This block-long, half-paved street was once part of the route of a New York and Queens County Railway trolley line, and it may be a remnant of a much older road that ran through Long Island City.
Reflecting the Hellenic heritage of Astoria's many Greek residents
This is the beginning of a mural, painted on the side of PS 17 in Queens, honoring (what I presume to be) the countries of origin of its students and their families. There are many, many countries represented; here are a few examples. I really love this mural, but it does offer some lessons in the difficulty of condensing a country's history into the names of a few famous individuals.
This tree's partial digestion of a Belgian block has preserved a trace of the original stones that once surrounded it.
This was once the main channel of the Astoria Scum River, which has since been diverted underground thanks to a successful public works project undertaken by a good friend of ours.
A 1954 Something-or-Another. The guy sitting inside it said he drives it because the insurance rates are really low.
(Cameo by the Queensboro Bridge.)
An alarm? A vent? I cannot figure it out. I've seen a handful of these poles around town, but they remain a mystery to me.
The foundation excavation has created some nice sand dunes.
Large and in charge, James is directing work (including replacement of the rails you see here) on the elevated Flushing Line, part of the extensive signal, track, and station improvements that have been disrupting 7 train service on the weekends. He also told me, very enthusiastically, about the other MTA projects that I need to go see, and he did a little bragging about his days as a skilled cricket player back in his native Guyana.
These broken chunks of concrete are remnants from the reconstruction of Queens Plaza, and they've been given a second life as part of this striking new streetscape.
You may remember meeting Young Jee earlier on this journey, but if not, you can read about him here, here, and then here.
Anyway, he just emailed me some photos of his creations (including this one of his recent work taken from high up a nearby hill), as well as a few shots of his feathered friends from Inwood Hill Park. I've posted some of my favorites in a set on Flickr for your viewing pleasure.
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.
