West Side Highway

On Saturday, after meeting friends at a diner in Chelsea and walking a portion of the High Line, I decided to check out an abandoned stand-alone diner that I had read about. I walked about a mile down the West Side Highway, which I don't do very often but I really love the desolate and gritty feeling of the far west side.

Of course every neighborhood in New York has become impossibly cool and expensive and the west side is no exception (probably  especially the west side), but the West Side Highway still feels a bit abandoned, especially on a cold, winter weekend. I only passed a few people—mostly walking dogs—and I didn't cover much ground, but saw so many wonderful things. There are some really great old hotels, abandoned and for-sale buildings, auto-body shops and so much amazing signage and vintage typography that I couldn't have been happier.

I only went as far south as the abandoned diner and then turned around. It was hard to take photos through the tiny openings in the chain link fence, but the inside of the diner is falling apart, filled with debris and is still totally amazing. All of the windows are out of the old dining car and it's in really bad shape, but you can still imagine how it must have looked in its glory days. I hope someone resurrects the diner instead of just tearing it down—what a dream it would be to be able to bring it back to life—but its pretty incredible in its current state of decay.

High Line: Winter

My biggest complaint about the High Line is how unbearably crowded it can get. Every time I've gone it has been uncomfortably packed with slow-moving people—it's an old elevated rail line, so it's not very roomy to begin with and there are parts where it narrows to almost a single-file line.

This weekend, however, I decided to check it out figuring it would be bearable in the cold and snow, and to my delight it was as sparse as I'd ever seen it. There were still people on it, of course, but at times it felt as if I had the park to myself, which is something I never thought I'd experience.

I haven't explored the High Line or the Chelsea/Meatpacking district very much, but I always find something interesting when I do. The mix of old and new buildings is especially fascinating to me, and as much as I prefer the old to the new, the juxtaposition of both is sometimes really nice.

You can even find remnants of why the area is called the Meatpacking District if you look hard enough—and any place that offers a good view of the Empire State Building is worth a visit, even if you have to share the view.

Snowy Green-Wood Cemetery: Part Two

I took so many photos of Green-Wood in the snow, that I decided to break them up into two posts. As I was looking through them, I noticed that I was particularly interested in the statues, so here are my favorites from that snowy walk:

I'm still sad that our trip to Woodlawn was foiled by the snow and a grumpy security guard because I can't stop thinking about how beautiful it all looked covered in snow. I would love to go back to Green-Wood right after a snowstorm and catch some of these statues actually covered a bit more.

Angels are always my favorite cemetery statues but one gets bonus points if it's missing arms, or—my very favorite—its head. I love the way they weather and crumble, how they get covered in moss or lichen, and how desperately mournful they can look. It's one thing to read a kind inscription or see a name, but its another thing entirely to see a weeping angel, bent over a headstone in eternal despair.

Snowy Green-Wood Cemetery: Part One

Bronx Zoo

On Saturday Jim and I had plans to explore Woodlawn Cemetery. We were delighted that it started snowing on our way up to the end of the 4 train and I was excited to see another cemetery blanketed in snow . As soon as we tried to walk through the gates, however, the guard stopped us to tell us that the cemetery was "closed to walk-ins" because of the "hazardous conditions." I tried not to be too disappointed (quite unsuccessfully) and scrambled to find an alternate plan.

We settled on the Bronx Zoo and ended up having a great time. I had only been to the zoo once before (also in the winter), but never in the snow, which makes everything better (except apparently walking through a cemetery).

I saw a lot more animals than I did last time, and most seemed to not be bothered at all by the snow—some, like the brown bears, even appeared to love it. Zoos are kind of inherently sad, and a few of the animals definitely tugged at our heart strings (the polar bear pacing back and forth, the puffins swimming furiously at the glass) but the Bronx Zoo has some of the best habitats I've seen.

All of the animals seemed pretty active and we even saw a few being very active, like the two frogs that were snuggin' and two crocodiles that seemed awfully friendly with each other. I love seeing places in their off-season, and the zoo was especially deserted in the snow. It's actually hard for me to imagine the grounds crawling with children when I've only ever had to share it with a few other people. I think I've finally hit the point in the winter where I'm looking forward to spring, but I'm grateful to feel as if I have such wonderful places essentially to myself at least for a little while longer.

