From Oahu to Washington

Well, I got back from Hawaii on Wednesday and am still kinda struggling with jetlag (and the pile of emails that I've yet to address). A couple people have written me messages regarding this blog and if you are reading this, thank you! I will get back to you soon. I promise.

Areca palms (Dypsis lutescens) at a
plant nursery in Wahiawa.

Between site work and my free time in Oahu, I took about 1200 photos! I will do you, dear reader, the favor of not sharing them all. (And indeed, I can't post work photos, which is a shame since the work was quite fun.) I'll sort through some of the best pics and pepper in posts from Hawaii in the months to come.

View northeast from Diamond Head summit

It's also as good a time as any to announce that I'll soon be moving away from New York. This summer I will relocate to Washington DC. My 11 years in Manhattan have been wonderful, but it's time for a change. I hope to freelance and slowly build a practice of my own in the region where I was first introduced to the worlds of horticulture and landscape design. The fact that my parents, brother and sister live there certainly sweetens the deal.

Haleiwa Town on the North Shore

I've always struggled with classifying myself as a "New Yorker" -- but this trip to Hawaii brought some of my New York characteristics into comic relief. While hiking at Diamond Head, I could precisely time when to pass other hikers with the agility of one who regularly walks on crowded Soho sidewalks, darting tourists along the way. A couple from Vancouver actually started following me, impressed with my steady (but polite - really!) progress to the summit.

Can you spot the sea turtle?

I wore my Yankees ballcap everywhere, trying to avoid getting too tan. On the north shore, a couple heard me approach the hotel elevator and held the door for me. When I entered the car, sure enough, the woman was wearing a Red Sox hat. We mock-gruffly nodded to each other, amused to find rival fans so far from the east coast.

Mineral falls, Waimea Valley, North Shore

(yes, that's me in the ballcap).

As a New Yorker, I was startled to find such scant Hispanic influence in Hawaii. It's obvious enough that there wouldn't be a large Hispanic culture, but I still found myself surprised to find the second language in Honolulu is Japanese. Not that my Spanish is particularly great -- these days it mostly consists of sentences used in MTA ads ("si ve algo, di algo").

Mango farms, flanked by Norfolk Island Pine
(Araucaria heterophylla).

And bagels. God, let's talk about bagels. I may be a reluctant New Yorker, but my pride in our wonderful bagels is only equal to my dismay when I rediscover this truth, which happens to be every time I leave the five boroughs. I met a woman in Waikiki who asked (upon noting my hat) if I was a New Yorker. She was from Centereach, Long Island. The next thing she said (quite woefully, I might add): "I miss bagels."

Dole Pineapple Plantation (an aside: when in Hawaii,
it's always worth it to spring for the convertible)

I love New York, in the deep, complicated, and at times barbed, way one loves a former lover. I want what's best for New York. I'm a little bit afraid of what life will be like without New York. But I know that it's time to leave New York, before I become embittered by New York. I'll visit often (and will continue to teach plants at Columbia). But it's time to be on less intimate terms with New York.

Ironwoods (Casuarina equisitifolia),
Sunset Beach, North Shore

Now then, what to do with this blog? For the next month or two, I'll continue to blog at this site. Then I'll pick up right where I will leave off: DC, Plants & Other Stuff. It's a ridiculous title, but when I started this blog, I named it New York, Plants & Other Stuff because I really wasn't sure what the blog would be about. Over the years, it's crystallized into a site that celebrates the diminutive features of the plants all around us. I hope to continue a blog with the same tone in DC. I'll keep this site active and will most likely link to former posts regularly. I hope you join me as I move a few states south.

Okay, ONE pic of the site work. Shh, don't tell.

MTA: Fail

This was taken at the Broadway-Lafayette Station in Soho. New Yorkers who spend far too much time below-ground may be able to tell what's wrong with this picture:



If you can't figure out what's off, the Q line is yellow and never runs on the same platform as the B, D & F. Instead, that Q shoulda been a V for the V line.

