loisaida exteriors II

Posted on May 15, 2012 by ileana

the brick

Posted on May 1, 2012 by ileana

The brick wall in the hallway looks different now just from the coat of the stucco veneziano in bluish teal. It is as though the brick has come alive. Oona, ever the artist, said “Of course it has come alive, that is the magic of a complementary color”. I see the brick in all its glory for the first time. Every color in every brick and every stroke of the blue plaster pops. I can see nuance in the brick colors that before were in shadow. I see russet colors, greys, creams and even lavenders. This brick was probably laid between the mid-1800’s to the late 1800’s during the boom time in the Lower East Side of New York. As homesteaders in the early 1980s, we unearthed this brick in the interior walls. It was covered in a century’s worth of plaster and wallpaper. We chipped the layers away by hand with a hammer and chisel for a long time till we got to the pure brick. We didn’t work on our individual apartments, we worked collectively, so we were on plaster chipping duties on these walls for months.

I was shitty carpenter. I was bad at measuring and I wasted wood, so I was put on mortar duty. Mortar is more forgiving. The mortar crew was headed up by Smitty, who was an experienced construction worker and he trained a small team of us. We did all of the brickwork in the building. In the warm weather, homesteaders with older kids would bring them in and corral them in a safe part of the building while they worked. I kept an eye on them while I mixed cement. Then they started helping me mix. They made a game of it. We kept the mortar crew supplied with bucket after bucket of cement.

All around us buildings were coming down, victims of the criminal neglect of the landlords who had abandoned them. When a building was torn down, the homesteaders in the vicinity would spread the word and we would all head over there to rescue the brick. We had an enormous canvas mail cart that had been confiscated from a post office. The mortar crew would wheel this cart out and head over to the fallen building. We would find other homesteaders, squatters and gardeners there also rescuing the brick and the stone. We would pick through the rubble to find intact bricks and then stack them on the first floor like cordwood. Our building was restored with the bones of other buildings that didn’t make it.

homesteader, photo by David Schmidlapp. www.lapphoto.com

loisaida spring

Posted on April 2, 2012 by ileana

Loisaida is blooming. We have the highest concentration of community gardens in the US. Here is a peek at our spring.

budding weeping willow at the Plaza Cultural de Armando Perez on Loisaida Ave

jasmine blooms heavy with scent

Plaza Cultural de Armando Perez gazebo

pedro pietri – a remembrance march 21, 1944 – march 3, 2004

Posted on March 21, 2012 by ileana

Pedro Pietri, poet, playwright and co-founder of the Nuyorican Poet’s Cafe in Loisaida, New York.

Puerto Rican Obituary
Pedro Pietri

They worked
They were always on time
They were never late
They never spoke back  when they were insulted
They worked
They never took days off  that were not on the calendar
They never went on strike  without permission
They worked  ten days a week  and were only paid for five
They worked
They worked  They worked
and they died
They died broke
They died owing
They died never knowing  what the front entrance  of the first national city bank
looks like

Juan
Miguel
Milagros
Olga
Manuel
All died yesterday today
and will die again tomorrow
passing their bill collectors
on to the next of kin
All died  waiting for the garden of eden
to open up again
under a new management
All died
dreaming about america
waking them up in the middle of the night
screaming: Mira Mira
your name is on the winning lottery ticket
for one hundred thousand dollars
All died
hating the grocery stores
that sold them make-believe steak
and bullet-proof rice and beans
All died waiting dreaming and hating

Dead Puerto Ricans
Who never knew they were Puerto Ricans
Who never took a coffee break
from the ten commandments
to KILL KILL KILL
the landlords of their cracked skulls
and communicate with their latino souls

Juan
Miguel
Milagros
Olga
Manuel

From the nervous breakdown streets
where the mice live like millionaires
and the people do not live at all
are dead and were never alive

Juan
died waiting for his number to hit
Miguel
died waiting for the welfare check
to come and go and come again
Milagros
died waiting for her ten children
to grow up and work
so she could quit working
Olga
died waiting for a five dollar raise
Manuel
died waiting for his supervisor to drop dead
so he could get a promotion

Is a long ride  from
Spanish Harlem
to long island cemetery
where they were buried
First the train
and then the bus
and the cold cuts for lunch
and the flowers
that will be stolen
when visiting hours are over
Is very expensive
Is very expensive
But they understand
Their parents understood
Is a long non-profit ride
from Spanish Harlem
to long island cemetery

