• Category Archives Music and Concerts
  • Movie Star

    So many films and TV shows have portrayed New York City as the place where an individual can be discovered, get a big break into showbiz, and make it big, maybe even become a movie star. Of course it happens, but, like depictions of the wild West, the reality is far less glamorous, and shootouts on the streets of Laredo are rare. Making it in the performing arts is mostly a process of auditioning, waiting, and rejection. Who has the staying power for this lifestyle?

    Many months ago, I was chatting with Joe Rios, an acquaintance from Washington Square Park. At one juncture, I spoke of my experience with Ferris Butler and MNN Cable Access TV. I was surprised to learn that Joe was very involved with the network and was going through training at their facilities. As part of his advancement with the network, there are requirements, including production of a program.

    Talk turned to his personal project, a TV show on the musicians of Washington Square Park. He was looking for a moderator/host, someone who would conduct interviews with the musicians. He offered me the job – he said he had an instinct and implicit faith in me. I was flattered but was not nearly as confident as he was as to my ability to perform well. Nonetheless, I could not turn down the offer – it was just too exciting. I told him I had zero experience with this type of thing, but Joe was undaunted. I said I would give him 130%.

    There would be filming of musicians in the park playing, and I would conduct spot interviews. In October, there will be a panel discussion and music performances in a studio with a live audience, to be broadcast on public access cable and streamed on the Internet. The park footage will be used as field footage and will be shown during the studio airing.

    I had no idea if this project would really happen. There was talk from time to time, but talk is cheap and many talk of lifelong dreams with nary a step in that direction. One day, Joe showed me the paperwork: a formal project description, call sheets, names of the members of a professional and production camera crew, and a schedule with dates and times. Permits had been acquired. This was really going to happen.

    On Thursday, September 1st, the shooting began. This week, there will be more filming.
    Part of the decision to use me was based on the executive producer’s reading of this blog. I was not aware while talking to Joey that this was not just going to be aired on local access cable. It is also being shot as a film documentary and will be presented at film festivals and marketed. I was also told that the project had changed. It was now being filmed as seen through my eyes. There will be some filming done from my apartment which overlooks Washington Square Park.* This is an honor and opportunity beyond my wildest dreams. Time will tell if my work will be well received at all.

    It is the classic New York story. Pay your dues and work your craft with unflagging dedication. Be tenacious as hell. Then one day, with some luck, you will be at the right place at the right time, and next thing you know, you’re a Movie Star 🙂

    Photos courtesy of Sandy Hechtman.

    *Seasonal views from my window: Signs of Summer, Enchanted April, White By Design 2, Wood, Glass, Brass and Trees

    Posts overlooking Washington Square Park: Boxing Al Fresco, Urban Elephants and Hydraulic Tusks, We’ve Got Skiing Too, Meetings With Remarkable Men Part 1, Shifting Gears

    Related Posts: Do It in the Road, Sisterhood, I Am Legend, I Love New York


  • Mzuri Sings

    Have you ever been assaulted by greatness or arrested by talent? In a city where greatness is everywhere you look, one must use superlatives sparingly, lest one robs them completely of any meaning. But everywhere you look, excellence abounds, often hidden behind unassuming exteriors. It may be a homeless person versed on every subject imaginable, or a man so eccentric-looking he literally stops traffic but has a Ph.D in music composition from Columbia University (see Part 1 here).

    Perhaps you have spent summers on park benches with Dave, a gentle, kind and humble man who, you learn only on his deathbed, has two doctorates in pharmacology. We chat often with a physicist who regularly spends evenings on a park bench, as does park architect George Vellonakis.  I once found myself staring in awe at a man who not only played guitar well but learned to play a lap steel on his first encounter, only to learn that the man was Will Galison – a well-known musician who has a Wikipedia entry and has played with greats such as Barbra Streisand.

    These encounters have inspired me to write series of stories with themes such as Abandon All Preconceived Notions Ye Who Enter Here, Only in New York, and Meetings With Remarkable Men.

    Last weekend, an unknown woman dropped by Washington Square Park very late on a quiet Sunday night. I met her eating a salad, sitting elegantly on the granite benches with her agent, Lisa Williams. I had seen her sing the previous Friday and was enthusiastic about speaking to her personally.
    I introduced her to Scott Samuels, the reigning guitar wizard of Washington Square. There was a feeding frenzy within moments as virtually everyone in hearing radius scurried to see what the winds of good fortune had blown in. In an extraordinary coup d’etat, park regulars were treated to a number of classics, sung by Mzuri Moyo and accompanied by Scotty:

    We love beatitudes and platitudes, simplifying life’s complexity – sayings such as you can’t have it all. For those who believe such a myth, meet Mzuri Moyo, a woman who has talent, charm and great looks. Her sincere delivery was transparent to all, and every song was met with cheers and whistling.

    Lorraine Theresa Pope was born in Passaic, New Jersey, and was a graduate of Eastside High School, known for its transformation in the mid-1980s under the leadership of principal Joe Clark (the school and Clark were the subject of the 1989 film Lean on Me, starring Morgan Freeman). Mzuri is a Registered Nurse, a field she worked in for 6 years.

    Mzuri speaks of her family:
    I have 2 brothers. I am the oldest. My oldest brother is very musical he writes and sings. He wrote one of the songs on my Christmas CD, I’ll Be Home For Christmas. The title of the song is Maybe We’ll Find Christmas Love. My father was a painter and he loved music. He was  a distant cousin to James Brown. My mother had a beautiful voice – she sang in the church choir.

    Her influences:
    The greatest influence on my life is having lived in Europe, traveling to Africa and Asia, and meeting all kinds of people. That is why I relate to everyone when I’m singing I feel them and I feel as though they are a part of me.

    Her goals and aspirations:
    My goal is to keep music and my artistic ability honest and to make a great living at it. I also would like to bring peace and love into the world with the music I sing. I love yoga. I am a vegetarian. I love languages – I speak a little French and Spanish.

