|
| |
|
A
somber-hued wonderland of finials, pinnacles, pediments, towers, turrets,
bay windows, stoops, and porticoes: a smorgasbord of late Victoriana and
the successor to the Heights and the Hill as the bedroom of the middle
class and wealthy. These three districts are together the prominent
topographical precincts of old brownstone Brooklyn: the Heights sits atop
a bluff over the harbor, the Hill is a major crest to the northeast, and
the Slope slopes from Prospect Park down to the Gowanus Canal and the
flatlands beyond. Despite its proximity to the park, the area was slow to
develop. As late as 1884 it was still characterized as “fields and
pasture:” Edwin C. Litchfield’s Italianate villa, completed in 1857,
alone commanded the prospect of the harbor from its hill in present-day
Prospect Park. By 1871 the first stage of the park had been constructed,
yet the Slope lay quiet and tranquil, bypassed by thousands of persons
making their way on the Flatbush Avenue horsecars to this newly created
recreation area. By the mid 188os, however, the potential of the Slope
became apparent, and mansions began to appear on the newly laid out street
grid. The lavish homes clustered around Plaza Street and Prospect Park
West eventually were christened the Gold Coast. Massive apartment
buildings invaded the area after World War I, feeding upon the large,
unutilized plots of land occupied by the first growth. These austere Park
Avenue-like structures, concentrated at Grand Army Plaza, are in contrast
to the richly imaginative brick dwellings of Carroll Street and Montgomery
Place, the mansions, churches, and clubs that still remain, and the
remarkably varied row houses occupying the side streets as they descend
toward the Manhattan skyline to the west. |
Park Slope Historic District
On
July 17, 1973,the enclosed boundaries was designated the Park Slope
Historic District. The New York Landmarks Preservation Commission was
adamant in its findings and stated:
"The Commission further finds that,
among its important qualities, the Park Slope Historic District is one
of the most beautifully situated residential neighborhoods in the City,
that its history and deveopment is closely related to that of Prospect
Park, that it is almost exclusively residential in character with
minimal inroads by commerce, that it retains an aura of the past to an
extent which is unusual in New York, that the wide sunny avenues and
tree-lined streets, with houses of relatively uniform height punctuated
by church spires, provide a living illustration of the 19th century
characterization of Brooklyn as "a city of homes and
churches," that the major deveopment of the District within a
realtively brief span of some decades, from the Civil War period to
World War 1, produced a special quality of homogenuity and reularity
reflecting the desire of developers, builders and architects to achieve
coherence and dignity in planning, that this development was a
reflection of the social and cultural aspirations of its residents, that
the houses, churches and other structures provide, in microcosm, a
cross-section of the important trends in American architecture of the
time, that the styles include principally: late Italianate, French
Second Empire, neo-Grec, Victorian Gothic, Queen Anne and exceptional
notable examples of Romanesque Revival houses, the finest in the City
and among the most outstanding in the country; followed by the
neo-Renaissance, neo-Classical, neo-Federal and neo-Georgian,
representing the last great wave of development of the District after
the turn-of-the-centruty; and finally, that because of its distinguished
architecture and its special character as a carefully planned,
homogeneous community, it is an outstanding Historic District within the
City which continues to attract new residents."
|
Pillar of Fire
Recalling the Day the Sky Fell, December
16, 1960

Few Park Slope
residents know that our neighborhood was once the scene of the
country’s worst air disaster. At about 10:30 in the morning, on
Friday, December 16, 1960, a United Airlines DC-8 jet en route from
Chicago to Idlewild (now JFK) airport collided with a TWA Super
Constellation propeller plane flying from Columbus to LaGuardia. The
TWA plane broke into pieces and plunged onto Miller Field, a former
military airport in the New Dorp section of Staten Island, killing
all 44 on board. The crippled United plane managed to remain in the
air for another eight and a half miles before crashing onto Sterling
Place and Seventh Avenue, setting fire to over a dozen buildings and
killing five pedestrians. In all, 135 people died as a result of the
crash.
The crash and its aftermath bore the traits of a classic American
tragedy: tremendous loss of life and homes and businesses destroyed.
It was also a time of individual acts of kindness and powerful
heroism. Many also believed that it was a day of miracles, as the
two crashes could have been far worse. Government investigations
sought to pinpoint the reason for the collision, but were accused of
mounting a coverup. The real story remains unresolved to this day.
Ironically, the crash was also a possible turning point for a
declining Brooklyn neighborhood, and sparked a preservation movement
that grew to include much of the city.
The Neighborhood
While still similar to the
neighborhood that today’s residents would recognize, at the time
the area around Sterling Place and Seventh Avenue was called “a
neighborhood in transition.” While good shopping could be found on
Seventh Avenue, middle-income families were moving out and banks
began redlining the neighborhood, making it difficult for people to
buy homes here. While some neighbors would still visit on their
stoops during the warmer months, dozens of buildings—mostly
between Fifth and Seventh avenues—were abandoned by their owners,
who boarded them up and fled to suburbia. Commenting on the
neighborhood in Brooklyn Heights Paper in 1995, Joe Ferris wrote,
“There were abandoned and derelict buildings on every block from
Flatbush Avenue to 15th Street. St. John’s Place between 5th and
6th Avenues looked as if it had been hit by heavy artillery.” Many
of the brownstones became rooming houses, and once-large apartments
were divided into smaller ones.
On the morning of December 16, the snow on the ground had turned to
slush. The grey sky was heavy with low clouds and a wet snow was
falling throughout the area. The New York Times reported that
“about the only sound on Sterling Place from Sixth to Seventh
avenues was the slushing passage of an occasional car.” Due to the
bad weather, few pedestrians made their way along Seventh Avenue and
Sterling Place, where two men were selling Christmas trees for the
upcoming holiday.
The Aircraft
Trans World Airlines N6907C was a
Lockheed Super Constellation delivered to TWA in 1952. Considered
one of the most beautiful airliners ever built, the graceful
“Super Connie” was powered by four propeller engines and
featured a slightly serpentine shape and a unique tri-rudder tail
section. The plane’s cruising speed was 325 mph and it could carry
64 passengers nonstop for 3250 miles.
United Airlines N8013U was a new Douglas DC-8 jet delivered to
United Airlines barely a year before the crash. At that time the
largest commercial jet in the air, the DC-8 was equipped with four
turbojet engines. This long-range (5720 mile) transport had a
cruising speed of 579 mph and could carry up to 189 passengers.
The Events
TWA flight 266 originated in
Dayton, Ohio and stopped in Columbus, where a change of aircraft
took place and most of the passengers boarded for the trip to New
York. Leaving Columbus at 9 in the morning under the command of
Capt. David A. Wollam, the Super Constellation carried five crew and
39 passengers, including two infants. Among the passengers were
seven specialists in missile and aircraft development from
Wright-Patterson Air Force Base in Dayton; Richard Bitters, an Ohio
University executive; four Ohio State University athletes; Gary
Myers, president of the magazine Highlights for Children and his
wife Mary, parents of five; and Louella Bricker, who was traveling
to the Perkins Institute in Watertown, MA to bring her deaf son
George back to Ohio for the holidays. At least one of the passengers
had a premonition of death. Before she boarded the plane, Nancy
Briggs, a student at Ohio State University, told her boyfriend
Leonard Hart that she had a dream she was going to die and was
afraid that she would never see him again.
