Red Hook Star-Revue, November 2020, a pretty good issue in a not so hot year for news.

the red hook

REMEMBERING THE RED HOOK VOLUNTEERS, PAGE 7

STAR REVUE

NOVEMBER 2020 INDEPENDENT

FREE RED HOOK'S ONLY LOCAL PAPER

Without a transportation plan, Red Hook is screwed

more Barges

Red Hook Truck bypass

With four giant "last-mile warehouses" planned for our neighborhood, we need a HUGE infrastructure project - like the proposed bypass highway above, in order to keep trucks from overwhelming us.

Somebody needs to get on this right away.That's what government is for.

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STAR REVUE

Learning in the pandemic at South Brooklyn HS

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Editor & Publisher George Fiala Reporter

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by Nathan Weiser

S

outh Brooklyn Community High School, at 173 Conover Street, is a transfer high school that offers drop-outs a second chance. South Brooklyn is a partnership between the NYC Department of Education and Good Shepherd Services, which is a youth development, education, and family service agency.

The students who enter the school are overage and under credited, which leads to everyone needing different classes and having different schedules.

South Brooklyn is technically having a hybrid schedule but due to the varying schedules of the students and the credits that they come in with, all of the students are remote. Emily Schlesinger, a history teacher, said they wanted the approach taken to not be disruptive.

“We wanted to make sure that whatever we did was sustainable for the whole year whether we went remote at any point or not, which is good because when school was delayed two weeks we were already up and running in a remote capacity,” Schlesinger said.

The school itself is open and students are still welcome.

“The building is a place to get extra help in any of the subjects,” Schlesinger said. “Also, to get help with technology, to have a quiet place to work and get fed. A lot of them do not have a quiet environment at home.”

All of the students at South Brooklyn were given laptops at the beginning of the year and have the option of coming into the building two days a week.

They were given their remote schedule of zoom classes and if they are in the building or not they can access the course work remotely. They are given flexibility so it can fit their schedule.

South Brooklyn is using a house model, which means that every teacher is

the leader of 12 students and makes sure that those 12 students are accessing the course work an viewing the “live” zoom classes when they are supposed to.

“We are trying to use a process based approach right now where we are doing projects which are SBHS Peacemakers receiving certificates in the gym last year. bigger but less little work for the students who are working full time while they are trying to go ities but were like “screw math class” to school remotely,” Schlesinger said. and never went. They are all here for “We are trying to make it work syn- different reasons. They have very different transcripts.” chronously and asynchronously.”

Technology can be an issue, which makes the “house system” even more helpful. Having the model where every teacher is responsible for 12 students is how they try to address technological issues as they come up.

They are all at the school for different reasons and a trying to accumulate credits in this semester that is unlike any other. The school gives them options for attending “live remote classes at times suitable for them.

In the beginning of Schlesinger’s day, she might have to show the kids how to log in, access different areas of ILEARN or help them reset their password.

Schlesinger has 80 students in total who she teaches US history to, but they can go in-person with her at different times during the day, depending on their schedule, so she may teach the same lesson multiple times.

Teachers are in the building twice a week. When they are teaching their classes live, the students will be in different rooms accessing it or could be at home or anywhere else.

This school, which enrolls 160 students, is one that is for students who have tried at other schools and it did not work for them for various reasons.

SBCHS is on a trimester system, so the students can earn a year and a half of credit in one year at the school.

“Some of them are here because they were getting bullied and just avoided their classes,” Schlesinger said. “Some have struggled with reading and writing and have no English credits. Some are English geniuses and love human-

“They can zoom into me during period one, period three, period five or period seen, depending on what works for them,” Schlesinger said. “I also record one of those sections and put it up online in case they can not attend any of the sections.”

Even though Macs are provided to every student, an obstacle that has presented itself has been that some do not have Microsoft Word, so they have to change how they upload assignments from Word to Google Documents. This has been a learning curve for the students and teachers in this semester like no other.

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November 2020

we get letters Justice issue

Hi my name is , I am writing on Behalf of Battista “Benny” Geritano who is currently incarcerated for a crime he did not commit. We have court documents and police reports that will prove it. The corruption that took place by the NYPD and the court system is inhumane. I would really like to be able to speak to someone to get this conspiracy out. — Lori Balzano Editors Note: We have not investigated this claim, however, we do note from an old NY Post article that Benny was one of two persons that fought outside of the now closed Joe’s Superette. I used to distribute papers at Joe’s, and that day I happened to be on my way to drop off papers when I ran into this altercation. The other person was the owner of Lucali’s Pizza.

that has a high level history of the judges who are up for election? Wondering who to vote for in our district and figured I’d ask you! — Amanda Mai Yang

Tablet donation drive helps kids’ online schooling

The Brooklyn Bridge Rotary Club is collecting 50 new and used electronic tablets for elementary school children all over the borough. Any used tablet that is in good, usable condition and has a charger is welcomed.

The recipients are youngsters from low-income families and lack the equipment to manage their schoolwork during the pandemic. This project is designed to help close the literacy gap in Brooklyn and ensure educational access for our youngsters.

SEND YOURS TO GEORGE@REDHOOKSTAR.COM OR POST ON OUR WEBSITE, WWW.STAR-REVUE.COM.

demic subjects,” she added, “so it’s crucial help.” READ 718 offers free or low-cost literacy help, and during the pandemic, electronic equipment to attend virtual school and do homework on.

Self.” The Brooklyn Bridge Rotary Club’s meetings are the 2nd and 4th Wednesday of each month, from 6-7:30 pm (mainly on Zoom). To attend a meeting, email admin@BrooklynBridgeRotaryClub.org.

“If you don’t have a used tablet and would like to donate a new one to this tablet drive, the Amazon Fire tablet is ideal,” said Jeannie Jackson, president of the Rotary Club. “They cost around $90 and are very functional. If you have a Prime account, the shipping is fast and free.”

Two about Twin Peaks

The club is presenting the tablets on Nov. 30. Pick-up of used or new tablets can be arranged through Wednesday, Nov. 25, the day before Thanksgiving, by sending an email to admin@ BrooklynBridgeRotaryClub.org.

How are you doing? It’s been a while, but I wanted to let you know how much I really loved the latest Star Revue. Really enjoyed the Egyptian Museum article and am watching Twin Peaks right now! A very timely piece.

“We try to do a literacy project every year,” said Reyana McKenzie, the Rotary Club’s secretary. “This year we teamed up with READ 718, a 5-yearold non-profit start-up, which has made amazing strides in helping kids strengthen their reading skills to be at or above their grade level.”

You can also help by donating $80 to the Rotary club’s treasurer to purchase one via Venmo or Paypal (email for links and info). Or by purchasing a new Amazon Fire for $90 and having it shipped by Nov. 25 to The Brooklyn Bridge Rotary Club, 41 Schermerhorn St, box 311, Brooklyn NY 11201.

Had a quick question for you as well!

Do you know of a website or anything

“Poor reading skills affect students’ ability to perform well in all their aca-

Rotary has 35,000 clubs worldwide, and their motto is “Service Above

A loyal reader

Spike Lee’s movies routinely are value neutral in regards to race. Like Malcolm X for example, very matter of fact biopic, but there’s a total lack of politicking on Lee’s part. You aren’t told how to feel about black nationalism, NOI, anything. It is frustrating.

But lynch is doing a similar thing.

He’s diving into his subconscious and putting these characters onto film, he’s just reporting the facts man.—D Toucherson Do bad guys really need to be punished in fiction though? Because they don’t get punished most of the time in real life. So to me, it makes sense that they don’t get punished all of the time in Lynch’s world. He does punish his villains some of the time though, like in Blue Velvet or Inland Empire. I liked your article though, it had an interesting take on Lynch.—J Deady

Words by George Menchaca has been representing Red Hook in the City Council for the past seven years. During all of that time I have been writing about Red Hook in this newspaper.

We’ve never socialized, despite my invitations for dinner to talk about local issues. Despite an open invitation, I only was able to get him to write for us once, an op-ed explaining what I consider his shining moment in the neighborhood - his opposition to the ULURP proposal of the Oxford Nursing Home so they could move to Conover Street.

This was the second time he’s called.

The first was nearly two years ago, after the NY Daily News ran a front-page story about his firing of three staffers just before Christmas, allegedly on the advice of a life coach he employs.

I asked our reporter Brett Yates to find out more. After he made a few calls, word got back to the councilman and he called to request I stay away from

her personal life.

This time, I thought he might have been reading my mind – did he know what I was thinking about his recently announced mayoral run? No – he called me to ask for a donation.

He started out by asking whether I heard that he was running. That was kind of a shock – did he forget what I do for a living? I assured him that I had. He told me that that he wants to continue the great work he has done for Red Hook for the whole city.

That was perfect since I was already thinking about writing this column.

I told him that I was working on a piece for this issue, and getting a list of his accomplishments would be perfect.

He said no problem, and would I like to contribute $50?

I said I would think about it, and waited in vain for his list. I did receive multiple emails asking for donations, including one which mentioned an incident he was involved in at the Red Hook early voting location. He and some fellow politicians were hang-

HOTD0G AND MUSTARD BY MARC JACKS0N e YOU DAVe iS BHAV eeN IN THE ! !! FUMiNG! BATH AGAiN?

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This incident became fodder for a solicitation later that day, where he said: "The NYPD must issue clear guidelines and not escalate situations at the polls.

As Mayor, Carlos will do a lot more to protect our communities including defunding the police and reinvesting the money into city and social services that protect our communities’ health and safety."

Trust me, as one who has been a critic of the 76th in the past - the last thing they are looking to do is to suppress local voting.

One of the things about running a local newspaper is that the longer you do it, the larger perspective you get on things. Not everything, but a lot.

FEMA money that was pledged after Hurricane Sandy is being used to protect the Houses in the event of another storm. The result will be a resilient campus with many aesthetic improvements, as well as a state-of-the art power plant that will provide heat and hot water in a much improved manner.

However, all this good stuff is still relatively unknown to many and instead people complain about the inconvenience and disturbed environment.

In the past, Carlos would marshall the relevant agencies and force them to hold public meetings to let everyone know what’s going on in their neighborhood.

You could blame COVID for the lack of public meetings, yet Brad Lander, Jo

(continued on next page)

I criticized Carlos a few months ago

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CHeCK OUT MY COMICS AT WWW.MARCMAKeSC0MiCS.C0.UK - MENTION ReDH0OK TO GET A SIGNED DRAWiNG!

Red Hook Star-Revue

in these pages for not working as hard at representing Red Hook as he had during his first term. In particular, in that case, at not doing enough to let residents of the Red Hook Houses understand what was happening around them.

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ing around a table set up by Red Hook Relief. The Board of Election supervisor happened to be there taking care of a handicap access issue, and determined that the table violated electioneering rules. A 76th precinct cop patiently but firmly asked them to move, but was met with objections.

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couple weeks ago I was surprised to see the name “Carlos Menchaca” pop up on my phone’s Caller ID.

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©COPYRIGHT 202O MARC JACKSON AND WEiRD0 COMiCS #2O

November 2020, Page 3

COLUMN (continued from previous page)

Anne Simon (two other nearby politicians), not to mention the 76th Precinct, have been able to figure out how to hold public meetings in person.

Menchaca came into office touting participation, particularly Participatory Budgeting (PB), but can anyone name a completed PB project? Or a creative one?

Project Expos are supposed to be part of PB. Yates wrote last year: “If any of this stuff actually happens in District 38, we at the Star-Revue aren’t hearing about it.”

A big issue during his first term was a Parks Department plan to build a giant bathroom in the modest Valentino Pier Park. Somebody had asked about having facilities that parkgoers could use, and Parks responded with a plan for a huge $2 million monstrosity. Carlos arranged for a community dialogue with Parks, and so they agreed to hold off. The deal was that we wouldn’t lose the money – it would be used for something we really wanted, which Menchaca's office would arrange, but it’s been five years and nobody mentions it any more.

The situation with our ballfields is pretty poor. They were closed due to the existence of past pollution. They’ve been under construction for years and years. In the meantime, we all get to see a huge construction project right next to the Bay Street ballfields take only a year or so to build.

When all is said and done, Menchaca’s legacy in Red Hook will be trucks. In

addition to the above warehouse, another is going up on one side of IKEA, and Amazon will be building at 280 Beard. In case people on the Pioneer Works side of town think they are getting away with something, UPS is planning a giant facility in the area stretching from the Cruise Terminal to Valentino Park. That reminds me —instead of that nursing home, we are getting another storage facility.

In fact, he’s been in these pages.

The point is that Menchaca has had no real vision for this neighborhood. He is kind of an accidental politician, and will leave office with the same mantra that he came in with – participate. But please... no specifics.

On the evening of November 14, fifteen Brooklyn artists will descend upon the banks of the Gowanus Canal like the elusive black-crowned night heron.

The free event, dubbed Gowanus Night Heron, is a pop-up exhibition of work spanning photography; collage; drawing; spoken word; and light, video, and sound installation. Staged outdoors, in parked moving trucks on the lot of Rabbit Movers, this intimate and ephemeral gathering of local artists is a testament to the creativity and community spirit that sets Brooklyn apart.

Gowanus Night Heron was founded by artists Bonnie Ralston, Miska Draskoczy, and Kasia Zurek-Doule.

JACQUI PAINTER

Back in the beginning of the summer, NYCHA construction disturbed an important piece of plumbing, and the Red Hook Houses were left without water for a number of days. A small group that was started at the beginning of the pandemic, focused mostly on pantry operations, sprung into action, and with a spurt of publicity led by Jacqui Painter, collected and distributed multiple tons of water to those affected.

We welcome her hat in the ring and look forward to hearing what she has to say about Red Hook as the race to succeed Carlos shifts into full steam next spring. — George Fiala

NEWSBRIEFS: Gowanus night heron

We had never heard of her before, but she claimed to be a local. We saw online that she had spent a lot of time in the Midwest and in addition to being a graphic artist had also worked for a political lobbying organization.

