In a personal observance of September 11th, my friend, former colleague and writer/filmmaker, Alex Mar, posted the compelling vintage photo above on Facebook last weekend, prefacing it with the preamble below….
Here's a random, ecstatic photo I found of a New Year's Eve party at Bethesda Fountain in Central Park, just a couple months after I was born. No matter how little of the city of my childhood remains, I will always love you, New York.
Now, I wouldn’t want to be so bold as to guess how old lovely Alex is, but if I had to — I’d say she’s a good few years my junior, which would conceivably date this photograph as being at some point in the mid-1970s, a projection further supported by some of the clothing on display.
Bethesda Fountain is still there, of course, but I think what Alex is referring to in this photograph is the sort of ramshackle aesthetic at work. I'm uncertain of the backstory, of course, but it looks like the gathered throng just kinda showed up, set up shop on the storied fountain and held a big fuckoff party (complete with band). Can you imagine that happening there today? I think they'd call a sniper if anyone dared to climb up to Bethesda's pedestal like that.
I am reminded of both that photograph from Shorpy I spoke of here a few years back of a graffiti-riddled incarnation of the fountain, as well as that proto-music video of Funkadelic playing "Cosmic Slop" in the shadow of the fountain (see below). This patch of the park, as memorably depicted in period-specific films like "Hair" and "Godspell," was a place to let your freak-flag fly. Again, I think that's what Alex is getting at when she refers to the "city of her childhood." Indeed, that place is gone.
In any case, I came across a similar old photograph this past weekend, also taken in Central Park shortly after I was born (probably closer to a year, though, I'm guessing), and it struck sort of a similar chord. Here's that photograph now...
Snapped just up the road a piece from Bethesda Fountain on the slope that extends from the Reservoir, this photograph was probably taken in about 1968, given my diminutive size. Yep, that tiny tot is me, probably just shy of a year old, or so. Now, this classic, lovingly composed picture would presumably be a richly significant artifact for my family if not for one, fairly crucial detail -- that's not my mother.
Obviously, I don't remember the particulars, but my mother and other concerned parties in the family sort of limply project that this fetching young lady was a babysitter of mine, but no one really seems to know for sure. The specifics of her identity, the circumstances of the day, the photographer who snapped it and how we came to possess it have all been lost in the mists of time. Funny, that.
Those mysteries notwithstanding, I love this photo for its composition, and for the topographical details. I love that it shows the old chainlink fence around the Rez, the classic Central Park lamppost and the faint spires of the Eldorado towers looming from Central Park West in the background. This particular spot was sort of a regular destination for us. My mother is very fond of telling an anecdote that would date back to at least four or five years after this photograph was taken involving me careening down the Reservoir slope on one of those metal plates kids used to sled on and slamming into a lady jogger who turned out to be Jackie Onasis. Apparently, I neglected to apologize and took back off up the hill again, much to my mortification of my mom. No clue if that's actually true, alas.
Like Alex Mar's pic up top, however, it's also worth remembering that in 1968, Central Park was still a hotbed of Vietnam war protests, muggings, rampant pot-smoking and groovy happenings and "be-ins." None of that is represented in the idyllic borders of this old photograph. I suppose New Yorkers like my parents just weathered the good with the bad and enjoyed Central Park for what it was ... warts and all.
Again, the comparatively lawless iterations of the Central Park of the 1960s and 1970s are long gone. Today, Bethesda Fountain is regularly choked with mobs of tourists and the Central Park Reservoir plays host to a sniffy nation of self-important joggers. The chainlink fence was taken out and a boring, shorter wrought-iron replacement was installed. The slopes that extended off the easterly side of the Rez are now largely overgrown. I don't believe that particular patch could even be accessed at this point.
Regardless of these and myriad other changes, -- like Ms. Mar -- I, too, will always love you, New York.
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