As his plane approached the New York area in limited visibility, Air
Traffic Control advised Capt. Wollam to stand by in an area known as
the Linden Intersection (a five-by-ten mile oval-shaped holding area
stretched from East to West above Linden, NJ and the northwest
section of Staten Island) before heading towards LaGuardia at an
altitude of 5000 feet. Like the route of many of today’s flights
into LaGuardia, the plane would have crossed Staten Island into
Brooklyn, turned left and flown over Prospect Park and into the
airport.
After being given permission to land at 10:33:14, the captain began
heading toward LaGuardia. Twelve seconds later, LaGuardia Approach
Control advised that there “appears to be jet traffic off your
right.” Communications with TW 266 then abruptly ended.
United flight 826 was on nonstop service between Chicago’s
O’Hare Airport and New York’s Idlewild. It left Chicago at 9:11
with 76 passengers and seven crew members under the command of Capt.
Robert H. Sawyer. The best-known passengers included Dr. Jonas
Kamlet, a leading chemist; Raymond Walsh, President of Wesleyan
University Press; and Allen E. Braun, Vice President of North
Advertising. Dorothy Miner, head nurse at the University of Illinois
Hospital in Chicago, was flying here to assist her stepmother who
was to undergo surgery, and Elsie Platt was traveling from Illinois
to see her newborn granddaughter for the first time. Many others
were coming home for the holidays, like Frank R. Dileo, a senior at
the University of Utah; Darnell Mallory, a student at Omaha
University, and Enrique Bustos, Jr., son of the former Consul
General of Chile. Some were on trips abroad, like Edwige Dumalskis
and her children Patrick and Joelle, who were en route to France to
visit relatives.
At approximately 10:21, the crew reported to Aeronautical Radio,
Inc., operator of United’s aeronautical communications system,
that one of their navigation receiver units was inoperative, which
was relayed to United Airlines. Unfortunately, the crew failed to
report the problem to Air Traffic Control, which probably would have
provided extra radar assistance. At 10:32, the crew was told to
enter the Preston intersection, an oval-shaped holding area 10 miles
west of Red Bank, NJ, and well to the south of Linden. Its border
was separated from the Linden intersection by five miles. The last
transmission from the United crew was at 10:33:33. “Idlewild
Approach Control, United 826, approaching Preston at 5000 [feet].”
“I think we have trouble...”
An instant later, at 10:33:34,
LaGuardia radar observations showed that two targets merged over
Miller Army Air Field, in New Dorp, Staten Island. The controller
exclaimed, “I think we have trouble here with a TWA
Connie...He’s not moving or anything. He might have got hit by
another airplane.” Flying 11 miles off course and traveling at a
speed of 500 mph— far faster than permitted by Air Traffic
Control—the United jet slammed into the slower Super Constellation
before the TWA pilot was able to react to the warning from the
LaGuardia tower. The right wing of the DC-8 sheared through the
upper right section of the Connie’s passenger compartment, causing
the smaller plane to break into three pieces and spin out of
control.
Rev. Milton Perry, a Staten Island resident, told a reporter from
the New York Times that he “felt the earth shake” and saw the
plane fall in flames and smoke. At that moment, a Mrs. Weber of New
Dorp heard an explosion, went to her window, and witnessed the
crash. “It seemed to fall a few feet and there was another huge
burst of flame... It went down in a terrible way, one wing gone, and
it turned over very slowly. You could watch it all the way and it
was always red from the flames.” Others reported that the plane
had broken into “millions of pieces,” with both airplane debris
and bodies falling from the sky. One TWA passenger was sucked into
an engine of the DC-8. Narrowly missing a housing development, what
was left of TWA plane and its occupants (along with the engine and
wing debris from the United jet) fell onto the vacant airfield,
recently abandoned by the Army (it is now part of the Gateway
National Park). Local residents rushed to the scene and began
pulling bodies from the flaming wreckage until rescue workers and
soldiers arrived.
Pillar of Fire
While the tragedy was over for the
TWA passengers and crew, the terrible events awaiting those on the
United flight and residents of Park Slope were still unfolding.
Losing altitude, the crippled DC-8, which was missing its right
engine and part of the right wing, managed to continue northeast in
the direction of LaGuardia airport and towards Prospect Park, where
witnesses speculated that the pilot was attempting to make an
emergency landing. Slope residents first saw the plane heading
directly for St. Augustine’s Academy on Sterling Place below Sixth
Avenue, with over a hundred students in class, when it was able to
bank to the right. After barely clearing the school, the jet lost
altitude above Sterling Place between Sixth and Seventh avenues. At
an estimated speed of 200 mph, the plane’s right wing struck the
roof of a brownstone at 126 Sterling Place, causing the fuselage of
the plane to veer to the left and crash directly, with tragic irony,
into Pillar of Fire Church across the street. The aircraft and the
church exploded in flames, killing dozens of passengers and Wallace
E. Lewis, the church’s 90-year-old caretaker, as he lay in bed.
The left wing, now on fire, sheared into an apartment building next
door to the church, while another section of the cabin, filled with
screaming passengers, crashed into McCaddin’s Funeral Home on the
corner of Seventh Avenue and Sterling Place. The severed tail
section, mostly intact, fell upright into the intersection of
Seventh Avenue and Sterling Place. Several buildings were totally
destroyed and at least ten were damaged.
For those on the ground, the scene was as if taken from a horror
movie. Interviewed by a reporter from The New York Times, a Mr.
Manza said, “All of a sudden, the right wing dipped: It hooked
into the corner of the apartment house [122 Sterling Place], and the
rest of the plane skimmed into the church and the apartment house
across the street. All at once everything was on fire, and the fire
from the plane in the street was as high as the houses.” Mrs.
Robert Nevin lived at 122, and was in her nightgown standing in the
front room of her top floor apartment doing her hair when she heard
a shattering crash. “The roof caved in and I saw the sky.” Henry
and Pauline McCaddin, owners of the McCaddin Funeral Home, were
enjoying a mid-morning cup of coffee in their second-floor kitchen
while their one-year-old daughter played under the table. Ms.
McCaddin reported, “We were having our coffee and I said to Henry,
‘My goodness, that plane sounds awfully low!’ And just then the
whole house shook like it had been hit by a bomb, and the room was
all in flames.” The McCaddins escaped with the help of Robert
Carter, owner of a hairdressing establishment on Seventh Avenue, who
ran into the burning building to rescue them. A burning section of
the plane’s left wing landed on top of 124 Sterling Place, and
soon a fire spread to the roofs of numbers 122, 120 and 118. The jet
also set fire to six buildings on Seventh Avenue, including numbers
18, 20, 22, 24, 26 and 28. Repairs can still be seen on the upper
floors of many of these buildings.
The crash scene was described by reporters as “an orderly kind of
pandemonium,” with screaming residents rushing from their
shattered buildings into the snow, sirens wailing, emergency radios
crackling, and firefighters spraying water on the flaming wreckage.