    From her website:
    A writer since childhood, Mzuri has performed in a variety of venues including colleges and universities. Her recent concert debut at Lincoln Center was widely acclaimed. In 2002, Mzuri won the Audelco Award for Best solo performance. A star of both stage and film, a critic once wrote of her, “when Ms. Mzuri sings, God smiles, and angels flap their wings.”

    In this one-woman show, Mzuri presents… Ms. Fannie Lou Hamer, up close and personal. This presentation in word and song, captures a little known but very important moment in history and lays it at your feet.

    Make no assumptions. Investigate closely. Don’t move through the New York City streets so quickly that you miss an opportunity to be arrested by talent when someone like Mzuri sings 🙂

    See Mzuri’s website and additional performances here and here.


  • Mike Fontana

    Posted on by Brian Dubé

    Part 2 – Surrender to the Music (see Part 1 here)


    Immersion took on a new meaning for me when virtual reality technologies were developed and became surrounded by media buzz. The operative phrase became total immersion experience. For something to truly feel real, input to all five senses must reach a level where the user perceives them to be real.

    In on our non-virtual world, I believe we have an analogous situation. When we reach sensory overload and the stimuli are positive, we feel euphoria, exhilaration, or pure joy. We lose the ability to intellectualize, analyze and stand outside the experience as observer. You are fully IN the experience.

    My first meeting with Mike Fontana was short but exciting. Here was a working artist on St. Marks Place between 2nd and 3rd Avenue, the historical nexus of the East Village. A brief moment standing on his 2nd floor balcony connected me with that past. While there, friends dropped in, seemingly unannounced, reminiscent of my childhood, where making rounds visiting relatives (often unannounced) was de rigueur. I was informed by the friend who made the introduction that Mike hosted regular music jams and every first Wednesday of the month, there was a open megajam.

    On Wednesday May 4, 2011, I went to Mike Fontana’s, armed with cameras and camcorder. Mike is disarmingly cordial, convivial and generous. His home is your home. There is an openness rarely found in New York City. He welcomed me to make use of his loft bed which had a windowed opening through a wall, permitting a treehouse view of the living room which was filled with musicians. Many of the photos for part 1 of this story were taken from this aerie.

    In short order, the entire apartment was teaming with musicians. This was a full-fledged rock and roll extravaganza, the likes of which I have never seen in a private home:

    Mike assured me that the neighbors were not always as pleased as the jam participants. The living room is well outfitted with amplifiers – guitarists only need to bring their axes and plug in. Mike was busy on his drum pads with all the enthusiasm of a boy who just unwrapped his first set at Christmas.

    It is easy to get caught up in an urban life filled with agendas and completely lose touch with your own humanity. As I wrote in Duffy , when life’s routines begin to take over, it’s time to recharge your batteries. Grab a surfboard and jump in. Immerse and lose yourself. Take off your armor. Fall in love, head over heels. Find a music jam, sing out and surrender to the music

    Note: You can find Mike Fontana’s website here.

    Related Posts: I Got Caught, New York Is Bluegrass Country, Pockets of Joy, The Conductor Paddy Reilly’s, Park Night

    Posted on by Brian Dubé

  • Mike Fontana

    Posted on by Brian Dubé

    Part 1




    In May, I was asked by a friend if I would be willing to guest host a local access TV program which he will be producing using the facilities at MNN, a local access cable television network based in New York City. This is an exciting opportunity and I readily agreed.

    The show is being put together as a final project for my friend’s training at the network. His plan is a 28 minute program consisting of 2 interviews with two artists. One of those men is Mike Fontana. We agreed to visit Mike together for a preliminary meeting. Mike lives in one those unlikely locations – a street so well known for its shops that the prospect of an artist living on St. Marks Place between 2nd and 3rd Avenue is hard to imagine.

    Mike’s home is a shrine to his sculptural work – every wall, corner, shelf, room, piece of furniture. A small balcony a the front of the building overlooks St. Marks from the second floor.
    Mike is a native New Yorker, born here in 1961. As I typically do with my profiles, I corresponded with Mike by email to learn more about him and his background. Mike spent a semester at SVA and a year and a half at Art Student’s league. There, he was a drawing and anatomy major. Mike says:

    I dropped out of high school to work with my families photographic retouching studio. I’d spent some years in construction, mostly as a carpenter, building houses, apartments, renovation etc… All the while making paintings. Found work with Macy’s Thanksgiving Parade Studio where I ended up becoming Chief Sculptor and Associate designer. Many long stories there. I stayed 12 years. Since then I’ve pursued all kinds of sculpting and design endeavors from props and display to major historical monuments, museum figures, fabrication for major artists ( “I don’t have to finger paint any more.”) and, my own stuff.

    I was amazed to learn about Mike’s family background:

    Father: Illustrious family origin, aristocracy, 700 year old name. Grand father: famous opera star early 20th century. Caruso was my dad’s step father. Dad’s mom: Spanish Countess. Title originally conferred on family by King Ferdinand. That and half a sawbuck gets me on the subway.
    Mother: East European peasant stock but, her mom’s rise to the American dream is quite extraordinary.

    Mike speaks of his interests and the importance of his daughter in his life:

    Interests: Painting, Sculpture, Design, Illustration, Photography, Industrial design and architecture, Music, Film, Animation, Rapid prototyping. It goes on and on. I think that my biggest achievement is the relationship that I have with my daughter. Strip away everything else and she is the center of my everything. I’ve never known a comparable love. Of all of the interesting and or beautiful things that I’ve had my hand in creating, all pales before her. She is my angel.