Participating artists (subject to change): Bill Bowen, Nikola Bradonjic, Diego Briceno, Jessica Dalrymple, Valeria Divinorum, Miska Draskoczy, Ari Eschoo, Rich Garr, Jovana Obradovic, Bonnie Ralston, Niklas Ramo, Tamara Staples, Arden Sudyam, Brad Vogel, and Kasia Zurek-Doule.

Well, she has just declared herself as candidate for the city council in a race to replace Carlos Menchaca next year. So we did a little more digging. It turns out that did indeed grow up here. Her father is Robert Painter, one of the founders of the volunteer Red Hook Boaters.

Event space has been graciously donated by Rabbit Movers, a licensed moving company supporting and supported by its own collective of artists living and working in New York City.

Food and drink will be sold on-site by neighboring bar Lavender Lake, locat-

ed at 383 Carroll St. Please note: Mask wearing and social-distancing protocols will be strictly enforced.

426 President Street @ Bond Street Sat., Nov. 14, 2020, 6-9 pm.; rain or shine For further information contact Mark Yarm at gowanusnightheron@gmail.com.

Graffiti comeback

Brooklyn Borough President Eric Adams joined Council Member Robert Cornegy, Jr. and DPH Property Maintenance Service (DPH), a Brooklynbased residential and commercial maintenance company, to remove graffiti from the exterior of A1 Auto Repair Service, a Black-owned business on Atlantic Avenue.

In recent months, parts of Atlantic Avenue and other areas of the city have experienced a noticeable uptick in graffiti, which has heightened quality-of-life concerns for residents and merchants already suffering from the COVID-19 pandemic. The presence of graffiti can lower foot traffic along commercial corridors and contribute to public safety concerns among residents. Earlier this year, the City indefinitely suspended its popular $3 million Graffiti-Free NYC programdue to a significant budgetary shortfall.

Borough President Adams announced a $5,000 grant for the Flatbush Development Corporation to further promote clean-up efforts in their catchment area. Additionally, he called for increased support for groups like Groundswell to create communityreflective murals

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Page 4 Red Hook Star-Revue

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®

November 2020

‘We are COVID orphans’: Grieving locals demand apology from governor

A

by Erin DeGregorio

bout 50 protestors gathered together on the cold afternoon of Oct. 18 to remember elderly loved ones who had succumbed to COVID-19 and demand a sincere apology from State Governor Andrew Cuomo.

or we’re going to shine a light.’”

The protest occurred outside the Cobble Hill Health Center (CHHC), nearly a week after the governor’s book, “American Crisis: Leadership Lessons from the COVID-19 Pandemic,” was published.

Fifty-five people reportedly died from COVID-19 at CHHC, according to New York officials in early April. At that time, at least 14 other New York nursing homes had also recorded more than 25 COVID-19-related deaths.

Prior to Norman’s passing, the Arbeeny family raised money and donated thousands of personal protection equipment to CHHC. The family made three donations during the pandemic.

Statewide and local numbers

During the rally, a silver casket from Cobble Hill Chapel was wheeled in front of the Cobble Hill facility. The casket was filled with 6,500 copies of Cuomo’s book cover, which symbolized the reported number of New Yorkers who died in nursing homes from COVID-19.

In a spreadsheet compiled by Long Term Care Community Coalition and based on data from DOH, there had been 6,692 reported COVID-19 deaths in long-term care facilities, as of Oct. 12. By that date, 855 deaths had been reported in Kings County—841 of which were in nursing homes.

Many at the rally blamed this number on Cuomo’s March 25 executive order that ordered nursing homes to admit recovering COVID-19 patients. The order, which was reversed on May 10, was intended to free up hospital beds, as hundreds of New Yorkers were dying each day then.

“The families in front of you, the families you represent deserve to know the truth,” Danny said, directing his comments to Cuomo. “If somebody made a mistake in all that was going on – and it was a crazy time – we would forgive.”

“Unfortunately some of us who lost loved ones were not able to see our loved ones in a casket. I was one of them,” Peter Arbeeny said. “Anybody who has pictures of lost loved ones is more than welcome to come up and put them in the casket. This is everyone’s funeral.”

Peter’s brother Danny stood by the casket with a microphone and speaker.

“We’re here simply to want an apology,” he said. “Unfortunately, our governor has not given us an apology.”

In just one week in April, five of Danny Arbeeny’s family members died – four from COVID-19, three of whom were in nursing homes. At the same time, Danny explained, his in-laws were forced to shelter-in-place at his house after also contracting the virus – from which they later recovered.

Danny and Peter’s father Norman, a Korean War veteran who lived just a block and a half away from CHHC, died from COVID-19 at the age of 89. They said he passed away in his family’s century-old home, after being released from the Cobble Hill facility where he most likely contracted the virus.

“How hard is it not to get angry, to get really mad when that happens?”

Danny rhetorically asked. “It’s almost impossible, but it is possible. My family and I got together and said, ‘We’re either going to scream at the darkness

Red Hook Star-Revue

He continued, saying, “Maybe some wouldn’t forgive, but we certainly would. Then we can move on and celebrate the good things [in life].”

The trick was on me Voices for Seniors co-founder Vivian Zayas attended on behalf of her grassroots organization, whose goal is to fight for the vulnerable and their substandard care. Voices for Seniors not only asked for accountability during the rally, but for an investigation with subpoena power to be launched in New York.

Zayas told the crowd that she, too, suffered a loss during the pandemic.

Her mother, Ana Martinez, was in a Long Island nursing home undergoing physical therapy, but died on April 1 at a nearby hospital after contracting the virus.

“It’s a day that we usually celebrate April Fools, but the fool and the trick was on me. My mother was supposedly ‘fine’ at a nursing home when I continually called and tried to get the status of her health. We were reassured consistently that she was fine,” Zayas explained. “‘Fine’ was that on the morning she was supposed to be discharged, she actually had a collapsed lung and was on a respirator. …

She got trapped and died.”

She continued: “We would like that, in any circumstance, our seniors should be safe in any long-term care facility … not just the ones who have already

died, but the seniors of the future. If I have the good fortune of becoming a senior and should need services at a long-term care facility or rehab facility, I would like to know that, no matter where I end up, I’m going to be safe and treated with integrity and respect.”

Families share pain For Michelle Smith, standing on Henry Street was her first time being out in months. “It’s just really hard because my mother just passed, so I’m just taking it all in,” she noted before the rally began. “I guess this will help with my grieving period.”

Before the pandemic struck, her mother was assigned to a rehabilitation center located within a nursing home and was reportedly doing well. However, when Smith couldn’t visit her mom due to the mandate, her mother’s health began to decline.

Her mother was diagnosed with COVID-19 on Mother’s Day. She passed away a week later.

Smith hopes families can visit their loved ones in the future.

“There were several deaths and it’s about acknowledging the voices of not only those who can no longer be heard, but family members who still have family in the nursing homes and haven’t seen them since March,” she continued. “I really hope they can see their parents when I couldn’t see mine.”

Haydee Pabey and her two teenagers traveled to Brooklyn from Westchester County, showing their support. Pabey said that, although her mother died several months ago, her family was still grieving. She also noted that they never had the opportunity to properly lay her to rest.

“If we don’t speak about what happened, it’s like it didn’t happen and that our deceased loved ones’ lives didn’t matter,” she said. “All of our family members’ lives mattered and that’s why we’re here and we’re supporting each other.”

Aram Bauman took deep breaths and tried holding back tears as he spoke about his parents at the rally.

His mother was in and out of CHHC for nearly two years with COPD and dialysis. During the spring, she went to a dialysis treatment with a fever and was sent to the hospital.

then she shows up … in this box that came in the mail,” Bauman said, while holding up a box that contained his mother’s cremated remains.

“Two weeks later, my Pops got sick.

Seventeen days after that, he passed away. I still don’t have his ashes. But, at least with him, we were able to put an iPad in his room to speak to him every night.”

Bauman's parents were Michael and Dnynia Armstrong, publishers of the beloved Brownstone Brooklyn newspaper, The Phoenix.

Janice Dean, senior meteorologist at FOX News Channel, also spoke to the crowd. Her husband’s parents had been treated in separate eldercare facilities during the lockdown. Dean’s mother-in-law was diagnosed with the virus, but died in a hospital. In her father-in-law’s case, Dean told WION News that her family didn’t even know of his declining health until they were notified on a Saturday afternoon in late March. They received a phone call three hours later that same day, learning he had passed away. Dean also said that her family didn’t know he had died from the virus until they received his death certificate.

“The governor likes to say this is all about politics, but it’s not. It’s about accountability and families,” Dean said. “I didn’t know any of you, but now I feel like you’re part of my family because we’re all going through exactly the same thing – and that is grieving our loved ones.”

She, like many others, is calling for an independent bipartisan investigation with subpoena power to be launched, rather than a book launch.

“What governor has the time to write a book during the middle of a pandemic? What governor gets to profit off of the 30,000+ that have died?”

Dean asked. “That’s how I look at it. I believe everyone that has bought that book, unfortunately, is profiting off our loved ones’ deaths.”

“That’s the last time anybody heard from her, basically. And

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November 2020, Page 5

GOWANUS UPDATE

by Jorge Bello As the city prepares to move forward with its plans to rezone Gowanus, community members worry about what that will mean for the Gowanus Canal cleanup. According to the environmental impact study produced by the Department of City Planning (DCP) earlier this year, the amount of combined rainwater and sewage that overflows into the canal is projected to increase almost tenfold after the rezone—from 178,795 to 1,977,302 gallons per day. During a recent virtual meeting with the Environmental Protection Agency (EPA), the federal entity overseeing the cleanup, local organizers expressed fears that such a dramatic increase would recontaminate the canal after it’s been remediated.

That would happen anyway if the EPA grants the city an extension request on the construction of the two retention tanks meant to stop the overflows. The city’s Department of Environmental Protection (DEP), charged with completing the tanks, made the request in June, but the EPA has yet to decide whether it will grant it. If it does, the city is bound by a previous agreement to remove any solid waste that reaccumulates at the bottom of the canal in the years that it takes to complete the tanks after 2023, the year the EPA will finish its remediation works.

But at the virtual meeting, members of the Gowanus Community Advisory Group, which liaises with the EPA, were also concerned that, even if completed on time, the tanks will

be overwhelmed by the increase in sewage overflow resulting from the rezone. In an October 27th letter to the DEP and DCP heads, EPA Regional Administrator Pete Lopez reminded the city that it must ensure that the area’s redevelopment does not “compromise the effectiveness of the Gowanus Canal remedy.” Members of the advisory group wanted to know what power the EPA has to hold the city accountable to this.

Christos Tsiamis, the EPA engineer leading cleanup, assured them that the city must detail how it plans to contend with the increase in sewage overflow in a new version of its environmental impact study. “If we make the assessment that these additional discharges recontaminate the canal, then we will require additional infrastructure measures,” says Tsiamis. And even though the EPA can only participate as an observer in the city’s upcoming land use meetings on the rezone, he added, the federal agency can avail itself of additional oversight powers under its Superfund role. “We have not come this far with all of you,” chimed in Brian Carr, the EPA’s assistant regional counsel, “to drop the ball and start celebrating before we get to the end zone.”

NYCHA NEWS

by Nathan Weiser

The New York City Housing Authority (NYCHA) Disaster Recovery department and the Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) held a virtual meeting on Thursday about the soil sampling at the Red Hook Houses related to Sandy construction.

There was also an update about the two recent gas outages at the Red Hook Houses caused by the construction that has been happening.

Joy Sinderbrand, who is the vice president of NYCHA’s Recovery and Resilience Department, updated everyone about the outages.

The first disruption happened during excavation a few weeks ago when the contractor hit a plastic gas pipe that led to the loss of natural gas in two buildings. NYCHA was able to restore gas for heat and hot water but they were not able to fix the gas for cooking.

“We try to avoid this kind of impact and it is a top priority for safety across the program,” Sinderband said. “We want to use this as an opportunity to get even better and more stringent on our protocols.

She added that there is new coordination between NYCHA and national grid. In addition to doing utility markings of their drawings, they are sending staff the the site before any excavation so they can locate the valve boxes.

“We (capital projects) have been working closely with operations to stay up to date with the gas pipe replacement project,” Sinderband said.

NYCHA has secured $700,000 for the two buildings. They have completed a site visit for scoping, have awarded the project to a vendor and have given the vendor a notice to proceed.

The company, RJ Bruno, is very familiar with gas pipe replacement.

Property management is using Covid safe methods of communication to communicate with Das and residents. Sinderbrand said when they get updates from property management they send those out.

The second recent outage was on November 4. This most recent one was a water pipe break in an area where there had been digging about one week before.

“This was hand digging and that hand digging was about four feet above the water pipe,” Sinderband said. “This represents a whole new level of sensitivity of infrastructure because it is hard to get more careful than hand digging especially since the hand digging was not near the pipe that had the break.”

Minimal vibrations caused this disruption that happened on November 4 leading to building three being without water for a few hours at night.

“We were able to make this emergency repair,” Sinderband said. “We were able to do it as quickly as we could because of the new closer coordination between NYCHA and DEP.” They are working together to make sure that when unforeseen issues arise that the right staff and materials are at the site as soon as possible. NYCHA capital projects works closely with property management to make sure water is available during unplanned emergencies.

The company was on site on Thursday, November 6, doing prep work and waiting for the permits for next steps.

To-Go drinks & food

& Reservations for seating area

Food

Featuring wagyu beef cocktail weiners and a house bourbon mustard and gin mayonnaise dip

m

4 - 11 p Page 6 Red Hook Star-Revue

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November 2020

Remembering Hurricane Sandy October 29, 2012

The story of the Red Hook Volunteer Jams

by Gene Bray

by Gene the Danicnng MachineHurricane Sandy was a storm of the century. Which means these days a storm that seems to two or three times a year.

But that’s another story. Our story is about Sandy and Red Hook, Brooklyn.

Sandy put us under two feet of water, plunged us into darkness for three weeks and thrust us into the national spotlight.

