Carly again

Here is Carly again - no longer working at Goodbye Blue Monday - now devoting her life to her art - portrait painting. Photograph was taken at Goodbye Blue Monday on her nearly last day. The place is looking as inviting as ever and is soon to be serving twenty-seven varieties of toasted cheese sandwich. I suggested to Matthew, a GBM senior manager, a twenty-eighth. Welsh Rarebit, chedder cheese with the addition of Worcestershire sauce or mustard. There is an English colony in Bushwick, who I know are frequenters of GBM, so there will be takers.

Bushwick Diva

Every three or four minutes the light from the window that lit my subject faded to twilight as a subway past on the overhead track of the J train on Broadway. Teresa lives with her husband and shares the apartment with two other musicians. They were still asleep in their room because of working late. I crept around the main room taking care not to tread on or trip over guitars, cymbals, tom-toms, wires and microphones that littered the floor.

I whispered instruction, looked at her paintings that she kept in a cardboard box on a high shelf and listened to her telling me that she liked London and disliked America because there was no National Health Service here and it was difficult getting a Green Card. She grew up in Bari, Italy. Her English was flawless.

Leopard hug

We're talking to Carly (see July 5th and June 9th posting) in Goodbye Blue Monday and this lovely girl with a glowing complexion and tattooed forearm, plonks herself down on a stool and beams at us out of the gloom. She's followed soon by her friend who beams at us too. (Most of the beaming directed at Nicholas who was with us last weekend.)

I think they are both there to help keep the place running smoothly, a bit of waitressing and clearing up etc. Although the whole atmosphere of the place during the day seems more like home to the people there, with Carly doing the work of coffee making and keeping in touch with Matthew, the manager, by cellphone, as to the comings and goings. (See posting June 9th.)

Carly and friend relaxing

Carly and a friend having a smoke outside Goodbye Blue Monday. She is almost unrecognizable from the picture I took of her inside the club two weeks earlier. What is it? The clothes, lighting, mood...? We heard The Steve Pardo band with Lindley Cameron playing something swingy and lilting.

Manager of Goodbye Blue Monday

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.

Carly at Goodbye Blue Monday

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.