefront was like thirty years ago.

Everyone made a stop at Joe Leibowitz's candy store at least once a day and everyone left with a lot more than just a sweet snack. It was the place to rush into for a newspaper then linger around the stacks of Daily News editions and New York Posts to catch up on neighborhood gossip with Joe and Mrs. Leibowitz. You might get updates about who died, news about a rent-controlled apartment being sublet for cheap, hear a joke, learn about someone's graduation, someone else's promotion. If you bought a new car, this was the corner to park and let regulars at Joe's, "The Neighborhood," ooh and ahh and maybe tease you a little bit: "A Jaguar, look at the big shot. Can I borrow a few dollars." "A Fiat! You mean a fix-it-again-Tony. Good luck!"

If it was a hot day it was the place to cool off at the magazine racks while getting yelled at - "What is this, a library." Egg creams were sipped at the formica counter lined with battered red stools. On rainy days neighbors would duck in, complaining about the weather, while shaking out umbrellas on the chipped tile floor. Damp newsprint filled the air on those days along with the scent of bubble gum, violet candies, rubber bands and everything else that made an old candy store feel so familiar.

In one way the corner of West 75th Street hasn't changed - it's still about communication. Today's version involves Verizon employees addressing your cell phone issues. A few decades ago it was Joe helping neighbors stay connected. Neighbors would leave messages for each other at the store and Joe made sure those messages were picked up. The old wooden phone booths in the back were filled with yellowed phone books and received a steady stream of crank calls but they also helped store patrons stay in touch. Someone might call to see if a friend was in the store. When Joe answered the caller would get a straightforward answer. If one of the neighborhood teens that made Joe's their hangout answered between rounds of playing street hockey, the caller would get an earful of silliness. Those boys - Joe, Louie, Jose, Meatball, Kenny, Jocko and more - loved, argued with, joked with and protected Joe Leibowitz and the old man returned it all with gusto.

The bartering system was alive and well along that strip of Columbus Avenue when Joe's Candy Store was around, a fact I discovered while helping my high school sweetheart fill in for Joe and Mrs. Leibowitz on occasional weekends. Simple things, like holding keys, providing change for laundry or holding that special parking space on the corner for a neighbor would be returned generously. Cheescakes from Miss Grimbles arrived with frequency as did gourmet sandwiches from the cheese shop a few doors down, pints of ice cream from the first Haagen Dazs in NYC, free t-shirts from a boutique on Columbus Avenue and an open invitation to borrow rollerskates any time from a sliver of a storefront next door.

Joe's Candy Store couldn't survive the commercial rent increases that gentrification brought to the Upper West Side in the 1980s. Efforts by Ruth Messinger, councilwoman for the Upper West Side at the time, were furiously backed by neighbors and fans of the Leibowitz's but in the end the store's rent jumped 300%. The Upper West Side lost it's last candy store and a neighborhood lost the simple little store that held its heart.

A Little Rain, Much Architecture: The Highbridge Bronx Tour

When was the last time you strolled in the rain around a Bronx neighborhood looking for architectural gems within a few blocks of Yankee Stadium? A group of 12 weather-proof preservation conference attendees did just that last weekend, basking not in the sun but in the company of likeminded "history buffs and detail geeks." William Casari, assistant professor at Hostos Community College and a Bronx resident, was accurate when he defined himself and our group as such. He led us on a tour of Highbridge in the West Bronx that offered a close look at a borough's past and present through the prism of architecture.

The tour included a stop at Macombs Dam Park, which is now the site of the new Yankee Stadium. Next, we enjoyed an informative talk about Jerome Avenue’s finest buildings then a visit to Park Plaza Apartments, a building rich with Art Deco details and Mayan motifs. A climb up Jerome Slope offered a panoramic view of Highbridge plus the opportunity to explore the area further.

Every step seemed to offer an architectural detail to capture in a photo or a nuance about life in the Bronx. A stop at a “step street” became even more interesting when a man at Diaz Superette mentioned that an out-of-control car had once launched down its full length, landing in a pile on the sidewalk below. At Noonan Plaza, a series of 7-story apartment buildings designed by Horace Ginsbern and Marvin Fine, residents carried groceries and children past a group of visitors talking about what seems like an ordinary building. In a window a little girl sat peering down at a bare quadrangle that once boasted a waterfall, a reflecting pool, swans and a Japanese-style bridge.

