Coney Island, Brooklyn

Step right up folks! Step right up! Shoot the Freak! Ride the wheel! Come get your hotdogs! Let me read your fortune! Step right up... These are the cries you would probably hear walking down the boardwalk at Coney Island, Brooklyn thirty or forty years ago. Now you'll hear the empty sound of a crushed Coke tin rattling along the ground or the odd emaciated pigeon scraw. You'll here the squeek of rusty metal signs blowing back and forth in the wind and read signs like 'Going out of Business', 'Last Summer in Business' etc etc. When walking around Coney Island, you can't help but feel you're in some abandoned English sea-side town like Blackpool.


This was much more eery than Blackpool. Blackpool stills attracts drunken stags and tarty hens. It still attracts old grannies looking for afternoon tea and scones and naughty teens skipping school, smoking ciggies under the peer. Coney Island seemed to attract nobody. There was hardly anyone around; the beach was pretty much deserted. Graffiti covered every surface, everything tired and shut down. It reeked of the stench of dead memories. Of 1920's swimming costumes or Woody Allen's imaginary childhood in 'Annie Hall'. It seemed so sad to me and the melancholy of the place weighed down on me, seperating my experience from those who rode 'The Cyclone' and swam in the sea.



To get to Coney Island we got on the Q subway train. Even if we didn't have a destination, it was still a fantastic way to sight see. From under the ground we emerged and travelled over one of the bridges to Brooklyn. The whole of Manhattan passed by us. What a view! We ate Macdonald's and I must say it was the best quarter pounder I've had in my life (so, if that's not a reason to go I don't know what is!).


How surreal it was to run on a beach when a couple of hours before we were stepping over giants grids on a Manhattan sidewalk. If I lived in New York I would come here all the time. Quiet, relaxing and steeped in history, it's a wonder why more people (tourists really) don't come here. Aren't you slightly curious?

Vinegar Hill, Brooklyn

Whilst strolling away from the DUMBO we began our search for Vinegar Hill. When found it (it's about a ten minute walk from Broolyn Bridge) I was more than surpised. It's about two streets long and trapped in a complete time warp. The original settlers were the Irish back in the 19th Century and the area has completely maintained its look. Cobbled streets, quaint houses, painted wooden benches, potted plants and white picket fences. And just a stones throw away from giant, grey tower blocks, noisy cars and a drive-thru Macdonald's. Aesthetically, Vinegar Hill was the most beautiful place we saw in New York and the atmosphere was calm and settled, like a tiny villiage in suburbia.


Scattered around are a few industrial buildings, quite like Red Hook. You'd think that they'd stick out like eye-soares, so different from the 19th Century Federal style buildings that surround them. In fact, they sit perfectly among them, wise and stoic, unnused for decades. With the rusty telephone wires and the dark greys and browns of the cobbled streets, they balance what would be a very flat area, stretching into the sky with grace and elegance.

There were a lot of shop fronts, like the one below, scattered everywhere. Like in Red Hook, they seemunnused yet such important focal points of the area. I absolutely loved these shops; they were just so surreal. Were the funeral parlours? Or boutiques? i loved the symmetry of the windows,they seemed so editorial to me.

After following a long, winding cobbled path we were greeted by a giant pair of wrought iron gates. These gates were about ten feet high and what they protected came as a complete surprise. An absolutely giant mansion rested in the sun. What can only be described as a Plantation House, made from wooden slats and dark grey shutters; it was probably one of the most beautiful building I have ever seen. Who'd have thought a building like this sits hidden away in concrete covered Brooklyn? A tourist's dream. According to brownstoner.com, the house was built in the beginning of the 19th Century (1805-1806) and was given the name'The Commandants House'. If you find yourself in Brooklyn, make sure you go find this house. The hunt for it is fun (even more fun if you stumble upon it by accident) and the result is totally worth it.

