A Real Brooklyn Ghost Story

           A Real Brooklyn Ghost Story

Back in the day, well, sometime in the 1980s, when Reagan was as far-out and far-right a reaction to the Jimmy Carter years that the human mind could contemplate, you could still afford to rent your own apartment in Park Slope even though you were neither the employee nor scion of a hedge fund. Anyway, I lived on 7th street between 5th and 6th avenues. It wasn't a fancy hipster neighborhood, and as hard as it is to believe, we were were young once too and were probably the hippest things happening, but there was El Faro and Polly-O and Save on Fifth, and I was just leaving a public affairs and marketing writing job at local hospital (then known as the Park Slope Body Shop), and taking up freelancing for a number of film, engineering and trade mags, so I guess essentially life was good. I was living in the first floor of a brownstone; the owners, an older Italian American couple and their grown sons, lived in the upper floors.

The husband of the couple grew his tomatoes and enjoyed his occasional chianti which reminded me alot of my maternal grandfather who had passed away shortly before I moved to this new place.

One day, after I was living in the building for a year or so, the elderly husband himself passed away rather suddenly. My girl friend at the time, the Art Director's Daughter, and I had spoken to the sons earlier in the day. It was the first night of the wake, the family left in the early afternoon and informed us that they would not be returning until much later in the evening. We were planning to pay our respects the following night. Anyway, at around 7:00 PM it started.

Footsteps. Nothing but footsteps, loud and clear, walking the length of the brownstone apartment above. A constant pacing that started near the front door, walked to the opposite end of

the house, turned and walked back to the door. Slowly, methodically, but unmistakably. At first, I believe the radio was on, I could hear this strange pacing (they had no dogs or pets of any kind) only intermittently, until it finally made its way into our consciousness as the Art Director's Daughter and I made dinner. I turned off the radio. Then, when it was very quiet, a chill went up and down my spine as I listened to the mysterious, relentless pacing.Finally, I went upstairs to knock on the door, but of course no one answered. I could not see or hear anyone (or anything) through the door. Since it was clear no one was ransacking their apartment, there was nothing much else to be done. But when I returned downstairs, there it was again. We turned on some music. The Art Director's Daughter (who was a Red Diaper Baby) was a big fan of the Weavers and Pete Seeger, so we cranked up some of that beneficent, positive vibe, good time hammer and sickle music, and had another glass of wine.

I guess between the clomping, and the wine, and the Weavers, we distracted ourselves until it either stopped or we took less and less notice of it. A few hours later, when the family returned from the first night of the wake, we decided to throw caution to the wind and mention the strange noises, just in case someone had in fact broken in through a window.

The older son looked at us quizzically but went upstairs first to look around before his mom got out of the car. Nope. Everything was as it should be. "Maybe it was a sound from next door through the walls" he offered good naturedly. We apologized for bothering him, but he said, no, don't worry about it, I am glad that you let me know.

But, just as brownstone walls are thick, and floors in old houses can creak when you walk on them, I was sure that the old man had returned for a final visit, and was looking to see where his wife had hidden the chianti.
--Anthony Napoli --- Deep in the Heart of Brooklyn

Germano Celant: Art Historian Who Defined “ Arte Povera” Contemporary Italian Art Movement Dead at 80

The widely influential Italian art historian, critic, and curator Germano Celant, who coined the term Arte Povera to describe the radically economical art of Jannis Kounellis, Mario and Marisa Merz, and Giuseppe Penone, among others, has died at age 80 in Milan due to complications from the coronavirus.

His death on April 29, 2020,which was reported by various Italian news outlets, followed his hospitalization at San Raffaele hospital several weeks ago.

Full ArtNet obituary here: https://news.artnet.com/art-world/germano-celant-death-1847856/amp-page

Magazzino Italian Art: Contemporary Italian Art in the Hudson Valley

Artnet.com interview with Magazzino Italiano Art Executive Director Vittorio Calabrese, the Hudson Valley’s newest, most vibrant, contemporary art space

https://news.artnet.com/partner-content/vittorio-calabrese-magazzino

The Marriage of Figaro: From Vienna with Love (By Way of the Borscht Belt)

There's the opera buffa-- as reflected in the comedy of life, say, in NYC during the dog days of summer-- and then there's the "Opera Serero" which is a grand entertainment, as the maestro presents his latest operatic adaptation:  Mozart's "The Marriage of Figaro  (Le Nozze di Figaro)" in a brief run at the American Sephardic Federation/Center for Jewish History in NYC.