    But there is another fascinating side to Mike’s life that I had the opportunity to participate in. We will see that in part 2…

    Related Posts: Penny’s From Heaven, I’m Really Good at Paper Mache, Horticulture, traPt, Bovine Love, Koons Balloons, Tower of Toys, Yaffa Cafe, Astor Place Cube, Gem Spa

    Other Interesting Individuals: Mark Birnbaum (see here and here), Ferris Butler (see here and here), Nicole Dubuc (see here and here), Professor Robert Gurland (see here and here), Bex Burton, Gaby Lampkey (see here and here), Jenn Kabacinski (see here and here), Driss Aqil, Walid Soroor

    Posted on by Brian Dubé

  • It’s a Package Deal

    Posted on by Brian Dubé


    “France would be great without the French.” To which I replied, “France would not be France without the French.” The man that said this to me was a performer who had traveled extensively worldwide and was familiar with most major countries. I decided not to get into a debate when he contrasted France to Italy and remarked how Italy was “the best.” When I asked why, he said because they have the best food and best people.

    You cannot extract essential elements that you don’t like from a package that you do like and expect to be left with the same package. The French are proud, with good reason. And they can be quite particular. This is why they have excelled in so many areas – food, wine, film, architecture, art, music, philosophy, science, culture – and why France still tops the list of tourist destinations.

    These things do not come by accident or from a laissez-faire attitude. High quality products require exacting standards. The French are often much less willing than others to compromise quality. There are many other cultures and people who share the same drive for quality, and the world of music is one place to look. When I learned that a friend was having her piano tuned, I asked if I could drop in to observe.

    When I met Arpad Maklary, I was reminded of a woman who was once asked why she would eat at Le Cirque (a very expensive restaurant) every night and spend so much money. I heard that she had responded,”It’s the only place in town where you can get a decent meal.” When I spoke to Arpad, he asked if I had played piano. I replied that I had not studied piano, but that I had dabbled with accordion, guitar, cello and violin. I expressed the difficulty in playing an unfretted stringed instrument and how long it takes just to locate the notes. He replied that one of the real problems learning cello was that you would have to spend at least $30,000 to get a decent instrument. When I asked what he thought of digital pianos, he said they were fine, but they were not pianos.

    I began to see a man who was serious, particular and uncompromising. But if you are being paid to tune a musical instrument with 220 strings, a compromising individual may not be the best for the job.

    Arpad hails from Hungary, where he learned his craft at the Hungarian Musical Instrument School. He has worked twenty years as a piano rebuilder, tuner and technician. He also plays. I spoke to him at length about a number of subjects – he encouraged me to read about Léon Theremin, Jean-Henri Pape and an early instrument, the monochord. I quickly learned that, like many trades people trained in a European tradition, this man’s knowledge was very thorough.

    I was unaware that a piano has between 220 and 240 strings (the treble is in groups of three, the tenor and part of the bass in pairs and one string in the very low bass.) When I showed surprise that treble strings were in groups of three, he told me that this was to match the amplitude of the bass strings and that the increase in volume is the square root of three or about 1.7. I speculated that perhaps few tuners knew the science of music at this level and he assured me that most did not.

    I watched Arpad work his craft, using a wrench, digital tuner and his ears. This is exacting and painstaking work. The piano was badly out of tune and many strings needed to be retuned. I was told that replacing all the strings in a piano is a two day job. I found Arpad to be polite and professional. Like the French, he was quite particular and perhaps even a little persnickety. But if you want well made things or things made well, things fine tuned or things tuned finely, usually it’s a package deal 🙂

    Related Posts: It’s Perfect, Anywhere You Go, Heard It Through the Grapevine, So Where’s David?, Whet Their Appetites, Cello Class

    Posted on by Brian Dubé

  • Abandon All Preconceived Notions Ye Who Enter Here

    Posted on by Brian Dubé

    The Story of Mark Birnbaum, Part 2 (see Part 1 here)


    I know what you are asking because everyone I know has asked the same things, as I have. I have now spent a total of about six hours in conversation with Mark.

    Would you like everything you believe about people brought into question? Do you feel you are a good judge of people? If so, do not come with me into the world of Mark Birnbaum. To be with Mark Birnbaum is challenging and disturbing. To spend time with him will impose a shift in thinking. There is just no way around it.

    On my first meeting (Part 1 of this story), I tactfully asked Mark about his background. He was immediately forthcoming. The biggest surprises were his educational achievements. I asked for a follow up interview, anywhere there was a piano. He generously offered to meet in his home. I recorded our entire 3 hour conversation together and video recorded some of his piano playing.

    I met him at his home on East 48th Street Sunday afternoon at 2:30 PM. He was on time, waiting for me in the lobby of the doorman building he lives in. My first thoughts were to corroborate his claims and ask about this in as tactful a manner as possible. The New York Times had already done a story on Mark, so I asked if they had questioned his claims. He said absolutely – they had done their homework. When I suggested that I might also want to see evidence, he readily agreed. He volunteered that people can say anything and that I should ask for such things.

    He showed me his college diplomas, the purchase contract and proprietary lease for his apartment and his birth certificate showing his birth in Switzerland in 1952 (where he lived for just three years before returning with his parents home to their home in Brooklyn, New York). He allowed me to photograph any documents that I wanted to. I asked direct questions, he gave direct answers. It was refreshing.

    In 1974, Mark graduated Summa Cum Laude from Brooklyn College. He then applied and was admitted to Columbia University, where he obtained a masters degree in one year. He spent about an year and a half in Paris and on his return, he reentered Columbia, where he received his PhD in music composition in 1982. Mark also successfully made all the hurdles for admission to Juilliard, one of the most difficult schools in the world to gain entry to. However, at the time of his admission, there was only one vacancy in musical composition and he was not chosen.

    I spent much of our time together multi-tasking. As I listened closely and we conversed, I simultaneously searched for evidence of lunacy or some serious psychological disorder. I could find none. His home, which I expected to be a shrine to squalor, befitting the artist eccentric, was nothing of the sort. It was extremely tidy and minimalistic, with his Yamaha baby grand piano as centerpiece.

    Not yet knowing about his work and career as a musical performer, I was very curious about his source of income. I was surprised that he owned his own apartment. He had already told me, “I know how to play the game.” I was to learn that he had.
    Mark grew up in Brooklyn. His interest in music started at an early age with a focus on piano. He was for a time a rock and roll drummer and played in a band. His interest in musical genres spans the gamut – classical, rock, blues, jazz, country and the area of his particular interest, ragtime.