Members of Fire Department Rescue Company No. 2 worked continuously
for almost 72 hours at the crash scene, deploying their specialized
equipment to both combat the fire and search through the wreckage
for bodies. In addition to chunks of airplane and brick, the debris
included broken dolls and wrapped presents destined as Christmas
gifts, as well as mailbags bulging with holiday cards.
In addition to Mr. Lewis, five people on the ground were killed. The
unlucky five were Charles Cooper, a sanitation worker who was
shoveling snow, Joseph Colacano and John Opperisano, who were
selling Christmas trees on the sidewalk, Dr. Jacob L. Crooks, who
was out walking his dog, and an employee at a butcher shop located
on Sterling Place. About a dozen others were injured, including
several firefighters and residents of neighborhood buildings.
The Brave Little Boy
All of the occupants of the DC-8
were killed instantly, except Stephen Baltz, an 11-year old redhead
from Wilmette, Illinois, who planned to spend Christmas with
relatives in Yonkers. His father delivered him to O’Hare that
morning, and he was to meet his mother and sister at Idlewild; they
had flown in the day before. As the plane hit the ground and
exploded in flames, Stephen was thrown from the tail section and
onto a snowbank, where residents rolled him in the snow to put out
his burning clothing. Though conscious and repeatedly calling for
his mother and father, Stephen had inhaled flames and smoke, and
also sustained severe burns and broken bones.
Dorothy M. Fletcher, who lived at 143 Berkeley Place, rushed to
Stephen’s side. Knowing that he was in shock, she called on
neighbors to throw down some blankets, and was photographed in a
leopard-patterned coat holding an umbrella over the boy to shield
him from the falling snow. The photo appeared on the front pages of
both the New York Times and the Daily News the following morning. It
was Ms. Fletcher who brought Stephen to Methodist Hospital. (See
sidebar interview.)
Still conscious after his ordeal, Stephen Baltz later described the
crash to doctors at the hospital. “I remember looking out the
plane window at the snow below covering the city. It looked like a
picture out of a fairy book. Then all of a sudden there was an
explosion. The plane started to fall and people started to scream. I
held on to my seat and then the plane crashed. That’s all I
remember until I woke up.”
Newspaper reports said that people all over the country prayed for
Stephen, whose courage and sweet disposition won the hearts of
everyone who met him. In spite of heroic efforts by doctors and
nurses at Methodist, Stephen Baltz died peacefully at 1 o’clock
the following afternoon, his mother and father by his side. A small
bronze memorial to the crash victims containing the boy’s
blackened pocket change—65 cents—was set up at the hospital,
where Ms. Fletcher places flowers on the Sunday closest to the
anniversary of Stephen’s death. (The memorial is now in storage,
to be reinstalled after new construction at the hospital is
complete). Recalling the event recently, the 91-year-old
great-grandmother said, “What broke my heart was when he asked me
if he was going to die. I couldn’t do all I wanted to do. I
couldn’t save him.”
Cause and Responsibility
Faced with the biggest air disaster
in American history, the Civil Aeronautics Board (now the National
Transportation Safety Board) undertook an extensive investigation
into the causes of the crash and made recommendations so that
similar events never happened again. On June 18, 1962—about a year
and a half after the crash—the CAB released its report, which
stated that the probable cause of the accident was that United 826
proceeded beyond the clearance limit allocated by Air Traffic
Control, with contributing factors including a high rate of speed
and a change of clearance which reduced the en route distance by
approximately 11 miles.
Critics of the report called it a whitewash designed to prevent
lawsuits resulting in punitive damages not covered by the
airlines’ insurance. In an updated edition of Unfriendly Skies:
Revelations of a Deregulated Airline Pilot, by “Captain X” and
Reynolds Dodson (Doubleday, 1989), the authors wrote that FAA
inspectors had previously complained that the United Airlines
training program was dangerously unsatisfactory, that many crew
members were denied training, and that United routinely falsified
air safety records. Those who were critical of airline policy and
government collusion were often transferred. “FAA inspectors who
discovered serious fraud relating to violations of the government
air safety requirements were blocked from taking corrective actions.
Obstructing compliance with the air safety laws were FAA and United
Airlines officials, and pressure from members of Congress.”
Documentation related to these earlier charges were suppressed from
the CAB report.
Overall, verdicts concerning the lawsuits (which exceeded $300
million) stipulated that United was responsible for 61 percent of
the claims, Trans World Airlines 15 percent, and the U.S. government
24 percent, because the planes’ instrument landing approaches were
being guided by FAA controllers.
In addition to the families of the deceased passengers and crew,
local residents received settlements from United Airlines, some of
which were considered unsatisfactory. Mr. And Mrs. Andrew Boyle, who
owned a brownstone at 130 Sterling Place, received $3,700 in
compensation, less $900 in lawyers’ fees. In an interview with the
New York Times four months after the crash, Mrs. Boyle said, “We
settled for peanuts. We’ll be in debt for the next ten years over
that crash.” One woman told a different story. Her husband was
also given a settlement of several thousand dollars, and the
windfall (remember that $3000 went a lot farther in 1960 than it
does today) caused him to go on a spending spree. “He went haywire
with it—bought a television set, snappy clothes. Then he took off
with the rest. He hasn’t been around for two months.” The
four-story building containing the McCaddin Funeral Home was
demolished and was soon replaced with a nondescript one-story
building; it is now the site of a new multi-story construction that
will contain both commercial and living space. While other families
eventually moved back to the site of the crash, others simply left
the area. Jimmy Moy, who owned a laundry on the parlor floor at 26
Seventh Avenue, decided to move to Manhattan. The vacant lot on
which the building housing his laundry once stood is now also the
site of new construction.
Saving the Neighborhood
In his article in Brooklyn Heights
Paper, Joe Ferris addressed the danger the neighborhood faced after
the crash: the government’s answer to dealing with damaged
buildings in an already declining neighborhood was urban renewal:
level the area and construct high-rise housing projects. This threat
was a wake-up call for many local residents. Though many worked to
save the neighborhood, Ferris cited a number of community leaders
who helped save Park Slope at that critical time: Robert Makla, who
helped found the Park Slope Civic Council; Irene Wilson, publisher
of the monthly Park Slope Civic Council News; Evelyn and Everett
Ortner, founders of the Brownstone Revival Movement and who helped
secure landmark status for many local buildings; Herb Steiner, whose
organization helped force the banks to stop redlining urban
neighborhoods; and George Lovgren, who saved a local firehouse from
closing.
Today, the area around Seventh Avenue and Sterling Place is one of
the most vital in the neighborhood. Though scars from the crash
still can be seen on some of the buildings and a vacant lot remains
where Pillar of Fire Church and an apartment house once stood on
Sterling Place, few would recognize the quiet intersection as a
scene of the nation’s worst aircraft disaster. With each new
family that moves to Park Slope, the memory of the crash fades from
the neighborhood’s collective consciousness. Yet the memories
remain for many of the neighborhood’s long-time residents. Dorothy
Fletcher, recalling the events over coffee at a neighborhood
restaurant, said, “The crash remains so vivid in my mind. It’s
like it happened just this morning.” PSR
|
Healing
a Gash Among the Brownstones
By MICHAEL BRICK March 27, 2004
In New York City, even the
empty places are already full.
