Gansevoort Street Final Entry
Gansevoort Street is a dark, but fashionable street stretching from 10th Avenue to West 13th Street in the Meatpacking District. Named after Peter Gansevoort, a well-known General in the War of Independence, Gansevoort Street portrays a profound sense of history. Its cobbled streets, dented metal utility coverings, brick warehouses, and faded signs provide an escape from the rest of modern, noisy, skyscraping Manhattan.
Gansevoort Street became a safe and quiet place for the trendy to shop at high fashion boutiques, the eccentric to visit the infamous Florent Diner, and the intellect to think or write. But before Gansevoort’s charm was recognized both among the Manhattan community and popular shows like Sex and the City, Gansevoort was a street in the Meatpacking District, when the majority of activity on the street was indeed packing meat. New York Times author Michael Cunningham tells the story of an artist friend of his who rented a studio near Gansevoort. The friend “had a series of 20th-century wisdoms made into rubber stamps and went around the street stamping any bits of discarded meat she found” (Cunningham).
These warehouses depleted in value with the possibility that a resident might one day stumble upon a rubber stamp along side a chicken’s yellow wing. These warehouses became the residences of many artists looking for cheaper lofts and who were willing to sacrifice a little luxury considering that the area was still very much used for meatpacking and often smelled of the carcasses of animals. Ever since it acquired this attention from emerging artists, Gansevoort Street has become synonymous with art and the expression of it.
The Whitney Museum of American Art has even projected to open a downtown location of their prestigious museum on Gansevoort Street between West Street and the High Line. The building is expected to be open to the public in 2015 including “50,000 square feet of indoor galleries and 13,000 square feet of outdoor exhibition” (Whitney). The location on Gansevoort was chosen as the new gallery is expected to “engage the Whitney directly with the bustling community of artists, gallerists, students, educators, entrepreneurs, and residents in the Meatpacking District” (Whitney).
An excerpt from Lee Krasner’s Biography provides us with another illustration of the artistic influence of Gansevoort Street. Gail Levin, the author of A Biography, describes Krasner as she “walked along the West Side of Manhattan, where she observed ships tied up at the docks…The barren roughness of this meatpacking district, with its old cobblestone street and austere brick warehouses, seemed to have attracted her” (Levin). Krasner was able, through her abstract sketch of Gansevoort Street, to capture “the neighborhood’s exoticism, which long attracted artists to its cheap loft spaces located above ground-floor warehouses” (Levin). Gansevoort’s influence on art has now been extended beyond the mere fact that artists live there. Artists began to see Gansevoort as their inspiration. They visited the street to create their art, and their art was about Gansevoort Street. Lee Krasner was the famous artist and wife of Jackson Pollock, who did not live on the street but was rather inspired by it. Her painting is now at the Metropolitan Museum of Art as a gift from The Pollock-Krasner Foundation.
The artists and expressive people that both live on and visit Gansevoort Street have created such a uniquely inspiring and creative energy for these few blocks. It was the moment that I decided to listen instead of look that I realized the essence of its beauty. As I closed by eyes, my senses intensified, and I began to notice the distinctive sound that cars driving over the cobbled streets made, bringing me to some small town on some small, private, rubble and dirt road. I noticed the “metal hitting metal” clacking sound of the freight and supply trucks lined along the streets. But of all the sounds ringing in my ears, my most notable observation was that of a conversation I overheard while stopping for a cappuccino at “Macelleria”. An American man and a French woman were on a date sitting at the table next to me. The man, with his back to me, asked, “What is the most romantic thing a man has ever done for you”. The woman responds, “…you know what, the most romantic thing that has ever happened to me was…I was about 18 years old and my brother’s friends were in my house, and I had very long hair, and I had to wear glasses, a little bit of an ugly duckling… but he changed me forever. He figured I was asleep, but then he took my glasses off and said ‘look at how beautiful you look’, but it was in French”.
This intimate and romantic conversation is to me the essence of the noise on Gansevoort Street. When you walk down this street, you are not bombarded with hundreds of couples and millions of words. On streets with crowds of people, you cannot listen to more than two words of the conversation happening right next to you as thousands of other thoughts shoot at you from every angle. Instead, Gansevoort Street offers few, meaningful thoughts. People don’t come to this street to walk briskly past people, spitting meaningless thoughts and small talk at those they walk with. Instead, they come to a small café in the quaint district to speak with someone about romantic teenage love stories and the like. Gansevoort Street is the place where New Yorkers can come to think and to speak, thoughtfully and meaningfully with someone that they actually want to listen to and be heard by.
Although Gansevoort’s rich history and old-fashioned feel dominates both the architecture and culture of the street, it has just as much of a presence in modern society and most notably in today’s technology as another other street in Manhattan. Only after reading Galloway’s article Intimations of Everyday Life: Ubiquitous Computing and the City did I recognize the dependence I have on mapping and navigation tools such as the Google Maps iPhone App. This tool, silently guiding me to every location I set out to find, includes the few small blocks of Gansevoort Street in its system.
This small street, though, has a history and with this history has become especially charming. There is something enchanting about the cobbled ground formed of mismatched chipped bricks of stone covered in years of dirt, broken glass, and cigarette butts that makes Gansevoort so unique.
Cunningham, Michael. “One Street At a Time; Gansevoort Street.” The New York Times. The New York Times, 16 Sep 2001. Web. 13 Sep 2011. <http://www.nytimes.com/2001/09/16/magazine/one-street-at-a-time-gansevoort-street.html?pagewanted=2>.
Levin, Gail. Lee Krasner: A Biography. First. New York : Harper-Collins Publishers, Print.
“New Building Project.” Whitney Museum of American Art. Whitney Museum of American Art, 2011. Web. 29 Nov 2011. <http://whitney.org/About/NewBuilding/About>.