    Mark has worked successfully as a performer and teacher in his adult life. He had the typical assortment of odd jobs prior to his days as a student, when he worked as a bartender. From 1989 to 1993, he was musical host on the Joe Franklin TV show. At Manhattan’s 13th Street Theater, he had a weekly show “Hot Piano! Ragtime Blues and Jazz” – five months running. From that time, Mark has worked in music as performer and teacher. See his other credits, music, videos, and bio at his website here.

    I was rapidly losing ground on my initial assessment of this man. At times I felt my sanity was coming into question, not his. Here was a man who was cordial, brilliant, insightful, generous of spirit, gentle, open, talented, articulate and well educated. Apart from his manner of dress, he was normal by any definition. But to spend substantial time with a man dressed this way while having an extraordinary conversation was very disorienting – I was suffering from a severe case of cognitive dissonance. Mark also gone through many incarnations regarding look, as can be seen in my collage of photos from his archives. I asked if he expected that he may reinvent his dress some day, and he said most likely.

    We shared so many insights and connections, it was eerie. We had numerous instances of nearly finishing each others sentences. I also share one of Mark’s passions, that of walking the streets of New York City. It is one of the most important parts of living in this city to me. You may see Mark around town walking in his very slow, deliberate, signature cadence. Mark sees his long daily walks as “integral to his playing, teaching and composing, a tie to New York’s street vibe.” From the New York Times:

    “The street is my inspiration, and if you want to remain immersed in New York you have to walk its streets. I’m a New York street guy, and Manhattan has the best energy in the world.”
    Mr. Birnbaum said he realized the musical importance of the daily walk after meeting the immortal ivory tickler Vladimir Horowitz who told him, “Make sure you walk 40 blocks a day, because if you don’t walk, your fingers don’t run.”

    Mark told me of his influences. One of his life mentors is Bill Schimmel, whom I saw perform, met and wrote a story about (see The Redeemer here). Mark cited several other major influences – Vladimir Horowitz (whom he met) and Artur Rubenstein.

    Ah, you still have the lingering question – “Why does he dress that way?” Let Mark respond:

    Perhaps my purpose in dressing the way I do is to spread joy (cheer people
    up). When someone sees or says something negative—they are not seeing me…
    Or speaking about me. Perhaps I am a mirror or magnifying glass (like Socrates).

    I asked Mark if he was gay. He said no. I asked about his ability to find a partner, dressed as he is:

    My manner of dress is a plus in meeting a partner as far as I know.
    It is a screening process; if someone doesn’t “get it” (like it or appreciate
    it), she would not appreciate me where it counts.

    Mark goes on to say:

    This dress code is an outer manifestation of who I am: an apostle of
    freedom, Zen and Socratic/Orwellian thought).
    Dress Code helps me practice piano, listen, study Zen and the Art of War and
    is done out of self-respect. I respect others as such.

    I dress this way every day– once I am up, whether I am going out in an
    hour, later that day, or (very rarely) staying in. When I had a cold months
    ago and didn’t go out one day. I dressed the same way.
    More a uniform than a costume.

    People see what they like (about themselves) or see what they don’t. It’s less about me than them.
    Some see rock n roll: Elton John, David Bowie, Aerosmith or Kiss–the ’70’s.
    Some see religious significance, spirituality, Shamanism or royalty.

    Some think I am a pimp.
    Some don’t see at all.

    I never explain it much; it would be like explaining jazz.
    One has to experience it, be with it.
    And….People hear what they see; everyone has their own window.

    I know – you’re not quite satisfied. But then this is New York City where there are not only many wonderful and miraculous things, but there are many puzzles and enigmas too. It’s a place where we expect the unexpected. Isn’t that why you’re here?

    Thanks, Dr. Mark Birnbaum, for a look inside your window…

    Note: From a recent email conversation with Mark on June 21, 2011:

    Hi Brian.

    Fabulous article keeps getting better!
    Yes, I walk to the village and back.
    When we met on Houston St, that’s often as far south as I go.
    Bill Schimmel says hello and loves your blog,-calling it the best! (he) considers your article on me the next best thing to being in the NY Times, and that it is the best blog he has seen anywhere.
    I agree with him.

    I’ll see you soon—on one of our walks.

    View Mark’s Youtube channel, Flickr photostream, and website here.

    Other stories from Abandon All Preconceived Notions series: Gaby Lampkey (see here and here), Jenn Kabacinski (see here and here), Driss Aqil

    Other Interesting Individuals: Ferris Butler (see here and here), Professor Robert Gurland (see here and here), Susan Goren, Creative Expert Criminal Suspect, Misfits, Jim Vehap, Walid Soroor, Flamboyant, Street Revival, André (see here and here), Dave, Reverend Billy, Narcissism Gone Wild, Spike

    Posted on by Brian Dubé

  • Abandon All Preconceived Notions Ye Who Enter Here

    Posted on by Brian Dubé

    The Story of Mark Birnbaum, Part 1.   (See Part 2 here.)


    There are many outlandishly dressed characters in New York City. I find the extreme cases rather sad – to me, they appear like a cry for love and attention from a lonely person reaching out. I have seen some of these as regulars at multiple parades where their outfits are completely inappropriately themed, appearing at the Easter, Halloween and Mermaid parades, dressed in the same attire.

    Yet I have been proven wrong in my judgement more times than not, inspiring a series of stories Abandon All Preconceived Notions Ye Who Enter Here – the title being more self-talk than admonition to others.

    I had caught a glimpse of the man in today’s photo just a few times, always walking with a very slow, deliberate, confident gait. I quickly characterized him as the Mad Hatter incarnate, likely a deranged, pathetic, lunatic. At one time, I had taken a photo of him leaving a park. It was blurry and unusable, but just as well, since I had no opportunity to speak to him and find out who he was. I don’t feature anonymous individuals and brand them as lunatics. Another time perhaps.