Several times, neighbors stopped to ask with curiosity what we were looking at then offered hospitality – by opening a locked door or by offering permission to enter a lobby. Local residents seemed unaware of the not-so-obvious treasures in their communities but Morgan Powell, a guest on the tour, is making an effort to change that: he leads walking tours in the Bronx especially designed to inform and inspire residents with updated local history.

The variety of architectural styles found on every street in Highbridge was a source of constant delight during the tour as was the element of surprise. Again and again, behind the facades of worn buildings, Mr. Casari would reveal elegant marble vestibules, Art Deco mirrors, antique signage, terrazzo floors and, in one case, the luxury of open space in a double height lobby.

Rain and high winds didn’t hamper 12 intrepid New Yorkers last week. Our enthusiasm was well-rewarded in a borough whose significance and beauty are frequently overlooked.

The following are images from that tour. Enjoy then visit hdc.org and bronxriver.org for details about upcoming tours and events.

Robert Plant and Band of Joy in the Perfect Setting

The moment Robert Plant and Band of Joy appeared on stage at the Beacon Theatre on Saturday Night the air went electric with a charge that ran both ways. They hit the boards beaming and visibly jazzed for a night of playing great music while the audience rose to greet them in a spontaneous, all-at-once movement that seemed set off by a shockwave of ardor. In America’s favorite rock room, American roots music was about to be re-interpreted by the finest blues singing, gospel belting, country swinging and soul rendering artists of the day.

First up was a mightily rearranged “Black Dog”, inflected with mike stand flourishes and loose-limbed dancing, that left the audience enthralled and out of their seats throughout most of the evening.

When the rumble of “Down by the Sea” brought Robert Plant to the words, “When I get older, will you come down to the sea,” the crowd roared their hearty vows. Drummer Marco Giovino delivered a rolling beat for the song that moved seamlessly from the realm of Native American warrior dance to intricate tabla territory. Multi-instrumentalist Darrell Scott coaxed sitar accents from his guitar, providing the first hint of his mastery over all things stringed that he would reveal in each song. (Later, switching between guitars, mandolin and banjo, he pulled Jimmy Page’s signature reverse echo effects from a pedal-steel.)

“Welcome to an unexpected, scintillating evening with Band of Joy,” said Mr. Plant, looking across the audience and around his circle of musician friends with genuine pleasure. Buddy Miller raised a wall of twang and fuzz tone, filigreed with Darrell Scott’s mandolin, for “Angel Dance”. Riding high on steady currents of appreciation from the crowd, Plant said, “I think we’ll be alright tonight, Patty,” before leading into a harmony duet with the astonishing Patty Griffin on “Please Read the Letter”. A cover of “Houses of the Holy”, refurbished into a stately country home that rocked nonetheless, was one of many evening highlights. “The great, superlative leader of the band, “Buddy “Hoochie Coochie” Miller,” is how the golden god segued from “Satan Your Kingdom Must Come Down”, where bass player Byron House added profound bass vocals to his bass lines, right into “Somewhere Trouble Don’t Go”. Miller’s solo on the song revealed him to be a fearless virtuoso.

The swagger of “Rich Woman” and the hunger of “Silver Rider” rose into the heavenlies upon Darrel Scott’s pure mountain voice in “Satisfied Mind”, a spine-tingler that generated an ovation. “House of Cards” and “Move Up” confirmed for the audience what Robert Plant and a legion of fans have already discovered: Patty Griffin can belt out and wail every song with grit, power and majesty.

And so it went for the rest of the night – Band of Joy moved with assurance between gospel, bluegrass and genre-bending selections from Robert Plant’s decades as a solo artist, to re-imagined covers of Los Lobos, Low and Led Zeppelin tunes before doubling back to venture even further into diverse musical landscapes. Such brilliant meandering made for a fascinating evening for all.

Band of Joy is exactly that – a circle of authentic artists who derive unabashed delight from each other’s music. Throughout the evening they played in a loose circle, grooving to each other’s improvisations and responding to each other’s subtlest cues. Band of Giants is another name that might have done them justice – each of the six artists is a standout – but then the chance to pay homage to a pre-Zeppelin era would have been missed.

Robert Plant hasn’t left behind Led Zeppelin – he’s bringing the influences that fueled that once-in-a-lifetime collaboration into the present moment and racing forward with them in exquisite company. Plant and Band of Joy are on a quest to reach deeper and stretch further into all musical territory – a journey no music lover will want to miss.