This one is called Block 945, Lot 39, a vacant patch of ground where an
angular and narrow street called Sterling Place intersects a boulevard
called Seventh Avenue in the Borough of Brooklyn, County of Kings. Dolly
Williams, who bought the lot a decade ago for $250,000, knows it
differently, as a canvas of sorts.
"You can actually put your own dreams into anything that's
vacant," Ms. Williams said.
For a vacant lot, though, this place is awfully crowded, with haunting
memories and other unruly things.
Here, decades ago, the sky opened up and conjured a rain of metal and
fire; a crashed airliner killed scores, ruining all that came before.
Since then, people have projected their own dreams all around this lot,
often at cross-purposes, and have provoked questions grander than those
that the numbers of a catalog system can address.

-United Press International
Wreckage of an airliner crash in 1960 at Sterling Place and Seventh
Avenue in Park Slope, Brooklyn.
And so far Ms. Williams, like others before her for four decades, has been
unable to complete something new in this empty place.
"I don't know what is wrong with this corner," said Ms.
Williams, who counts among her accomplishments an appointment to the City
Planning Commission. "Maybe it is jinxed or something."
There are rumors of such places in New York. One is 18 West 11th Street in
Manhattan, where the Weathermen blew up a house in a bomb-making accident.
Nearly a decade passed before the resulting vacant lot was filled. And
there, the only homage to the past came in the form of a stark departure
from it, modernist architecture with wild angles and open spaces.
Here in Brooklyn, the history is more gruesome still. But to truly know
what fills this empty place, first look anew at the familiar and obvious
sights around it. The crossing of Sterling Place and Seventh Avenue sits
near the northern terminus of Park Slope, a leafy and bustling
neighborhood peopled in the main by handsomely paid editors, lawyers and
copywriters, and families with children and Manhattan money. The buildings
are uniform three-, four- and five-story brownstones, done in dark colors
with evenly situated windows and straight cuts, topped by carved details
that draw the eye from one to the next, an urban sameness, like
architectural toy soldiers.
And then look back in time to the way this ground came to be a jarring,
hollow break in that continuity of form. There are photographs of an
airliner that tore through the brownstone that stood here in December 1960
after a midair collision with another plane. Captured on film, lying in
the slush on this corner, staring out battered and dazed, Stephen Baltz,
11 years old, embodied the worst disaster in the history of aviation to
that time, with 134 killed. He was the plane's sole survivor, and he lived
only a night.
It was into a decaying neighborhood that the airplane fell, and the blow
struck hard. Jimmy Moy, owner of the laundry in the basement of the
brownstone, left and never came back.
Those two images from past and present are hard to square, and what is
more, jinxes are a suspect explanation for anything.
So, last, sit in a parlor inside one of these ornate and proud park-side
brownstones and listen to Everett Ortner, 84, describe his version of the
events that brought Park Slope to its present condition.
Mr. Ortner, a science editor, found what would become his own brownstone
during a 15-minute stopover in May 1963 on the way to do some research on
scuba diving.
"On Seventh Avenue, a quarter of the storefronts were empty,"
Mr. Ortner said. "There wasn't a restaurant. The local A.&P.,
which was the only supermarket, was filthy. You could have walked down our
street and not seen a child."
Mr. Ortner volunteered to serve as public relations man for the
neighborhood, and he set out to promote it with walking tours, block
parties and open houses. The point of all this exertion, Mr. Ortner said,
was to make a living monument to the beauty of the brownstones and the
sense of community they can nurture.
"Never again, never again, never again will houses of this quality be
built for the middle class of the city," he said. The beauty of the
Park Slope brownstones, he said, is an abstract thing. "I suppose
it's agelessness. There's a feeling of security in knowing it will look
like this in the future, and there's a connection to the past, which I'm
very sensitive to."
A generation later, that sensitivity has been codified, and it is into
this place, hardly vacant at all in figurative terms, that Ms. Williams is
trying to put something new. She is not the first.
In 1988, one Margaret O. Walker filed plans for a four-story building of
two-bedroom apartments topped with a penthouse. Over the next few years,
she sought to satisfy objections from the City Buildings and Environmental
Protection Departments as well as from the Landmarks Preservation
Commission. By 1991, she was missing deadlines from one agency while
waiting for approvals from another, city records show. Ms. Walker
ultimately gave up.
Later, Ms. Williams sought to impart her own vision onto this ground,
still empty. In August 2001, she won the city's approval for her proposed
departures from Ms. Walker's design, including eliminating the penthouse,
installing lantern-style fixtures and painting the metal panels a color
called Formal Garden SW1455.
But she did not get far. The Buildings Department issued a stop work order
in February 2003 for failure to protect the neighboring buildings during
excavation. The order was lifted the next month. In August, the Landmarks
Preservation Commission ordered another halt, objecting to the placement
of window openings in the shell Ms. Williams had constructed. That, too,
was lifted.
All the while, the neighbors campaigned to have the shell torn down.
Judging by the framework, said Carmi Bee, an architect who lives nearby,
the building appears poorly designed and hastily constructed. "First
of all, it's on Seventh Avenue, and everyone knows that corner because of
the plane crash," he said. "What's at stake here is that they
can't let a precedent like this happen."
In a letter to the Landmarks Preservation Commission, another neighbor,
Robert W. Ohlerking, raised an objection particular to this lot. "It
offers no acknowledgment of the building that was there before or the
tragic historic events that caused its destruction," Mr. Ohlerking
wrote. "Aren't historic districts meant to also include historic
events as well?"
As if in reply, a marker hangs from a lamppost directly in front of the
lot. It says:
Principally built between the mid-1880's and World War I, Park Slope
retains its 19th Century profile of three- and four-story buildings,
punctuated by church steeples, recalling Brooklyn's character as the city
of homes and churches.
The sign goes on to mention the Victorian Gothic, Queen Anne and
Romanesque Revival architectural styles, but says not a word about any
airplane crash, and certainly nothing about any walking tours, block
parties or friends that Old Man Ortner can recall.
In the daytime now, nannies and young mothers walk by the lot pushing
empty strollers, accompanied by young girls who push toy-sized empty
strollers of their own.
"It's become a fertile place," Mr. Ortner said of Park Slope.
"I'm amazed at the number of young people we have, too. Good looking.
Well dressed."
And the blank space in Park Slope, Brooklyn, Kings County, New York City,
will be filled come Christmastime if Ms. Williams has her way.
"Everybody knows the history," she said. "Being vacant
doesn't serve any purpose."
From The
New York Times |
From the
(1939) WPA Guide to New York City:
The Park Slope District,
centering about the Grand Army Plaza entrance to Prospect Park at the
intersection of Flatbush Avenue and Eastern Parkway, has been since the
mid-nineteenth century Brooklyn's "Gold Coast." In the quiet
streets off the plaza are rows of residences that rival the mansions on
Manhattan's Fifth Avenue. Around the plaza itself, and towering above
the huge Soldiers' and Sailors' Memorial Arch, are tall apartment
buildings, a solid bank of which extends down Eastern Parkway opposite
the new Central Building of the Brooklyn Public Library and the Brooklyn
Museum. Behind the latter are the grounds of the Botanic Garden,
separated from Prospect Park by Flatbush Avenue. The broad, tree-lined
parkway, leading straight to the arch, recalls the Champs Elysées.