    Another time presented itself in the most remarkable circumstance. On Friday evening while strolling home from work, I crossed Houston Street, the largest crosstown street in Manhattan. It looks and functions virtually like a divided highway with a landscaped median. At the end of one median at West Broadway, a park bench has been installed in what can easily be argued as one the most visible and inauspicious places. It is unimaginable that anyone would want to sit between 6 lanes of traffic, whooshing by in two directions. I have never seen it used.

    But there he was, carefully composed sitting on a bench, a photo begging to be taken. Brightly colored hair extensions, an enormous mad hatter style hat, face paint, necklaces with skulls and bones, heavy gloves on a hot day, a sport jacket with no shirt, a knotted tuft of hair under his chin, his enormous signature silver-glittered platform boots, a cane and smoking a cigar. Calm, cool and collected.

    Approaching someone like this can be very tricky with unpredictable response. So far my experience has only been positive – I have concluded that anyone so outlandishly dressed is certainly not averse to attention and quite used to others taking photos. See the list of links below which feature profiles of some of the most interesting individuals I have encountered in my travels in New York City: Ferris Butler, Professor Robert Gurland, Gaby Lampkey, Jenn Kabacinski, Driss Aqil, Susan Goren, the Creative Expert, the Swaggertist in Blue, Hector, the Misfits, Jim Vehap, Walid Soroor, Flamboyant, Todd Bentley, André, Dave, Reverend Billy, the Dance Parade, Narcissism Gone Wild, and Spike.

    Although permission to take a photo in a public place to be used for editorial purposes is not legally necessary, I prefer to seek the consent and cooperation of subjects when they are featured in a story. So, I opted to ask permission. His response “of course” was surprising. He was extraordinarily cordial and a small mini-photoshoot ensued. He was so accommodating, I decided take a seat next to him.

    An hour and a half passed, interrupted by the myriad of passengers and pedestrians stopping to take photos. I could see that if one is interested in drawing attention, dressing like this and sitting on a bench on Houston Street will certainly achieve that. I recorded over 40 minutes of a conversation so engaging, that at its end, my companion said “we rocked.” It was a real life My Dinner With André meets Alice in Wonderland, New York City style.

    In Part 2, you will meet Mark Birnbaum. Trust me – he is not the man you think he is at all…

    Note: To those who have asked, Mark’s shoes were purchased at Trash and Vaudeville.

    Related Posts: Ferris Butler Part 1, Professor Gurland Part 1, Jenn Kabacinski Part 1, On the Road, Fashion Forward

    Posted on by Brian Dubé

  • Grace of a Boombox God

    Posted on by Brian Dubé

    Those of us who lived in New York City in the 1970s and 80s can testify to the very serious quality of life issues – graffiti covered subways, vandalism, garbage, crime, noise, drugs. The streets were minefields of dog poop just waiting for the next victim – those unfamiliar with the terrain or seasoned New Yorkers who had a momentary lapse of attention to the sidewalks. It was a very rough time and not the promised land at all. The most common question I was asked at the time about my choice to live in New York City was “Why?”

    In hindsight, those times are examined at arms length, analyzed, discussed, debated, romanticized and even missed. A case in point is a recent book reviewed in the New York Times:

    Mr. Owerko’s interest grew into a book, “The Boombox Project: The Machines, the Music, and the Urban Underground,” published this month by Abrams Image. It features his lovingly detailed close-up photographs of vintage portable stereos, as well as commentary by Spike Lee, L L Cool J and members of the Beastie Boys and the Fugees about the role the devices played in New York’s street culture from the late 1970s to the mid-’80s.

    In shot after full-page shot, Mr. Owerko — best known for his image of the smashed World Trade Center on the cover of Time magazine on Sept. 14, 2001 — venerates an audio technology that, to eyes accustomed to the iPod’s futuristic smoothness, seems practically steampunk: hard, square-edged metal casing; wheel-size speakers protected by silvery-black grilles; lots of clunky knobs and buttons. And at the heart of every boombox is a cassette deck.

    Many who bemoan the loss of the edge, grit, authenticity, lack of over gentrification, etc., were either not there or perhaps with selective memory, forget that living in that environment was in numerous ways quite awful. Many of the pleasant memories of that era often have more to do with the youthful enthusiasm and a spirit of reckless abandon and fearless adventure of young urban cowboys than any inherent charm of the city. New York City provided its own flavor of the lawless wild west.

    One of the most annoying and dreadful elements of the late 1970s and 1980s was the boombox. This portable party machine could be cranked to deafening levels, even outdoors against the ambient din of the city. At times it felt like there was no escaping it – the ghetto blasters were everywhere to be found including spaces where one expected quiet enjoyment like parks. To make matters worse, the music played was very limited, typically disco, a genre I quickly grew to abhor, or hip hop. You would not hear anything else, certainly not classical, country, blues or classic rock. We prayed for the death of disco and these infernal machines. Our wishes were eventually granted but it was an interminable wait of a decade.

    Boomboxes were HEAVY. It was a job to carry them all day. Some required as many as 20 D-cell batteries, which, allowing for continuous play and volumes, would only last the day. The cost of these batteries became major budgetary items for those who carried their boxes daily. They were essentially the Walkmans or iPods of their day, but as a broadcast device, they could hardly be considered personal audio players.

    On Monday, while walking on Broadway, I encountered what had to be the largest boombox I have ever seen. A pedestrian nearby commented to me “I feel like its the 90s again.” Perhaps he was not aware that if his only experience of boomboxes was the in the 90s, then he had not enjoyed true noise pollution.