Rose. Or, well the Rose Center, that is

Back in December, I posted this photo from the NYBG holiday train show - it's a model of the Rose Center and Hayden Planetarium made completely from plant material.


Last night, I passed the real thing, designed by James Polshek and built in 2000. Since my camera's been taking decent night photos - like the ones I took during the Wolf Moon - I thought I would post this.


Polshek says his intention was to build a 'cosmic cathedral.' I'd say he succeeded. Last night it was particularly beautiful, the orb glowing blue in the snowy park that surrounds it. What's more, the planetarium doesn't mar the integrity of the adjacent building, which houses the rest of the American Museum of Natural History. When you encounter the original structure on Central Park West, built by Jacob Wrey Mould and Central Park architect Calvert Vaux, you don't really notice Polshek's addition*, nor the marked contrast of the 133 years that separate the structures. It's not until you turn the corner on 81st Street that you are wowed by Polshek's design.


*Technically, the Polshek's design was not an addition but a renovation of a pre-existing planetarium.  Technically the building is in fact an addition not a renovation. The original planetarium was built in the 1930s and demolished. The design was created by Todd Schliemann and James Polshek of Polshek Partnership.

Zuccotti Park

Back when I used to work for the Department of City Planning, I'd spend a lot of time downtown in the financial district. On lunch breaks, I'd check out Century 21's newest inventory or browse the mall that once existed beneath the twin towers.

I had a friend who worked downtown, too and when the weather was nice we would sometimes eat al fresco at Zuccotti Park (also known as Liberty Plaza Park). That was back before 9/11 so I am not as familiar with the renovated design, designed by Cooper Robertson & Partners, and opened to the public in 2006.



Last Friday was certainly the first time I'd been near the park at night and I was struck by the lighting display. From a distance, I had to stop and wonder if it was some kind of art installation of fluorescent tubes, but then it became clear that they are flush with the paving.

I like it...but I can't help feel that inspires a touch of dread. I instantly associate that lighting with some kind of souless cubicle farm and I begin to worry about finishing my TPS reports.

Thom Mayne's Cooper Union Building

I have (very reasonably, I think) veered from too much architecture on this site. There's no dearth of architectural criticism (snarchitecture?) on the web and I don't feel like there's much I can add to those dialogues. Though really, check out From Our House to Bauhaus - it's a fun read.

All of that said, I cannot resist posting two photos of Thom Mayne's Cooper Union Building. If my many posts about Liz Christy Gardens haven't indicated it clearly enough, for the past few years I have been living in the East Village and the Lower East Side. Longtime readers will remember I had to leave my LES apartment in December '08 due to a fire. Since then I've been in the East Village, just a few blocks away from this building.



The fact that I walk by this building on a regular basis probably accounts for why I love it so much. Perhaps if I had only seen it once or twice, I'd feel differently. But the thing I have discovered about this building in the course of my quitodian walks by it, is how much the building responds to the light. On sunny days it sparkles, on cloudy days it almost blends into the atmosphere. It's remarkable, and if you live in the city I encourage you to walk by it in all kinds of weather -- it's like an architectural mood ring. (Yes, somewhere Herbert Muschamp is rolling over in his grave.)




Since I've already invoked tacky 70's fashion fads, I suppose I should just go all-out and say that I also like this building because I can practically see the hovercars whiz by it, fifty years from now. I'm not much for sci-fi movies, but I was arrested by the tableaus in Minority Report, since the mix of old and new architecture seemed to realistically capture what may lie ahead. Seeing this building, just across the street from its 1858 predecessor, gives one a great view of our possible future as well as our past.

Straddling Seasons

Yes, I know it's barely one month into winter, but it's time to start thinking about spring, no?

I mentioned once before how, in New York, when all else fails, we can gauge the change in seasons by what's on display at the bodegas. Well, this picture seems to perfectly illustrate where we are in the year.

We still have the leftover mini Christmas trees and the Amaryllis bulbs (typical for holiday flora), but they are slowly being edged out by jonquils and Iris reticulata. Soon we'll see forced hyacinths in the delis and after that, cut daffodils and finally lilacs!