Snowy Green-Wood Cemetery: Part One

One of the first things I thought of when I heard that we had a snow day last week was "I should go to Green-Wood Cemetery," (that's totally normal, right?). The cemetery was closed all day, unfortunately, although I did get to walk by it (after my walk through Prospect Park) and peek through the fence. It looked incredible in the snow, and Sunday I finally made my way inside.

The roads were plowed, and some of the snow had started to melt but it was just as beautiful as I had imagined. As much as I love cemeteries and snow, I had only ever been to Calvary Cemetery in the winter, and on a warm day when most of the snow had already melted. I knew I wanted to make a snowy cemetery visit a priority this winter, and this was the first significant snowfall we've had this year. 

Sunday was a beautiful day and luckily not bitterly cold. I walked around for about two hours and didn't even have to keep my gloves on. Some of the snow drifts were pretty deep, but it was so peaceful and I barely saw anyone else on my walk. I hadn't been to Green-Wood since the open house tour this past fall, and it was great seeing some of my favorite mausoleums and statues against the beautiful snow. 

No matter how many times I go to Green-Wood, I always see something new and interesting. This time, the "transplanted children" headstone wins for strangest stone I saw, and I know I've said it before but it just doesn't get any better than a pyramid-shaped, Egyptian-themed mausoleum. Also, since the trees have lost their leaves, the view of Manhattan and the Statue of Liberty from Battle Hill is currently perfect—I can't think of a better place in the world to spend all of eternity.

Snow Day

Last week New York was supposed to get a "blizzard of historical proportions", but we actually ended up with about 7 inches of snow. Despite the blizzard being a complete bust, we still got the day off work and having an adult snow day was everything I dreamed it could be.

The subway was up and running by about 10 am, and so was I—I headed to Brooklyn to check out the winter delights in Prospect Park (with a stop to get second breakfast at a bagel shop near the park). I don't know Prospect Park as well as Central Park, but I always love the time I spend there. It's a bit more wild and less crowded than Central Park, although on Tuesday it was full of fellow snow-dayers, making the most of the meager snowfall, sledding, snowboarding and cross-country skiing.

We walked around the park for a while, hitting all of the highlights—the lake, the lookout points, the beautiful bridges—and I even got to check up on the swans, which (despite my fear of birds) are my favorite part of Prospect Park.

We haven't gotten nearly as much snow this year as we had last year and I'm hoping for at least a few more good storms before winter is over. I'm not greedy enough to expect another snow day—I've been told that they're very rare in the city—but that won't keep me from hoping for more perfect winter days like this one.

Cathedral of St. John the Divine: Vertical Tour

I have been to the Cathedral of St. John the Divine many times—on tours before I lived here, to see the Xu Bing exhibit and I often stop in while I'm on a walk around my neighborhood since I live so close. I am very much not a religious person, but I've always loved grandiose churches and St. John the Divine is one of the grandest. It's tied with the Liverpool Church for largest Anglican cathedral, and it is the fourth largest Christian church in the world. Its construction was halted by the start of World War II and has remained unfinished ever since.

You can tour the interior at your leisure, but to go up inside of the cathedral you have to take what they call a "vertical tour." Francesca, Trent and I took the 12pm tour on Saturday and I highly recommend it. Our tour guide was knowledgeable and interesting, giving us a history of the architecture and construction, as well as explaining some of the intricate stained glass themes.

We climbed to a few different levels of the church via a very tight spiral stone staircase and the views were incredible. There were a few stops on balconies outside of the church, and the view of snowy rooftops in Morningside Heights and the Upper West side was perfect.

We even got to see the attic of the cathedral, which protects the vaulting from the elements and offered a behind-the-scenes look at the back of the famous Guastavino tiling on the ceiling of the church. When you're standing on the main floor of the cathedral it's hard to get a good feeling of just how soaring everything is, and it was nice to get to experience it all from a different perspective. We also got to see some of the amazing stained glass up close, pieces that you can barely see at all from the floor. Like I said, I'm not much for religion, but I'm grateful that if I ever did suddenly decide that I needed a place to worship, a place as beautiful as St. John the Divine is just a few blocks away.

