Two regulars at Dizzy's, the tiptop diner in Park Slope. And then on their way to the park to read the paper.
Monday, June 22, 2009
Father's Day. We had no special plans, but late in the afternoon we drove over to Newburgh, NY and met a family on the street celebrating in their Sunday best. The eldest member was a man who had thirteen children, ranging from forty-five to fifteen. These two were somewhere down the lineage.
Dad (US Marine Veteran), Mum, three daughters, son in law and a niece, together for Father's day at the waterfront in Newburgh, NY . Married daughter and her husband back from Florida where he could no longer find work. Parents have lived in Newburgh all their lives.
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Andrew, the manager of the Bruised Apple, the second hand book shop in Peekskill, NY. saw "2001: A Space Odyssey" nine times when he was a teenager. They have an original poster for "A Clockwork Orange" in French in the store: not for sale.
Rain continues, which is probably O.K. for the mermaids at the Coney Island Parade, but we're giving Brooklyn a miss this weekend.
Roy, a friend of Caroline's from her Cooper Union days, studied film at New York University and got in touch recently. Stanley Kubrick is one of his favorite directors and said he was interested in this photograph. It is, as many of you will know, from "A Clockwork Orange". The picture came about because I was standing near Stanley when he leaned against the table and dropped into what appeared to be deep thought. I lifted my camera and took the shot.
It was earlier in that day, when Stanley was filming the action where Alex kills the Cat Lady, that the owner of the house complained about the noise of stamping feet and yelling. (Not knowing film companies she had foolishly continued to live on the second floor of the house.) Having seen the giant penis sculpture and the erotic paintings of nude women on the set that Stanley had created on her ground floor, she confronted him with the question, “What is this film about anyway?". Stanley scratched his beard for a second and replied, “Beethoven.”
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
As we walked from the glare of the sunlit street into Goodbye Blue Monday in Bushwick, Brooklyn, NY, we could see almost nothing. A lamp glowed here and there and the vague sign of daylight showed from the end of the room. I said, "Too dark for pictures," and left.
Out in the street again, Caroline said that she thought there was a garden and went back in to find out. She returned and beckoned me in saying that there was a garden and we could get a sandwich. The garden, in fact, was a junk yard, containing amongst other articles, cast iron wood stoves, TV sets, shopping carts, hand trucks and welding equipment.
On the left was an open ended shack with a dozen folding chairs in front of a stage, and rough wooden benches down two sides. On one of these benches sat a young man in his robe and pyjamas smoking a cigarette. He introduced himself as Matthew, the manager. He told us he lived across the street and this was a night place, hardly anybody came during the day.
A photographer and his assistant were photographing a model with a head of bushy brown hair that the assistant combed and brushed a lot between shots. When it looked right, the assistant became a wind machine by vigorously flapping a piece of cardboard, no doubt found in the garden, and no larger than an 11x14 print, close to the girl's head. It was remarkably effective and spread the hair just the right amount.
Caroline not only discovered the garden at Goodbye Blue Monday, but also Carly, who, as an artist, ("I only employ artists here," Matthew told us) had a job behind the bar. The lamp is one that was dimly glowing in the bar as we first entered.
As I was scrolling through the shots on my camera, Carly was looking over my shoulder and after many pictures of people had come up on the screen, she jumped in the air and exclaimed, "That's great." It was a picture of our cat Nutmeg sitting on a log with her tail hanging down.
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
Monday, June 1, 2009
We parked on Lorraine Street which runs through the projects in Red Hook. We'd heard about the wonderful food the street vendors sell outside the ball park. Anyway the streets were active which is more than you can say for the swankier streets of Red Hook, which are sometimes quite empty.
I spotted this youth as I stepped out of the car. I saw his back view turning a corner on the path into the projects. I ran after him and shouted just as he was about to enter the building. While still some distance off I waived my camera and as I reached him said that I wanted to take his picture. He stood there and I said, "Don't move, stay just like that," and he did. Caroline had meanwhile caught up with us and gave him a card and we said goodbye and thanked him very much.
I was very happy and we went to Botanica and had a cocktail and met a friendly couple. He had that morning been to B&H and bought a point and shoot Leica, which seemed like a nice camera. She was English and we got on to the subject of Pimm's which we all agreed we liked. I had first known about Pimm's at the age of about six in 1938 when my mother drank it mixed with gin and garnished with a slice of orange, cucumber and borage leaves. She and her friends drank it on summer evenings on the terrace of our house. I would crawl under the table and look up at some startling sights. It appeares that it was quite normal then not to wear very much at all under your flowered cotton dress.