Two young brothers from Michigan, Jay and Vaughn, saw Red Hook on the TV and began packing two suitcases and rounding up money. Their Black father knew not to waste his breath on his stubborn sons. But their mother, a Native American, looked at it as a test young braves have always done. And Jay and Vaughn had surely done their share. She was proud her sons were going.

Soon some friends came with a car and they were off. A young black miss from Carolina, Tashanda saw the news and told her folks she was going to NY. They were against it, but she too was stubborn. They also knew she was not foolish, so they gave their blessing. And she left her comfortable home, got in her 20 year-old little red Ford and was soon heading north.

All first time in NYC. They all came to help, not sure how; but they knew they would figure that out. And of course they came for adventure. And they all ended up at 360 Van Brunt.

The bay on Red Hook was showing troubling signs that morning. Full of raging whitecaps. And the eye and the full moon were still 12 hours away. By noon the bay seemed possessed by the devil himself. The water looked terrifying. Deadly. And the barometer

Red Hook Star-Revue

readings were plunging to the lowest ever recorded. We didn’t know what low pressure meant. But we sure felt what it meant. Something we had never seen was Comin.

I headed up to my high-rise apartment in the projects as the eye was nearing.

At about dinnertime the shrieking of the street cats startled me. I braced myself and looked out the window. It was like a hallucination. Water slowly pushing in. From everywhere. Soon it was flowing down the ramp leading to the basement. And the water just kept coming and I just kept looking; like at a car wreck. And constantly checking back to the ramp. You didn’t have to be a mechanic to see this turnin upside down soon.

But the electricity stayed on as the water kept surging inward. “Something's gotta blow” I thought. At 9 the lights did just that. By the next morning the water was gone. And so was the water in my sink. And the light in my refrigerator.

Well; the cats were back though, acting as if nothing had happened. They were living good now, as people who had always ignored them were now leaving cans of cat food everywhere.

Most of them stayed nearly full.

Yes, Sandy took our electricity and water. But she left us with the freshest air in a century. Each breath was like Manna. Nourishing us for the struggle ahead. The dark nights were comforting to me. I began falling asleep around 9. Sleeping straight through the night and awakening at dawn refreshed but also confused because of vivid dreams easily remembered.

Sleep became an exciting gift, a jour-

ney to the unknown. Like a nightly LSD trip.

Soon, spotlights went up outside my window, and my apartment felt like center field at Yankee Stadium. Cardboard in the windows didn’t quite work, as one shaft of light lit my place

"By the next morning the water was gone. And so was the water in my sink. And the light in my refrigerator." with a fake glow. But soon I got it right and brought back the darkness.

At dusk I began thinking thoughts impossible with lights and glowing screens and noise.

So anyway; 2 days later Jay and Vaughn walked up to 360 Van Brunt and saw Scott the landlord in a daze, working in slow motion. "Need some help?" Jay asked. Scott looked at these 2 kids in spring jackets carrying suitcases and his face lit up. He chuckled; and Jay

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and Vaughn beamed smiles. And the daze Scott was in vanished. Vaughn said “Yea we came from Michigan to help out.”

And Scott realized that’s what his beloved Red Hook needed. A headquarters for help. And these 2 kids needed a place to drop their suitcases.

The deal was sealed and the rent was waived. To be discussed later.

And the large sign Jay put in the window immediately started helping all who passed by. The Red Hook Volunteers.

Next day Tashanda saw the sign and waited for a volunteer to appear. Soon Jay and Vaughn walked up. Dirty, sweaty, worn out from workin clean outs. When they saw a very cute young Black girl get out of a car with North Carolina plates, they were overjoyed.

Never have dirty sweaty young men been so eager to meet a pretty girl.

She was hired on the spot and given the cot and the back room. Pay to be discussed later. Adventurous young kids are very adaptable. Another hire was Alan, a white kid from Park Slope.

The pay fluctuated depending on how many cleanouts they did. They were all hard workers but believed all work and no play was not the only way to live. It was weeks of candlelight and sponge baths. Scott saw how much this gang was helping, not by clean outs; anyone can do that. But with the twinkle in their eye and their easy goin humor, making it much easier for people to throw out their possessions from cold dark rooms.

When the electricity came back, local businesses got back to business

(continued on next page) November 2020, Page 7

The story of the legendary Red Hook Volunteers (continued from previous pate) and 360 Van Brunt was the most successful of all. Not financially as the rent was still waived. But spiritually.

Electricity meant Phase 2 of the healing. First order of business by the Volunteers....The Friday Night Jams. Scott had many guitars gathering dust and was on cloud 9 as he dusted them off and laid them out. Tambourines. maracas, djembes, even a cow bell took up residence. And front and center; a drum set. 360 Van Brunt has huge windows in the front, and on Friday nights the doors were open and the music coming out was weird and crazy. Downright hypnotizing.

People were confused. “Is it great or horrible?” Actually it was both, because great players were playing with bad players. A new musical genre was born. Flowing from good to bad throughout the night. Sometimes from minute to minute. But always full of feeling. No one was critical of another’s playing. It was refreshing for veteran players to just have fun. And their showed eyes showed that. Yes all of the eyes inside were inviting. Very welcoming.

360 looks like one of the many art galleries on Van Brunt with huge widows. But there was no art in there, and the people inside were all different.

Young and old, rich and poor, white and black and everything in between.

Old timers in worn out clothes next to young kids dressed up so nice. An unclassifiable hodgepodge.

And no charge. People passing by were dumbfounded. “What the hell kinda business is this”?

Rudy the homeless virtuoso trombone player. He was a pioneer of the instrument called the Air Trombone [with a stunning sound to boot]. And Francois, a professional trombonist with a real trombone. Alan, our white bass playin drummer with rhythm and 2 foot dreads. Instruments constantly changing hands. No distinction between musicians and spectators. Singers and dancers amping up the players. A lady vocalist who would just scream. Didn't need a mike that one. She quickly learned it was best to come late. An eye-opening crowd pleaser she was. And at the bus stop she was always so quiet, flashing me a knowing smile.

And Scott could see the healing beginning. For people from the projects who felt unwelcome in many businesses in their gentrifying neighborhood. For those who didn’t have basements or possessions to throw out. And anybody else too. Himself included.

It might start with someone on the African drum. Then Jerome would sit down and start strummin rhythm on his guitar. Jerome was always ready.

Always the first to arrive and the last to leave. Then Doug would pull out the first harmonica that he ever bought. Which was a few days ago. He quickly learned that songs are played

Page 8 Red Hook Star-Revue

in different keys and soon bought 6 more. Then Scott would dance in with a devilish grin and hoist the fiddle to his shoulder. He was giddy, ready to erupt.

It was now T minus 1 minute and counting. And if Tashanda strolled to the drums it was 10,9,8. As she sat down 7,6,5. As she wiggled in the seat, getting a solid foundation 4,3,and a deep breath and a smile which meant “I'm gonna nail this” and 2,1....”Blast Off” and “Call the SWAT TEAM!” Sitting at the drums and bouncin up and down. Sittin and dancin at the same time. The drumsticks became part of her body and she used everything from the top of her head to the bottom of her feet to drive them into, or bounce them off of, the skins. Somtimes hard sometimes soft. Both feet tappin like Thelenious Monk.

You could see her temperature rising as her brown skin slowly began glistening and taking on a pinkish hue.

Eyes half closed and mouth half open.

The look of a lover. And her love was rhythm. Guitars. trombones. fiddles, dancin feet, sidewalk strollers; all were capsized in her wake.

But she never hogged the drums.

A dozen different butts sat in that seat every night. All with their own rhythm. And all better than the drum machines we hear on our mp3s.

Polite and proper ladies who came late. Maybe had a drink and were soon swaying their hips like belly dancers. And short haired, clean shaven men....even they were tryin to look like belly dancers.

Scott would eagerly give guitar lessons to anyone any time. Jay took to the slide guitar quickly. Scott said its the easiest string instrument to learn but I think his teaching style had more to do with it. And Avi from India who had never seen an electric guitar and soon was blowin us away. But those two were more interested in figuring out how to prosper with their wits.

And they sure had some wits.

Doug began taking harp lessons online, learning tongue blocking and the 12 bar blues. But at the jams he forgot all that and just wailed. This was the atmosphere for learning music. Jay emceeing to a funky back beat, going slowly around the room, giving everyone a chance to shine in the spotlight.

With the cheering rhythmic support of all; why it was impossible to hit a bad note. You could learn how to play there quicker in one night than a year with a critical music teacher makin you nervous focusing on mistakes.

There were no mistakes here. Only bridges. And Scott saw real healing taking place in Red Hook and it was at his place. The kind that happens in a precious few churches where preachers sermonize about integrity, tolerance and forgiveness in worn out clothes. Who welcome free rides and free Sunday dinners.

Unlike most of todays preachers in

Musicians really into it at 360 Van Brunt.

silk suits and rolex watches who give sermons about giving your tithe, and then leave in BMWs. Doug was a middle aged white guy who moved to Van Brunt Ave a year to the day after Sandy. After settling in, he and his two sons headed for the projects to try to score some weed.

They passed by a Volunteer who asked these strangers “How ya doin”and somethin about him got an honest response from Doug. “We’re tryin to get some smoke.” “No problem” and they were invited to the office and the shutters were drawn.

These kids came to help but they weren’t Mormons, some having a healthy appreciation for mind expanding plants. When Doug and his sons got home they looked out their window to see the first Barnacle Parade pass by.

But weed was never smoked at the jams. That’s disrespectful to those who don’t smoke. But a whisper and a nod led to the back room for that.

360 was open every day; a drop-in center for anyone, any problem. The staff quickly grew, all unpaid volunteers. But getting money from grants was hard for these wild eyed youth.

Government agencies feel more comfortable dealing with people in suits, I guess. But they never stopped tryin.

The action slowed and the staff dwindled. And Scott could see and feel the end of the road was nearing. He used some tough love to push them off to new adventures.

I remember the last jam. At 2 am the instruments were put down and the shutters closed. And the dozen or so who were left; the heart and soul of the jams, moved to the back room and a bottle was opened.

At 4 am the talking was over. We sat mostly in silence. Silence is considered a gift to Native Americans. At dawn we left the last jam. The only holdout was Vaughn, who wanted to stay in Red Hook. More tough love from Scott who locked the front door to him. But the backroom cot was still

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available.

Waiting for the bus at 6 in the morning across from 360 I often saw Vaughn.

Slowly swaying down the street coming from who knows where. Still in his spring jacket, oblivious to the bitter cold. Stopping to light a cigarette. He looked like a defiant Cherokee warrior; unwilling to submit to the white man’s 9 to 5 world. And then he too vanished.

I saw the jams as an oasis. A place to escape my hum drum life, where I could transform from Dr Jekyll to Mr Hyde. I could dance as if I wore a mask.

Now I realize that at the jams we took off our masks. We weren’t boring, dull androids after all. Music was the perfect prescription. Music not concerned with notes but with feeling.

Not about perfection but just fun.

Way better than a psychiatrist with psych meds. But just being with those kids awhile; as they pointed their heart at you and looked deep into your eyes. They saw who we were; not what we had become. Yea those crazy Volunteers did a fine job.

And Jay and Vaughns mother, well she knew it all along.....

And so Scott waited patiently for the next tenant. Then one day a man in his 30s pulled up in a rundown truck filled to the brim with albums. He was looking for a place to sell them. And much more. What that more was, well he wasn’t sure yet, but he knew he would figure that out.

When Scott saw the twinkle in his eye the deal was done. And another handmade sign was hung in the window.

And that sign showed all that Magic had struck 360 Van Brunt once again.

It said; The Record Shop A post script. Some 7 years after Sandy, all of the Volunteers and friends of our story are fine, and the friendships made then still strong. Except Rudy.

Rudy is gone. The finest Air trombonist ever.

Gene Bray lives in the Red Hook Houses. This is his first contribution to the Star-Revue.

November 2020

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November 2020, Page 9

New York City’s Hidden Gems

by Mike Fiorito

M

any New York City residents, especially those of us who are from New York City, think we know everything about our beloved hometown. But the fact is, we do not.

station, instead of walking directly to the Beverley station, if the local wasn’t running. The Church Avenue Station is an express stop on the Q/B lines.

I joined the Victorian Flatbush Tour, which includes parts of Ditmas Park, Prospect Park South, and the historic Albemarle-Kenmore Terraces, on a Sunday afternoon. The tour wound around a small radius of a few blocks in Ditmas Park where I lived for about five years. I was blown away by how much I learned on the tour.

“Most people don’t know, but just to the left here, beyond this parking lot, is The Knickerbocker Field Club. The original building, built in the Colonial Revival style, was burned down in the eighties and although they haven’t restored the original Victorian style building, they’ve built a small structure where people can watch tennis games, lounge and talk.”

We met our guide, Jeremy Wilcox, just outside the Church Avenue station on the Q. There were about ten of us in all. Most people were NYC area residents.

Approaching the street named Tennis Court, Jeremy described its history.

To remain socially distant, Jeremy talked to us via Bluetooth headset devices. We all wore masks.

A narrow path threaded through the parking lot, then opened to the Knickerbocker Field Club grounds. To the east were apartment buildings that lined Flatbush; to the west was the sunken train tracks where the Q train runs.

“Follow me,” he said, walking briskly, waving his hand, inviting us to follow.

Then we met Ray, president of The Knickerbocker Field Club.

“You know you’re in a landmark district when the signs are in terracotta (brown),” said Jeremy, pointing to a sign that read Albemarle Kenmore Terrace. “The other signs are green.”

“The club opened in 1889. It has five courts, a comfortable clubhouse, men’s and women’s lockers, and has hundreds of members,” he said, sounding like a native New Yorker.

We then wended our way to my old block on 18th Street and Beverley.

When I had lived there a few years ago, I often walked north on 18th Street to get to the Church Avenue

The clubhouse was bounded by a spacious deck, a green lawn and a perennial garden.

Page 10 Red Hook Star-Revue

I couldn’t believe that I walked past

Jeremy Wilcox, GANYC member, leads a tour of Ditmas Park

the clubhouse nearly every day for a number of years and had no idea it existed. Then again, it’s not like the clubhouse overly advertised itself to the neighborhood.

