It’s Easter this weekend, seemingly one of Greenpoint’s favorite holidays (if you gauge affection by the number of houses that are fully decked out with an explosion of Easter decor). So of course there’s an Easter Egg Hunt in McGolrick Park.
If you’re like me, your New Year’s resolution (if you made one at all) is already abandoned, and training for a half-marathon has been replaced with a snowy sprint to the bodega.
Never fear, my fellow hibernating, chubby, and cocooned Greenpointers! Below is a list of 5 fitness programs bizarre enough to get you out of the apartment and maybe even in shape before winter’s over, without even having to get on the subway: Continue reading →
Thank you Mayor DeBlasio for nixing the chance for developers to build residential apartments on our promised park land! It’s a step in the right direction but the fight continues – there can still be an office or retail space built until the city can actually buy the land.
If you hadn’t already heard, Cameo Gallery is going the way of Glasslands and 285 Kent this November, but that doesn’t mean it’s slowing its roll until then. With CMJ in town, and with its days significantly numbered, the venue packed itself to the gills with premium acts and throngs of followers willing to compete for oxygen near the stage.
Deradoorian and Porches carried the early night. Deradoorian, formerly of Dirty Projectors fame, sold the crowd on life beyond the death of Cameo.
As Deradoorian shot out regal, wild, and resilient shouts of joy into the room it reminded me, as I looked around, that I’d seen all these people before, and would see them again. Surely these bands can find a new home in Greenpoint, given their loyal audience. Continue reading →
The Giraffes know how to bring it. This North Brooklyn gang is a seamless mix of hard, fast, loud, and wild. Their new LP drops October 2nd and it’s exhilarating. Oh, and they practice in our neighborhood. Follow the jump for info on their latest release and a show this Saturday that you shouldn’t miss.
I am heading out to Reno tomorrow, where I promise not to shoot a man just to watch him die. But with travelling on my mind, this week I have you biking to Bushwick for a couple of shows, and on the G train Saturday heading to some modern stride jazz piano at an outdoor dance party in Prospect Park.
Thanks to Sonya P. who wrote up some of her own recommendations for part of this post.
One more side effect of North Brooklyn’s rapidly mutating scene is the ramping up of “I was here when…” memories, which are arriving in shorter and tighter cycles. This means that the new, old neighborhoods are now garnering nostalgia with stories from recent history. And, photographs are a trusted way to collect these stories—”Take a picture. It will last longer.”
Two photography exhibitions on view now, Mara Catalán’s “A Place I Once Called Home: Williamsburg” at Picture Farm Productions & Sara Maria Salamone’s “From Ash To Apollo” at GCA Salon, appropriately locate and illustrate newer recollections of these moments. Continue reading →
“Oooh, what’s 603?”, you ask. Well, it’s absolutely not The Silent Barn; let’s just get that straight right now. 603 Bushwick Avenue is the fun house that is the collective of apartments directly above The Silent Barn. And, from noon on May 2nd to noon the next day, 603 served as the venue for a 24-hour endurance live music/reading/fundraising/karaoke/yoga/baptism/food and book drive event. I’m sure I’m missing a few forward slashes, too. Funds were raised for The Justice Committee and the Maryland Food Bank.
Overall, it was one of the most friendly, creative, optimistic, life-embracing, and least pretentious events that I’ve attended in a city that far too often leans toward the cynical or jaded. No corner of the residence was left a blank canvas. To be honest, it was so warm and fuzzy that I didn’t quite know how to handle it. Anyway, I’ll let the pictures paint the rest of the picture. Continue reading →
With her hair pulled back, dressed in a spaghetti-strap deep plunge little black dress, a double strand of pearls, and a shimmering vintage ring-to-wrist bracelet, Sweet Megg looks like she is visiting us from the Prohibition era that shapes her music. Her voice envelops the room and invokes that same decadent, idealistic atmosphere as she and her Wayfarers perform (Up) a Lazy River to a buzzing audience at the Top of the Standard on a Saturday night.