127 Winters Ago in Brooklyn

HAPPY NEW YEAR, devoted readers and anyone who may have landed accidentally on my humble six-year-old blog.

For my first post of 2015, here’s a small sampling of seasonally appropriate photos from the Brooklyn Historical Society’s online photo database. It’s a tremendous resource, and great fun to search when you’ve got a free evening or it’s too damn cold to go outside.

The images in this post are lantern slides, glass transparencies to be viewed through a projector (called a ‘magic lantern’) that casts the image on a wall. They were all taken by Adrian Vanderveer Martense (1852-1898), a lawyer by profession and an amateur photographer. Martense documented houses, streets, and his friends and neighbors in Flatbush, as well as momentous events like the legendary blizzard of March 1888 and the moving of the Hotel Brighton in Coney Island in April 1888. He was a member of the Brooklyn Academy of Photography and served as its first recording secretary when it was established in 1887 (it later became the Brooklyn Camera Club).

Top: Adrian Martense, center, with pinhole camera, along with two other men and a boy on a tricycle, c.1880

Martense was descended from Dutch settlers who came to Brooklyn in the 17th century. His family’s land is now part of Greenwood Cemetery. Some of the photos in this post show a rural side of 19th century Brooklyn; others were taken downtown and show buildings that still exist. Most of these were taken on March 15, 1888, when Martense evidently set out to record the aftermath of the great blizzard in several different neighborhoods. And aren’t we glad he did?

Men standing at side of stage sleigh after blizzard

Men clearing snow from Flatbush Avenue train tracks after the blizzard

Children climbing into the back of a horse-drawn sleigh at Flatbush Avenue and Clarkson Avenue following the 1888 blizzard

Man standing in front of City Hall (now Borough Hall) and elevated train tracks after the blizzard

Man in front of coal and wood shop, as other men work to clear snow from the streets at Flatbush Avenue and Bergen Street

Horse-drawn carriage stopped in front of 7 Sutherland Sisters, on Clinton Avenue near the corner of Fulton Street, after the blizzard

People walking between piles of cleared snow at Atlantic Avenue and Flatbush Avenue, following the blizzard

Horse-drawn carriage in snow-covered street, c.1890

Street car and horse-drawn carriage at Adams Street and Willoughby Street under the elevated train, with men standing on the sidewalk

This is just a tiny sample of the Brooklyn Historical Society’s Martense collection; you can see them all right here.

Bohemian Splendor in Cobble Hill

ONE OF THE GREAT THINGS ABOUT BLOGGING is making new friends. Lula and I met only a few months ago, when she stumbled upon my blog and contacted me. We soon discovered we are neighbors in two places. She has an adorable cottage a few blocks from mine in Springs (East Hampton), N.Y., as well as a parlor floor she’s owned for 16 years in a classic 1850s Italianate brownstone in Brooklyn, top and below, virtually around the corner from where I lived for two decades (though we had never run into each other).

She lives in a state of Bohemian splendor, presently suspended in mid-renovation. Having peeled off old wallpaper, the walls have a Venetian plaster look but await further plaster and paint. The ceiling has been stabilized in parts where it was falling down. There are nearly intact plaster cornice moldings all the way around, with what Lula calls her ‘Shakespearen troupe’ of faces. A new kitchen is in the cards, and there’s a potential terrace at the back which is just tar paper, no railings, at the moment.

Most of the elaborate plaster cornice is in great shape, above. Other parts, below, not so much.

Lula is grappling with the questions endemic to living on the parlor floor of a brownstone.

• Where to put the kitchen so it’s functional but unobtrusive? Right now it’s in the middle and will probably remain there for plumbing reasons, but in what configuration?
• How to create a bedroom with privacy? She’s got a small one in the former hall space at the back, and uses the back parlor as a sort of den/guest room, above — but could it be better used as a master bedroom or dining room (currently in the kitchen area)?
• And what about those magnificent original wood doors and moldings? Were they painted back in the day (she thinks so) and should they be painted again, or refinished and stained? Should perhaps the doors be left wood and just the moldings painted?