Prospect Park West is an equally fine
neighborhood, which west of Sixth Avenue changes into an area of seedy
houses, industrial plants, and warehouses. In the latter section dwells
a small colony of Newfoundlanders, known to the neighborhood as
"blue noses" or "fish," who gain a livelihood on the
fishing smacks that go down to the sea from Sheepshead Bay.
The Old First Reformed Church,
Seventh Avenue and Carroll Street, was formally established in 1660,
although services had been held four years earlier. The first church
structure was built in 1666 on what is now Fulton Street, between
Lawrence and Bridge Streets, and by a genial Dutch custom stood in the
middle of the road. In 1792, English was substituted for Dutch in the
church service. The present building, fourth on this site, was erected
in 1889. It contains Vergilio Tojetti's mural, The Empty Tomb.
The Soldiers' and Sailors
Memorial Arch, in the center of Grand Army Plaza, Eastern
Parkway and Flatbush Avenue, a monumental granite arch modeled by John
H. Duncan, faces the entrance to Prospect Park. The cornerstone was laid
by General W. T. Sherman in 1889, and the arch completed in 1892. It is
80 feet high and 80 feet wide; the aperture is 50 feet high, and has a
span of 35 feet. The arch is surmounted by a bronze quadriga by
Frederick MacMonnies, the central female figure carrying a banner and
sword, and accompanied by two winged figures of Victory. The inner faces
of the pier are decorated with equestrian figures of Lincoln and Grant
in high relief by W. R. O'Donovan and Thomas Eakins.
In a terraced oval fronting the arch is
Bailey Fountain, the $125,000 gift of Frank Bailey. A sculptured group
of male and female figures representing Wisdom and Felicity stands on
the prow of a ship surrounded by Neptune and his attendant Tritons and a
boy grasping a cornucopia. Eugene Savage created the fountain; Edgerton
Swarthout designed the base.
Prospect Park,
bounded by Prospect Park West, Prospect Park Southwest, Parkside, Ocean,
and Flatbush Avenues, consists of 526 acres of rolling meadows,
picturesque bluffs, and luxuriant verdure. The park is the chief
playground of Brooklyn, with picnic grounds, tennis courts, baseball
diamonds, ponds, a zoo, a lagoon, parade grounds, bandstand, gravel
walks, and broad driveways. The city of Brooklyn purchased most of the
area in 1859 at a cost of nearly four million dollars from the
Litchfield estate, whose mansion serves as borough headquarters of the
Park Department. Delayed by the Civil War, development was begun in 1866
under a commission headed by James S. T. Stranahan, the "Baron
Haussmann" of Brooklyn, creator of its park and boulevard system.
One of the main entrances is at Grand
Army Plaza, where, to the left of the drive, stands the portrait statue
of Stranahan by Frederick MacMonnies. Beyond the plaza, gravel walks
flank the Long Meadow, a rolling grassy hollow, affording an unimpaired
view for nearly a mile. Folk festivals and native dances are frequently
held on the meadow; and May Day is celebrated here by school children.
Picnic grounds, and locker and refreshment houses are on the west; to
the east is Swan Lake, a circular pond whose swan boat provides
amusement for children in summer.
Walks wind across the meadow to Prospect
Park West, the first terminating at the Third Street entrance, which is
flanked by bronze panthers of heroic size, the work of A. P. Proctor.
Near the Fifth Street entrance is the impressive Litchfield
Mansion, a Tuscan villa in white stone built in 1855 from
designs by Alexander J. Davis. Long a center of Brooklyn social life,
the house was acquired by the city in 1892.
At the Ninth Street entrance is the
Memorial by Daniel Chester French depicting Lafayette as a general in
the Continental Army. Along the walk that leads into the park from this
entrance are the greenhouses (open daily 8 a.m. to 5 p.m.) where flower
shows are held annually; to the north and east are the tennis courts,
the carrousel, and the picnic grounds shelter. At the southern extremity
of Long Meadow is the fenced-in bluff of the Quaker Cemetery,
a private graveyard of fifteen acres, established in 1846 and still in
use. Simple stones, in the Quaker tradition, mark the graves.
The walk encircling Swan Lake reveals the
rough boulders and wooded heights of the moraine ridge which bisects the
park in a northeast-southwest direction. At its northern end Swan Lake
flows into a brook which trickles eastward through a deep fissure in the
ridge, creating a scene of charming wildness--banks strewn with
boulders, rising tier by tier, and bridges arching over brook and
adjacent bridle path.
The brook ends near the Music Grove,
whose bandstand is fronted by tall trees, beneath which are rows of
benches. In summer the wide-spreading branches form a leafy ceiling for
the audience of Edwin Franko Goldman's Band, the Federal Music Project
orchestras, or the occasional vaudeville and drama performances of the
Federal Theatre Project.
From the east bank of the brook, walks
branch down and cross East Drive. One of these paths leads south to a
boathouse where rowboats are rented. Another path leads to Battle
Pass (a little north of the zoo), an unusually. narrow defile
marked by a granite block supporting a bronze eagle. Here the Valley
Grove Road, known as the "Porte" or gateway to the hills on
the south, crossed the old Kings Highway or Flatbush Turnpike going
north, and offered General Sullivan and his men a chance to make a stand
in the Battle of Long Island. Through the tragic failure to guard the
Jamaica Pass in East New York, however, the British were enabled to
attack from the rear, capturing Sullivan and forcing the Continentals to
retreat.
Farther north along East Drive is the
Vale of Cashmere, a natural amphitheater filled with azalea, summersweet,
and rhododendron in tropical profusion. A place of retreat, as its
poetic name implies, there is a lagoon in the center, with ledges of
rhododendron. On the north side steps lead up to the rose garden, laid
out in formal beds around three circular pools.
To the south is the menagerie (rebuilt in
1935), where thousands of visitors daily wind in and out of a neat
semicircle of red-brick buildings facing Flatbush Avenue near the Empire
Boulevard entrance. (Open weekdays days 11 a.m. to 6 p.m., Saturday,
Sunday and holidays 10 a.m. to 6 p.m., closes one hour earlier in
winter; admission free.) The sunken-barrier moats make it possible to
view the animals without the obstruction of bars. Designed by Aymar
Embury II, the menagerie is notable for its architecture. The plan
centers on the elephant rotunda, to form a group far better integrated
than the earlier Central Park Zoo by the same architect. The buildings
are decorated with bas-reliefs and murals--the work of WPA
artists--depicting scenes from the life of Mowgli, hero of Kipling's Jungle
Books.