Little Italy: A Building Tells a Story

When Old St. Patrick’s Cathedral in Little Italy became New York’s first basilica last Sunday, all eyes, and camera lenses, were on the church but directly across the street stood an unassuming building that drew my attention. It turns out that 256-258Mott Street has an interesting past.

What is now a co-op building used to be known as the 14th Ward Industrial School. It was built for John Jacob Astor and his wife Charlotte in 1888 to serve, in the words of The New York Times over 100 years ago, “a district of wretchedness, poverty and squalor.” It became a school, run by the Children’s Aid Society, where impoverished immigrant children could receive daily lessons in “industry, thrift and cleanliness" along with hot meals.

The Astor’s bought the lot for $21,000, hired Calvert Vaux, the co-designer of Central Park, to design the building and paid $42,000 to have the Victorian Gothic structure built. The little red brick building on Mott Street became a safe haven for generations of children in a neighborhood that used to be part of the infamously violent Five Points district. Today its classrooms are residences and the building stands serene amidst cafes and boutiques.

Every one of New York's oldest buildings has a story to tell and each one seems worth repeating.

Central Park West Skyline: An Uncertain Future

Every time a neighborhood loses one of its favorite landmarks – an old bookstore, theater, bar or old-fashioned corner store – it’s heartbreaking for the immediate community. Now development threatens to ruin one of New York’s most iconic skylines – a view that if destroyed might be doubly heartbreaking if measured by the number of people its loss would impact.

The Central Park West Skyline is recognized by millions of local residents and out-of-town visitors as part of the city’s architectural history and a symbol of Old New York but that hasn’t stopped developers from planning changes to it that could permanently damage its familiar appearance. It’s hard to imagine looking out from the rooftop garden at The Met, from the path that circles the Reservoir or from Belvedere Castle to see that gentle skyline interrupted by glass towers but that is exactly what might occur.

“The threat to the Central Park West Skyline is one that emerges over and over again.” said Kate Wood, Executive Director of Landmark West! the non-profit organization that curates nearly 2,700 cultural and architectural landmarks throughout the Upper West Side. We discussed the issue that may become central to Landmark West’s preservation efforts in 2011.

CGW: How real is the threat of development to the Central Park West Skyline?

KW: The Central Park West Skyline is such an iconic part of New York City that everyone would assume that the skyline is safe. Surely you couldn’t build a monstrosity that could mar that skyline. But what we have seen is a consistent pattern to attempt to use the air space hovering above low-rise sites along and near Central Park West.

CGW: But as part of a Historic District aren’t the buildings that line Central Park West protected?

KW: The Central Park District is preserved but it doesn’t mean it can’t change at all.

CGW: What makes Central Park West architecturally significant?

KW: The area is a careful balance of buildings developed over time in three waves of development from the 1870s to the 1930s, from low-rise to mid-rise to the taller luxury apartment buildings with the twin tower-style design. The result is an up and down skyline where your eye can follow different waves through time. We think there’s a special quality there that if a new development is proposed we need to look at what the impact to the landmarks would be.

CGW: How difficult is it to fight the sort of development that would destroy the integrity of the existing skyline?

KW: What we’ve seen again and again is a pitched battle. Hundreds of people need to turn out just to make the point that this can’t happen.
We just can’t keep battling this way on a case by case basis. Through a study (conducted by architecture and planning firm Weisz+Yoes) we were able to investigate the future of development along Central Park West and its impact on the skyline. What the study identified were ten sites where we can foresee these types of proposals coming forward. This study allows us to be prepared to offer alternatives to development. Keep in mind that Central Park West is only one of four skylines. Any tools we come up with could be useful to other parts of the city.

CGW: What are some of the alternatives to development?

KW: Landmark West! and other non-profits are looking at the model of rural land conservation for solutions - The Trust for Public Land, for example. Ideally we should be working more collaboratively with property owners to help them see that they don’t have to build to their maximum allowance in order to reap benefits. Instead they can exchange those rights for some other valuable incentive, taking alternative value from their sites and building modestly within their zoning. That incentive carrot together with the stick of regulation would make all the difference.

CGW: It’s surprising that an organization like the New York Historical Society, an organization dedicated to the preservation of history, plans to add a 28-story tower to the skyline in a historic district.

KW: They’re looking at the American Museum of Natural History and seeing high attendance. They want to do something flashy and visible to be noticed and it becomes about marketing in a way that can have long-term destructive impact on the building. They have all these unused development rights on their property and they see this as a potential windfall but if they exploit their air rights there’s no guarantee the money would be spent to increase their endowment or services. In the meantime the city would be dealing with a permanent addition to the skyline. That’s just not a fair trade-off.