    The owner was walking very briskly. I fumbled for my camera and ran after him, asking if he would permit a photo. With a pompous attitude and only a side glance, he made a beckoning motion with one hand, indicating I follow him as we both ran through Broadway traffic. He stopped for a second, giving me no time to compose a decent photo. I was a bit frustrated, however, I had to remind myself, that even though it was only for a brief moment, I had gotten a free trip in time and had been granted the Grace of a Boombox God 🙂

    Related Posts: Float Master, Part 2, Float Master, Part 1, Too Too New York, Deaf Jam, I’ve Got a Feeling, 5 Pointz, Columbo, Monk and CSI, Men Making Noise, New York State of Mind

    Posted on by Brian Dubé

  • Just Click Here

    Posted on by Brian Dubé

    The photos above are stills which link to videos taken at the recent party from my story, Myra’s Isle. Many terrific musicians attended – John Leonard, Ali Abidin, Sage Logan, Joe Rios, Rigel Sarjoo, Lori Behrman, Rene Logeais, Lee Lawless and Gaby Lampkey. The photo link on the left is that of the inimitable Lee Lawless playing Stormy Monday Blues. The photo link on the right is that of Gaby Lampkey playing She Talks to Angels by the Black Crowes.

    I have done two stories involving my meeting with Gaby and the incredible connection we shared, unbeknownst to both of us. See On the Road and When Brian Met Sally. I am happy to report that Gaby is no longer on the streets of NYC. Congrats to his new life.

    ‘Twas a great party with spontaneous groupings of musicians. If you want a taste of what it was like to be there, courtesy of Lee Lawless and Gaby Lampkey, just click here 🙂

    Note: I have created a YouTube channel for New York Daily Photo videos. I will add all the video clips associated with stories on this website. I also plan to add more video content to New York Daily Photo in the future. It will be Live From New York 🙂

    Related Posts: Ferris Butler Part 2, Ferris Butler Part 1, Gaby Lampkey Part 2, Curse of the Mouth Trumpet, Impossible, The Bathroom Closes in 20 Minutes, Pockets of Joy, Just Like Old Times, Dave, Smile, The Conductor, Sounds of Summer, Spinning, Park Night

    Posted on by Brian Dubé

  • Myra’s Isle

    Posted on by Brian Dubé





    As regular readers well know, I am a habitué of Washington Square Park, my front and back yard. Here, I have met many remarkable people, some of whom have been featured on the website. It has, for a number of us who live in the neighborhood, become a veritable social club.

    However, this environment is certainly not for the average palate, and admittedly, as is often the case in New York City, one must tolerate a spectrum of people – the violent, hostile, drug addicts and dealers, crusties, homeless, and every manner of misfit, social outcast, and criminal known to humankind. Any park regular will by necessity, at least occasionally, encounter, or should I say be accosted by, very unsavory individuals, particularly late at night, which will certainly remove any doubt that werewolves, zombies, or vampires do in fact exist.

    Building a social life in such an environment tests one’s ability to maintain a balance, giving all the benefit of the doubt – being polite and respectful yet cautious. It is a harsh educational experience – one of the many courses for those attending New York’s Sidewalk University. The trials and tribulations of being homeless are clearly illuminated – I have learned what this really means on a day to day basis.

    Some time ago, I had a conversation about these matters with Myra, a neighborhood resident, who owns an apartment with one of the finest locations I have ever seen in the Village – a four-bedroom corner duplex penthouse that fronts both Fifth Avenue and Washington Square North with a private 1,400 square foot outdoor roof deck and additional terraces in front. You can virtually touch the Washington Square arch from nearly every window and space. At night, the illuminated monument is absolutely stunning.

    Myra is well aware of the privileged residence she has. In fact, she expressed her desire to share it more with others. This, in tandem with conversations about taking our park social group indoors from time to time, led Myra to graciously offer her place as venue for a party. The conversation was recently further explored with another local resident, Hellen. Our mutual enthusiasms knew no bounds, and in short order, a three person party planning committee was formed.

    A spreadsheet was created to manage the names and RSVPs. As any party planner will attest, managing the number of invitees becomes a big challenge – there is no end to who should rightfully be invited, and soon our party list numbered 47. Individuals of every imaginable background were in attendance with a heavy representation of musicians, important to all those attending. Music is one of the best loved features of the park’s culture.

    Initially, the party was to wish a friend farewell who was leaving for the summer – an NYU student who has befriended our group, particularly the musicians (herself a guitarist and singer). Coincidentally, this was also the birthday for Harvey, Hellen’s husband, and a celebration for Steve, who had just started a new job. Remarkably, Sally, with whom I had a chance encounter in 2010, was coming to New York the very same weekend with her family. It was also the first time I had ever actually planned and co-hosted a party, a cause for celebration in its own right. Hellen provided celebratory tags and placed them on dessert cakes for this amazing serendipitous occurrence of five events.

    Among the attendees whom I have written about previously were: Sally Darling, Gaby Lampkey, Ferris Butler (see here and here), Susan Goren, and Sage. George Vellonakis, a noted landscape architect responsible for the park redesign, was also aboard. Ferris was accompanied by Beverly Ross, singer-songwriter responsible for the hit song “Lollipop.”

    Unbeknownst to us, George brought a friend, Tina Louise, an actress who is best known for her role as the movie star Ginger on the TV series Gilligan’s Island – quite appropriate to round out our own cast of characters. We now had a professor (Steve), Mary, a millionaire and his wife, a movie star (the real Ginger), and even a Tiny Louise. Two members of our party planning group certainly qualified as skipper and mate and did their very best to make our group of 47 castaways in self-exile very happy and comfortable in Myra’s Isle 🙂

    Go here for more footage from this party.

    Related Posts: Curse of the Mouth Trumpet, Impossible, On the Road, The Bathroom Closes in 20 Minutes, Pockets of Joy, Just Like Old Times, DaveThe Conductor, Sounds of Summer, Park Night

    Posted on by Brian Dubé

  • Float Master, Part 2

    Posted on by Brian Dubé

    Anything Can Happen (See Part 1 here)

    If you want to explore what New York City has to offer, you will have to mingle among the people. Unfortunately, this means all the people, regardless of income, hygiene, scrupulousness, or sanity. Unless you make an extraordinary effort at insulation, you will encounter the broadest range of haves and have-nots imaginable on the streets, in the subways, shops, restaurants, parks, and festivals.