South along the East Drive is the Lefferts
Homestead. (Open Monday, Wednesday, and Friday 1 to 5 p.m.;
admission free.) It was built by Lieutenant Peter Lefferts in 1777 to
replace the house burned by the British, and was presented by his
descendants to the city in 1918, when it was moved from its original
location at 563 Flatbush Avenue. A notable example of the late Dutch
Colonial style, it has a low gambrel roof which curves out to form a
wide overhang supported by slender columns. The front entrance has a
richly paneled door, paned-glass side lights and top light, and an
entablature of carved sunburst designs supported by paired shafts. The
interior is under the care of the D.A.R. The living and dining rooms,
separated by an arch, are on the north side of the main hall; the parlor
and real bedrooms are on the south. Above are a children's room with
four-poster and trundle beds, a maple room and workroom. The attic, of
roughhewn beams, contains a smoke room. The lower two-story wing is used
by the caretaker's family.
At the Empire Boulevard entrance is the
old Flatbush Toll House, an octagonal cabin with
disclike roof, which marked the division between Flatbush and the town
of Brooklyn in Turnpike days. Near the Ocean Avenue-Lincoln Road
entrance the walk crosses the drive to the old-fashioned garden on the
east. Here are the restaurant and refreshment stands, with statues of
Beethoven, Mozart, Von Weber, Grieg, Thomas Moore near by, and, across
the drive, Washington Irving. At the head of the terrace, below a flight
of stairs, stands a statue, by Henry Kirke Brown, of Lincoln reading his
Proclamation.
The view of the lake here is perhaps the
best, exuberant foliage shrouding the shores of peninsulas and islets.
The lake curves around the southern edge of the park; boating in summer,
ice skating in winter, attract many of the park's 75,000 weekly visitors
On the north side of the lake is the miniature yacht boathouse, housing
the sloops which dot the wide water front in mild weather.
North of this boathouse is Prospect or
Lookout Hill, the central pinnacle of the ridge for which the park is
named. About halfway up is the chaste Monument to the
Maryland Regiment that held the Hessians at bay to permit the
Continentals to retreat during the Battle of Long Island. The polished
granite column with bronze Corinthian capital and white marble globe was
designed by Stanford White and erected in 1895 by the Maryland Society
of the Sons of the American Revolution. Near by, tiers of stairs lead to
the summit of the hill, which affords on clear days a panorama of the
densely settled environs of Brooklyn, with the ocean and harbor beyond.
Drive and walk follow the lake shore to
the Park Circle entrance at the southwestern tip, notable for the
statue, The Horse Tamers, by Frederick MacMonnies.
Across Parkside Avenue to the south is
the Parade Grounds, frequented by National Guard and American Legion
units, a rectangular plain of forty acres, once used by the military and
now divided into forty-five baseball diamonds, converted in season into
football fields.
The Central Building of the
Brooklyn Public Library, Flatbush Avenue and Eastern Parkway,
finally approaches completion in 1939 The site of the projected
building, which was intended to replace the small outmoded structure on
Montague Street, was chosen in 1905, but the foundations were not laid
until 1914. From that date until 1937, when the present administration
took action, little progress was made. The total cost of the neoclassic
building will be five million dollars. Githens and Keally are the
architects.
Brooklyn Botanic Garden,
Eastern Parkway, Washington and Flatbush Avenues, is known for its
floral displays, and pioneer research and educational work. (Open daily
from 8 a.m. to dusk, except Sunday and holidays, when the gates open at
10 a.m.; admission free.) Founded in 1910 as a department of the
Brooklyn Institute of Arts and Sciences, it now occupies a fifty-acre
plot, opposite the eastern edge of Prospect Park. The plot is enclosed
by tall poplars and shrubs. The Horticultural Garden on the Eastern
Parkway side leads to the Overlook, from which the rest of the grounds
may be viewed. There are two entrances on Washington Avenue (south of
Eastern Parkway), one at the conjunction of Flatbush and Washington
Avenues, and one at Eastern Parkway, near the Brooklyn Museum.
The outdoor plantations include a general
Systematic Section showing botanical relationships; special gardens
including the Japanese, Rose, Rock Ecological, Native Wild Flower,
Water, Wall, Iris, Children's, Shakespeare, and Herb Gardens;
horticulture collections and plantings. The Laboratory Building contains
the herbarium with some two hundred thousand specimens, an excellent
reference library on plant life, and (in the conservatories) a display
of economic or tropical plants and other groups such as those tracing
the evolution of plant life.
Probably the most celebrated feature is
the Japanese Niwa, or landscape garden. Designed and cared for
largely by Japanese gardeners, it covers about an acre in the northeast
corner just above the Laboratory Building. A typical example of the
Japanese talent for condensation, the Niwa embodies aspects of four
kinds of gardens steeped in religious or social tradition--palace, tea
cult, Shinto, and Buddhist temple. It is built around a lake shaped like
the Chinese letter meaning "heart" (the center of meditative
calm) and is bordered by Japanese iris. The East Indian lotus in the
lake is the Buddhist symbol of immortality; its root, flower, and seed
pod--which symbolize the past, present, and future--appear at one time.
This concept is the basis for the chief Buddhist doctrine, "The
Covenant of the Eight Years." The torii, or bird perching
gate, in the lake, marks the approach to a Shinto shrine on the rise
beyond, where three distinct levels, representing the trinity of Heaven,
Man, and Earth, are divided by a gorge and waterfalls. On the path to
the shrine is a Kasuga stone lantern with elaborate ornaments and
carvings of the zodiac animals, modeled after one in Kasuga Temple Yard
in Nara, the ancient capital of Japan.
The Tea House, which has a circular
latticework opening on one side, affords a dramatic panorama of the
garden. From the north wing a path runs beyond a rustic torii to
the Moon View House or Waiting Pavilion across the lake. Here, in Japan,
guests would await the melodious gong calling them to tea. Just beyond
the pavilion is a drum bridge leading to an island with stepping stones,
beach, and cave for aquatic birds.
The garden is planted for the most part
with hardy specimens such as mountain laurel, azalea, wisteria, and
mulberry trees, to insure the proper year-around display. Except for the
open lakeside, the whole is enclosed by a bamboo fence.
North of the Japanese Garden is the Herb
Garden with varieties of medicinal and culinary herbs. To the west,
under the Overlook, are Cherry Walk, popular in May; the esplanade with
Norway maples on either side; the lilac collection, of some two hundred
varieties, and the Rose Garden, in full flower in June.
Near the Eastern Parkway entrance rests a
huge boulder with a bronze tablet memorializing André Parmentier, who
in 1825, at Atlantic and Carleton Avenues, established the first botanic
garden in Brooklyn. This and twenty-eight other boulders scattered
throughout the grounds were unearthed in the excavation of the ridge,
the second highest ground in Brooklyn, and part of the terminal glacial
moraine deposited during the Ice Age and extending from the Narrows to
Montauk Point. Other glacial rocks are utilized in the Wall Garden,
running 385 feet along the Mt. Prospect Park embankment, near Eastern
Parkway, and in the Rock Garden lying to the south near Flatbush Avenue.
The Rock Garden, built in 1916, contains
eight hundred species of Alpine and rock loving plants from all parts of
the world. In the Native Wild Flower Garden, between the Lilac Triangle
and Wall Garden, a large number of species found wild within one hundred
miles of New York City grow in profusion.