Meow Parlour

As soon as I heard that New York was getting its very first cat cafe, I made reservations for Francesca and me. The Meow Parlour is on Hester Street on the Lower East Side—it's been popular so we had to wait about a month before there was an open night. We went at 7pm, an hour before they close and there were four other people there when we got there, but they left soon after and we had the place to ourselves. The cafe part of the "cat cafe" concept is kept separate from the actual cats, in this case it's down the street. It was closing, so we didn't get any cat-shaped macarons or coffee, but that wasn't really the point for us.

Although I have my share of cats to pet on a daily basis, I was still excited to be surrounded by them, and I told Francesca that she had to make sure that I didn't end up adopting one or all of them. That is, of course, the entire point of the cat cafe and I really hope more people go with the intention of taking home one of the residents.

They were all adorable and lovable and it was hard to pick a favorite—that is, until Fang emerged from under the front desk ten minutes before closing time and stole both of our hearts with her unique markings, incredibly sweet personality and gorgeous eyes. Fang is the senior resident of the Meow Parlour, at 10-years-old, but most of the cats are quite young.

Ringo is the pure black cat and he warmed up to me immediately (must be my witch-like tendencies); Roger is white with black spots and he was content to lord over the others from his perch in the Scratch Lounge; Puddin' is a big white ball of fur who gives zero fucks and napped for the entire hour that we were there.

There was one cat who never left the box that he/she had wedged him/herself into, and two sets of cats that looked nearly identical. There was a sweet tortoise-shell that looked just like a cat I used to know and love, and a frisky tabby named Lucky Lemon who was doing his best to destroy an adorable cardboard ice cream truck by eating it.

The place definitely felt like a new business, and it was a bit awkward at first but once we got over that (or once we had the place to ourselves), our hour went by really quickly. I don't have an intense need to pay $4/half hour to pet cats on a regular basis (if anyone wants to pay me anything to come pet Mozart, I'm down with that), but I love that the Meow Parlour exists for people that might not be allowed to have pets, or live with someone who is allergic, or for people looking to take home a pet of their own. I'm sure I'll be back with visitors or to try the macarons, and while I hope Fang finds a home soon, I'll miss her most of all.

Ellis Island Hospital: Part 3

During our tour of the abandoned hospital complex on the South Side of Ellis Island we were also lucky enough to be able to see the art exhibit "Unframed—Ellis Island" by JR scattered throughout the buildings. Life-size photographs of Ellis Island immigrants are pasted all around the complex—on broken windows, rusty lockers, walls—all interacting with their environments in interesting and surprising ways.

Usually I'm wary about installation pieces, especially if the building is something so extraordinary that it doesn't need any further embellishment, but this exhibit was spot-on. There were just enough of the pieces to keep you hunting for them, and to make them compelling when you did catch a glimpse as you turned the corner. Part of this has to do with the actual immigrants themselves—it's hard to beat the impact of seeing the people in situations and rooms in which they may have actually been.

Like all of the abandoned chairs, seeing the photographs really helped to humanize the spaces and allow us to better imagine what life must have been like when the buildings were operational. Our tour guide said that she had had descendants of some of the people in the photographs on her tours, which is pretty awesome. I've read quite a bit about Ellis Island, but this tour and exhibit left me wanting to know even more about the millions of people who passed through here and all of their fascinating stories.

Ellis Island Hospital: Part 2

As I was looking through my (massive amount of) photos from the incredible Ellis Island hospital tour that I took recently, I kept noticing chairs. Sometimes alone, sometimes in piles, sometimes neatly arranged, sometimes missing legs or splintered or covered in peeling paint—there were chairs everywhere.

There wasn't much in the way of actual objects in any of the buildings, apart from toilets, sinks, cabinets and other fixtures that were still attached in some way but there's something about an empty chair in an abandoned space that strikes me as especially creepy. Furnishings of any kind help make a space feel lived in and make it easier to imagine what the place was like when it was operational.