    In just the last five years authoring this website, I have encountered: a woman with a rat resting on her shoulder under her matted dreads, a man who pushes the limits of gender and fashion, a woman who eats bugs for a living at the Coney Island Sideshow, Walid Soroor – an Afghani Rock Star, an Alaskan Tlingit Indian musician on the road for 10 years, women who wear rooster feathers as fashion, Jenn – a very gothic woman whose circle of family and friends are subway conductors, Dr. Robert Gurland – a Professorial superstar, Will Galison – an unassuming guitar player who I later learned is legendary with an entire wikipedia entry of credits, Ferris Butler – a man who redefines quirky and is likely the inspiration for the film Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, a man wearing militaristic regalia with a solitary spike of hair, a tattooed and pierced ex-marine sporting plaid shorts who at one time was pursuing a masters in theology, an Albino Burmese Python slithering on the street, Water Sprites, an Urban Wood Nymph and an older man so grotesquely tattooed and pierced that I could not bring myself to photograph him.

    On one occasion, I stopped to talk to a homeless man who was collecting bottles, acknowledging how his task of collection and redemption appeared to be rather exhausting. Angrily, he replied, “Don’t patronize me.” Gotcha. I was guilty as charged. Here, beware of the homeless, who are often educated, intelligent, astute, sometimes insane, and/or angry and frustrated.

    A peaceful afternoon in the park or strolling the streets, may or may not be peaceful. If you play chess at the various parks, expect every manner of kibitzing and trash talk. Or, as I once witnessed, someone drawing a gun and firing it at someone previously involved in a drug deal to even the score, with only a momentary break in playing the game – see Chess Monsters here.

    If you are going to street perform in New York City, you had better be prepared for every manner of intrusion and disruption, including but not limited to verbal abuse, physical assault, or being upstaged by a lunatic. During the breakdancing show (see Part 1 here), a man from the crowd became very animated by the music and performers. I have no idea why he was wearing a full-length white fur in the middle of April, nor why nearly every article of his wardrobe was white. As he began to dance, the audience egged him on, and with little encouragement, he did his best at an impromptu performance:

    Although some may see the display as an effort to upstage, John Rich and his posse looked on in amusement, realizing that this was just another day in New York City, where, Float Master or not, Anything Can Happen 🙂

    Related Posts: Ferris Butler Part 1, Professor Gurland Part 1, Gaby Lampkey Part 2, Jenn Kabacinski Part 1, Birds of a Feather Tied Together Part 1, Fashion Forward

    Posted on by Brian Dubé

  • Float Master, Part 1

    Posted on by Brian Dubé

    No Smoking


    I recall the first time someone referred to one of my products as “bad.” Initially insulted, I later was informed that bad meant good. However, I just could not fully accept that a word could mean the same as its opposite. It took some years before I saw and heard enough examples to really get it – intonation and context is critically important to conveying this meaning. To this day, it is used sparingly and only a certain type of good seems to be bad. It was one of my first forays into urban slang in New York City, the capital of urban culture.

    I never stop to see anything resembling b-boying, aka breakdancing. Born in the Bronx and Harlem, it has been done to death on the streets of New York for decades, often by those moderately skilled and certainly eclipsed by serious gymnasts or acrobatic performers. However, the group which meets regularly at the Union Square subway station main platform on Saturdays, is something else. I decided to stop and bring myself up to date on the hardest of the hardcore – acrobatic hip-hop dancers working on concrete in the New York City subway system, risking fines.

    This group’s leader is “Float Master” John Rich, born in East Harlem where he still lives. He is 46 years old and has been dancing since the age of eight. John has done gigs worldwide and a commercial for Puma. At this time, he prefers working New York City. Although most street performers barely survive or just supplement their incomes, never underestimate what a savvy top street performer can earn in this city – John makes as much as several hundred dollars on a good day and earns a living dancing on the streets, supplemented with occasional party jobs. He is currently attending New York institute of Technology, working towards a bachelor’s degree in computer science.

    I was impressed by John’s act, the finale of the show, with his skilled dancing and signature routine – manipulation of a lit cigarette with his mouth. At one point, John inverts the cigarette, completely enveloping it and proceeds to blow smoke in tune with his movements. It is best understood live (John’s routine is at the end of the clip):

    The skill level of the various acts was extraordinary. A standard has been set and only a fool with poor skills would enter the fray.

    No brand of New York City street activity would be authentic without attitude and John Rich has plenty of that – cool, confident and exuding that smugness that nothing impresses a New Yorker. Certainly not a group of young men defiant enough to risk ticketing or feature a routine with cigarette smoking in the subway system, often with the police watching. Depending on the size of the audience the performance attracts and any other number of variables, the group is often ticketed and shut down, whereupon they take their show elsewhere.

    I met John at the end of the show. He was quite personable, excited that I would be featuring him here and quite amused when I told him that I would be calling the story No Smoking. But after reviewing the photos and video, I recalled how this particular show was punctuated by a surprise impromptu visitor. In Part 2, you will meet the bizarre man who apparently thought that he too, was a Float Master

    Related Posts: Tired of Crumbs, Makes Me Stronger

    Posted on by Brian Dubé

  • Crooks and Perverts

    Posted on by Brian Dubé


    On November 17, 1973, during a televised question and answer session with the press, President Richard Nixon said:

    People have got to know whether or not their President is a crook. Well, I’m not a crook. I’ve earned everything I’ve got.

    Crook is a bit outdated, the kind of word you may have heard around my home during my childhood, along with other words like floozy, gallivanting, tramp and shindig. Today, a crook seems rather benign, perhaps someone prone to petty crimes like swindling a customer or shoplifting.

    In a world of alternative lifestyles and extreme behaviors, pervert is also much less meaningful than it once was, bordering on the quaint.