Most of the remaining outdoor area is
devoted to the Systematic Section which winds north to south along the
banks of a brook coursing through the grounds. The algae, mosses, and
ferns on the south shore of the lake, are succeeded by various classes
of gymnosperms (plants v with naked seeds) including the conifers. Last
come the vast array of angiosperms, or flowering plants, with seeds
enclosed in an ovary. In this section the exhibits are arranged in a
sequence of plant families from the simpler to the more complex forms.
West of the Laboratory Building and
conservatories is the Laboratory Plaza, a formal garden of magnolias and
stone vases, and in Conservatory Plaza are two water-lily pools, one
containing tropical varieties and the other, hardy specimens. The white
stone and stucco Laboratory Building, Completed in 1918, was designed by
McKim, Mead, and White. Its central and wing sections, two stories high,
each surmounted by an octagonal cupola, contain research, lecture, and
assembly rooms, and administrative offices, as well as the herbarium and
library. In the rotunda of the central Section are bronze busts of
Linnaeus, Darwin, Mendel, Asa Gray, Robert Brown, and John Torrey--the
work of WPA sculptors--and two symbolic figures by Isabel M. Kimball.
Southwest of the conservatories are the Children's House and Garden,
pioneer project of its kind, where each year hundreds of boys and girls
study nature and practical gardening under supervision. Near by, a
Shakespeare Garden exhibits many of the plants mentioned in the poet's
plays.
The Botanic Garden is a semi-public
institution. The city, which furnished the land and most of the
buildings, provides maintenance; the Brooklyn Institute of Arts and
Sciences supplies the administrative personnel and scientific material.
Garden members are entitled to previews, free docent and technical
service, reduced tuition rates and free copies of publications.
The Brooklyn Museum (Central
Museum of the Brooklyn Institute of Arts and Sciences), Eastern
Parkway and Washington Avenue, is outstanding not only for its
collection of the arts and crafts of primitive Oriental, Egyptian, and
American peoples, but for an extensive and progressive educational
program that has made it one of the leading educational forces in New
York. (Open weekdays 10 a.m. to 5 p.m., Sunday 2 to 6 p.m.; admission
Monday and Friday, adults 25¢, children 10¢, other days free.) The
activities of the Brooklyn Museum include many courses and lectures for
children and adults; concerts, folk festivals, demonstrations of art
techniques, motion pictures, and touring exhibitions. The museum is used
by more than a million people annually.
The building was erected by the city and
leased for a nominal fee to the Brooklyn Institute of Arts and Sciences
(see page 453). Funds for the maintenance of the building and grounds,
which are under the jurisdiction of the Department of Parks, are
provided by the city. The income from a private endowment is used to pay
curators' salaries, to purchase works of art, and for incidental
expenses.
The building, constructed in four
sections between 1897 and 1925 at a cost of $3,300,000, was designed by
McKim, Mead, and White. Of a huge projected plan, only the central
portion and one wing have been completed. Like other works by the same
architects, it is an impressive monument, but in terms of contemporary
museum requirements it is quite outmoded. During the past few years a
WPA project has been making the museum one of the most modern and
pleasantly arranged in the country. The most striking change has been
the removal of a monumental stairway which originally gave access to the
third story, and the building of a new entrance hall at the ground
level.
In the recent alterations the galleries
were completely modernized with respect to color, lighting, and dramatic
presentation of material. Architecturally treated walls have given way
to plain surfaces, pleasantly colored and ideal as backgrounds for the
display of works of art. Maps and educational labels designed for easy
reading accompany the exhibits. A progressive directorship has widened
the cultural ties between the museum and the community; in the words of
the director, "the whole museum is conceived as a place for
enjoyment, recreation and education, not as an exclusive palace where
art is remote from the common touch."
The entrance hall gives the first hint of
the recent transformation. With its interesting forms, levels, contrast
of materials, lighting--a maximum of effect with a minimum of
expense--it is an example of the best in modern architecture. Devoid of
the elaborate decorations which so often clutter up the entrances of
public buildings, it contains only a few works of art changed from time
to time, and cases for feature exhibits. Among the sculpture now shown
there is a bronze cast of Bourdelle's war memorial, France Saluting
America, which stands in Bordeaux. Adjoining the hall are several
galleries for special temporary exhibits. Usually four such exhibitions
are on view.
The permanent exhibitions on the first
floor embrace the Indian cultures of North and South America, and the
primitive cultures of Malaysia, Polynesia, Melanesia, Northern Japan,
and Negro Africa. The American Indian collections, including rich
specimens of pre Columbian gold ornaments, are among the finest and most
extensive exhibitions of the native arts of the Western Hemisphere to be
seen in any museum. The collections of primitive material, though less
extensive, reveal the specific qualities of each culture, the materials
and techniques used by each race, and the direct relation of the arts
and crafts to the daily life of these primitive people. Whether it is an
Ecuadorian jaguar in clay, exquisitely woven shrouds from Peru, totemic
carvings from the northwest American coast, a stylized frigate bird as a
Melanesian fisherman's god, or the sturdy fetish figures from the Congo,
each local culture is seen to produce objects which are at once useful
and beautiful. In the cases are also musical instruments, bows and
arrows, shields, dolls, rugs, shawls, pots, delicate pieces of jewelry,
and models of Maya temples.
The offices and classrooms of the
educational division, as well as the museum restaurant, are also on the
first floor.
A long gallery on the second floor, near
the main stairway, serves as an approach to the permanent collection of
the art of Persia, India, Japan, and China, which, emerging from a more
complicated social organization than that of the primitive peoples, has
a wider range and subtlety of form and subject. The great technical
advances made by the Oriental craftsmen in metal and pottery are
demonstrated in this collection.
The Persian collection includes exhibits
of art objects from Persia as well as those lands which were influenced
culturally by Persia, such as Turkestan, Mesopotamia, and Turkey. It
features paintings of incidents in the lives of heroes, princes, and
poets; thirteenth- and fourteenth-century pottery; examples of Persian
calligraphy; and rugs, which are still popular in western parlors.
Among the East Indian collections are
paintings dating from the sixteenth to the eighteenth centuries that
bear witness to the interesting struggle ale between the Rajput of India
and the Moghul invaders: the Rajput paintings are expressive of folk
art, with its simple designs and flat color, and contrast with the
courtly style sponsored by the invaders, with its European atmospheric
effects, subtle tones, and complicated court subjects. Other East Indian
exhibits are statues and paintings of Buddhist and Jain religious
figures, a chess set, early pottery figurines, heavy gold and silver
jewelry, and jade objects of the Moghul aristocracy.
In the Japanese collection, a few
workingmen's coats of simple but beautiful design are shown with a large
display of lacquer and pottery, costumes, war masks, and arms and armor.
A treasure of the Japanese exhibit is a group of Hokusai sketches.
Religious paintings, sculpture, masks,
and ceremonial costumes are the main objects in the exhibits from Siam,
Tibet, and Korea.
The Chinese collection represents many
centuries of civilization during numerous dynasties and religious
transitions, in bronze figures, delicate paintings of animals and birds,
grave figurines, jades, porcelains, and cloisonne.