Some of the chairs felt purposeful, others felt tossed aside, but they always made me stop and look a little longer and a little differently than I might have in a completely empty space. Some even looked like they were just patiently waiting for their former occupants to return at any minute.

My favorite was actually a little stool—worn, cracked, covered in dust and missing half of one leg but still standing somewhat impossibly upright, basking in the bright sunlight.

Snowy Commute

Last Friday I woke up to an unexpected snowfall and decided to walk to work through Central Park. I used to walk to and from work more frequently before I moved farther north and I'd almost forgotten how much I enjoyed it. I actually cheated a bit and took the subway to West 96th Street and Central Park West and then walked my old route along the reservoir to East 91st Street and Fifth Avenue.

We didn't get a ton of snow, and it had almost stopped falling by the time I was on my way but the park was beautiful. I love the city and especially Central Park in any weather, but if I absolutely had to pick a favorite, snow would win. There were even less people than out than usual, mostly people walking their adorable coat-wearing dogs. If you ever needed evidence that snow is magic to me, I felt compelled to wish everyone I passed a "good morning," which is the total opposite of my usual strategy of complete and total avoidance of all unnecessary human interaction.

I finally got a comfortable pair of snow boots and a proper winter jacket with an absurd Arctic-explorer faux-fur hood, so I could have stayed out all day. Unfortunately I had to get to work eventually (is anyone else consistently annoyed by the need to have a job and be a responsible adult?) but hopefully this was just a preview of the winter delights still to come.

Ellis Island Hospital: Part 1

On Saturday Jim, Katie, Grace and I took a tour of the abandoned hospital complex on the south side of Ellis Island. I had booked our tickets the day they became available—back on balmy October 1st. Saturday was very cold, but brilliantly sunny, and I'm not exaggerating when I say that the tour was the best tour I've ever taken in my entire life.

This was due partly to us lucking into a private tour when the other people scheduled for our time never showed up, partly due to our incredibly knowledgable, friendly and all-around awesome tour-guide, and partly due to the fact that the buildings are in such a beautiful state of decay.

The sunlight streaming in from open doors, broken windows and holes in the ceilings made every single angle more interesting than the last and as usual I took more photos than I thought humanly possible. I have a few more posts planned for the grounds and a wonderful art installation that was sprinkled around the buildings, but these are my favorites from the interior spaces.

The complex reminded me so much of Eastern State Penitentiary, and as much as I adored our tour-guide, I do wish I had had free reign and more time to spend taking photos. It's probably better that I had some parameters, however, because I most definitely would have just never left.

Our tour was long—even longer than the allotted 90 mins because our guide was that awesome—but I could have spent days inside of the crumbling autopsy room, mortuary, doctors' quarters, laundry, infectious disease wards and all of the other fascinating corridors winding around the island.

Surprising no one, my favorite room was the autopsy room with its four huge body freezers, sinks, lights and theater-like set-up. Ellis Island was a state-of-the-art medical facility and teaching hospital in its heyday and was one of the largest public health hospitals in the US.

In 1930 the hospital closed, and the entire complex was abandoned in 1954—this is the first time that the public has ever been allowed to tour the buildings. Some of the complex is still far too unstable to allow visitors and everyone must sign a waiver and wear a hardhat before beginning the tour.

I would absolutely take the tour again in a heartbeat. Even if the ticket price might seem pricey ($43), all of that money goes to Save Ellis Island, a group whose mission it is to help protect and preserve the historic hospital complex.

NYBG: Holiday Train Show 2014

Before my membership ran out at the end of the year, I made one last visit to the New York Botanical Garden for the Holiday Train Show. I went to the train show twice last year but they add buildings every year, so I wanted to see what was new.

My complaint from last year was the same this year: there are too many children and pushy parents, but that is to be expected. I wasn't able to go during a weekday this year, so I braved the crowds on a Saturday morning. It's all pretty organized, so you can still see everything and they do offer child-free bar car nights for evil child-hating hags such as myself. I renewed my membership, so maybe this will be the year I finally do the nighttime visit.

A lot of the buildings and bridges were repeats from last year, but there was enough new material and different arrangements to make it interesting. I've also seen a lot of the real-life versions of things since last year, so it's always a thrill to recognize a replica and compare it to my impression of the original.