A good tour guide is a fount of knowledge. And I learned from talking to other guides that what makes a good tour guide is possessing a native curiosity and a passion to learn more about a neighborhood, area or subject matter.

I talked to Maggie Brown, who grew up in the Bronx, and specializes in its neighborhoods.

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“People really love the off the beaten path tours. And when I discovered the Guide Association of NYC, I learned from other guides. How to create rates, make contracts, and develop tours. They also have a job board.”

Maggie developed a brunch cruise up the Hudson.

“They were going to expand the brunch cruise, but then the pandemic happened,” sighed Maggie.

“What are your most asked for tours?”

“I do tours of Little Ireland in the Bronx (Katona Avenue). There is a

(continued on next page)

November 2020

In Sicily, some barbers also pulled teeth

I

’ve been going to Vincent’s Barber Shop on Cortelyou Road in Brooklyn since I moved to the Ditmas Park area in 2003.

Until recently, there has always been a packed crowd waiting for haircuts and shaves.

And now, since COVID, when I walk into the shop, I wear a mask. Everyone who enters the shop has to wear a mask, especially while getting a haircut. And when you’re in the barber’s chair, you’re covered in plastic. And each station is separated by fiberglass dividers.

Today there are a few people ahead of me. I sit down to wait my turn.

When I first started going to Vincent’s Barber Shop, what got me hooked was that I could not only get an excellent haircut, but I could practice my not so great Sicilian. Vincent and his son Vinny speak Sicilian the way my grandparents did. Like many Americans, my grandparents only spoke Sicilian to talk to each other, so whatever I learned, I learned by listening closely and asking questions.

Interestingly, Angelo, one of the other barbers, also from Sicily, often doesn’t understand my Sicilian. Of course, this makes me feel even more selfconscious than I already do about how poorly I speak the language.

“You’re close, you just have to work on your diction,” says Vinny, the owner’s son, trying to make me feel better.

“Ok, Venica, come sit in the chair,” he adds.

Vinny and I sometimes speak Sicilian, mostly in words, as opposed to full sentences, to communicate something we don’t want the other customers to hear. We jokingly use expressions like malducati (rude) or sfachiem (bad person). Before Vin-

TOUR GUIDES (continued from previous page)

cluster of Irish pubs, shops and bakeries that make delicious Irish soda bread.”

“I do a lot of college neighborhood tours, like Fordham University,” added Maggie. “I want to show people areas that we can walk to and from.

If you come to see the neighborhood around Fordham, I’ll show you Arthur Ave, the Botanic Garden and The Bronx Zoo. Not only are people interested in the neighborhood, parents and their kids want to learn about services: restaurants, cafés, etc. It’s a good way to get to know your way around.”

Then I spoke to Michael Morgenthal, Vice President of the Guides Association of New York City and an active tour guide.

“Nobody grows up wanting to be a tour guide,” said Michael.

I laughed. It like being a writer, I

Red Hook Star-Revue

by Mike Fiorito ny’s father, Vincent, passed away in 2018, he and I also had similar “conversations” in Sicilian. Vincent was a very gentle and nice man. He gave my youngest son his first haircut. My wife and I even videotaped it.

Originally from Catania, Sicily, Vincent came to New York in 1960. Vincent’s father, Gaetano, and Vincent’s grandfather were barbers back in Sicily.

Now sitting in the chair, looking in the mirror, I say, “My mother says that her grandfather from Sicily was a barber and that he also performed some basic medical procedures. Did your grandfather do the same thing?”

“He pulled teeth,” says Vinny, laughing.

My mother says that her grandfather did other things, too. Like removing moles.

“Barbers knew how to use sharp instruments, like scissors and razors.

And if you lived in a small village and needed to have something lanced, a tooth removed, you couldn’t wait for a doctor.”

That makes sense, I say.

“What do you want today?” asks Vinny, looking back at me in the mirror.

Today I just want a trim. Let’s do La Grande Cosa next week.

By La Grande Cosa I mean my once a month bigger haircut. Sometimes the distinction between La Grand Cosa and a trim is slight. Being a good barber is about giving people what they ask for, even if what they ask for doesn’t really make sense.

More than just getting a trim today, I’m asking Vinny about the history of the shop.

Vinny tells me that his father came to the United States with an arranged job and a place to live.

mused. You do it because you must.

“They have varied backgrounds. Some are actors, artists, or lawyers.”

“How did you become a tour guide?”

I asked.

“By mistake, actually.” He described how he was asked to show a group of kids from Canada around New York City. I found out I really liked doing it.”

GANYC, founded in 1974, is an association of independent, professional tour guides based in New York City. Each member is licensed by the New York City Department of Consumer Affairs.

“We are one of the oldest and most active tour guides associations in America. We provide a number of services for the visiting public as well as for our members including tour guide education, familiarization tours (FAM Tours), professional advice and workshops,” said Michael.

“Can you tell me about some of your tours?”

“I do food tasting tours in Williams-

“In those days, paisans from the same town in Sicily would help you come over to the States.”

Did he work in Brooklyn?

“No, first he worked in Manhattan.

But, working for the union, they sent him to work on Saturdays in the shop we’re in today.”

There was a barbers’ union? I didn’t know that.

“There used to be, but no longer.”

Is that when he bought the shop?

“No, he worked in the shop, then that owner sold the shop. Ironically, a friend that he knew bought the shop from him years later.”

So your father worked here before he bought the shop? I ask.

“Yes, then the guy wanted to retire,” says Vinny.

Vincent taking care of a customer safely

Was it expensive to buy?

“Not in those days. He sold my father the chairs,” pointing to the chairs still in the shop, “sold him equipment, and signed the lease over to him.”

Man, life was different in those days,” I say. “You’ve told me you have brothers. Why did you decide to become a barber?

“I didn’t want to go to college like my brothers,” replies Vinny, chuckling. “I didn’t know what I wanted to do.”

Do you think you’ll retire from here?

“No,” he says emphatically. “First of all, the business has been impacted

by COVID. Secondly, if the current landlord sells the building, the new person might raise the rent and kick me out.”

What do you think you’ll do?

barber, like my father was, his father and his father before him.”

Vincent’s Barber Shop: 1505 Cortelyou Rd, Brooklyn, NY 11226, (718) 693-0619 Mike Fiorito: www.callmeguido.com

"We jokingly use expressions like malducati (rude) or sfachiem (bad person)"

“I’ll figure that out when the time comes. I have two boys to put through school, so I’ll have to do something. But for now, I will be a

burg and Dumbo. The tours really showcase the neighborhoods as opposed to the food. Other tours include The Hip Hispanic and Hasidic in Williamsburg, showing the different neighborhoods, and how they intertwine and coexist. We also have many other food tours. I’ve done tours of Ellis Island, showing the immigrant experience. And I’ve also done tours of the old elevated trains in New York City.”

“What does it take to be a great tour guide?” I asked.

“You have to love the subject matter and always be willing to learn more.”

“With COVID, I imagine tours are down?”

“Maybe tourism is down, but many New Yorkers take our tours. In fact, we’re hoping that New Yorkers, now with less options to go elsewhere, will rediscover their city.”

To help New Yorkers learn more about their own city, GANYC has created the Tour Your Own City project (https:// touryourowncity.com). On the web-

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site you will find tours covering a wide variety of subjects and neighborhoods. You can search by neighborhood, by topic, by date, by language – or you can search by specific tour guide if you’re looking for a guide whose personality fits your own.

And I can tell you from my experience that even New Yorkers who’ve lived in the City most, if not all, of their lives, will learn something from a good tour.

You can be sure there are little bits of history tucked away behind places you visit every day. These tours will remind you that New York City has endured many eras and many waves of different people. Take a New York City tour; you just might discover its history hiding right in front of you.

Guide Association of New York City: https://www.ganyc.org/ (718) 693-0619 Tour Your Own City: https://touryourowncity.com Mike Fiorito www.callmeguido.com https://www.pw.org/directory/writers/mike_fiorito

November 2020, Page 11

MY DAY AT THE POLLS

by Nathan Weiser

Back in June, I signed with the Board of Election (BOE) to be a poll worker.

I did this because I had heard that fewer older people who are usually poll workers were able work the polls because of the pandemic, and I wanted to directly be behind the scenes of election day assisting in the voting process for this historic election.

There were in fact a mix of younger people and older people as poll workers on November 3.

I set up my account and then waited to find out about my training class. I did not hear anything from the BOE for about three months, so I inquired and found out I could sign up for one online and take the 4-hour class in the beginning of October.

Mask wearing was required by everyone in the class and partitions were

Page 12 Red Hook Star-Revue

set up on the various tables. The instructors went over all the and the class ended with a test.

lot through the machine. Sometimes I would tell them the correct way if they could not figure it out.

I did not really know how busy election day would be since early voting in New York City saw a record number of votes (1.1 millions people) with lines of a few hours amidst the pandemic.

The early voting and mail in voting made a difference at least for the site I was assigned since the only time where there were many inside was early morning.

At about 7:15 a.m., Scanner A, there were four total, was not taking ballots so a BOE representative came to to fix it and it was out of service for a while since they could not figure it out.

I arrived at 5:00 a.m. bright and early and received some instructions about my inspector scanner position. I was assigned to ballot box scanner C, so the first task was setting up the scanner C with another inspector scanner while making sure the numbered tags corresponded.

We had many instructions to follow but by 5:50 we opened the scanner and by 6:00 we had it set up with the privacy panels attached and then made sure the date on the screen was correct. Ten minutes later, the public vote count was zero, the test page was printed and scanner C was officially ready for voting.

There were 25 people that had voted at Scanner C between 6:10 and 6:30 and comparatively that was the biggest amount in one time period of the day as many wanted to come and vote first thing in the morning.

At 7 a.m., there were not as many people coming in to vote. My role initially was to hand out stickers to to people after they scanned their bal-

At about 11:30, two people came to fix it again and after some trial and error they were able to get the machine to operate again.

Something that I found out was that all of the poll workers who worked on Election Day did not work in early voting since they were under a different training cycle than the ones for November 3.

Another task of mine was taking folders that ballots were in back to the other side of the room so the workers could give them to the voters after signing in.

We were told later on in the day that the voters had to keep their ballot in the folder until after they voted so there would be no chance of interfering. Since we were told this, I got the folders back after instead of before the ballots were scanned.

Someone also insisted on keeping her folder for privacy at one point. A common mistake that led to voters filing in multiple ballots was when they voted for the same candidate more than once after not correctly reading the instructions.

Due to the pandemic, it was emphasized by a coordinator that all poll workers had to wear a mask the right

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way or else they would be told to leave (there were no issues with this) and all voters had to wear a mask or else they would have to talk to a cop on premises.

At 9:40 a.m., 112 votes had been cast at Scanner C. 482 people total had voted at noon. 604 votes had been tallied on the four scanners at 2:45.

At 8:00 p.m., 735 people had voted on the four scanners and at closing time (9:00 p.m.) a total of 754 people had voted and scanner C had 183 votes.

Any voters still online at 9:00 pm are still allowed to vote, but my location did not have a line and surprisingly there were very few rushing to get their votes in before the location closed, but there were some who arrived just in time.

Towards the end of the day, there was a mother and her daughter who was enthusiastically voting for the first time after recently turning 18. Other highlights included a 10-day-old baby at the scanner and a 92-year-old man who voted.

There was also only one person who needed the alternate voting machine that made the ballot larger since he struggled repeatedly with filling out his regular ballot correctly. This was later in the day when not many were coming in to vote.

At 9:00 p.m., since nobody was still coming inside to vote, all that was left to do was follow the steps to close down the ballot box scanner machine and give what was needed to the coordinator.

November 2020

Paths to Victory: President Joe Biden and Vice President Kamala Harris

by Roderick Thomas America’s Great Pivot: President Joe Biden, Vice President Kamala Harris The historic election of Joe Biden and Kamala Harris marks another hardfought milestone in American history.

President-Elect Joe Biden, is now the oldest elected president in US history, and more noteworthy, Kamala Harris, the first Black, South Asian (Indian) and female vice president of the United States of America. As the nation transitions from one presidential administration to another, what have we learned from this election cycle during a chaotic 2020?

Initially, Joe Biden campaigned against then-Senator Kamala Harris, for the Democratic presidential nomination. Biden eventually secured the nomination with a steady campaign against powerhouse Democrats like Elizabeth Warren, political mainstay Bernie Sanders, Senator Cory Booker, and of course Vice President-Elect Harris.

Joseph Robinette Biden was born the first of three children and raised in Scranton, Pennsylvania then Wilmington Delaware. Throughout his earlier years, he would be described by others as a natural leader, entering into politics shortly after becoming a lawyer. Joe Biden’s political career started as an elected New Castle, Delaware city councilman. In 1972 he would win a tight race for the U.S Senate, narrowly defeating the then republican incumbent by just 3,162 votes. He became the sixth youngest US senator in history. In 2008 Joe Biden would be elected vice president of the United States, serving two terms alongside former President Barack Obama.

Throughout his 47 year career, Joe Biden’s political leanings have been described as moderate, to somewhat liberal. As a young senator his opposition to the war in Vietnam, apartheid in South Africa and focus on environmental issues, made him a progressive in the eyes of some. However, his conservative views on busing (school racial integration initiative), and his

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support of the Comprehensive Crime Control Act, a ‘tough on crime’ bill that increased federal penalties for the use of marijuana, would come back to haunt him.

Early in 2020, Biden’s future running mate Kamala Harris would challenge him during the presidential primaries on his former stance on busing, a program that helped her integrate her school as a child. Then there was the Hunter Biden email scandal, where Joe Biden and his son Hunter, were accused of pay for play dealings with China. The email scandal was a major talking point for President Trump, but the allegations were never proven true.

Despite Trump losing the vast majority of Black voters, President Trump would jab at Biden saying, “African American men remember, you called them super predators,” referencing Biden’s support of ‘tough on crime’ bills, earlier in his senate career. During the 2020 presidential debate, Biden would call the Comprehensive Crime Control Act “a mistake,” saying, “it should have never happened.”