CGW: In a worst case scenario, the NYHS tower and a proposed condominium building over CSI would go up. What would be the immediate impact to the area?

KW: There would be the environmental impact. But people would suddenly realize what they had lost - one of New York's most beloved skylines.

(Additional notes from Landmark West!: It could also trigger a “domino effect” along Central Park West and throughout the city. Nonprofit and for-profit developers in each of the five boroughs, eager to exploit their own sites, would recognize the approval of these towers as a precedent opening the door for future development.)

CGW: What is the worst aspect of fighting institutions that are your neighbors right here on the Upper West Side?

KW: These battles are polarizing. People support and volunteer at the New York Historical Society, for example, and take their children there to visit and suddenly you feel like you are on the other side of the battlefield from them and that’s not what anyone wants.

CGW: What can New York City residents do to help ensure the skyline remains as it appears today?

KW: Now that public hearings (for CSI and the NYHS) are over these cases have gone into hibernation but with landmarks, even when they’re ‘saved’ they’re never really safe. Protecting these buildings requires our constant attention. They need a human force field around them and that’s why Landmark West is here otherwise there is no one to organize around these efforts. In January, Columbia University Graduate students in Urban Planning will build on the Central Park West Skyline report. Once we have some solid facts to go on it will be a matter of getting the political support from elected officials and talking with City Planning. Ultimately we have to have buy-in from the mayor. In the meantime we need to build grassroots momentum. Once we have a better sense of what sort of legislation needs to be put into place we will build a constituency.

My Year with the Guccione Family

When I read that Bob Guccione died yesterday I thought about his family and wondered how a man who chose to live such an unconventional life will be remembered.

I worked as an editorial and personal assistant for the Guccione family during my senior year in college. During that time I learned there was more behind the Guccione name than what most people tend to imagine.

When I arrived at the Omni offices on Broadway for the first time in the mid-80s I assumed that I'd be interviewing for an internship with the science magazine of the same name. When the elevator door opened and I was confronted with an enormous portrait of Bob Guccione sitting in a gilded chair with a nude woman straddling his lap I assumed I'd gone to the wrong floor. It turned out that I was on the right floor but the interview wouldn't be with Omni. It would be for an internship that would expose me to every aspect of the publishing business while I moved from one publication to another within the Guccione empire.

My first assignment at General Media, Inc. was as assistant to the Editor-in-Chief of Penthouse Magazine, Peter Bloch. I was responsible for fact checking a series of long articles on chiropractic medicine while I shivered in a cold, drab cubicle. Opening the mail each day was my only break from boredom. The Dear Penthouse letters that appeared in the mailbag among invoices were either funny or bizarre. They were hardly ever written on ordinary writing paper. I came across letters written on gift wrap, brown paper bags, innersoles, takeout menus, posterboard and even one that arrived written in perfect penmanship on a long stretch of toilet paper.

At the end of that first month of yawns and shivers I was moved to my next assignment, this time at New Look, the first-ever, gear-oriented magazine for men. Bob Guccione invented the format that today is a crowded genre. Critics thought it would fail so there was a gung-ho energy in that office as everyone worked hard to ensure New Look's success. The scene there was active, young and spontaneous.

One morning while I was making calls on a research assignment I was distracted by a sudden flash of movement nearby. I turned to look only to find a kangaroo hopping along the editorial department's grey carpet, it's blue vest emblazoned with the magazine's name. The office broke out into laughter and squeals as the creature was chased around by the wrangler charged with getting him to a promotional event.

I realized after only a few weeks at General Media that the company derided by feminists as being exploitive of women was dominated at every level by bright, powerful women. Later, I discovered that Dawn Steel, of Penthouse's advertising department, had gone on to become head of Paramount Pictures. Editor-in-chief of Vogue, Anna Wintour, launched her career with Bob Guccione as fashion editor of his experimental women's magazine, Viva.

When it was time to leave New Look I was so disappointed to learn that I'd be moving to accounting next. The only compensation was knowing I'd be working with Anthony Guccione Sr., the elder statesman of the family, and Nina, Bob Guccione's quiet, dark-haired sister or daughter - I don't remember exactly. What the experience lacked in thrills it made up for in good company.

