Prospect Park

Summer is finally here, and one of the greatest parts of living in Park Slope, is the proximity to Prospect Park. I like it better than Central Park, in many ways, and not just because it's three blocks from my apartment as opposed to a 30+ min subway ride.

Both have the same style, having been designed by Frederick L. Olmsted, but Prospect Park was designed later, so it's supposed to be the park he was proudest of. The landscape architecture geek in me really digs this. Additionally, Prospect has a more intimate feel from Central, less tourists, more people just sunbathing and having picnics. It feels more like a park for the neighborhood, where people are there to truly use the open space for it's intended purpose.

I had some fun taking pictures, playing with the macros and light settings.

REACH, An Urban Musical Instrument

This interactive musical chimes art installation has been on display since 1996, but apparently, even though for 8 months I used the Herald Square subway stop every day, I was too oblivious to notice it. And now, that I frequent the 6 and am getting better acquainted with the Union Square stop, now that I only come to Herald Square when I'm meeting up with Nate, now I notice this green installation. What is it about human brain that only observes closely the unfamiliar?

It's quite wonderful. To quote the NYC Subway website: "This piece consists of a rack hanging along each platform with sensors along the length. Waving your hand in front of a sensor creates a corresponding sound from the rack-- on the other side of the station. People on the opposite platforms can interact using the instrument."

Times Square is car-free

Times Square is now Pedestrian-only along Broadway Avenue. I'd heard about it, I'd read about it (this is a great article on the urban planning and transportation rerouting involved in the process: New York Magazine), but I hadn't seen it with my very own eyes yet.

It's incredible, Times Square is once again new and filled with possibility. It's reborn as a pedestrian haven, where one can lounge on the public chairs, and admire the crazy lights without fear of being trampled by taxis.

What I like about it is that it's not just a nod to tourism, by making it easier for visitors to see one of NY's most famous landmarks. As an urban intervention, it's a wonderful step in the "right" direction of a more landscape-unrbanist city. I'm excited about the end game being a linear park on Broadway dissecting the city, it's better for quality of life, adds an element of green to the urbanscape, and I also believe it will help congestion by forcing people to spread their choices rather than bottle necking on Broadway.

I'm excited about it, and can't wait to see this project continue. Janetter Sadik-Khan, transportation commissioner, are you hiring? I'm an urban designer wanting to do more transit alternatives and city-wide pedestrian initiatives. Seriously, a Jane Jacobs sensibility meeting Robert Moses scale? This rocks!

Empire State

Last Saturday Nate and I went to Manhattan to look for specialty paper. We are working on the invitations, and have been delightfully geeking out on the design.

As we were walking on 6th Avenue, I saw this awesomely ironic patriotic moment.

Lately, I've become interested in how the Empire State Building fits into the city fabric, but from an experiential point of view. It has a strange visual relationship; it's such a lonely high rise. The greatest density of skyscrapers is downtown in the financial district, near the twin towers site. The Empire State is out of context surrounded by the mid rises of midtown, the height difference is jarring. This is partly why it's visible from so many parts of the city; it acts like a lighthouse providing an anchor to orient oneself when lost. I look at it, and I get a sense if I'm walking uptown, west/east. In contrast, it's almost invisible when one is standing near it. The surrounding buildings block the view, and even if you can see it, it's so tall that you don't even notice it after a while.

I have been taking photographs of the ESB for a few months now, trying to capture it from different angles, location, and light conditions. It's a fun ongoing project.

BKLYN Yard

It feels like the Gowanus area is becoming quite trendy. Just a couple of weeks ago I went there to watch the Lost Finale, and then last Saturday, Kevin invited me to go to BKLYN Yard along with some friends.

I have a soft spot for the Gowanus Canal. I know the general consensus is that it's polluted, and the area, currently full of warehouses and industrial activity, ripe for redevelopment. But I always feel like I am in a little piece of Holland whenever I walk by. The density lowers, the canal is lined with moss, and there's a certain quietness that is remarkable considering this area's proximity to busier parts of Brooklyn. From a very selfish standpoint, I want to Canal to remain as is. It feels like a safe haven, much like people see Prospect Park. I also realize that I like if because of the Netherlands connection, it's like a little piece of childhood right in front of me.

