This house was once the site of an incredible homemade memorial (as of today, it still exists in Street View) to the Titanic, which sank 100 years ago this April, as well as an extensive collection of Titanic memorabilia. I remember being amazed at the sight of this place the first time I passed by and discovered it. It was the work of Joe Colletti, a lifelong resident of Long Island City who decided to move to Sunnyside because he didn't like the way the neighborhood was changing. (I assume that means he was sick of the new luxury condominiums popping up left and right.) He donated his collection to the Greater Astoria Historical Society, and it's good to know his 25 years of work will be preserved, but this block will always feel empty to me without Joe's memorial bursting out of 47-08. The only remnants of its existence are some small figurines, including the angels you see here, and some tracks left by the ivy that once ran up the side of the building.
I didn't intend to walk by Parking Rock today, but from a block away I could see that its population had doubled, and I had no choice but to come investigate.
At the Land Restoration Project Compound beneath the Queensboro Bridge. Some of this mulch is recycled Christmas trees — I saw more trees still waiting to be chipped.
That's the title of this series of photos displayed along a corrugated metal fence on Vernon Boulevard beneath the Queensboro Bridge. The description of this work (copied from a sign mounted on the fence) is a wonderful example of overblown artspeak:
Six photographs transpose the concealed environment behind the fence onto its face. These images of the existing environment were then re-photographed with cut emergency blankets and blue latex gloves captured in a falling state, suggesting precipitation, celebration and elusiveness — a fictive space. Neither the images nor the scene can ever be viewed in entirety, partially obscured by the flurry.
Located in Queensbridge Park, this monstrosity helps ventilate the 63rd Street Tunnel, which carries the F train between Queens and Manhattan.
Located in the overpass to the Queensboro Plaza subway station, which is served by the 7, N, and Q trains. (Back when the W existed, it stopped here instead of the Q.) NYC subway trivia: Queensboro Plaza is the only station in the system where you can make a cross-platform transfer between A Division and B Division trains.
You can see two 7 trains, Manhattan-bound (bottom) and Flushing-bound (top), on the elevated tracks.
Like almost all NYC playground animals, these birds owe their existence to Henry Stern.
Playground maps rule! This one, which I couldn't even fit in the shot, shows the five boroughs of NYC. In case you're pondering the significance of the windmill: it's part of the city seal.
Come for the Animal Husbandry, stay for the Yeast Connection.
It reads: "All Cars Transfer to Bloomingdale's", a slogan born 110 years ago.
On the base of a sundial near the Citicorp Building. Maria Hernandez was an anti-drug community activist shot to death in 1989. Brian Watkins was a tourist from Utah stabbed to death in 1990 trying to defend his mother in a subway mugging. I can't find anything about Vincent C. McNeill (surveyor) or Joseph E. McGrath (educator); perhaps they were also killed around 1990, when the Citicorp Building opened.