The president-elect would hit back, reminding Trump of his paid advertisements calling for the death of five innocent Black teenagers, The Central Park Five.

Biden’s earlier positions on issues like same-sex marriage throughout the 1990s would also evolve from conservative to liberal. In 2015, he and then-president Obama would go on to claim a landmark victory, federally legalizing same-sex marriage. In 2020, the president-elect campaigned on marquee promises of investing in renewable energy, job creation, healthcare, and better management of the pandemic. His critics blasted him for his positions on renewable energy, accusing him of wanting to destroy the oil and gas industry.

Biden’s plan for a phased decrease to fracking was thought to be an Achilles heel for his campaign. However, it seems many voters, perhaps younger voters, prioritized climate change as a major issue, something the republi-

can incumbent President Trump, may have underestimated.

Similarly, Vice President-Elect Kamala Harris was challenged on her ‘tough on crime’ record as District Attorney of San Francisco, and Attorney General of California. Under Kamala Harris, conviction rates were significantly higher than had been in previous years. However, sentencing rates to state prison for petty marijuana crimes were not as common.

Nevertheless, the over-representation of convicted Black people proved later to be a chink in her political armor during her initial campaign for presidency, especially among progressive Black voters.

The Howard University alumna’s election as vice president of the United States evokes similar sentiments to Barack Obama’s symbolic victory in 2008. Kamala was born in Oakland California, a child of young immigrants – a Jamaican father and an Indian mother. Much like Barack Obama, her multi-ethnic roots and stellar career trajectory represent the image of Black excellence, the progeny of Shirley Chisom, and racial unity to some Americans. However, if the Van Jones coined ‘white-lashing’ of the Trump administration stands as a reminder, it is that the dream of a post-racial America is not yet realized.

Leading up to election day, most polls showed Biden and Harris with a significant lead. However, both the Trump and Biden campaign were mindful of Hillary Clinton’s shocking 2016 presidential loss. Despite polls showing Biden with a significantly wider margin than Hillary had in her race against Trump, voters were urged to ignore the polls and vote.

The 2020 presidential election set records for early voting, with more than 80 million votes cast days before election day.

The climate of the country proved to be the hardest thing for the incumbent administration to overcome. For most Americans, the effects of the pandemic were the top concern. Consequently, Trump’s low rating for manage-

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ment of the pandemic was certainly a factor in him losing re-election. Additionally, the high unemployment rate and quarter-million American deaths from Covid-19, made the road to a Trump re-election steeper than the White House would have liked to admit. In addition, Trump’s response to the ongoing nationwide protests over police brutality and systemic injustices created even clearer distinctions for voters to choose from. By the end of their campaigns, Biden was outspending Trump, while maintaining his comfortable lead in the polls.

The symbolic victory of the BidenHarris ticket is a pivotal moment in American history, one worthy of many celebrations. But, if the Obama years are a lesson for this time, we should remember that symbolic victories are markers of progress, not destinations.

The work for equality and a better society continues.

Roderick Thomas is an NYC based writer, filmmaker, and Host of Hippie By Accident Podcast.

(Instagram: @Hippiebyaccident, Email: rtroderick.thomas@gmail. com, Site: roderickthomas.net)

"As a young senator his opposition to the war in Vietnam, apartheid in South Africa and focus on environmental issues, made him a progressive in the eyes of some."

November 2020, Page 13

Books by Quinn LUTIE DOESN’T LIVE HERE ANYMORE REVIEW OF THE STREET BY ANN PETRY REVIEWED BY MICHAEL QUINN Even successful books, continuously in print for generations, eventually fade into the background.

New editions, repackaged with fresh cover art and introductions by contemporary authors, give us reason to see them with fresh eyes. Such is the case with The Street, Ann Petry’s critically-acclaimed 1946 novel (with an insightful introduction by author Tayari Jones) about a single Black mother in Harlem trying to rise above the racism, sexism, and poverty her life is mired in.

On a cold, windy night in 1944, Lutie Johnson looks for a new apartment for herself and her eight-year-old son, Bub. She’s determined to make a better life for the both of them. Lutie’s options are limited by two things: her low-level office job income, and her race.

Despite having given it her all, Lutie’s marriage has fallen apart, collapsing under the strain of finances. Husband Jim just couldn’t find work. “‘God damn white people anyway,” he grouses.

“I don’t want favors. All I want is a job. Just a job.

Don’t they know if I knew how I’d change the color of my skin?’”

Lutie had tried to make ends meet, taking in foster children for the supplemental income they provided, then a job as a live-in maid to a white family in Connecticut, sending home her earnings to support her husband and son in Jamaica, Queens.

When Lutie comes home for an unexpected visit, she finds another woman in her place. She then takes Bub to her father’s, but is afraid of Pop’s influence on her son. He’s a hard drinker and lives

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with a loose, voluptuous woman.

The three rooms of the top-floor apartment Lutie winds up renting are oppressively small and dreary, heavy with the “faint persistent odor of gas, of old walls, dusty plaster, and over it all the heavy, sour smell of garbage.” Worse, still, are the other tenants.

Mrs. Hedges, the first neighbor Lutie meets, sits perched in her window, watching everyone’s comings and goings with “the eyes of a snake,” speaking to them with a sugary tongue. She calls everyone “dearie.” Lutie has a strange feeling of Mrs. Hedges “reading her thoughts, pushing her way into her very mind.” Mrs. Hedges’ apartment is the front for a brothel; the tightly-wrapped bandana she wears around her head hides a different kind of secret.

The creepy super, Jones, has his eyes on Lutie from the start, making her walk up the stairs ahead of him, the first time he shows her the apartment, in order to admire her from behind. With the electricity turned off, Lutie is forced to inspect the place by flashlight, and can feel Jones in the dark beside her, ready to pounce. He later befriends Bub as a way to get closer to Lutie, snooping around her apartment when she’s not there, sniffing her powder, rifling through her drawers, squeezing a blouse, imagining the shape of her breasts inside of it. He carries the threat of violence with his every move.

The resourceful Min is the toothless woman who lives with Jones, one of a series of her “husbands.” She’s dependent on him for practical reasons (she needs a place to stay).

She cooks, cleans, and otherwise tries to make herself invisible. Realizing that Jones is about

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to throw her out in order to make the moves on Lutie, Min seeks help from an occultist, who gives her magical powders and potions. The results are good, yet what really makes a difference is something else entirely: “The satisfaction she felt was from the quiet way he had listened to her, giving her all of his attention. No one had ever done that before.”

Lutie, meanwhile, is dispirited by the poverty all around her. Stores are full of “imitation leather pocketbooks, gaudy rayon underwear edged with coarse yellow lace, sleazy blouses— most of it good for one wearing and no more.”

She’s horrified to come home one day and discover Bub on the street with a shoeshine box, trying to make some money. Lutie has an unexpected, violent reaction, and slaps him mightily.

Lutie realizes that her son has unconsciously absorbed her financial anxiety. All she talks about is money: the lack of it, and the need for it. Thinking further, she realizes that her white employers, despite their obvious advantages, “didn’t want their children to be president or diplomats or anything like that. What they wanted was to be rich—‘filthy rich,’” as one calls it. This singular motivation for what makes life worth living starts to impress itself into Lute’s thinking as well. This will prove to

(continued on page 22)

November 2020

Keeping Renaissance art relevant in today's world

by Dario "Pio" Muccilli

U

ffizi's Gallery in Florence is the most important museum in Italy and the 10th most visited museum globally, as it hosts the world's finest Italian Renaissance art collection, which attracted over four million visitors in 2019.

Uffizi's media strategy, being so unusual for a centenary museum, has drawn the attention of many around the world, especially as for Uffizi's TikTok account, where the museum, in order to reach teenagers, has published several irreverent clips.

Amidst its greatest masterpieces, Uffizi exhibits The Birth of Venus (Botticelli, 1484-1486), Doni Tondo (Michelangelo, 1507), Annunciation (Leonardo, 14721475) and the biggest collection of Raffaello's output.

In one of them there's a cartoon Coronavirus dancing through the Uffizi. It stops at Caravaggio's painting Medusa, the mythic creature who turned anyone who dared to gaze at her into stone. The virus turns into rock and it falls down on the floor, smashing in half. Then the painting is shown while wearing a face mask. All this happens with Cardi B's soundtrack shouting “coronavirus”.

Thanks to these (and many other) incredible artworks, Uffizi has gained a great fame since its foundation in 1769 and Uffizi's Director, Eike Schmidt, is without any doubt about why the Renaissance charm still works: “It was an age both of cultural and technological progress, with Florence being the hub of this development as a kind of middle ground between New York and the Silicon Valley.

Many goals achieved during that period are still western landmarks, as for visual culture, where, without Paolo Uccello's output (a 15th century artist who painted eventful war scenes, ed), any Hollywood's war movie would have been totally different.”

Besides, the legacy of the Renaissance still exerts influence upon many artistic grounds. The US Capitol and the White House are suitable examples of neoclassical art inspired by Italian Renaissance architects like Brunelleschi, Michelangelo or Palladio.

While the Uffizi is a bastion of western artistic tradition, this ancient honour in some sense is also an obstacle to growth. “As we try to change somethings, there are always opposing forces that emerge and we could not carry out experiments without a team heading in the same direction” stresses Mr Schmidt, who has a dual new strategy to improve Uffizi's appeal worldwide.

On the one hand he wants to promote a slower approach to the museum amidst visitors - “I do not want them to take a selfie and go away” he once stated – but on the other hand he brought the Uffizi on social media, which are the birthplace of selfies and fast contents.

The museum has accounts on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter and TikTok, where according to Mr Schmidt “Uffizi tries to spread even on the net a taste for insight and slowness, mingling visual art with many other contents, like poetry, which is a natural invitation to meditation. Moreover, we do not post only our most famous masterpieces, but even unknown artworks like Francesco Forini's drawings that became very popular after being posted.”

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This clip and Uffizi's TikTok account were the topic of a New York Times article last June, signed by Alex Marshall and titled “As museums join TikTok, Uffizi is class-clown” on the front page of the international edition of the newspaper.

Did Mr Schmidt or anyone at the Uffizi get offended? “No,” tells the Director, “We have not been so serious on TikTok, and so the New York Times did with its title, while the article itself was not offensive at all.”

That was not the first time the Nyt and the Uffizi had a misunderstanding. The Times took part in a critics debacle against the Uffizi's attribution of the bronze Renaissance sculpture Venus in the Bathroom to the Italian Renaissance artist Giambologna.

On the global critics scenario, the issue gained lots of interest, prompting even one of the most important art revue, the Burlington Magazine, to take a stand in favour of the Uffizi.

“Nowadays Uffizi should take ever more stands like this if it wants to be not only a depository but a scientific research hub. Our image takes advantages from contention like this,” comments Eike Schmidt, who is one of the most expert scholars of Renaissance bronze sculptures.

In order to repair lockdown's damages, Schmidt's aim now is to valorize the collection as much as possible, maybe as he saw doing it in the USA, where he worked as a curator for the National Museum of Washington, Los Angeles' Getty Museum and Minneapolis Institute of Art. These work experiences nowadays prompts him to say that “Many American colleagues of mine are stricken when they see lots of masterpieces hanging together in one only corridor as it happens here in Florence, because in the USA they would probably set an entire museum out of them.”

And, as a matter of fact, they did it, the whole world did it, as there's not any mention-worthy classical western museum which does not host any Italian Renaissance masterpiece or any artwork inspired by Renaissance tradition.

So, in the modern age Uffizi is like a giant, rather than a “class-clown.” Nevertheless it struggles to keep its charm alive as many museums do, because, as the time goes on, Renaissance art seems to be always the same old-fashioned piece of history that does not change.

But it isn't so, Uffizi's duty today is to give to this art a new shape, because culture survives only thanks to people who give it a sense suitable for the age they're living. It doesn't matter when a picture was painted or a sculpture created, because when a guy on TikTok will see it for the very first time it will be almost a rebirth for the artwork, which will become a laugh, a thought or simply a good memory.

That being said, the artwork will continue to exist for another generation, which is why we owe some thanks to the Uffizi's Gallery for keeping alive our western artistic heritage, which is so contemporary both on TikTok and in reality.

Among quarrels and critics, directing a museum like the Uffizi is not easy, also because it is not enough being an art historian or a manager. “You must be both, but this is not new for the Uffizi's Gallery, as when It was opened to the public back in 1769. It was controlled by the Economy Ministry of Tuscany, even if this was a cultural place”.

Nowadays indeed good management skills are also needed to handle the loss of 12 million euros caused by the 2020 spring lockdown, when social media, innovation and renewal had never been so useful to survive.

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November 2020, Page 15

Alexander Liberman’s Adam (1970)

Menashe Kadishman’s Suspended (1977) with Alexander Liberman’s Adam (1970) visible in the distance

Where Art is (Storm) King

by Piotr Pillardy 35mm color film photographs by Piotr Pillardy, (Developed & scanned at Exposure Therapy in Brooklyn) Just a short drive or train ride from the city is Storm King Art Center (more often solely referred to as Storm King, named after the nearby mountain). Set in an idyllic landscape, this art center acts as the perfect and prescient solution to our ongoing need for social distancing while trying to enjoy art in a public setting.

With its blend of “pastoral romanticism” (to borrow a phrase from Schitt’s Creek’s Moira Rose) and industrial grit, the sculpture garden and its 500 acres of pristinely manicured/naturalistic grounds are ripe for exploration while allowing visitors to keep their distance from one another. The experience is enhanced by taking in the equally sublime beauty of the Hudson Valley in the prime of autumn with its cascading changing leaves.