From what I'm gathering, BKLYN Yard is an open lot, along the water, that is undeveloped. This might be site related (flood zone, brownfield, etc), or simply that gentrification hasn't gotten to it yet. In any case, right next to the Carroll Bridge, this site opens up as if from nowhere, full of motley chairs and tables, and filled with people.

The event had Red Hook vendors selling food, along with a DJ keeping entertainment. The lines were ridiculous, and the only food choices fajitas and organic pizzas, so we saved our energy and only had PBRs. Curiously, the beer line was incredibly short. Apparently, similar events happen every summer weeend, so I am curious as to whether the crowd was the typical one, or if everyone was out because of Memorial Day weekend.

I'm glad Kevin called me up for this. He seems to be really good about knowing events going on through the city, specially the "cooler" variety. His friends got there much later than we did, so I fear that I might have been affecting his game for a bit there. Then again, it could also be his very peculiar sunglasses.


It seems that summer is finally here, though it thought its coming in spurts a few days at a time. It's pretty standard, I guess, I'm just glad that this weekend happened to coincide with the 80-degree weather.

St Augustine Roman Catholic

The wedding preparations continue (which makes it sound much more hardcore than it really is). Like proper family folk, Nate and I have decided to have two separate celebrations: one to address his Texas family and US traditions, and one in Peru for my side. And the Peruvian one, as custom suggests and dictates, will be a catholic ceremony.

Which sounds great and all, but I haven't attended church regularly since... uh, my first communion? I have a lot of catching up to do. I have to get confirmed (which includes classes, finding a sponsor and doing the ritual), and Nate and I have to attend the Pre-Cana workshop and do some premarital sessions with a priest. We are doing all the preparatory bureaucratic paperwork here in Brooklyn, which will then be sent over to the Archdiocese in Lima. It seems to be a pretty standard process. I hope.

Well, today was our first meeting with the Priest, and he was very nice and welcoming. I decided on St. Augustine Church mostly because they are located a block from my apartment, but based on how they've been so far I would have picked them even if they were THREE blocks away. Everyone has been nice and welcoming, and specially, so willing to work with us through this process.

Not confirmed? No problem, you are welcome to the classes. Had to miss the first two sessions because you were in Texas? No problem, you can make them up, no big deal. Nate is not Catholic? No problem, this is common, just need some proof that he is baptized. Don't have a certificate? No problem, we can work it out with you as needed. I really get the sense that they are on my side, and happy to be helpful.

If more churches had been like this when I first moved to Austin (St. Austin's, I am looking at you and your wretched school), I might not have had such a negative reaction to the Catholics in the US. It turns out, maybe it was just St. Austins that sucked, because so far St. Augustine seems to be very much like what I remember churches being like in Lima.

The building is old, and, well, it reminds me of a church. I sound like an untrained layman, because a deeply rooted part of me wants Church to look old and solid, like the stones have been around longer than my grandparents. This must be the same deeply ingrained part of me that remembers all the prayers in Spanish, and knows instinctively when to stand/sit and answer the priest while in mass. The architect in me considers this ludicrous and wants me to fight my baser instincts. But there you go, I like St. Augustine because it looks like what a proper Catholic church should look like.

It's curious for me to have a church a block away, and Park Slope is filled with churches, of all sorts of denominations. I know Texas is a god-fearing state, but I have never felt so surrounded by places of worship than when I moved to NYC. Must be the density, because every two blocks, there is another church popping up, happily reminding me that Sunday is coming up, and uh... god is watching? The cultural catholic guilt is a hard one to get rid of.

Nate and I went on a walk this morning after our meeting with the Priest, and I decided to embrace the day and take pictures of the churches we saw on the way. We must have walked about a half hour or so, went to get coffee and enjoyed the pretty weather.

