The timing isn't excellent, I have to say. On the same day my friend basically accuses me of fetishizing the past, I uncover a cache of my old photographs from the 1990s that had been sequestered away in my storage space. Truthfully, I'm still smarting from our exchange and have been feeling pretty gun-shy about doing any further posting here. As I said back on this post, this weblog has garnered its fair share of detractors over the years, -- and I usually ignore and/or laugh them off -- but every now and then, one well-placed bit of cogent criticism is capable of taking all the wind out of my sails. As such, I'm feeling extremely cautious about what I'm putting up here.
In any case, the following pictures are just a handful of ones I picked out of places and things that are simply no longer there. Some may have resonance for you and some may not. These were shots that, for reason or another, never made it into any of my photo albums (what an antiquated notion), so I'm afraid I don't have a lot of documentation about them. All I can say is that they were taken between approximately 1996 and 2000. I thought they were kind of interesting. You, of course, may beg to differ. Click on them to enlarge.
295 Bowery, otherwise known as the former site of McGurk's Suicide Hall
The marquee of the Art Greenwich Twin movie theater at 97 Greenwich Avenue. This was torn down in 2000. A massive health club now stands in its place.
"Casa-O-Muerte," seen hanging from a squatter's house somewhere in Alphabet City.
The Hog Pit's original location on 9th Avenue in the Meatpacking District. I believe this spot is now a Ralph Lauren shop, but I can't be sure.
The sign for The Village Idiot, an old divey roadhouse on West 14th Street frequented by all-day drinkers and an aquarium inexplicably populated by live snapping turtles.
The entrance to The Manhole, a gay/bondage bar on 9th Avenue just to the north of the Hog Pit.
Rocks in Your Head, inarguably Soho's best music shop (not that it had all that much competition). Sorely, sorely missed by yours truly. It's now a real estate agency.
The window of Stooz Records on East 7th Street. Not the greatest shop in the world, but there were bargains to be found here if you were patient. Now a Greek restaurant, if memory serves.
The closed gate of Wetlands Preserve on the corner of Laight Street in TriBeCa, the epicenter of the dreaded "jam band" scene, but also an excellent live venue for myriad other artists. I was fortunate enough to have witnessed everyone from Dread Zeppelin through Britpop also-rans Echobelly in its intimate interior. I want to say its some sort of high end furniture outlet now.
That's all for now, although there may be more coming soon. We'll see.