As surreal an area it was, we noticed it attracted similar kinds of people to Red Hook. Perhaps slightly older and less on the art scene. Some upper-middle class men jogged passed us, Ipods plugged in, their Golden Retrievers loyally at their side. A lot of women with Buggaboo strollers, some cute kids in prep-school uniform. I'm guessing a house here would probably cost as much as an apartment in Manhattan. But when we were in a Starbucks in DUMBO and asked after the area, the guy behind the till shrugged, claiming he'd never heard of it. Either Vinegar Hill is as unimportant to New Yorker's as Croydon is to Londoner's or it's so tucked away and up-and -coming that only the trendiest of the trendies, the cultural of the cultured know about it. If that's the case then my boyfriend and I felt like some very smug tourists. If it's the former then what a shame. Such a beautiful area deserves to be a household name.

When we walked around Vinegar Hill we said to ourselves 'this is what we thought real America would be like'. If you do find yourself here, you'll know exactly what we mean. It hasn't been influenced by any mainstream businesses but it isn't primitive. The architecture could not be seen in any other country (it reminded me of San Francisco a bit as well) and walking around the tiny, quiet streets is a very unique experience. Make sure you come here!

Red Hook, Brooklyn

Our NY travellings took us to Red Hook deep in the heart of Brooklyn. My friend had told me about the area before we left England. From what she'd read about it she described it as an up-and-coming Williamsburg, as the area is beginning to brag of the odd trendy boutique and bar. I expected to see Peaches Geldof swanning her round, spitting her lisp and poisonous personality at anyone who crossed her path. I expected the odd Agyness Deyn wannabe on a bicycle with a wicker basket or some Gaurdian reader talking about the post-modern signifance of Harry Potter but it was nothing like that at all. It was one of the wierdest places I've ever been to.

Once ranked one of New York's most dangerous neighbourhoods, Red Hook creeps into the East River and mourns the loss of it's once powerful industrial prowess. It was once a villiage seperate from the rest Brooklyn and in 1636 the Dutch colonists settled in the area. With its buildings built on red clay and it bieng the only area to face the Statue of Liberty face on, it's a pretty special place. As the area is right by the water, it was once a very important docking town, where food and others goods were imported and exported on the regular basis. Perhaps with the expansion of other means of transport, this industry slowly crept away.

Now sit old warehouses, drowning in rust; the high slatted walls covered in graffiti (this was the only are we saw, apart from Williamsburg, that featured a lot of graffiti. Manhattan was totally clean of it, the subways bieng on partially covered). Boats wait stoically by the dock, bobbing from side to side like forgotten cola cans thrown into the sea. Houses that were once nestled between other houses stand alone, their neighbours bieng victims to demolition and neglect. There are hardly any people around and it felt as though Manhattan was a myth, distant in memory and feeling. Perhaps this is because it's pretty hard to get here. There are hardly any subway stops and few buses. It is possible to get the ferry but again, finding out where that docks was pretty much impossible.

We got on the F train and exited in a very fancy area of large houses and Christmas light displays. One man told us to come and see him turn his on (actually he yeld it to us when we were on the other side of the street. 'Come see my light diplay later on folks!' Ah, Americans.) and bratty kids with stuck up parents admired them as their mummies dragged them away. It was a smaller Manhattan, wealthy and unubashed about it and and I thought 'Is this it?' Then you cross and motorway over a bridge and carry on walking. You pass car parks, big billboards and industrial estates and you just have to follow your instincts till you reach the rusty browns and greys of this tiny, isolated place. When we got there we made sure we left before dark as it would have been a nigtmare trying to find our way back.

Red Hook is now known as a 'Residustrial' area. Artists, musicians and the odd business man are beginning to flock here. They should do it quickly before the prices saw like they always do in The City That Never Sleeps. There is an absoultely giant food 'mart' which caters to the clientel the area is beginning to attract. They stock organic everything, European anything. Who would have thought you could find Mars Bars, Kit Kats, CocoPops, HobNobs and Mr Kipling in the middle of desolate Brooklyn. That was when we realised Red Hook isn't as shabby as it seems. Shabby chic. How horribly standard. Unlike Williamsburg, however, the area still holds so much charm, such authenticity. We had been in Manhattan for about two and a half weeks and it was only when we got into areas of Brooklyn that we felt we were in America. Real America, not Sex and The City America.