    Coming up with a good name for a music group is difficult – akin to finding a catchy dotcom not yet registered. There are inanimate objects – The Doors, The Cars and Rolling Stones; insects – The Beatles, The Crickets, The Hornets, Iron Butterfly, Adam Ant, Hungry Locust, Spiders from Mars; automobiles – R.E.O.Speedwagon, The Cadillacs, The BelAirs, Fleetwood Mac; animals – The Monkees, The Animals, The Byrds, The Eagles, The Turtles, Stone Ponies, The Black Crowes. The categories, single word names and simple phrases are endless, including the vulgar, irreverent, angry, defiant, lovely, ironic and nonsensical – The Sex Pistols, Led Zeppelin, Leftöver Crack, Pavement, Mötley Crüe, et. al.

    When I first heard Crooks and Perverts play, they immediately exuded a feeling of authenticity. When I spoke to them, I learned that their members are from Georgia. They have a unique blend of authentic southern roots, rough country boys with an urban sensibility and musical sophistication – I recently saw them in Matt Umanov Guitars sampling the wares.

    However, regardless of changing times and mores, I would still be wary of anyone who calls themselves a crook or pervert 🙂

    Note: Crooks and Perverts are now based in Bedford-Stuyvesant, Brooklyn, and can be seen playing the streets of New York City. You can find their website here with music samples, videos, etc.

    Related Posts: The Real Peel, Tired of Crumbs, Street Poet, Makes Me Stronger, Famine and Feast, Sieve, Street Magic

    Posted on by Brian Dubé

  • Penny’s from Heaven

    Posted on by Brian Dubé



    I have seen people get in very long lines at trade shows for free things, not even knowing what was being given away. I have seen people fight like wild animals over a few free T-shirts thrown to audience members. I have seen people who have money eat food that is virtually inedible because it is free.

    I have seen street vendors very frustrated with me as I show resistance to a purchase as they keep lowering the price with no effect. They just don’t seem to understand – if I really don’t want it, cheap will not change my desire.

    Free or cheap, particularly for entertainment, is not a big incentive for me. In New York City, there are so many cheap and free options for performances that a person who values their time at all has to be selective. However, as I wrote in Free Lunch, values do exist, and there is quality to be found in New York City for free or cheap in places like Under St. Marks (see story here). However, I had not yet been to Penny’s Open Mic until last night, when I went to a show for the first time.

    Penny’s Open Mic was started in 2007 by Penny Pollak and collaborators Milazzo and Marsha Brown. Penny is an actress, writer ,and performer. See more about her here and the venue here.
    Every Tuesday night, at 9PM, performers of every ilk show up at this tiny underground theater – musicians, singers, actors, poets, dancers, comedians, monologists. They sign up to perform, and their names are dropped in a bucket – 30 are chosen at random to determine who will perform and the order of performing. They are given 7 minutes to showcase before a live audience. Penny acts as emcee and timekeeper. A large number of the audience members are performers themselves, so the atmosphere is one of camaraderie and support.

    The talent and level of experience varies, as would be expected. I found last night’s performance outstanding. The live band and accompanying guitar are very strong elements. It was clear that many of the acts I saw had been fine tuned over a long period of time. Pieces from Frigid New York were done.

    It is critical that venues like this exist for budding/aspiring performers or for the more seasoned to showcase new material. The admission charge is only $3. The focus is on performing, not business. Downstairs at 94 St. Marks Place, on Tuesday nights, the Curse of Trade has not attached to this enterprise and, as both audiences and performers concur, Penny’s from Heaven 🙂

    Posted on by Brian Dubé

  • I Got Caught

    Closing time for bars in New York City is 4 AM. In the United States, only a handful of states or municipalities offer later closings. In those cases, there are typically no statewide mandated closing times at all, like in Nevada, where bars may remain open 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. But the majority of bars in the United States close between 12-2 AM.
    For many, party = alcohol and bars, so, the later the bars stay open, the better the party. For those where 4 AM is still too early, there are after hours clubs. For many, this is the biggest attraction of New York – at any moment, somewhere, it’s party time.

    A small band that I saw perform recently in the Village announced that they would be performing at Shrine NYC. I had heard of this bar/club, and in conversation with one of the musicians, he said that Shrine had some of the best music in the entire city. It is located in Harlem, at 2271 Adam Clayton Powell Boulevard near 134th Street. Visiting Shrine Bar & Restaurant sounded like a good way to broaden my horizons – for most Manhattan residents, Harlem is a remote outpost they will never visit. I asked two friends to accompany me on Saturday night for music.

    The club serves food, and we had decided to eat there as well as go for the music. Hunger called, and we arrived at 7PM – very early for a Saturday night bar scene, but already nearly every table was taken, and a performance was in progress. Our waitresses were disarmingly friendly. I am not sure if this is typical at Shrine or not, but it was not the perfunctory type of service one might expect in a place so boisterous and busy.

    A number of bands were booked there – soon the place was packed, and we no longer had a line of sight to the music. I suggested moving into the throngs for a full immersion experience when the Body Electric Afrofunk Band* was on. From the Body Electric website:

    We are a group of Students, 9 strong, with a shared passion for playing music. Like Fela Kuti, we believe music can invoke a trancelike state and convey meaning and emotion to the listener through the sheer auditory quality of the sound. One of the most important things about seeing live music is the interplay that takes place between audience and artist; we strive to break down the barrier created by “the stage” at every performance we can.

    This was certainly true. We had moved forward towards the group until we were inches from the keyboard player. We were IN the band. Women nearby were dancing or writhing.

    After their performance, I spoke with the trumpet player, Will Healy (see Deaf Jam here). I told him how I would never seek out any music described as funk. However, I absolutely loved Body Electric. They were superb technicians with entrancing music. When I told Will how much I enjoyed their set unexpectedly, he smiled and suggested “You got caught.” Well put I thought, and with no resistance or regrets. Yes, I Got Caught. 🙂

    *The band members are students at Vassar College, Poughkeepsie, NY. See their Facebook page here and Myspace page here.



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