Though it's hardly a natural setting, this little arrangement in the East Village is a nice indication that warmer weather is ahead.

The Coney Island Polar Bear Plunge

First off, apologies for taking some time off from this blog. Second, a warning that my camera lens is jammed and is under repair. So the next few posts will be anachronistic photos from the archives.

And now for a "New York" and "Other Stuff" item, the Coney Island Polar Bear Club.

Ever since I moved to New York in 1999, I have idly threatened to participate in the New Year's Day Polar Bear Plunge. The irrational exuberance of jumping into the ocean on January 1st appeals to me on a, well, primitive level. I had never done it before but, buoyed my friend Dave, who responded to my pleas for conspirators via facebook status updates, I did it this year.

It was definitely a great New York activity. Dave and I, and his friend Brian, met on the Q train platform on Friday morning. We allowed ourselves every opportunity to chicken out at the last instant. But when we got to Coney Island and saw the crowds of people, our doubts began to ease.

I mean, if these perfectly sane people can do it, why can't we?


That's Brian and me, below. We're heading up to the boardwalk, where you can see there are throngs of people. A PA system blasted songs intended to pump up our resolve.



Some needed that musical inspiration more than others. Veterans to the plunge were all around, quickly sizing up us newbies, telling us that we're lucky this year, after all it's around 40°, and there's no wind. This plunge, they said, will be easy.


The Polar Bear Club estimates that 800-1000 people participate each year.

The funny thing about an event like this, is that I was running into people left and right. In a crowd that big, I saw a former colleague from the zoo and another colleague with whom I worked at City Planning.


Dave himself was a friend from the zoo and he connected with the aquarium folks who co-sponsor the event. We ran into them moments before the plunge began. We were ushered past the VIP ropes you see below and invited to join them in leading the charge. As soon as we passed those ropes, getting wet was a fait accompli.



At 1pm, we made our way down the aisle, passing dozens of photographers from local new joints. Personally, being photographed running in a bathing suit, after a month of holiday parties, may have been worse than getting in 40° water! ...But that kind of vanity is inconsequential when one has a chance to do something as irrational and exhilarating as the polar bear plunge. It felt amazing. We were in the water for about a minute (ask me five years from now and I'll tell you five minutes). It was bracingly cold, but the icy water seemed to release all kinds of endorphins - a natural high, no doubt. After we got out of the water, the air temp seemed downright balmy. I anticipated that getting dressed would be a painful and rushed activity, but we practically ambled back to the changing rooms on the boardwalk. I've had site visits in snowy weather that were far more unpleasant than this quick dip.


Of course, best of all, there were tee shirts. 'Cause if you don't have a tee shirt documenting it, it practically didn't happen! ;)

MoMA

I was at MoMA last weekend and decided to take a few pics of the Abby Aldrich Rockefeller Sculpture Garden. Yes, the image above says the Lillie P. Bliss Garden Plaza, but presumably the Abby Aldrich Rockefeller Sculpture Garden commences when one descends the steps on the right.


By the way, doesn't Lillie P. Bliss sounds almost like a pseudonym someone would daftly invent, were one in a screwball comedy? The real Miss Bliss was a key figure to MoMA due to the terms in her will. She left a large art collection to MoMA but also allowed MoMA to sell art from that collection in order to acquire better pieces. For example, Les Demoiselles d'Avignon was partially bought with funds raised by selling a Degas in Bliss's collection.

Back to the garden:

When MoMA was redesigned by architect Yoshio Taniguchi, Taniguchi preserved Philip Johnson's original design (1953) for the garden. Some expansions were made, but for the most part the garden was untouched.


Note that the bridge is comprised of only three slabs of marble. In the background, there are the Bertoia chairs we last saw in Paley Park.

The weeping European beech trees, or Fagus sylvatica, (so sensitive to compaction due to their shallow roots) were preserved, though I'm skeptical as to whether I could say the same of the birches (Betula populifolia); they look a bit small for the originals.