This year I recognized Lyndhurst, Sunnyside, Kykuit, the Little Red Lighthouse, the Bartow-Pell mansion, the Jewish Museum, the Apollo Theater, the Old Stone House, Gracie Mansion, the Morris-Jumel mansion, and the TWA flight center specifically from my travels. There was also a special exhibit on World Fair structures, including the Unisphere and the New York State Pavilion and a display featuring famous mansions in the Hudson Valley area—both of which I've visited recently.

It was sad to see a particularly beautiful mansion only to read that it had been demolished years ago, and seeing the old Penn Station—even one made from twigs and leaves—is always bittersweet. I love the innovation and interesting use of natural materials, and anything in miniature never ceases to fascinate me.

The models are really extensive, with staircases and interior lighting and patterned roof tiles—all made from sticks, leaves, nuts and flowers. Although it's called a train show, and there are plenty of trains running around the displays, it's really more about the wonderful architecture and neighborhoods of New York. Like one of my other favorite places to visit—the New York Panorama—the Holiday Train Show is a little extravagant, a little kitschy and a whole lot of just-for-fancy.

New Museum: Chris Ofili

Saturday was rainy and miserable outside, so I decided to check out the Chris Ofili exhibition at the New Museum. I had never been to the New Museum before, or heard of Ofili, but after a coworker mentioned that he had gone and said that Ofili was famous for his elephant dung pieces, I thought it was worth a visit.

His most controversial work, The Holy Virgin Mary, is on display once again (15 years after Giuliani was so appalled by it he threatened to shut down the Brooklyn Museum), along with similar mixed-media canvasses, paintings and a few sculptures. The exhibition is small, occupying three galleries in the museum, and my only complaint is that I wish there were even more pieces on display.

After I got over the initial novelty of the strategically placed dung, I found myself drawn to his sculptures more than his canvas work. There were only a few sculptures scattered throughout, but his take on the Annunciation—with its beautifully contrasting textures and materials—was wonderful.

It's also hard not to love Shithead, a ball of his signature dung with a crude mouth containing real human teeth and topped with pieces of Ofili's own dreadlocks. Sometimes I become annoyed at the simplicity or shock-without-substance nature of some contemporary art shows or I just don't "get" them at all, but Ofili's work is intricate, powerful and definitely different than anything I've seen before.

Holiday Windows 2014: Saks Deco

In addition to the Fairy Tale-themed main window displays, the rest of Saks Fifth Avenue's windows are more fashion-focused with an Art Deco style. Before we arrived at Saks, I had just been telling Jim that I really didn't understand fur as fashion. We had seen a few people walking down Fifth Avenue in absurdly ostentatious full-length fur, and aside from all of the ethical reasons why fur is wrong, I thought it just didn't look great. Then we came to Saks, where nearly half of the ensembles in the Deco windows included a fur piece of some kind (I'm not sure if it's real or faux, but I'm guessing if it's at Saks, it's real).

I had to admit that the mannequins looked stunning, although it's hard not to love the sparkles, the swirling beadwork. the golds and silvers and the classic glamour that is inherent to the Deco style. The New York Times would be pleased to know that I spotted at least two monocles on the male mannequins, which—along with the pencil-thin mustaches—helped them look extra sinister.

These photos also ended up having that interesting double-exposure look since they were taken in the afternoon, with Rockefeller Center serving as the quintessential Art Deco architectural backdrop. There were at least two actual Rockettes costumes on display (the skyline dress and the feather headdress ensemble), which were neat to see in person and reminded me that I need to get to the Radio City show next year. I am a huge fan of classic, Christmas-themed displays or the insanely intricate themes at Bergdorf Goodman, but I found myself really appreciating and marveling at the truly just-for-fancy fashions at Saks.

Phoenix: Xu Bing at the Cathedral

On Saturday I didn't have many plans, so I wandered around for a while and stopped into the Cathedral of St. John the Divine. I was hoping to see their paper crane tree, which I did, but I had forgotten that the Cathedral was playing host to a huge sculpture installation from Xu Bing, called the Phoenix.