I recently made a trip to Storm King over the warm Labor Day weekend and was blown away as always, more so as I had not been able to physically experience art in so many months. It was my third trip to the sculpture garden, having visited in 2012 and 2014. Storm King has adjusted to the pandemic with timed ticket reservations and a drive through check in operation wherein the tickets are scanned on your phone. After that you are clear to enter the main sculpture garden. While the house, which usually contains additional exhibitions, is closed due to the pandemic, the rest of the grounds are open. For me, the beauty of Storm King is being able to wander around its vast expanse and continuously have chance encounters with amazing pieces of art. Having already explored a fair portion of the grounds on prior visits, this past experience was one of running into old friends I hadn’t seen in a while.

The sculpture garden consists of four distinct areas: The Meadows, Museum Hill, the North Woods, and the South Fields, which arguably houses the “greatest hits” at the center. For this visit, I started through this main portion of the grounds. The South Fields, a wide open landscaped prairie punctuated by immense raw industrial forms, is a good introductory point, as it involves the most walking between art objects, which can seem more arduous after you’ve spent time traversing the grounds. Some of the sculptures for which Storm King is most famous are located here, such as Mark di Suvero’s Pyramidian (1987/1998), among numerous other large scale works by di Suvero and others. The towering form, along with the many others in this part of the garden, evoke such a sense of grandeur, which

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can’t help but remind the viewer of their infinitesimal place within the universe.

To the right of the South Fields is Bunny Road, a picturesque tree lined street, a familiar location to fans of the Netflix series Master of None. If you take this road, you will stumble upon possibly one of my favorite sculptures on the grounds, sculptor Magdalena Abakanowicz’s Sarcophagi in Glass Houses (1989), a series of sculptures incased in glass and wooden enclosures. In a completely different location on the grounds than my last visit, the series shines in its new home to the right of Bunny Road, framed in a section of greenery that helps create a more intimate connection with the objects than the wide-open landscape of the South Fields. The works themselves, created from repurposed turbines and machinery from near Lyon, France, were seen by Abakanowicz as analogous to human bellies. She then created the enclosures to protect these vulnerable and powerful forms.

Continuing down the road is a little-known boat/ sculpture by well-known artist Roy Lichenstein entitled Mermaid from 1994. With the boat mounted to an island surrounded by a small moat of water encircled by trees, this is another instance in which the curation really helps create a unique experience for the viewer. The bright blue and yellow hues of the mermaid, done in Lichenstein’s signature graphic comic book style, cut through the natural scenery. The functioning sail boat (named Young America) itself was painted by Rhode Island School of Design students based on Lichenstein’s plans and, in its past life, also raced in the 1995 America’s Cup. From this section, I made my way back around in a loop to the western portion of the garden. On the way there, I encountered some more exciting pieces, namely Alyson Shotz’s Mirror Fence, created in 2003 and refabricated in 2014. A popular destination for taking photographs due to its reality-displacing reflection, I too couldn’t resist snapping a shot.

Leaving Museum Hill, I entered the next section of the garden, also containing seminal works, known as the North Woods. Some of my favor-

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ites here included Alice Aycock’s Three-Fold Manifestation II, originally created in 1987 and later on refabricated in 2006. As intricate as the name would suggest, the piece consists of an M.C. Escher-eque combination of towering white forms that replicate themselves thrice. This piece, with its bold white color, creates a stark contrast with the lush, green trees behind it. Other works of note here include Alexander Liberman’s Adam (1970), an abstract monumental crimson geometric form.

The masterful curation of the piece atop a hill further heightens its scale and frames it beautifully in the landscape.

The artistic process for the work is almost as interesting as the sculpture itself: Liberman would have an assistant position various elements with a crane and temporarily weld them together, which Liberman would then photograph, print, cut out, and arrange until he arrived at the right configuration. Interestingly, when the sculpture was first exhibited outside the Corcoran Gallery in Washington, DC in 1970, President Richard Nixon objected to it, demanding it be relocated to a less visible location in Haines Point. It then arrived at its current location in Storm King a few years later.

Down the hill from Adam is another of my Storm King favorites: Menashe Kadishman’s Suspended (1977). This grand industrial work seemingly defies gravity, with its rusty weathering steel, becomes all the more intangible the closer one gets to it. The curation, atop one of two adjacent hilltops (the other occupied by Adam), helps draw your eye to its curious form even from far away.

These are only a few of the magnificent pieces I saw and cannot begin to describe all of the beauty I witnessed on that day. It is truly an experience I cannot recommend enough, especially as a way to enjoy art seemingly unencumbered by the modern predicament in which we find ourselves.

Open until December 13th, Storm King is well worth the trip for to satisfy your urge for both fall foliage and larger than life sculptures, all in the span of a single weekend jaunt!

November 2020

Magdalena Abakanowicz’s Sarcophagi in Glass Houses (1989)

Roy Lichenstein’s Mermaid (1994)

Alyson Shotz’s Mirror Fence, (2003; refabricated in 2014)

"It is truly an experience I cannot recommend enough, especially as a way to enjoy art seemingly unencumbered by the modern predicament in which we find ourselves."

Alice Aycock’s Three-Fold Manifestation II, (1987, refabricated in 2006)

Storm King has adjusted to the pandemic with timed ticket reservations and a drive through check in operation wherein the tickets are scanned on your phone.

Mark di Suvero’s Pyramidian (1987/1998)

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November 2020, Page 17

Gowanus Lost and Found: New Exhibit Documents a Changing Neighborhood

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rogress sounds like a lot of things. The chugging of bulldozers excavating the earth. A ladle scraping new brownstone onto a rebuilt stoop. Construction guys a hundred feet up shouting commands to guide a steel girder into place. A crew of laborers laughing as they haul old dirt and timber from a gut renovation.

In Gowanus, it’s EPA boats puttering along the polluted canal, surveying the superfund site. Piles for avant-garde living driven into the fetid mud on the banks of the polluted waterway. The metal machine music of the Citizens Gas Works cleanup, preparation for even more ambitious redevelopment. Developers and politicians shouting about progress. Gowanus long-haulers shouting to be heard.

Change is rarely clean, especially in a city where nothing can stand in the way of building — not neighborhood pushback, not a pandemic. In Gowanus the process has been particularly messy, with a controversial rezoning certification anticipated for January 2021 amplifying years of acrimony, allegations, and recriminations between elected representatives and residents.

Against that cacophony of clean up and construction, politics and community, husband-and-wife filmmakers Jamie Courville and Chris Reynolds have created oases to consider what has changed, what has been lost and gained, and where Gowanus is headed. “Gowanus Reflection,” a series of stills on view through November 11 and installed on utility poles and lampposts, contrasts how 10 Gowanus locations look today with how they existed in the recent past. At the end of Bond Street on 4th Street, a foreground image of the same dead end, from 2014, shows the Kentile Floors sign, now gone, looming over the elevated subway tracks. At the corner of Union and Nevins, a shot from 2013 of an open garage full of tools and equipment is posted across the street from the space’s current occupant: Ample Hills Creamery.

The images can seem mundane at first glance, sitting alongside the in-your-face street art and posters that pepper the area around the canal. But they’re far more provocative than some marker drawing on a Priority Mail sticker. This is evidence — of a neighborhood losing its memory along with familiar buildings — and the filmmakers have lots of it. The stills are pulled from the hundreds of hours of footage Courville and Reynolds have shot for their in-progress documentary, Gowanus Current. It’s a film they’ve worked on for seven years, which grew out of their desire to “remember what things look like,” Courville said.

“When we first moved here, it looked like a lot of empty warehouses,” Reynolds says. “Working on this film I’ve learned that these are all functional

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by Dante A. Ciampaglia businesses employing people and making stuff, and that when these manufacturing areas go away we’re not creating new ones. Once we lose this, it’s gone. I did not have an appreciation for what a big deal that was.”

Courville and Reynolds met on a film set in Dallas in 2000, and a year later decamped for Brooklyn.

In 2009, they moved from Sunset Park to Douglass Street in Gowanus and quickly noticed blips of gentrification. (Four years ago, they were priced out and moved to Clinton Street.) But they picked up cameras as they watched the Fairfield Inn on 3rd Avenue rise on the site of… what? They couldn’t recall what was there before. They started taking pictures of their community and originally thought to combine their skills — Courville makes audio portraits, Reynolds is a cinematographer — to create a multimedia tapestry documenting aspects of Gowanus. “And that just turned into so much more,” Courville said.

That “more” is a film they describe as a “hybrid observational documentary/tone poem,” which has evolved with the forces impacting Gowanus, from the EPA clean up to the battles over redevelopment to the coronavirus. Part of the reason the film hasn’t been completed is Courville and Reynolds’s plans for an ending kept changing. First it would conclude when the dredging of the canal stopped. Then it was when 365 Bond was completed. Eventually they settled on the results of the current rezoning process, which is scheduled to last seven months. “And if it’s not settled, then we just have to stop because we can’t do this forever,” Courville said.

“Whatever the final rezoning decision is, that’s going to be the end of the chapter that we’re here to tell,” Reynolds added. “If the rezoning somehow fails, which seems unlikely right now, but if it does then that’s a great ending. If it goes through, then the era that we’ve been here for comes to an end and a new era starts.”

The filmmakers always planned to excavate stills from their footage and exhibit them. They would have been installed in a gallery, but the pandemic upended those plans. “I think they’re much better out here,” Reynolds said. “It sort of lends itself to this setting,” Courville added. “It’s a happy accident.”

Affixing an image to a pole on 5th Street — looking down the street, a view strikingly unchanged but for the fossils of heavy industry torn down for housing and Whole Foods — Courville and Reynolds had to raise their voices to talk over the beeps, blares, and booms coming from the Citizens Gas Works site. After struggling with a piece of the frame popping off and reorienting zip ties, they get the still in place and stand back to ensure it stays put and is on a good sight line.

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A couple minutes later, as they discuss the work, two women walk by and stop at the installation.

One of the viewers, Lisa, said she had been in the neighborhood three years. But it took little prompting for her to speak with Courville and Reynolds about the street, what’s gone and what remains, and the broader redevelopment reshaping Gowanus. She brought up Jane Jacobs and the fight to save the West Village. She mentioned the rezoning plan and how it will push out artists and manufacturing for even more luxury high rises.

She expressed how the changes have impacted her, despite being a relative newcomer. “My car mechanic is getting pushed out of 3rd Avenue,” Lisa exclaimed. “Where am I going to get my car fixed?”

When these first viewers walk away, Courville and Reynolds are energized. “It’s better than indifference,” Reynolds said. (Another pedestrian walked by the image a few minutes later, without stopping.

Everyone’s a critic.) But more than experiencing first-hand someone engaging with their work, Lisa’s response to it is the kind of interaction — with the neighborhood, with neighbors, with the past, present, and future — that Courville and Reynolds hope their installation encourages across Gowanus.

“The images we’ve chosen, we tried to make them more about the place,” Reynolds said. “There’s not a lot of people in the shots. It’s about the landscape and how it’s changing.”

“I don’t think people see downstream from where they come from, especially financially,” Courville added. “So I’m hoping that people will look at these and maybe think about their place in place on a wider scale than maybe they did before.”

“It’s kind of a fun game, looking at the picture and the place to see what’s different between them,” Reynolds said. “But it does, hopefully, lead to discussions.”

Gowanus Reflection will be on view throughout Gowanus through November 11. A map of the photos can be found online at gowanuscurrent.com/gowanusreflection.

Filmmakers Jamie Courville and Chris Reynolds

November 2020

Music New Themes for Ceramic Dog Days

by Kurt Gottschalk

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arc Ribot’s punkjam trio Ceramic Dog had been playing low key gigs around town for a long time before really finding their voice on their second album, 2013’s Your Turn. That’s when they started to get mad. The sarcastic AF song was about musicians gleefully accepting social media presence over money for their work “Masters of the Internet” was both funny and angry, which isn’t the only thing Ceramic Dog does, but it’s what they do best. (It’s streaming for free on Bandcamp, btw. Just sayin’.)

Their quick new EP What I Did On My Long ‘Vacation’ was recorded in May at bassist/keyboardist/engineer Shahzad Ismaily’s home studio, each member tracking their parts in separate isolation booths. It came out last month as a limited CD that sold out fast (it can also be found on their Bandcamp page) that finds them again at their funny angry best.

Ceramic Dog is, to be sure, a musician’s band.

Ribot has an uncanny way of playing leads like a

rhythm guitarist, always on or bouncing off the beat. Drummer Ches Smith is versed in both jazz and rock drumming, and uses both to the band’s best advantage. Ismaily is a wonder, a sonic caulk gun filling in the gaps and filling out the sound with taste and smarts. Influences of Frank Zappa, Latin music and Philly soul seep through, but it’s the attitude that sells it. After an opening jam, “Beer” blast in, mocking the dudes at the bar (maybe the same ones who won’t shut up during the gig) but sung with the knowledge of having been there. After a couple more drinks (read: instrumental jams), the Dog lets loose with “Hippies Are Not Nice Anymore,” a sequel of sorts to “Masters of the Internet.” Without taking a breath, the album ends in a mournful prayer with “The Dead Have Come to Stay With Me.” Long Vacation is in and out again in a half hour, but nine more tunes from the same session are slated for release in the spring. Hopefully by then they and we will have something new to be pissed off about.

Magik and Isolation in 2020

by Kurt Gottschalk

2020 the album isn’t a statement but a culmination. It’s not like the Stooges setting signposts with “1969” and, subsequently, “1970.” The band members had drifted in different directions and away from music, and the new releases were recorded slowly, over several years. 2020 isn’t thepoint, it’s just the endpoint. But it’s also a culmination, at least for now, in sound. Magik Markers started operations as an enormously noisy improv rock band in Hartford, CT, almost 20 years ago, and

became more contained as notice took hold. They shifted toward songcraft during their initial decade but aberrant sounds were always there, like a subway running underneath the cinema. They didn’t abandon noise, they just put more things on top of it.

On 2020, the pastiche is near perfection. The songs are crazy varied, suggesting at times southern rock, Black Sabbath or their early champions, Sonic Youth. Other times they’re drenched in reverb and stark surrealism. It’s a bit scattered, as can be expected from the conditions under which it was created, but it builds to a beautiful close in its final third. The sonic experiment of “Hymn for 2020” is a much needed anthem for separation and sorrow.