All that remains to be seen. Meanwhile, the place has great cozy charm. With all that original detail, antiques acquired piecemeal over the years, an overstuffed sofa, plants on the window sills, and faded Oriental rugs, it feels much like being back in the Victorian era, for real.

After my first-ever visit to Lula’s apartment, we went and checked out the new Fork & Pencil warehouse on Bergen Street, above, a few-months-old, crammed-full, well-vetted consignment store — a spin-off of the smaller storefront on Court Street — whose proceeds go to non-profit conservation, arts, and other organizations. It’s more Lula’s kind of place than mine, filled with traditional antiques, but more to the point, I don’t need anything at the moment. Browsing there is purely a theoretical exercise for me. I admire, appreciate, and move on. Don’t need anything, thanks!

We had a civilized late lunch nearby at Broken English, the sort of self-conscious industrial chic space one used to expect only in Manhattan. I’m glad it’s come to Brooklyn, because my rigatoni with marinara and basil was scrumptious, and the salad, bread, and olive oil were tops. You can tell the quality of a restaurant by its bread and salad, I once read, and I think that’s on the mark. Broken English is open for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Ignore the snarky online reviews from amateur critics and give it a try. It’s a welcome addition to the nabe, in my book.

The Unprotected

BROOKLYN HAS ITS SHARE of silly neighborhood acronyms. The best is DUMBO for “Down under the Manhattan Bridge Overpass;” the worst is BOCOCA for Boerum Hill/Cobble Hill/Carroll Gardens, which I’ve never heard anyone say out loud.

Now there’s a new one, and you heard it here first: BECOSMI, “Between Court and Smith.”

What’s not so amusing is the fact that a dozen or so BECOSMI blocks south of State Street — encompassing parts of Boerum Hill and Carroll Gardens but not included in the official Historic Districts of either neighborhood — are vulnerable to demolition, development, or inappropriate renovation.

From Bergen down to Butler, “it’s wall-to-wall historic,” says Sophia Truslow, a real estate attorney involved in trying to gain some form of landmark protection for these orphaned blocks.

The blocks between State and Bergen are a “gerrymandered creature,” Truslow says, meaning that buildings of historic importance there are scattered.  Still, she says, there are a fair number of “sweet buildings that deserve protection.”

Truslow and other local activists are working simultaneously on several fronts, including the New York State Office of Historic Preservation, the non-profit Historic Districts Council, and the city’s overworked Landmarks Preservation Commission.

It’s an arduous process, sure to drag on for years.

The photos in this post give the merest glimpse of what they’re trying to protect. Worth the trouble, wouldn’t you say?

The Unprotected

Brooklyn, land of funny neighborhood acronyms — the best is DUMBO (“Down Under the Manhattan Bridge Overpass”) — has yet another one.

You heard it here first: it’s BECOSMI, and it stands for “Between Court and Smith.”

What’s not so amusing is the fact that a dozen or more blocks between Court Street and Smith Street, south of State — encompassing parts of Boerum Hill and Carroll Gardens, but not included in the official Historic District designation of either neighborhood — are vulnerable to demolition, development, or historically inappropriate renovation.

Between State and Bergen, there are scattered buildings of historic value. Those blocks are a “gerrymandered creature,” says Sophia Truslow, a real estate attorney who is active in efforts to gain some form of landmark status for these areas, but with a fair number of “sweet buildings that deserve protection.” Between Bergen and Butler, however, it’s “wall to wall historic,” Truslow says.

She and other local activists are working on several fronts to get Federal designation for these and other unprotected areas in Brownstone Brooklyn: through the non-profit Historic Districts Council, the New York State Office of Historic Preservation, and the city’s over-worked Landmarks Preservation Commission.

The pictures in this post represent the merest glimpse of what they’re trying to save.  Worth the trouble, don’t you think?