Constructed of pieces of discarded construction debris from Beijing, two birds (Feng and Huang) hang suspended in the Nave. They are enormous and really intricate, with bits of curling, twisting metal, fire extinguishers, fans, metal signs and pipes. They are both lit with hundreds of tiny lights, and paired with the already-jaw-dropping scale of the Cathedral it's quite an impressive sight.

I'm not super into installation pieces in historic spaces—especially when I just want to see the original space—but I've been to the Cathedral enough that this is a welcome change. Exhibitions like this are best seen in person so you can really experience the massive scale (like the Kara Walker Domino Sugar exhibit). Phoenix is on display until February and entrance into the Cathedral is free (suggested $10 donation).

Holiday Windows 2014: Saks Fairy Tales

This weekend I met up with Jim and we walked down Fifth Avenue, taking in the holiday window displays. I had already seen Bergdorf's, but I wanted to see how the others compared. While it's nearly impossible to beat Bergdorf's insanely intricate scenes, the windows at Saks are a worthy runner-up. I appreciate that they keep things orderly by installing a railing and even security guards, so you have a chance to properly take in each window without a million people bumping into you or lingering for hours.

Their main window displays this year had a fairy tale theme which aligned nicely with my recent Into the Woods soundtrack obsession (the movie version, but of course). We met up in the afternoon, which isn't the best time to see the windows but I did end up getting some pretty interesting photos.

I was getting frustrated with all of the reflections, but when I got home and looked through the photos I liked them so much more than I thought I would. You could do worse than to have Rockefeller Center as a backdrop, and most of the photos ended up looking like funky double-exposures.

I would love to see these all lit up at night, but after Sunday's Home Alone 2 and window tour, I think I'm all holiday-crowded out. I've definitely petted Christmas to death as I tend to do, and I'm right on schedule this year. Merry Christmas Eve!

Dyker Heights Lights 2014

Last year was my first year experiencing the tacky, extravagant joy that is Dyker Heights at Christmastime. The Brooklyn neighborhood is famous for its over-the-top lights and decorations, most of which are set against already ridiculous houses—waterfalls, stone lions, nude statues, elaborate columns, monogrammed stained glass windows and golden gates are not uncommon in Dyker Heights.

That being said, the Ohio girl in me knows that suburban light displays can get insane, and when you compare the lights in DH to ones across the country, they aren't majorly impressive. They are, however, somewhat of an anomaly in New York—it's strange to even be walking around a neighborhood that has actual yards.

I like that Dyker Heights is accessible by subway and you see so much more of the lights by being able to walk around, instead of driving through like you might do in the suburbs. This time around I spotted a lot of the vintage plastic light-up figures that I love so much—tons of Santas, Frostys, toy soldiers, nativity scenes, angels, a few reindeer and a Mrs. Claus or two.

I have very specific tastes when it comes to Christmas decorations, but generally the more simple and classic, the better. Simple and classic aren't really the words I would use to describe most of the decorations to be found in Dyker Heights, but I will always appreciate a certain level of tackiness and the willingness to go overboard no matter the season.

I really, really despise the recent influx of inflatables, although there is something so ridiculous about an inflatable nativity scene that I can't help but love them. The more worn and weird the decoration is, the more I love it as well, and it will be hard to beat the one-eyed choir boy for creepiest Christmas decoration of the season.

Most of the houses we remembered from last year, and it makes sense that they wouldn't change much from year to year. There is the "Vegas" house, which is covered in rope lights and has a twinkling Eiffel Tower in the front yard (?), the one that is positively lousy with inflatables and the one that looks like it has a face—but the one that has been the most memorable two years running is the candy house. There is something so whimsical, delicious and tiny bit dark (Hansel and Gretel, anyone?) about a real life house made up to look edible, with gumdrops and fruit slices and ice cream cones lining the porch and stuck to the brick walls.

I highly recommend that you take a trip out to Dyker Heights, if you've never been. It's a bit of a journey, but it's definitely worth it for the creepy Santas, pipe-smoking snowmen and sketchy choir boys—if you're really lucky you might even see an inflatable baby Jesus or two.