Birch trees seem to be a touch ubiquitous outside museums. The Tate Modern in London opened 53 years after MoMA, and birch trees were used once again. Of course, birches have an austere quality that mirrors the sense of peace and order you achieve in a museum, and they're vertical, compact plants which work in the urban environments of most museums.

Finally, the High Line

I visited the High Line shortly after it opened in June. I went once again towards the end of summer, but both trips were spontaneous and I was camara-less. Yesterday I was determined to get some pictures of this new park, designed by a team led by landscape architects Field Operations, collaborating with Diller Scofidio (architecture), L'Observatoire International (lighting) and a slew of other consultants. For the purposes of this blog, of course, I was mostly interested in seeing Piet Oudolf's work -- he did the planting design.

And when I arrived at the park yesterday, I realized that it made perfect sense for me to delay so long in taking some photos. This is the time of year where Oudolf's work starts to galvanize into the painterly winter landscapes for which he's best known. Oudolf's work has always celebrated how plants look in the winter, rather than ignore this season altogether. He focuses on grasses and plants with distinctive, persistent seed heads.

Tomorrow or Wednesday I will show some more general shots of the park, then after Thanksgiving, we'll look at some of the plant species on display.

290 Mulberry

290 Mulberry is a condo that's been under construction for some time in Nolita. It looks like construction is pretty close to being wrapped up.

In the meantime, someone's having some fun with the building by staging a light show with the empty rooms.

Apologies in advance for the fact that the whole video ought to be rotated 90°!

Veteran's Day, New York

As I mentioned last week, I've been under some deadline pressure, but today, finally, I could sleep in and get to work a bit late.

When I was leaving my building - later than usual - I heard a policeman on a motorcycle zip up First Avenue, siren blaring. A man on the sidewalk, indignant, shouted to no one in particular, "Why can't he turn that motherfudging thing off?" (Only, he didn't say fudge.)

I'm sure he felt chagrined when it became evident that the policeman was leading a motorcade of vets, in honor of Veteran's Day.

Snow Leopards, Central Park

Last spring a new Snow Leopard exhibit opened in the Central Park Zoo. Despite the fact that I worked on the concept design when I was working at the Wildlife Conservation Society in 2006, I had yet to check out the exhibit until this fall.



It's been a busy week with deadlines so I haven't had much time to post to this site.

What better moment to post photos of incredibly beautiful felines??


The above is only posted so you can see the massive tails that snow leopards have -- they help keep the cats warm and I believe have something to do with their ability to leap great heights.


Definitely check out the exhibit if you're near the Central Park Zoo!

Paley Park

Certainly there has been plenty written about Paley Park, on 53rd Street between 5th and Madison Avenues. I'm not going to add to that material, but did want to post a photo in case readers are unfamiliar with it.


The park is beautifully simple; essentially a cube facing 53rd street, with ivy, rotational herbaceous plants and honey locusts. The wall of water at the back of the park - as every landscape architecture student quickly learns - was a brilliant gesture. The white noise it provides drowns out the sounds of city and profoundly adds to the sense of peace on has when sitting on the Bertoia chairs.


Right next door, you can also get a glimpse of NYC's own piece of the Berlin Wall and maybe snap a photo.


Paley Park occupies the former site of the Stork Club, a famous club in operation from before prohibition until the mid-60s. Honestly, I wouldn't have even noted this, had it not been for the fact that I'm catching up on Mad Men. The episode I watched last night included a party scene there.

Baseball

Last night I caught the third game in the Mets-Braves series at Citi Field. Though my heart belongs to the Yankees, I'll happily root against the Braves. Sadly, the Braves won.

On the bright side, I got to see a baseball game in August in the lovely new Citi Field. Now I don't know much about baseball, but aesthetically I'd say the stadium was a big improvement on Shea. Or, for that matter, the former Yankees Stadium (I know. It's the house that Babe built. But really, it's not a great stadium.). Anyway, I was surprised at how much I noticed the smaller size and what a difference it made to me as a spectator. The amp system wasn't too annoying, the seats were comfortable and, wow: cup holders.

The landscape around the stadium wasn't too bad either. You could see from the photo below that they were going for a more natural, informal look. I'm not sure they quite achieved it.