It’s separated by a little, 45-second rockish twist called “Swole Sad Tic” from the broken pleas of “CD-Rom” and leading to the closing “Quarry (If You Dive)” distant and dissonant and sadly nostalgic and ending with ghostly bongos.

side of time. But it sure feels like one, so who are they to say?

2020 the album isn’t a signpost for the year we’re in. The Markers have made it clear they live out-

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B

ack in July, Magik Markers quietly released a four-song digital EP, the first new music they’ve put out in a half dozen years. It was subdued, a little psychedelic, with a title suggesting they’ve been out of our ugly loop for a while. (Magik Markers has always been good at naming). In October, the band followed Isolation From Exterior Time: 2020 with the more simply monikered full-length 2020, making the previous EP seem like a bridge between the new album and the 2011 cassette Isolation From Exterior Time.

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October 2020, Page 19

Deerhoof’s Mixtape of the Mind

Deerhoof ’s set at last year’s Time:Spans festival was a surprise in even in the midst of 11 days of unpredictableness. The festival has all the earmarks of experimentalism; it’s organized by the The Earle Brown Music Foundation Charitable Trust, named for a contemporary of John Cage and Morton Feldman, and held primarily at the Dimenna Center for Classical Music. Deerhoof isn’t a typical rock band, but Time:Spans sure isn’t any kind of rock festival.

They did play some Cage and Feldman that night, however, along with Pauline Oliveros, Karlheinz Stockhausen and other major figures of the last century’s contemporary classical music. They also played bits of the B-52’s, the Beach Boys, Ornette Coleman, Eddie Grant, and Kermit the Frog. They played Kraftwerk, Ennio Morricone, Gary Numan, Parliament, Silver Apples and Sun Ra. Under the banner In All Languages: Deerhoof Plays Hits of the 50s, 60s, 70s, 80s, and 90s, they played a lot. The set of genre smashing medleys has now been released under the simpler title Love Lore and is available on their Bandcamp page.

The expanse of Love Lore isn’t entirely without precedent. In 1983, the L.A punk band Circle Jerks released an epic piece of stupidity with “Golden Shower of Hits (Jerks on 45),” a five-minute mash of Paul Anka, the Association, Captain and Tennille,

Carpenters, Starland Vocal Band and Tammy Wynette. The notes to Naked City’s 1992 album Radio lists more than five dozen direct and varied inspirations for the album’s 19 tracks.

Love Lore falls somewhere in the gulf between the two; 43 works played in part (sometimes very small part) over the course of five tracks totaling just over half an hour, stitched together in transitions that would make a brilliant mixtape or wouldn’t work without a crossfade but most often only work because it’s the same band passionately playing through.

The set ends with a love letter to both Laurie Anderson and Lou Reed in a cover (maybe the only song complete enough to call a “cover”) of the Velvet Underground’s “All Tomorrow’s Parties” that interpolates Anderson’s “Example #22.”

It’s pretty much perfect. The whole album is available as a free download if only because licensing fees would make it impossible any other way. — Kurt Gottschalk

USA Nails Goes Full Stop

The punk ethos was designed to implode, and implode it did (or should have, anyway). Punk was a fiery rejection of the status quo. Once it became status quo, it was time to go. But like a dinner guest you don’t know is dead, punk refused to leave.

The problem came with confusing the idea that talent and technique weren’t requisite with a practice of not needing ideas. The point of punk was to express yourself—and yourself doesn’t sound like anyone else. But as soon as legions of bands started sounding the same, like crates full of Clashes and Ramones, the point became to be pointless. And punk was never supposed to be pointless, even when it was about pointlessness.

We have, however, those legions of nincompoops to thank for keeping the flame fanned so there’s still a place in the fire for those occasional, wonderful, explosions of true artistic angst, sparks that fly from those who value vitriol over verisimilitude, true thinking people’s punk.

Character Stop is USA Nails’ fifth album in six years, the product of four days in the studio in late 2019 and it’s their most varied and satisfying to date. The songs are a bit like fellow Brits Wire, at least in the early days, but more amped-up Wire than anything, The vocal delivery at times calls to mind GW Sok, former singer

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for the Ex, those Dutch champions who defied the odds by carrying on for 40 years without their edge dulling. There’s an experimental streak a bit like Boston’s Neptune but with machine-like riffs that can resemble Hüsker Dü’s heavy distortion psychedelia. But the point isn’t to be like anything so all of that’s beside the point, and it ain’t throwback.

Character Stop sounds like today. It sounds like what today needs. It’s brilliant like a dagger on fire, urgent and confused and impatient and pissed off. The band did a couple of raw “Isolation Party” pandemic blasts (lasting about a quarter hour each) and a couple of cover version medley digital mixtapes but this is their first “proper” (whatever that means) release since last year’s Life Cinema, and recorded just a few months after that one. Everything’s up on Bandcamp so you have no one to blame but yourself for missing it.

— Kurt Gottschalk

November 2020

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by JACK GRACE Jorma Kaukonen has played Monterey Pop, Woodstock and festivals all around the world for the past half century plus.

On this chilly October, New England night amidst the pandemic, it’s time for him to head towards the stage solo, wearing a mask, under a tent of socially distanced fans eagerly awaiting what is likely several music lover’s first concert experience for 2020.

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He begins this late show (two shows in one night, 4pm and 7:30pm) with one of his set regulars, “Been So Long”: “Been so long since I belong here, Ever since I lost my way That was when I still had something, Special left for me to say”.

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He then proclaims, “I can’t tell you how amazing it feels to play music for people that aren’t direct family for a change!”

He moves into his set relaxed, seeming to enjoy finding what song feels right for the moment. Jorma certainly has many options in his repertoire that can be instantly crowd pleasing to his fans. But his approach is more to enchant through performance rather than relying on his most well known songs to do the work for him. He is also conscious of not repeating songs from the earlier show. So on this night, we have 34 songs in 2 shows.

Jorma has a devoted audience, much of it on the north side of 50. A common site at a Jorma or Hot Tuna acoustic concert (Jorma Kaukonen- guitar, Jack Casady- bass) for decades has been a smattering of long haired fellas in tie-dyes and ladies in hippie dresses dancing double time to impeccably attacked acoustic fingerpicking music. The aging crowd is starting to look a little less wild but you can still experience some hootin’ and hollerin’ along with a taste of biker debauchery that has been a staple to this scene since it’s inception. The tradition of yelling out song requests (obvious or intentionally bizarre) and other banter is still present. Part of what makes this aspect so fun, is Jorma’s humble, dry and often hysterical approach to addressing the gallery. “I love you Jorma” one man shouted, “Wait ‘til you get to know me”, he said with a smile. Later in the show someone yelled out, “Play, Tiny Bubbles”. Jorma laughed and warned that just because of that strange request, he believes he is just going to have to learn that one (Tiny Bubbles, for those of you not in the know, was the easy listening, signature song of Hawaiian music legend, Don Ho).

Every Jorma show is different, but always approached with a high level of artistic integrity entwined with a “discovery of the power and depth of American blues and roots music”.

He is a true American treasure himself, a gentleman and a warrior that has enjoyed some of the most Dionysian times in musical history. Yet, unlike other talented friends like Jerry Garcia or Janis Joplin, he made it out alive.

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So if choreographed dance moves, hot chicks in skimpy attire and steamy lyrics about booty and sexting are your thing, Jorma Kaukonen is the man you need to see.

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November 2020, Page 21

Jazz by Grella Chronicle of a Death Foretold

By George Grella

T

here is something disorienting and unsettling about experiencing an artist talking about the end of their career in real time. They narrate the end of something that, until uttered, still existed. Imagine reading a book where every word disappears as your eyes move along the line, the only trace the one left in your memory.

That is what it was like to read Nate Chinen’s talk with pianist Keith Jarrett in the October 21 New York Times, “Keith Jarrett Confronts a Future Without the Piano.” Jarrett, who turned 75 in May of this year, suffered two strokes in early 2018 which have left him debilitated. As he relates in the story, he is still partly paralyzed on the left side of his body, and his rehabilitation target is nowhere near the ability of play the piano, it’s to be able to hold a cup in his hand again.

To say this is grave damage is an understatement.

Jarrett told Chinen that he’s tried to play the heads to bebop tunes, just with his right hand, but can’t remember them. Other artists have recovered from serious injury, or worse—the great classical pianist Leon Fleisher lost the use of his right hand to focal dystonia for forty years before being able to play again with both hands (he died in August of this year), while guitarist Pat Martino, a singular stylist, had an aneurysm in 1980 and had to learn how to play the guitar again, from scratch—and Jarrett himself played in pain for many, many years (and took an extended hiatus) while suffering from chronic fatigue syndrome. But he, and these other musicians, were younger, and the body loses the capacity to recover from serious injury as we age. Reading between the lines, Jarrett seems resigned to the fact that he will no longer play in front of an audience, or in the recording studio.

He has a new double-album, The Budapest Concert, which came out October 30 on ECM. It’s an excellent picture of where he was as an artist before he was felled, so it also doubles as something of a memorial to his career. He’s followed two main parallel paths during his long musical maturity, dating from an arbitrary point after his short, prominent, and intense tenure in Miles Davis’ electric sextet (Jarrett contributes an important groove and crunch to albums like the Live at the Fillmore East and the fantastic Live-Evil. On one, he’s maintained one of the small handful of working bands left in jazz, his Standards trio with bassist Gary Peacock and drummer Jack DeJohnette (although Peacock’s death earlier this year has brought the trio to an end. Some fucking

BOOK REVIEW (continued from page 14)

be her downfall.

Feeling cooped up one night, Lutie goes to the bar on the corner, Junto’s, whose white proprietor observes Lutie drinking a beer, singing along with the jukebox, and being approached by the charismatic yet oily musician Boots Smith, who’s in his employ. Boots takes Lutie for a drive before his nightly band gig.

While Lutie’s afraid of the move he’ll next try to make, she’s also exhilarated by the drive, noticing in the moment they’re able Page 22 Red Hook Star-Revue

year we’re having); while on the other, he’s been playing solo concerts of free improvisations since the early ‘70s, and those have made him a star.

This leaves out a lot of great music in his discography, but I don’t have a couple hundred pages at my disposal at the moment.

(Jarrett is on a fundamental level exceptional at the keyboard. He has an additional serious career as a classical pianist, though the results are mixed, having to do with how he thinks about the music, not how he plays the piano. His solo Bach recordings are odd and often unpleasant, and his Mozart is stiff, as if he were playing technical exercises. But his Handel Keyboard Suites recording is excellent, and his set of the Shostakovich Preludes is one of the best there is. He also premiered Lou Harrison’s Piano Concerto, but his recordings of the Samuel Barber Piano Concerto and Bartók’s mighty Piano Concerto No. 3 are superficial. There is also a curious and obscure album of his classical compositions—chamber and orchestral music—titled Bridge of Light, and it is very, very good.)

The solo playing is what I want to focus on, because it has made Jarrett a truly remarkable and uniquely important modern musician. He established this with one album, the classic The Köln Concert—one hour and change of completely free improvisation that was a global bestseller. Although ECM does not release exact sales figures, a representative for the label has previously told me that the album has sold in the low-to-mid seven figures. This deserves some emphasis: an album of solo free improvisation has sold several million copies.

That gives Jarrett a cultural presence. His solo concerts challenge the received wisdom about free improvisation (especially jazz-based) in popular culture. He has over a dozen such recordings, including the massive Sun Bear concerts, and a substantial fandom among people who otherwise don’t listen to jazz. Certain albums, like Kind of Blue, have that reach, but we’re talking free improvisation here, music that has always been identified with the avant-grade in jazz and that lies beyond the fringes of popular culture. But Jarrett has never been identified with the avant-garde, nor the free-improv community.

Guitarist Derek Bailey, one of the great improvisers of the 20th century, introduced his essential book, Improvisation, by pointing out that “Improvisation enjoys the curious distinction of being the most widely practiced of musical activities, and the least acknowledged and understood.” The latter is

to speed past a white driver that it made them “feel good and the good feeling would last long enough so that they could hold up their heads the next day and the day after that.”

Boots asks Lutie to try out as a singer with his band. She fantasizes that this is the break she’s been waiting for. But Junto, the white man, pulls the strings on all of their fates.

The Street is a powerhouse of a novel. What will strike readers is how contemporary it seems and how relevant its ideas still are.

Lutie herself sees 116th Street as more than just the block she lives on. It’s representative of

Keith Jarrett no longer performs due to two strokes he suffered in 2018

true both of the public and a substantial number of jazz musicians as well. Free playing in jazz was, for the most part, founded by Ornette Coleman and Cecil Taylor, and furthered by Eric Dolphy, John Coltrane, Jackie McLean, Pharoah Sanders, the Art Ensemble of Chicago, and others.

These are great and important musicians and their stylistic contributions have defined free improvisation as something outside the changes, free of regular rhythm, phrasing, harmony, form, and often a heroic journey of existential expressionism and social and political freedom. Juxtaposed with this, Jarrett tends towards harmonic coherence, repeated four-bar phrases in a manner so familiar from baroque and classical music and popular songs, melodies that rise and fall, and a glowing sense of inner spirituality that embraces the listener. The formal elements (and it’s important to note that as the decades have gone by, Jarrett has incorporated a lot of sharply angular elements to his improvising, and even some atonality, without every losing connection with basic harmonies and melodies) make his music attractive to the ear, the final one forges a deep connection between he and his listeners. You could do worse, amazingly enough, than to put on The Köln Concert before a little getting down with your intimate partners.

Free improvisation is supposed to be weird, outsider, avant-grade music. And in Western consumer culture, it is just that. But that doesn’t mean that weird can’t be good or popular. And that weirdness has to do with how things are sold, not with how, as Bailey pointed out, they’re made. Keith Jarrett has been a spectacular and special conjuror of musical magic, with a personality that makes him eager to sit in front of thousands of people and create something from scratch, and a sense of beauty that has given the gift of joy and peace to his listeners.

May he be able to enjoy some of that himself.