During that time I'd walk the halls between dull tasks trying to oxygenate my brain so that I could stay awake. While peeking into offices I found Ori Hofmekler's artist studio and made a good friend. I remember his great stories, many of them fascinating conspiracy theories and the wild political caricatures he painted for the magazine. Every day at some point I would escape to his studio and take a seat on a low stool near a window to visit and watch him paint. He would entertain me with his clever political rants and his tales about his life back in Israel. In return I would make him laugh with my daily observations about the goings-on in the offices below his studio.

Soon my accounting assignment was over and it was onto the next adventure. I learned that I would now be the personal assistant to the formidable Kathy Keeton, co-founder of Penthouse, Omni and Longevity magazines and wife of Bob Guccione. That was exciting yet terrifying news. She was known to all of us lowly assistants as an exacting boss. I was shaking on that first Monday morning as I entered her realm at Longevity Magazine.

The first time I saw Kathy Keeton she was walking down the hall toward her office, accompanied by a chauffer and five Rhodesian ridgebacks. She wore a tiny, pink Chanel suit. I stood to greet her but then sat back down at at my desk with no idea what to do. When she was settled in for the morning she yelled for me with such force that I jumped. I wobbled into her office knowing that dogs sense fear. Her five huge dogs lay by the door looking massive and potentially dangerous so I smiled as I inched past them. I turned to see Kathy Keeton sitting at her desk looking small but equally as intimidating so I smiled even more. I stood at her desk, aware that Rhodesian ridegbacks are trained to take down prey from behind. I tried to focus on my new boss' words rather than on her dogs behind me but it was impossible -they had my full attention.

For the next however-long at Longevity, my responsibilities included participating in the letter writing campaign against the Edwin Meese Commission (the group was attempting to ban Guccione publications from 7-11s) and keeping the Rhodesian ridegbacks well-fed with chopsteaks from a restaurant on Broadway. I also shopped all over Manhattan for Ms. Keeton, picking up holiday gifts for Penthouse Pets. But what I appreciated about my role was seeing the daily life of a publisher - learning how editorial decisions were made, witnessing how major advertisers could be convinced over time to spend their dollars and watching the magazine's founder channel her passion for wellness into a magazine that would not only be successful but generate a new health magazine genre.

After those stressful but fascinating months with Ms. Keeton it was time to change roles again. I moved to the photography and layout department of Penthouse to assist the Director of Photography. My work consisted mostly of administrative tasks and setting photographers and models at ease as they waited to present their portfolios to the director - an easygoing Dean Martin-like man with a great sense of humor. He and his Vice President were best friends. They kept their wives happy by shopping often and genrously for them. They once returned from lunch to tell me about the matching Jaguars they had just ordered for their wives and another time they went out to buy the ladies matching mink coats. I was a struggling student back then and listened to their stories in amazement while eating Cup-A-Soups and eating whatever crackers I could find in empty desks around the office. I think they were the happiest team at General Media.

Next up for me was a brand new magazine called Spin. I'd be assisting the youngest Guccione, Bobby Junior. (The two words were always spoken running together as if they were both his first name.) It was an incredibly busy, exciting time to join the magazine. The only real music magazine then was Rolling Stone and here was this 19-year-old boy ready to take that giant on.

The days at Spin flew by - there were no dull moments like those I experienced in my cubicles in the Traffic or Accounting departments throughout General Media. At Spin there was a constant flow of new ideas, new music and a lot of flirting among the young staff. In the middle of this whirlwind was BobbyJunior, dark curls crowning his head in the style of a young Caesar in his father's empire.

He always had a joke and a friendly remark for everyone even though he was under enormous pressure to prove himself within the publishing industry. At least twice a day he would sit on my desk for a chat but he moved back and forth between casual conversation and actual task-making that I learned to keep pen and paper at the ready at all times. Even during frenetic moments he played the charming host for the staff but the dark circles under his eyes and his intensity made it obvious that this was, above all, serious business.

After Spin I moved to C.B.S. Records to work in publicity for Andy Warhol's protege, Susan Blond but I missed General Media for a long time. I never found out who orchestrated my moves from depratment to department or from Guccione to Guccione throughout that year but whoever did did a fantastic job of showing a journalism student every aspect of publishing.

I never did meet Bob Guccione himself but I was able to learn from the people he loved most at the publications he was most passionate about and from that I have to conclude that he must have been a powerhouse - he ignited tremendous drive in each member of his family and organization. I was in awe of Kathy Keeton. She radiated health, beauty and an incredible focus that made her seem larger-than-life. I hope they will both be remembered as people who lived extraordinary lives.