The well-equipped library and Department
of Prints and Drawings are also on the second floor. A print study room
is available to students, while a small gallery near the Print
Department is devoted to temporary exhibits of the graphic arts. Among
notable items in the print collection are the Goya Capricios,
Whistler lithographs, Picasso's Metamorphoses, Segonzac's Treilles
Muscate, a first edition of Piranesi's Carceri, Maillol's Art
d'Aimer, Pennell lithographs, and selected prints by Millet, Degas,
Manet, Dufy, Bonnard, and Toulouse-Lautrec.
The Greek and Roman collections on the
third floor summarize the art of the ancient world from pre-Hellenic
times to the decline of the Roman Empire. While the number of exhibits
is somewhat limited, essential objects have been chosen which
characterize the daily lives of the people of the Aegean and
Mediterranean worlds. Large illuminated photomurals of architectural
remains, such as a Mycenaean grave circle, the temple of Zeus at Athens,
the Colosseum, and the aqueduct at Segovia, supplement Cretan and Greek
sculpture, household articles and coins, and Roman glass and frescoes.
Other galleries on the same floor house
the Egyptological collections. They consist principally of two
collections, one formed by Charles Edwin Wilbour about 1880, the other a
loan of the New York Historical Society. The Wilbour collection is
especially rich in items of the Amarna period. New objects are acquired
through a fund donated by the Wilbour family, by purchase, and through
joint expeditions, such as that with the Egypt Exploration Society. A
small tomb, royal and private sculpture, jewelry both gold and enamel,
textiles, utensils, scarabs, and the mummies of three bullocks are among
the displays. Adjoining the Wilbour Gallery is the Wilbour Memorial
Library of Egyptology.
In a small room adjacent to one of the
Egyptian galleries are twelve Assyrian ceremonial bas-reliefs from the
palace of Ashur-nasir-pal, also lent by the New York Historical Society.
They are from the same excavations as those at the Metropolitan Museum.
The large sculpture court on this floor
plays an important role in the museum's life. For want of an auditorium,
concerts, lectures, folk festivals, and other cultural activities are
held here. Scattered around the sides are representative works of
contemporary sculptors, among them Barye, Rodin, Maillol, Meunier,
Milles, Epstein, and Ahron Ben-Schmuel.
The gallery of medieval art on the fourth
floor provides examples of painting, sculpture, and craftwork from the
late Roman Empire to the Renaissance The Byzantine, or Eastern Empire,
and the Western Empire are both represented. Here are textiles of the
Copts (Christianized Egyptians of the third to sixth centuries);
fifteenth-century carved polychrome figures of Christ; statues from
France, Germany, and Spain; tempera altarpieces of the Italian and South
German schools; English stained glass; and chasubles of Roman bishops. A
small group of icons, mostly from the seventeenth and eighteenth
centuries, testify to the persistence in the Greek Catholic Church of
the stylized rendering of religious figures and scenes characteristic of
near eastern iconography.
An adjoining gallery contains a large
collection of peasant costumes and fashionable women's dresses chiefly
of the nineteenth century. Different techniques of weaving, embroidery,
and other processes of ornamentation are comprehensively illustrated.
Extensive study collections of textiles are available to students.
A notable group of Colonial American and
Early Republican interiors is also on this floor. Rooms of farmhouses,
plantation manors, and merchant chant homes have been reconstructed with
zealous attention to decorative and architectural detail. The rooms
range in provenance from New England land to South Carolina, in date
from 1665 to 1820.
A series of galleries is devoted to the
painting, sculpture, ceramics tapestry, glassware, furniture, and
plastic art of the Renaissance, including the Frank Lusk Babbott and
Michael Friedsam collections. While there are no outstanding works of
great masters, Italian paintings typical of the chief schools convey the
lively charm of Florentine and Venetian artists. A few French, Dutch,
and Spanish masters are represented, among them Clouet, Hals, Ter Borch,
and Goya.
A comprehensive collection traces the
diversity of schools in American painting from the eighteenth century to
the present day. The portraits of Copley, Sully, Stuart, and Peale
contrast with the work of naive and refreshing early American painters
of lesser renown. Next come the Hudson River painters with their
preoccupation with landscape; and these are followed lowed by
Impressionists, Realists, and Romanticists. Good examples are to be seen
of the work of Albert Ryder, George Inness, John Singer Sargent, Winslow
Homer, Thomas Eakins, Childe Hassam, Mary Cassatt, Arthur B. Davies,
John Sloan, Alexander Brook, Walt Kuhn, Thomas Benton, and others. Among
the water-colorists are Charles Demuth, John Marin, and George
Burchfield. Homer and Sargent are each represented by a number of water
colors.
Across the rotunda from the Renaissance
galleries is a long gallery containing nineteenth-century European
painting. Here are represented Delacroix, the great romantic; Corot and
other members of the Barbizon school; the Impressionists, Degas, Sisley,
Monet and Pissarro; the Realist Courbet; and the father of so many
moderns, Cézanne.
|
|
Ozzie's
Coffee & Tea, 57 Seventh Avenue
Review:
Park Slope Brewing Company (January 1996)
Pictures
of Park Slope by Rushton Young
The
Old First Reformed Church, 729 Carroll
Street
Congregation
B'nai Jacob of Park Slope, 401 9th Street |
December 28,
2003
Rezoning, and Redefining, Park Slope
By ALAN S. OSER
New developments like Prospect Park Estates on Second Street, have
extended the traditional boundary of Park Slope to Fourth Avenue.
TEN years ago, when Karen Brenner first moved to Park Slope, she settled
in a rented one-bedroom floor-through on Third Street between Fifth and
Sixth Avenues. In 2001 she moved again. She bought a two-bedroom apartment
in a newly built 36-unit condominium called Park Slope Estates on Second
Street between Fifth and Fourth Avenues.
To outsiders that might not seem like a big change. Geographically, it
isn't. But Park Slope residents long believed that housing down the slope
from Fifth Avenue was much less desirable than housing on the more
easterly blocks off Sixth, Seventh and Eighth Avenues as far as Prospect
Park West at the park itself. Fifth Avenue was dismal as a commercial
street, and it was a psychological boundary from the standpoint of housing
value.
In the last three years or so, this has changed.
"Fifth Avenue is becoming the new trendy street, like Smith Street in
Carroll Gardens," said Ms. Brenner, a television editor in her 30's.
"In 1991 you wouldn't go there at night to find a hamburger. Now you
can get a full meal any time of day."
You can also find new housing on the side streets, as Ms. Brenner did. For
the striking phenomenon in Park Slope, especially though not exclusively
between Fifth Avenue and Fourth Avenue, is the presence of new
construction on large midblock parcels of the Lower Slope.
Most of the buildings recently completed or in construction are on land
that was formerly vacant or else occupied by commercial buildings.
Over the last year buyers have been paying about $335 to $440 a square
foot for new apartments throughout Park Slope, based on 36 closings, said
Peggy D. Aguayo of the firm of Aguayo & Huebener. Based on 43
sales now under contract, prices have risen to $368 to $535 a square foot,
| |