From his 1989 NY Times obituary:
Mr. Mapplethorpe first gained widespread notice in the late 1970's for his elegantly composed, beautifully printed black-and-white photographs of the male figure, many of which were explicitly homoerotic. But he photographed the female nude with equal stylishness. Throughout his career he made portraits and still lifes of an almost sublime simplicity and intensity.
His photographs show a remarkable ability to give even the most common photographic subjects the status of icons.
Angelo Siciliano was a "97-pound weakling" who transformed himself into Charles Atlas, the millionaire muscleman with the famously advertised mail-order fitness course.
for the flamboyant Dapper Don
A massive community mausoleum at St. John Cemetery
They're running out of places to bury people here at St. John Cemetery. In the photo above, we can see the former route of a path that has been removed (before and after) to make room for more graves.
This structure, officially known as the Benjamin S. Rosenthal Post Office Building (it was renamed for a former congressman whose district office was located in the building), looks like it's in better shape than it was a year ago.
According to its listing on the National Register of Historic Places:
The building is the most distinguished of the Colonial Revival post offices erected in New York City during the 1930s, one of the most prolific periods of post office construction in the nation’s history. . . .
In addition to its architectural significance, the Flushing Post Office contains an artistically significant mural which runs around the entire lobby. This mural was commissioned by the Public Works of Art [Project] from Vincent Aderente and executed in 1933-4.
of The Glen, a circa-1963 apartment building
This is one of two blue Atlas cedars flanking the Queens Botanical Garden's tree sculpture entrance on Main Street. The trees have been part of the garden since its first incarnation as the Gardens on Parade exhibit at the 1939-40 World's Fair. When the garden moved to its current site to make way for the 1964-65 World's Fair, the trees moved with it.
at the Queens Botanical Garden. A plaque at the base of this tree sculpture reads: "A symbol of strength and renewal, this tree is dedicated to the victims and heroes of 9/11 and to the power of hope, healing, and community."