Juan
Miguel
Milagros
Olga
Manuel
All died yesterday today
and will die again tomorrow
Dreaming
Dreaming about queens
Clean-cut lily-white neighborhood
Puerto Ricanless scene
Thirty-thousand-dollar home
The first spics on the block
Proud to belong to a community
of gringos who want them lynched
Proud to be a long distance away
from the sacred phrase: Que Pasa

These dreams
These empty dreams
from the make-believe bedrooms
their parents left them
are the after-effects
of television programs
about the ideal
white american family
with black maids
and latino janitors
who are well train
to make everyone
and their bill collectors
laugh at them
and the people they represent

Juan
died dreaming about a new car
Miguel
died dreaming about new anti-poverty programs
Milagros
died dreaming about a trip to Puerto Rico
Olga
died dreaming about real jewelry
Manuel
died dreaming about the irish sweepstakes
They all died
like a hero sandwich dies
in the garment district
at twelve o’clock in the afternoon
social security number to ashes
union dues to dust

They knew
they were born to weep
and keep the morticians employed
as long as they pledge allegiance
to the flag that wants them destroyed
They saw their names listed
in the telephone directory of destruction
They were train to turn
the other cheek by newspapers
that mispelled mispronounced
and misunderstood their names
and celebrated when death came
and stole their final laundry ticket

They were born dead
and they died dead

Is time
to visit sister lopez again
the number one healer
and fortune card dealer
in Spanish Harlem
She can communicate
with your late relatives
for a reasonable fee
Good news is guaranteed

Rise Table Rise Table
death is not dumb and disable
Those who love you want to know
the correct number to play
Let them know this right away
Rise Table Rise Table
death is not dumb and disable
Now that your problems are over
and the world is off your shoulders
help those who you left behind
find financial peace of mind

Rise Table Rise Table
death is not dumb and disable
If the right number we hit
all our problems will split
and we will visit your grave
on every legal holiday

Those who love you want to know
the correct number to play
let them know this right away
We know your spirit is able
Death is not dumb and disable
RISE TABLE RISE TABLE

Juan
Miguel
Milagros
Olga
Manuel
All died yesterday today
and will die again tomorrow
Hating fighting and stealing
broken windows from each other
Practicing a religion without a roof
The old testament
The new testament
according to the gospel
of the internal revenue
the judge and jury and executioner
protector and eternal bill collector

Secondhand shit for sale
learn how to say Como Esta Usted
and you will make a fortune
They are dead
They are dead
and will not return from the dead
until they stop neglecting
the art of their dialogue
for broken english lessons
to impress the mister goldsteins
who keep them employed
as lavaplatos porters messenger boys
factory workers maids stock clerks
shipping clerks assistant mailroom
assistant, assistant assistant
to the assistant’s assistant
assistant lavaplatos and automatic
artificial smiling doormen
for the lowest wages of the ages
and rages when you demand a raise
because is against the company policy
to promote SPICS SPICS SPICS

Juan
died hating Miguel because Miguel’s
used car was in better running condition
than his used car
Miguel
died hating Milagros because Milagros
had a color television set  and he could not afford one yet
Milagros  died hating Olga because Olga
made five dollars more on the same job
Olga
died hating Manuel because Manuel
had hit the numbers more times
than she had hit the numbers
Manuel
died hating all of them
Juan
Miguel
Milagros
and Olga
because they all spoke broken english
more fluently than he did

And now they are together
in the main lobby of the void
Addicted to silence
Off limits to the wind
Confine to worm supremacy
in long island cemetery
This is the groovy hereafter
the protestant collection box
was talking so loud and proud about

Here lies Juan
Here lies Miguel
Here lies Milagros
Here lies Olga
Here lies Manuel
who died yesterday today
and will die again tomorrow
Always broke
Always owing
Never knowing
that they are beautiful people

Never knowing
the geography of their complexion

PUERTO RICO IS A BEAUTIFUL PLACE
PUERTORRIQUENOS ARE A BEAUTIFUL RACE

If only they
had turned off the television
and tune into their own imaginations
If only they
had used the white supremacy bibles
for toilet paper purpose
and make their latino souls
the only religion of their race
If only they
had return to the definition of the sun
after the first mental snowstorm
on the summer of their senses
If only they
had kept their eyes open
at the funeral of their fellow employees
who came to this country to make a fortune
and were buried without underwears