Serero adapts the opera classic into a 90 minute pageant, retaining much of Mozart's brilliant score, performed by a wonderful company, but with a rewritten, contemporized pop libretto that honors Lorenzo Da Ponte's original, and breathes new comic life into the story and characterizations of Figaro and Susanna, the Count and Countess, and the lovestruck Cherubino, to the delight of new audiences. 

As a result, this traditional comic opera displays fresh charm in a low budget but wildly creative production, adding a layer of borscht belt Jewish humor,  (along with a dash of The Godfather, Star Wars and Looney Tunes), to the Mozart and Da Ponte original creation, which remains the cornerstone of opera companies worldwide.

Led by David Serero's Figaro, the cast, including Hannah Madeline Goodman (Susanna), Charles Gray (Count Almaviva), Jennifer Zamorano (Countess) and Allegra Durante (Cherubino), lend humor and warmth to some sublime performances. Accompanist Felix Jarrar drives a solo performance to orchestral heights.  (Serero's appearance as "The Don", and his unexpected detour into Figaro's Aria from Rossini's "Barber of Seville," were at once silly pleasures and demonstrations  of his vocal and comic skill.)  

Tempis fugit, as do the summer months. Catch this joyously funny adaptation while you can. July 11 through July 21. Tickets at ASFFigaro.bpt.me, or call 1-800-836-3006.

—Anthony Napoli

Bob Dylan: The Beaten Path

Bob Dylan has released another set of signed prints of his work based on his travels. Notable are several from Brooklyn Heights area. The Long Island Restaurant (located on Atlantic, not Myrtle Avenue as titled) should be a familiar point of reference to many Brooklynites.

For more info on this collection, visit http://BobDylanart.com

James Turrell At Mass MoCA

James Turrell’s “Hind Sight” (1984), at the Massachusetts Museum of Contemporary Art (MassMoCA), North Adams, MA:

“the viewer proceeds through a corridor into a dark chamber devoid of visual or aural stimuli (apart from the exhalations of an air duct). The experience is similar to falling asleep, as physical reality recedes from consciousness and the viewer enters a meditative state. After 10 to 15 minutes, the viewer’s pupils are fully dilated, at which point the viewer is called back to the material world by the presence of a dim light on the opposite side of the chamber, so faint that it can only be perceived in the viewer’s peripheral vision.”

Having previously experienced Turrell’s “Perfectly Clear” at the Museum, which projects a sense that one is floating in a boundless visual void, one recognizes Turrell’s proposal that he does not make art using light but rather by challenging the human eye and perception to recognize not what we see but how we see....
-Anthony Napoli

Romeo & Juliet (adapted in a Jewish-style) at the American Sephardi Federation/Center for Jewish History

Singer, composer, impresario David Serero's latest work, a Jewish adaptation of William Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet, is a clever, slightly contemporized performance of the theatrical classic. Seen through a Jewish lens of an  Ashkenazi Juliet and a Sephardi Romeo, the production combines English, Yiddish, Ladino and Russian song, with drama, humor and requisite sword play. Performed by an energetic cast, and highlighted by Serero's operatic performance, the show's all-to-brief run will be at the Center for Jewish History, in New York City, thru June 23.

American Journalism in the Era ofFacebook, President Trump and Red Ink

Reflections: 

Does Facebook and other social media corporations play a role in the proliferation of fake news ? And if so, do these mega-rich corporations have an obligation as some suggest Would a cash influx make a big difference in the future of American journalism, especially in the era of President Trump, fake news and alternative facts?

The chief question may be, what would represent a disruption in journalism, the same type of disruption that Donald Trump represented in American politics in 2016 that cleared a pathway to the presidency? Did that disruption already come and go with the rise and influence of Hunter S. Thompson's gonzo journalism in the 70s? Is journalism by its nature too conservative a profession to be able to forge a new path?  Is journalism in danger or and in need of disruptive change or is it the current political climate that suggests that it is disfubctional if not on its last legs?Can journalism, even if completely torn from any reliance on newsprint and TV adverts really survive if it became even more of a web-based entity? Does a new, til now unforeseen business model of journalism exist within the American business enterprise system? Could and should a BBC-style model of American journalism and media evolve in the US to compete with purely profit-driven models ?