The seemingly excessive amount of churches, which I had noticed before, must be part of what makes this neighborhood feel so authentic. I am not saying that a place of worship is necessary for the longevity of a community, but rather, a diversity of services is what makes a neighborhood sustainable. We, as residents, need to know that there is a church within a walking radius us, just like we need a library, cleaners, doctors, daycare, gyms, shoe repair, electronics, groceries, cafes, etc. And even though I don't patronize many of the aforementioned services , it matters to me that they exist. The day that I need one (like say now, when I am going through the wedding preparation process), I can walk five minutes and be there. I don't even have to leave the neighborhood. And that's part of what makes Park Slope such a sustainable piece of urban fabric.

Ozzie's Coffee - The Third Place

In Urban Design, there is a term for informal gathering spaces, coined by Ray Oldenburg, called the Third Place: “a setting beyond home and work (the “first” and “second” places respectively) in which people relax in good company and do so in regular basis.”

This becomes that hub in a community, the place where people go to meet people, to be aware of what is happening around them, to see and be seen. Such as coffee shops, community centers, bars with the same regulars for happy hour, that type of place. I have been fascinated for a while by the ongoing discussion of how Third Places fit with modern cities. Modern American city planning encourages nesting – think of suburban homes becoming larger and larger, including private pools, movie-viewing rooms, space for a full bar, private decks, etc. Entertainment becomes a private notion rather than being in a public setting. Even suburban clubhouses are private in nature, as they require a type of membership for use – living there. I have an entire schpeal about suburban city planning, but I wont kick a puppy while it’s down, as suburban developments haven’t been doing well lately.

Some people also feel that the Internet acts as a Third Place. I find this concept to be very interesting and spent, in fact, an entire semester of graduate school discussing this in class – digital communities, social networking, forums, multi-user games, etc. And though I agree with the functionality of the web as a tool for socialization, personally I crave physical proximity. Third Places persist, as they are in many ways a vital part of how we interact with the world. We still find coffee shops and places that are of a public nature, where we can democratically intermingle with the community.

Oldenburg said "The character of a third place is determined most of all by its regular clientele and is marked by a playful mood, which contrasts with people's more serious involvement in other spheres. Though a radically different kind of setting for a home, the third place is remarkably similar to a good home in the psychological comfort and support that it extends…They are the heart of a community's social vitality, the grassroots of democracy, but sadly, they constitute a diminishing aspect of the American social landscape.”

I realized today that Ozzie’s, a coffee shop in my neighborhood, might just be a perfect Third Place by every definition.

I wrote about Ozzie’s a few days ago, in my search for good coffee shops in which to study. I went today to the main location on 5th Avenue, a few blocks from my house. The 5th Avenue location is larger, brighter, with bigger tables and more windows, a nicer model to the smaller location in front of my house. And as I discovered today, it is also a great community hub.

For starters, a major characteristic of Third Places is that they tend to be from the community to the community. Ozzie’s is locally owned and only has two locations, both in the neighborhood. They also have a major wall to a bulletin board advertising everything from guitar lessons, moving services (“a guy with a truck”), to tutoring and computer services. Nothing too crazy, but it’s always nice to see home made ads. There is also a bookshelf for free book exchanges, free wi-fi, computer and printers on a pay as you go basis, a full table with local magazines and newspapers, sandwiches, and board game night on Thursdays.

The thing that really got me, though, was that people were using the space. I was sitting across from a young hipster mommy group. Six or so young mothers and their babies, drinking coffee and conversing about movies or whatever, all the while breastfeeding, burping their children, and balancing them around with expert ease. Yes, the kids were a bit loud, but no one complained. This is a child friendly establishment. Probably because the rest of the clientele was, respectively, an old couple reading the newspaper, a group of teenage girls giggling about boys, 6 or so tables with students and their laptops, some young people reading books, 3-4 tables with kids being tutored in math, and some parents who were waiting for their kids to meet them there after school. Everyone had a stake in the place. And it made me realize that Ozzie’s, along with selling coffee and pastries, is providing the community with a basic gathering point. People know a meeting space is their at their convenience, and this is powerful knowledge.