“any place where the women had to work to support the families because the men couldn’t get jobs and the men got bored and pulled out and the kids were left without proper homes because there was nobody around to put a heart into it. Yes, it was any place where people were so damn poor they didn’t have time to do anything but work, and their bodies were the only source of relief from the pressure under which they lived.”

Characters have their unique motivations, to be certain, yet everyone also acts according to society’s strictly-established rules—even when it’s against their will. Even as situations

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demand softness and understanding, hardness becomes the only way to cope.

About one thing, Lutie is certain. “It all added up to the same thing, she decided—white people.

She hated them. And she would always hate them.” Nothing happens in The Street that will change Lutie’s mind. Instead—and this is the reason Petry’s novel continues to resonate seventy-four years later—you’ll understand why Lutie feels that way to begin with.

For white readers especially, it’s about time.

The Street by Ann Petry, Introduction

by Tayari Jones, 2020, Mariner Books, 378 pp

November 2020

Books by Quinn An ATM with a Wig On

T

he misleading title of Mariah Carey’s new memoir, The Meaning of Mariah Carey (written with Michaela Angela Davis), suggests an interpretation of the singer-songwriter’s public persona. After all, Carey’s had nineteen number-one hits—more than any other solo artist in history. What does it mean to be a household name?

Monroe obsession (Carey relates to both Monroe’s unstable childhood and star transformation), she proudly boasts of owning Monroe’s white piano: “it’s a treasure and my most expensive piece of art.” Yet it’s a throwaway observation—“Pianos are elegant, mystical, and comforting”—that reminds you that Carey actually knows her way around this instrument.

That’s a question never really addressed, let alone answered. One gets the feeling Davis has plugged Carey’s anecdotes into a standard rags-to-riches format. As with her music, Carey is fond of riffing, and you can feel the work Davis does here to wrangle these odd bits into a cohesive narrative.

Over 350 pages are divided into four parts: childhood, stardom, a major low point, and finding God. It bulges in places and is patch-bare in others. It hops around chronologically. Many points are emphasized, unfortunately, by adding the word “dahling.” Yet, like Carey herself, the story is always fascinating.

“I think if you are a woman, with an incredible voice, your musicianship gets underplayed,” Carey reflects at one point, discussing Aretha Franklin’s influence. That Carey believes this devaluation applies to her own craft is obvious. So it’s a puzzle while she doesn’t delve into the subject more deeply here. There’s scant mention of early influences, for example. Carey writes, “Stevie Wonder is my diamond standard,” but doesn’t unpack the reasons why.

The daughter of a Midwestern, Juilliard-trained, white mother, and a Bronx-born, military-strict, Black father, Carey’s sister (a drug-addicted teen mother) and brother (violent and unpredictable) are “both older and darker,” raised to address their parents as “Mother” and “Father” as if “the formality might elevate [the family’s mixed race] status to respectable.”

Carey’s parents split when she’s four. She experiences them separately. Their races confine them to two different worlds. So do their personalities: her mother’s bohemian slovenliness, her father’s austere discipline (he gives “little Mariah” a single Ritz cracker to quell her appetite before dinner).

Growing up in Suffolk County, Long Island, Carey “passes” as white, but feels like neither side of the family can truly embrace her as their own.

Drawing a family portrait at school, she’s teased by the adults in the room for having “used the wrong crayon” to color in her father’s skin. Another time, an elementary school friend, meeting Carey’s father for the first time, assumes he’ll be white.

She bursts into tears when this Black man opens the door.

Carey’s “matted, tangled mess” of hair is another badge of her otherness. She recalls, with a kind of wonder, the way a friend of her brother’s wordlessly, patiently picked out the knots on a drive to the beach when she was a little girl. (As if to commemorate the sacredness of this experience, a photo from this day is used on the book’s back cover.)

The family’s in-fighting is the only constant in Carey’s young life. She learns to self-soothe: “When I sang to myself, in a whispery tone, it calmed me down.” Her father doesn’t encourage her budding musicality, for a reason that doesn’t seem to cross her mind: perhaps he doesn’t want Carey to turn out like her mother.

Carey’s mother isn’t nurturing, but she’s the reason there’s music in the house. Carey recalls that “jamming with jazz musicians was close to a spiritual experience. There’s a creative energy that flows through the room. You learn to sit and listen to what the other musicians are doing, and you get inspired by a guitar riff or what the pianist is playing. When you are in a zone, it is a miraculous madness.”

It’s almost jolting to be reminded that, at her core, underneath the tight dresses, flashy jewelry, and windswept hair extensions, this is what Carey is: a musician. Musing about her lifelong Marilyn

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Carey’s own lyrics are quoted throughout the memoir, sometimes establishing a one-to-one relationship between song and the personal experience that inspired it. More surprising is her candidness about the merits of some of her songs, including one of her biggest hits, “Hero.” Written for a film, intended to be sung by Gloria Estefan, Carey calls it “fairly generic” and “a bit schmaltzy.”

Carey is equally blunt about her drive. “My career as an artist was the most important thing to me— it was the only thing,” she writes. From childhood, her “only goal” is to score a record deal: “It was as if I was holding my breath until I could hold a physical thing, an album that had ‘Mariah Carey’ printed on it.”

Carey books work as a backup singer while still in high school (also completing 500 hours of beauty school). She moves to the City, lives on a dollar a day (a budget often blown on an obsession with H&H bagels), works coat check in a sports bar, and pounds the pavement in a pair of her mother’s old black ankle boots, “a size and a half too small.”

Signing a shady producer’s crappy contract is worth it for one reason: Carey now has “The Demo,” the first compilation of all of her early musical ideas.

Other female backup vocalists, who take pity on Carey’s grumbling stomach and shabby clothes, take her under their wings and bring her to industry parties. At nineteen, in a borrowed black dress, black tights, slouchy socks, and Vans, she’s introduced to Sony record producer Tommy Mottola, “a potent combination of father figure, Svengali, business partner, confidant, and companion.

There was never really a strong sexual or physical attraction there, but at the time, I needed safety and stability.”

Carey spends a long time justifying this decision that will imprison her in a relationship for the next eight years. She’s determined as ever to succeed—“I became his new star just as he was beginning a huge position at a new label, so he had the influence to clear the runway for my ascension into the sky”—but her age and naiveté poignantly reveal themselves. “At the first real wedding I ever attended I was the bride,” she writes.

In Carey’s account, Mottola is a control freak.

Carey’s kept out of most of the pivotal meetings concerning her career, even as label executives refer to her as “The Franchise.”

builds her own dream mansion (not far from Sing Sing), which she realizes, as soon as construction’s done, is a different kind of prison, with Mottola as her warden.

Through the support of couple’s therapy, Carey begins venturing out on her own. She meets Derek Jeter at a fashion crowd dinner he crashes. It’s as if Jeter’s stepped out of one of her love songs (the Joe DiMaggio to her Monroe). Their romance is giddy and touchingly innocent. For Carey, “the intimacy of our shared racial experience was major.”

Striking out on her own—divorcing Mottola and, in a sense, her label—Carey’s career is upended with the release of the film Glitter. Meant to be a star-making vehicle, the quasi-autobiographical story (about a mixed race singer determined to be a 1980’s superstar) is slammed by critics, and opens on the same day as the attacks on the World Trade Center.

The first single debuts at No.2—a failure for a star of Carey’s stature. “Like a stand-up comic who bombed a set,” her guerilla publicity stunt— appearing on MTV’s Total Request Live (TRL) pushing a popsicle cart and doing an impromptu striptease—makes her the laughing stock of a nation. Sleep deprived, emotionally exhausted, she’s soon institutionalized.

“I did not ‘have a breakdown,” Carey insists. “I was broken down—by the very people who were supposed to keep me whole.” Carey blames her mother and brother, who sided with the label’s demands over Carey’s well-being. They see her as “an ATM…with a wig on,” she believes.

Religion proves to be a stabilizing force in Carey’s life, followed by a marriage to Nick Cannon, and motherhood. At a recording session while Carey’s pregnant with twins, Tony Bennett quips, “I never sang with a trio before.”

In The Meaning of Mariah Carey, Carey gives herself the same kind of happy ending you’d expect from romance novels and fairy tales. I don’t think this means her career is over. It’s just hard to see how it will continue to evolve. Carey’s hit on the winning formula—if not for innovation, at least for stability. “Being Mariah Carey is a job—my job,” she snaps. The meaning of that couldn’t be clearer.

Review of The Meaning of Mariah Carey by Mariah Carey with Michaela Angela Davis Review by Michael Quinn

Mottola whisks Carey away from her support network in the City to upstate New York, to his house in Hillsdale (which she calls “Hillsjail”).

Determined to enjoy her breakout success, Carey

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November 2020, Page 23

Holding up the building POLITICS BY HOWARD GRAUBARD

I

t may be a tad overoptimistic to say that, by the time most of you see this piece, the election will be over, but at least, in most cases, the voting itself will have been concluded (except for some of the folks still waiting on line in areas of Georgia with heavy minority populations).

This presents quite a dilemma for the political writer with a once a month deadline, falling at the worst possible time, whose thoughts will be rendered moot pretty much upon publication, as words intended to be timeless end up DOA. However, even writers who publish instantaneously face a world in which a Google search of what they said last week can render them into laughingstocks.

Lord knows that in the decade I spent as a political blogger, throwing someone’s words back at them ofttimes ended up a vehicle for a cheap laugh, if not always a salient point.

And yet, there are times when a writer aiming low ends up bringing us a message for the ages.

Sometime in the mid-seventies, as a high school or college student then entranced with E.L. Doctorow’s “Ragtime” and “Book of Daniel,” I came across a used paperback copy of a 1968 literary journal called the “New American Review” which contained what was then an otherwise uncollected short story by Doctorow, about a Dylan-like folk singer, called “The Songs of Billy Bathgate” (mostly unrelated to the later Doctorow novel, except that both protagonists were orphans).

I bought the collection for the Doctorow piece and then discovered it also contained a short story ostensibly about politics by Robert Coover called “The Cat in the Hat for President.”

At the time the story was published, Coover was also issuing his second novel. By contrast, this story seemed little but an amusing, albeit rather disturbing, trifle. The author clearly was not without political knowledge, as some of the minor details in the story rang true and savvy, but ultimately, the tale, obviously intended to be satirical, seemed to fail on its own terms.

It was not merely that the surreal contents were fantastical. We were, after all, then living in the aftermath of works like “Doctor Strangelove” and “The President’s Analyst.” Moreover, political satire had incorporated the cartoonish since before Gulliver began his first journey. But the race is not always to the Swift, and in Coover’s case, the problem was that this story seemed unrelatable to any politics a sane observer of the time might recognize.

But as clueless as Coover may have seemed in the late 60s, or even for decades beyond, this tale, later

Page 24 Red Hook Star-Revue

And to think that I saw it on Pennsylvania Avenue republished in somewhat different form as a novella called “A Political Fable,” seems oddly prescient today.

story, the Bannon-like character is rumored to have recovered the Cat’s chapeau, and there are rumored to be 26 more cats inside the Hat.

The narrator is the savvy Chair of a national political which seems almost certain to lose the next presidential election. However, the Party’s convention is disrupted by the arrival of Dr, Suess’ “The Cat in the Hat,” complete with his clean-up machine and companions resembling “Thing One” and “Thing Two.” The Cat declares himself a candidate, with the catchy slogan “I Can Lead it All by Myself.”

Meanwhile, the next Congress will almost certainly contain members who believe that the world is run by a cabal of Satan-worshiping pedophiles who operate a global child sex-trafficking ring.

At the nomination, the Cat rides in on roller skates, carrying a rake, with a cake, topped by a fish in a fishbowl; the Cat falls down, and the bowl floods the entire convention, and nearly everyone end up inside the fish. Eventually, helpless against the tide, the Party nominates The Cat.

As a slogan, “Return to Normalcy” worked for Warren Harding, and I am of the belief that the country wants a lot less excitement than it’s been getting from the White House. Joe Biden may be our dullest candidate since Walter Mondale, but in this election Biden’s dullness isn’t a bug, it’s a feature.

The Cat’s running mate is an otherwise dull Governor who spends his time rationalizing The Cat’s otherwise incomprehensible behavior in a manner just sane enough for the public to swallow.

Meanwhile, let us hope we all do not end up getting boiled in beezlenut oil because the cartoonish funhouse mirror we call the Electoral College, additionally cracked by Russian and homegrown disinformation, as well as voter suppression, has been rendered deaf to our cries to “We Are Here, We Are Here, We Are Here,” with the Cat in the Hat re-elected and morphing into Yertle the Turtle.

Basically, the public is told to take The Cat seriously, but not literally.

“Donald J. Trump, I don’t care HOW! Donald J. Trump, will you please go now?!”.

Despite a large popular following, the Cat almost totally lacks self-control and is impervious to adult supervision. In the end he manages to offend practically everyone. with his antics.

Sound familiar?

The Thing One and Thing Two characters, Joe and Ned, bear some resemblance to Junior and Eric, or perhaps Jared and Ivanka. The cynical campaign manager, Clark, is perhaps most reminiscent of Steve Bannon. The Cat’s chaotic clean-up machine fails to alter the reality of the Swamp; in fact, it mostly makes worse all it touches.

I would call Coover a great visionary, but ultimately his seemingly crazy vision fails because it is not crazy enough.

In the story, the Cat’s campaign aides end up tarred and feathered at one of their rallies, the running mate is assassinated, and The Cat is captured by a mob, tied upside down, skinned alive, roasted and eaten.

"The next Congress will almost certainly contain members who believe that the world is run by a cabal of Satan-worshiping

In the mid-70s this seemed to me grotesque, but reality topped it.

pedophiles who

In reality, we might not have eaten The Cat’s steaks, but, as a Nation, we ultimately swallowed him whole, actually putting him in the White House, where his performance is perhaps best analogized by comedian John Mullaney’s routine about a horse loose in a hospital (see: shorturl.at/invB6)

operate a global child sex-trafficking ring."

Even though sanity ultimately prevails in the Coover

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November 2020