Is quality American journalism fighting with one hand tied behind its back as it is wedded to the Superman virtues( of truth justice and The American Way) while its corporate overseers and need to meet payrolls demand profitability ?

It seems like there remain many more questions and no easy answers as journalism faces continuing challenges with the continuing disappearance of local media and the pressures of a new government Administration that paints much of MSM and actually any news outlet that strives for objective coverage  as the "enemy."  The future of journalism in an era of ascendant public ignorance and 1984-style rule-by-misinformation remains a big question mark, but journalists need to keep up the struggle, holding that lamp high, and the profession as a whole needs to consider all options, remaining open to risk and experiment. The survival of American journalism, and the American Democratic Experiment, depend on it.

Anthony Napoli

Deep in the Heart of Brooklyn

NYC:GroundhogDay

Missing from the action was Mayor Bill deBlasio, who, having failed in his commitments to Animal-loving Real Estate Moguls seeking to eliminate the Central Park horse drawn set, and whose Administration is currently under investigation for possible campaign finance violations, said investigation now possibly having expanded into the Mysterious Death of Staten Island Chuck in his previous incarnation, has apparently foresworn all involvement with animals through the conclusion of the election year. Having just settled a deal with the NYPD, he was seen happily making his way to the Park Slope Y where he could exercise undisturbed by protesting cops, and where the only wildlife are the hipsters and gentrifying stroller moms protesting outside “Brooklyn Chuck’s” condo on Prospect Park West, far from SI Chuck.  

 

Fortunately for the current transgender prognosticator, SI Chuck is safe to live another day.

 

-Brooklyn Beat

Deep in the Heart of Brooklyn

A Real Brooklyn Ghost Story

A Real Brooklyn Ghost Story

A true story first posted here in 2007.

Back in the day, well, sometime in the 1980s, when Reagan was as far-out and far-right a reaction to the Jimmy Carter years that the human mind could contemplate, you could still afford to rent your own apartment in Park Slope even though you were neither the employee nor scion of a hedge fund. Anyway, I lived on 7th street between 5th and 6th avenues. It wasn't a fancy hipster neighborhood, and as hard as it is to believe, we were were young once too and were probably the hippest things happening, but there was El Faro and Polly-O and Save on Fifth, and I was just leaving a public affairs and marketing writing job at local hospital (then known as the Park Slope Body Shop), and taking up freelancing for a number of film, engineering and trade mags, so I guess essentially life was good. I was living in the first floor of a brownstone; the owners, an older Italian American couple and their grown sons, lived in the upper floors. The husband of the couple grew his tomatoes and enjoyed his occasional chianti which reminded me alot of my maternal grandfather who had passed away shortly before I moved to this new place.

One day, after I was living in the building for a year or so, the elderly husband himself passed away rather suddenly. My girl friend at the time, the Art Director's Daughter, and I had spoken to the sons earlier in the day. It was the first night of the wake, the family left in the early afternoon and informed us that they would not be returning until much later in the evening. We were planning to pay our respects the following night. Anyway, at around 7:00 PM it started.

Footsteps. Nothing but footsteps, loud and clear, walking the length of the brownstone apartment above. A constant pacing that started near the front door, walked to the opposite end of the house, turned and walked back to the door. Slowly, methodically, but unmistakably. At first, I believe the radio was on, I could hear this strange pacing (they had no dogs or pets of any kind) only intermittently, until it finally made its way into our consciousness as the Art Director's Daughter and I made dinner. I turned off the radio. Then, when it was very quiet, a chill went up and down my spine as I listened to the mysterious, relentless pacing.Finally, I went upstairs to knock on the door, but of course no one answered. I could not see or hear anyone (or anything) through the door. Since it was clear no one was ransacking their apartment, there was nothing much else to be done. But when I returned downstairs, there it was again. We turned on some music. The Art Director's Daughter (who was a Red Diaper Baby) was a big fan of the Weavers and Pete Seeger, so we cranked up some of that beneficent, positive vibe, good time hammer and sickle music, and had another glass of wine.