Juan
Miguel
Milagros
Olga
Manuel
will right now be doing their own thing
where beautiful people sing
and dance and work together
where the wind is a stranger
to miserable weather conditions
where you do not need a dictionary
to communicate with your people
Aqui Se Habla Espanol all the time
Aqui you salute your flag first
Aqui there are no dial soap commercials
Aqui everybody smells good
Aqui tv dinners do not have a future
Aqui the men and women admire desire
and never get tired of each other
Aqui Que Paso Power is what’s happening
Aqui to be called negrito
means to be called LOVE

MoRUS, the museum of reclaimed urban space

Posted on March 12, 2012 by ileana

A very exciting project is underway in Loisaida – a new living history museum that will focus on how the community came together to reclaim abandoned buildings and empty lots and created homes, cultural spaces and lush gardens in what was known as the “Take Back the Land Movement” of the late 70s and 80s. Check out the fantastic video and donate if you wish to get the museum up and running.

My daughter Camelia appears in the beginning of the video when she was little. She is the girl in the pink jacket with purple wings in the Jardin del Paraiso community garden.

Camelia’s tattoo. The girl has roots.

These previous posts have more information on the history. The Start of the Homestead and Pigeon Wars.

loisaida street art

Posted on March 2, 2012 by ileana

When I made wheat paste glue from scratch last week to make venetian plaster, I was reminded of the street posters that were the way that local artists and musicians advertised before email became the norm. Friends would call for assistance and we would hit the streets at night armed with posters, a bucket of wheat paste and a brush. We called it scumming. The messages change but the street poster will never die.

Posters recently seen in Loisaida, New York.

the storefront gate murals of loisaida

Posted on January 9, 2012 by ileana

In late 2009 the New York City Council voted to phase out the metal roll-down gates that cover storefronts all over New York City in favor of the gates that you see covering the storefronts inside malls. They say the roll-down gates invite graffitti and are “scary”. Not surprising, the “mall-ification” of New York City continues. We have many storefront gate murals in Loisaida. Luckily we have until 2026 until they are all gone.

5C Cafe

5C Cultural Center and Cafe

loisaida gate

Big Doves Blogspot.com

children of loisaida

Summit Bar gate

Much of the public art in the community is created by Antonio Garcia, the artist known as Chico. The Summit Bar gate before the cocktail hour.

brand new bobwhites

New restaurant Bobwhite Counter commissioned their gate way before they opened.

Mut Gallery’s gate mural.

wines for the holiday table from the east village wine geek

Posted on November 22, 2011 by ileana

Keith Beavers is passionate about wine. He loves to drink it and he loves to talk about it. He gets visibly excited when you walk in with your grocery bags, tell him what you are going to cook and ask would he please recommend a wine for it. He will then dart around the store waving his hands at bottles talking about fruit and tannins. He is geeky but accessible. It makes sense in the end, the wine is always excellent with the meal and you learn. He is the East Village wine geek and the purveyor of the Alphabet City Wine Company located right on Loisaida Avenue (Avenue C), and established in 2007.

I asked him for ideas about choosing wines for the winter holiday table. As we approach the Thanksgiving holiday, even though you see ads everywhere showing Thanksgiving turkeys with mashed potatoes and green bean casseroles, Keith points out that the US is multicultural and people bring dishes from their own cultures to the table. In his home, with an Italian background, lasagna was served alongside the turkey. In my family home, the turkey was served with white rice and black beans instead of mashed potatoes.

So, Keith suggests you choose a wine that will work with all the flavors on the table. For whites, aim for a crispy wine with nice fruit such as a Pinot Grigio or wine made from the Pecorino grape. A Chardonnay is also good but you should ask your wine merchant to suggest one with minimal oak. “If it’s got too much oak you will lose the complexity of the Chardonnay”, says Keith. For reds, he suggests wine with medium body, with a good balance of acidity and fruit. Ask for a red that is “fruit forward and dry”, that will give you a good balance for the variety of the food served. A Montepulciano will get you there or maybe a Pinot Noir.

Bottom line is find a wine merchant you trust says Keith. They should know all the wines in their store and should not be pretentious. They should not talk down to you and they should have a range of price points in their store. The majority of wines at Alphabet City Wine Company are between ten and twenty dollars. I asked Keith why he named the shop Alphabet City and he said because it grounds him to the community, it is not an abstract name, it is a place, it is tangible and rooted. Recently he was in a wine bar in Paris at 2am and he set his business card down on the bar for someone. He realized then that he carries Loisaida around with him.