The photo above shows purpletop (Tridens flavus) and Rudbeckia, which are both great plants for a native palette. But in the foreground, Nepeta and a species of Cotoneaster are lurking, neither of which scream to me Piet Ouldolf. Damn if I don't have a picture of them (then again, come on: my mind was on the game.). The trees are Ginkgo biloba - a great tree, but again, a pin oak would match a native palette better and probably fare well in this spot. (I'd love to say a sugar maple would be a good candidate but no doubt these are discouraged due to the Asian Longhorned Beetle.)



The above, overexposed, photo is of the Jackie Robinson Rotunda. It's a nice moment where you're not quite indoors or outdoors. The cutouts almost remind me of a James Turrell piece.

Finally, I can't write about a baseball game without a shot of the field. I wish I knew more about baseball - baseball fans, to me, seem to be the most starry-eyed. But for the time being, I can at least appreciate a place where I can enjoy a refreshing breeze, a cold beer and a hot dog. Oh, and of course, where I can root for the home team.

Becoming a Mural

It's been a while since I've posted any murals lately and it's rare that I get to see one being made, so here are a few posts of the new addition to Houston Street, near the Bowery.



There's a great site documenting previous murals on this wall at 12oz Prophet.com.


The Brazilian group painting is called Os Gemeos - which means 'the twins' in Portuguese. More of their work here.


Before the Keith Haring mural was on this wall, I remember the old one that said Soho Kitchen in cursive font. I can't find a pic of it online, but am pretty sure I have a copy of it printed somewhere. I'll scan it and post, as an addendum to this site.


Have a good weekend!

Linden Flowers

Most of us New Yorkers are beginning to lose our senses of humor about the weather we've been having. Today's June 19 and I'm pretty sure it's rained 16 days this month. Or at least, it feels like we've had rain 16 days this month. I am not at all a fan of cool weather, nor rain. I prefer my Junes warm and sunny, even a bit hot. But yesterday, in my own way, I succumbed to the climate -- I gave up my own personal stance of not acknowledging the rain -- and took some photos of Tilia tomentosa in the deluge.



Naturally very few of these turned out, and while I intensely snapped photos of the blossoms, ignoring the rain, I got a few askance looks from passersby, briefly noting and cataloguing me as another Eccentric New Yorker.


No matter. They're pretty flowers aren't they? The flower structure you're looking at is called a cyme. Cymes are stems from which several small flowers branch. You can also see that the stamens are the showiest part of the flower. The large green tongue above the cymes is a bract.

This is my third post on Tilia and I've yet to really get into the etymology of the name. But, I will save that for a rainy day (as, um, it's not raining right now, right at this second).

Signs of Spring, Part 2: Witch Hazel

This is the time of year that I can't help but inspect planters in front of buildings and the mulched beds in parks. I'm eager to see further evidence that yes, winter is drawing to a close. (Honestly, I don't know how people can live in a climate any colder than NYC.)

At Jefferson Market Garden, I spied my first witch hazel of 2009, as well as a daffodil emerging from the ground.



I have posted a photo of the witch hazel (Hamamelis vernalis) blossom before, but had not spent much time discussing it. Hamamelis literally means "together with fruit" because this plant has its flower, fruit and next year's bud displayed on the stem all at the same time.


The specmens at the Jefferson Market garden are two popular cultivars of Hamamelis x. intermedia, though native species include vernalis and virginiana. The yellow-flowering shrub is called 'Arnold's Promise' and the red plant behind it is most likely 'Ruby Glow'.


The leaves and bark of witch hazel has long been used as an astringent, and still can be purchased at drug stores as a salve.

PS: The building in the background is the Jefferson Market branch of the New York Public Library. In the 19th century, the building was a courthouse and the garden now exists where a jail once was. In the 1930's the jail was demolished and a women's house of detention was built in its place. Apparently a favorite pastime of the women jailed there included hurling curses and obscenities at passersby on 6th Avenue. In 1974, the structure was demolished and the garden was built in its place.