I guess between the clomping, and the wine, and the Weavers, we distracted ourselves until it either stopped or we took less and less notice of it. A few hours later, when the family returned from the first night of the wake, we decided to throw caution to the wind and mention the strange noises, just in case someone had in fact broken in through a window.

The older son looked at us quizzically but went upstairs first to look around before his mom got out of the car. Nope. Everything was as it should be. "Maybe it was a sound from next door through the walls" he offered good naturedly. We apologized for bothering him, but he said, no, don't worry about it, I am glad that you let me know.

But, just as brownstone walls are thick, and floors in old houses can creak when you walk on them, I was sure that the old man had returned for a final visit, and was looking to see where his wife had hidden the chianti.

--Anthony Napoli --- Deep in the Heart of Brooklyn

West Hartford CT Halloween Display Makes Political Statement

https://www.google.com/amp/fox61.com/2016/10/03/west-hartford-halloween-display-makes-a-political-statement/amp/?client=safari

Emotional Resonances of 9/11, Before and Beyond

Spiritual, prophetic and emotional as ever.. Bob Dylan's "Cold Irons Bound" from Masked and Anonymous...

"Waist deep in the mist...like I don't even exist...20 miles out of town and cold irons bound..."

http://youtu.be/9hO-83CIVKM

Pollock and Krasner at The Springs

Jackson Pollock - Lee Krasner Home/Studio and Study Center Historic Site, Springs, NY

Many Rivers to Cross Before Healing Can Take Place

From The Dallas Morning News: Truths for any city:

"This city, our city, has been tested before. Now we face a new test.

More than 50 years ago, madness struck like a lightning bolt and cut down our nation's president, leaving shadows that lingered for generations. We rebounded, but slowly. We eventually remade our city into one all but unrecognizable to anyone alive in 1963.

Thursday night, another kind of lightning flashed across our horizon and plunged our city into a new kind of grief — and brought fear back to the place we call home.

The shocking slaying of five police officers, and the shooting of seven others, plus two civilians, has left this city stunned.

We've asked, all of us, why us? Why this city? Why these officers? Why now?

And we are surely not alone in asking, as our hearts break, what kind of country are we creating where such violence has become so frequent?

A country where thousands of North Texans are driven to our downtown streets to peacefully protest police violence. Where a man could grow so bitter with rage that he gunned down a dozen police officers he'd probably never seen before.

Here in Dallas, we have not found answers that satisfy. Perhaps there are none.

Dallas is a proud city. Although it is not a new city, it still feels unfinished, like a young adult still holding out for a late growth spurt.

That sense of continuous change makes sense to us because we live in a place of new beginnings, of immigrants, and of job seekers. A place of friendly greetings and big ambitions, where the next new opportunity seems just around the corner.

But there is another truth about Dallas. We live together, but we do not often understand one another. This is because of class, sometimes geography and often race.

We are not unique in this. Americans are living beside one another without understanding one another all over the country.

But in Dallas, rigid boundaries seem more pronounced. Few Dallasites in the north venture south across the river that divides our city nearly in half. This chasm has made it easier to avoid uncomfortable truths, to make nice, to paper over fundamental inequities.

Thursday night's events have summoned us, unbidden, to examine the consequences of knowing so little about life on the other side of these boundaries. Across America, our countrymen and women will be watching what we do in the weeks and months ahead.

Where to begin?

It's time to put aside, for now, pronouncements about what is right and who is wrong. To push past the politics of race and anger and to put the presidential election out of our hearing for a brief moment.

We must learn to listen and feel what it is like to live in Dallas, across divides. We need to understand that it's not the same for a black teenager in South Dallas to walk home late on a Friday and see a police cruiser roll by as it is for somebody else in another part of town.

We need to understand the challenges implicit in donning a police uniform in this vast and conflicted city. The bravery and sacrifice — and the fear.

There will be time later for anger and for justice — anger whose purpose is served in justice. But for now we need to learn to understand each other, to really hear one another, to learn from each other."

Full editorial here:

http://www.dallasnews.com/opinion/editorials/20160709-editorial-this-city-our-city.ece