It was one of those moments where all the things I learned in school clicked in a whole new personal way. The nerdy urban designer in me had a totally exhilarating moment. My “cool” façade betrayed nothing. I feel like I could geek out on this for hours, and go into my excited rants of how amazing it is to live in a medium-density vibrant mixed-use neighborhood, but I think I should finish.

After all, my reason for coffee shop searching was to study for LEED. And I still need to get some reading done tonight.

Museum of Art and Design

Every once in while, our hectic schedules work themselves out in wonderful ways. I had a volleyball game at 9 pm on Thursday; which was a bit annoying because Thursday is not our usual game night, and man, that's late. I like earlier games since then it's more likely everyone will go out for happy hour.

Then I saw on the Internet that Thursday nights are pay-as-you-wish nights at the Museum of Arts and Design from 6 to 9pm. And this museum also happens to be at the closest subway stop to my volleyball game. This would give me plenty of time to check out the exhibit for a couple of hours, and then head off to my volleyball game at 8:30. I was very excited, the MAD just opened it's new location in September of last year, and after walking by it when construction was wrapping up, I was really curious of what was inside.

I know there's been some controversy over the Museum of Arts and Design building. In all honesty, I don't feel qualified to fully weigh in since I didn't see the old building and how it fit in it's urban and historic context. What I can say is that every time I go to Columbus Circle, I feel part of that old New York glamour I used to see in the movies. This is also because of the Time Warner center, despite some urban design issues, is a glamorous building I really like. I don't see how the old building would have fit there.

The MAD building looks alien, it's massing and fenestration feel a bit arbitrary (does it really say HI on the facade?), and it reminds me of the New Museum. From the first time I saw the building, I could tell it was new and probably polemic, since it seems to be purposely not blending into its context. I have mixed feelings about this. From all the pictures I've seen of the old building, it seems like it lacked presence and the ability to energize the area. This new building is making a statement, and after all, isn't that what we need and expect from art museums?

If an art museum isn't allowed to be bold, weird, controversial and potentially ugly, then what is?

I am a preservationist as much as the next person, but mostly, I believe that cities need to move forward and re-energize areas with new building and public infrastructure. However, we need a comprehensive urban plan, so taht the "new" doesn't complety destroy and compromise the existing. The "existing" needs to be protected, as it carries with it history, community, and an intergral part of urban identity. That fine line between preserving the past and embracing the future tends to be filled with public outcries from every possible place. I get intellectually stimulated with these kinds of discussions. I could geek out for hours.

But I was talking about the Museum of Arts and Design

The exhibition space is not that big. I'm glad I went on the "free" night. I was completely underwhelmed by the permanent collection, and felt that though it was pretty, it was nothing I wouldn't be able to see at an upscale furniture and craft store. Same for the jewelry permanent collection, though there were a few pieces that I would love to wear.

The current exhibit, Second Lives: Remixing the Ordinary, was amazing though. I loved it.



from the MAD website:

The exhibition features work by 50 international established and emerging artists from all five continents who create objects and installations comprised of ordinary and everyday manufactured articles, most originally made for another functional purpose.

I have long held a fascination with refurbishing objects in new ways. Reusing materials- be they found objects, recycled or trash- and given a new useful purpose. Not just a contemporary art installation, but an actual daily function. There is a beauty to bricolage. I find this type of creative use of materials, re-envisioning their texture, shape, weight, color and properties, to be incredibly creative and very invigorating. Its a form of recycling, where the original object doesn't lose it's original integrity, it just changes function and identity.

Among my favorite pieces: chandelier made of eyeglasses, dress made from latex gloves (picture above), collage of garment worker made with clothing labels, Mona Lisa made with sewing thread (detail above), pyramid from plastic spoons, LP record butterflies (picture above).

The other current exhibit was "Totally Rad" a collection by designer Karim Rashid of new inventive radiator designs. Really elegant ideas, and very beautiful. I would take one of those radiators any day over the dirty generic one I have. There is no reason why functional appliances can't have an inherent design integrity of their own.

photos courtesy of Museum of Art and Design