The area had the simplicity of Vinegar Hill but, like Vinegar Hill also, it felt rich in culture. It's culture untouched by savvy New York PR gurus, untouched by tourists with cameras, untouched by Burger Kings and Duane Reades. It seemed as though it were completely content in just being itself and I imagine it looked exactly how it looked in the turn of the 20'th century. I completely loved this area. I loved its surrealness. The feeling of a ghost town slowly waking up. I can;t wait to go back in a couple fo years and see how it's changed. I just pray it doesn't become another Shoreditch wannabe. I hope it stays true to itself always and forever.

Last Chance Exhibitions

Damien Hirst: Nothing Matters
White Cube Gallery
ENDS: 30TH JAN, 2010


http://www.whitecube.com/exhibitions/

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Fantasies, Follies and Disasters: The Prints of Francisco De Goya
Manchester Art Gallery
ENDS: 31ST JAN, 2010

'Discover Goya's extraordinary use of imagination, wit and satire in this exhibition of around 30 rarely-displayed prints from our collections. Exhibits are taken from the artist's three main groups of etchings: The Fantasies, The Disasters of War and The Follies, all of which were withdrawn or withheld from publication publication during his lifetime because of their controversial, disturbing or strange qualities.'


http://www.manchestergalleries.org/whats-on/exhibitions/index.php?itemID=61

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Beatles to Bowie: The 60's Exposed
National Portrait Gallery
ENDS: 24TH JAN, 2010

'This major exhibition explores the leading pop music personalities who helped create 'Swinging London' in the 1960s. Over 150 photographs, together with a range of memorabilia, illustrate how the photographic image, music and performance made these popstars the leading icons of their time.'


http://www.npg.org.uk:8080/beatles/exhib.htm

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Future Fashion Now: New Design from the Royal College of Art
V&A Museum
ENDS: 31ST JAN, 2010


'Showcasing highlights from the Royal College of Art (RCA) fashion MA graduates' final collections, this display will feature over 50 outfits and accessories from an oversize handbag to a leopard print suit. As well as women's wear, knitwear, millinery and footwear design, the display will reveal aspects of the design process including preliminary sketches, illustrations, and models to explore the design stages the students go through to create their final collection, from their inspiration to the finished garment.'


http://www.vam.ac.uk/collections/fashion/Future_Fashion_Now/index.html

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Turner and The Masters
Tate Britian
ENDS: 31ST JAN, 2010


'This unforgettable show places beautiful masterpieces by Canaletto, Rubens, Rembrandt and Titian next to some of JMW Turner's most dramatic paintings. It shines light on a lesser-known side of the British Romantic painter: his obsession to prove he was just as good, if not better, than the old masters who he so admired.'


http://www.tate.org.uk/britain/exhibitions/turnerandthemasters/default.shtm

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Earth: Art of a Changing World
GSK Contemporary Season 2009, The Royal Academy of Arts
ENDS: 21ST JAN, 2010


'GSK Contemporary, Earth: Art of a changing world is the second annual contemporary art season at 6 Burlington Gardens. The exhibition presents new and recent work from more than 30 leading international contemporary artists, including commissions and new works from the best emerging talent.'


http://www.royalacademy.org.uk/exhibitions/gsk-contemporary-season-2009/

Must See!! Last Chance Exhibition: The Sacred Made Real

From everything I've heard (and everything I've seen) this exhibition is a complete must see. Even if you're not a fan of religious art, or even art, it's been the buzz exhibition of past few months. And I've yet to go, damn it. Looking back on religious art from the Spanish Golden Age (1600-1700), amazing polychrome wood sculptures are placed side by side with paintings from masters like Velazquez and more. Apparently, the sculptures are so true to life stadning next to them is an eery and surreal experience.



It's amazing that they still exist, as many were destroyed. Their realness was seen as blasphemy: people didn't mind seeing painted images of Christ on a cross but they didn't want to see it in 3-D, sitting right next to them. They didn't want to feel it, to be comfronted with the 'hyper -reality' of Jesus's death. So, yes, sadly many got destroyed. I'm going this weekend and you should to as it finishes on the 24th of this month. You'll completley regret it if you don't (all the statues are on loan from very over-protective nuns and preists in Spain...).


The Sacred Made Real at the National Gallery. Ends 24th Jan, 2010.