Gansevoort Street Entry #1
[Gansevoort Plaza then and now (5)]
As I walked the cobbled streets of the meatpacking district this weekend, I was surprised to run into the very street that I was assigned, Gansevoort. I immediately noticed the charm in the downtown, very far west street. After a little research on the street, I found that it was named after the “Revolutionary War hero and the grandfather of Herman Melville”, a famous American novelist (3). Peter Gansevoort was a well-known General in the War of Independence. After the war ended, he became a Brigadier General in the Albany County Militia until he died in 1812 (2). Before the street was named after Gansevoort, it was referred to as Great Kiln Street (4). I also found that in the past, it was often the residence of many artists looking for cheaper lofts and willing to sacrifice a little luxury considering that the area is still very much used for meat packing and often smells of the carcasses of animals (1).
The charm in this street, however, lies in the many antique shops where one can expect to find vintage furniture among other treasures, and the history of place like the famous late night Florent Diner written about in the New York Times (1). Florent, although not on the street anymore, was one of five restaurants that accompanied the three retailers and one nightclub on the block (3). Another landmark associated with the famous street is the High Line Park, an abandoned railroad built in 1929 for the purpose of transporting freight. The High Line originally stretched from 35th Street to St. John’s Park Terminal (4).
The Gansevoort Pennisula marks the end of Gansevoort Street where it meets the Hudson River. Although often referred to as a pier, it is actually a landfill (4). The other end of Gansevoort Street hits West 13th Street, stretching the street only about four blocks in length.
The street, although seemingly desolate and marked only by animal waste, has actually become a trendy street in the meatpacking district, showing a charm that is often not found in other areas of Manhattan.
Gansevoort Street Entry #2
“No Parking – Active 24 HRS.”
The worn down warehouse that sits at 58 Gansevoort Street immediately stood out to me. Above an old, locked, dented garage door, city strollers read “No Parking – Active 24 HRS” on an equally dented and old piece of dirt covered metal. The words immediately made me smile, as I could not observe any activity at all coming from this business. Although they claimed to be open at all hours of the night, they were clearly not a 24-hour business, or any hour business as they were closed at 6:00pm on a Monday.
The irony in this sign seemed to explain much of what Gansevoort Street is all about. On the broken cobbled streets, surrounded by old, worn down warehouses and unfinished construction sites, there lie trendy restaurants, retail stores, people, and events. Although 58 Gansevoort Street may not be the active 24 hour business it once was, Gansevoort Street, along with the lively restaurants catering to the late night crowd, still is.
Gansevoort Street Entry #3
Walking on Gansevoort Street displaces you from the hustle and bustle of the typical New York City streets. There is something especially charming about the cobbled ground formed of mismatched chipped bricks of stone covered in years of dirt, broken glass, and cigarette butts. This old town trend can also be recognized in the architecture of the surrounding buildings made with similar bricks, often times covered with chipped paint and faded signs from companies occupying the space in the past. These faded letters remind you to think of the historical value such an area of the city has.
Walking on the street, I also noticed that many of the buildings are much shorter in comparison to the large twenty plus story buildings that house the majority of residences in New York City. The warehouses and buildings aren’t made for crammed apartments, but rather studios for artists and the like.
The street is filled with decrepit warehouses and dark tones, but somehow conveys a certain beauty that seems unique only to Gansevoort. The proof of this beauty lies in the fact that it is a growing and developing area, and has become a trendy spot for the nightlife crowd. Although empty at this time in the day, you can sense the activity that occurred the night before. With this idea, we can see beyond the map of Gansevoort Street. This focus on a feeling or experience beyond the map and grid that is the structure of the city is something that the authors of this week’s reading greatly considered. I experienced a certain human agency that set my experience on Gansevoort Street apart from any other person walking the street. By walking on Gansevoort Street, I could sense the strange blend of emptiness and richness.
Gansevoort Street Entry #4
I felt that with our access to the New York Times Database, it would interesting to focus on the change in history of Gansevoort Street. With this, I have pulled articles from 1880, 1884, and 1927 with an attempt to detect an interesting change.
In the 1880 article, “The Gansevoort Market: Private Property Which Must Be Obtained to Enlarge It”, the author discusses the establishment of a “market for farmers and market-gardners in this City” (6). The plan that major political figures of that time decided upon was to acquire 60 lots. The “aggregate price asked for [these lots] by the owners [was] $235,550, but its value…[was] only $134,500” (6).
The article written in 1884 entitled “Money for Gansevoort Street”, further explores the price in which it will cost to build this Gansevoort Marketplace (7). The sum apparently needed to be “increased from $150,000 to $250,000” (7). The amount of money discussed in these articles makes the article written in 1927 very surprising.
“Gansevoort Market”, written in 1927 discusses the uses of this market and the various farms surrounding the area. This account many years later, declares that someone at this time would be offered “a couple of hundred thousand dollars for a farm” (8). When compared to the numbers expressed in earlier articles to describe the entire marketplace, the amount for a single farm seems astronomical. I was particularly interested in these fiscal facts as Gansevoort Street today is in a desirable area with then correlating real estate prices.
Gansevoort Street Entry #5
The various stores and unique establishments that have come in and out of the lots of Gansevoort Street are to me what make the street so different. When initially beginning my research on the street, I was often faced with various historical and anecdotic accounts of the famous Florent diner. From its media involvement with popular television shows to its reputation as the last nightspot for a very eclectic group of people, Florent diner is more than just a place to grab a bite.
I decided, when given access to the tools that Alexa Pearce showed us in the session, that this address was worth looking into. 69 Gansevoort Street would be my focus for this week. The NYCityMap feature of the government run website for New York City offers a vast amount of information on any address in the city.
Florent Diner, the once “24 hours French diner that opened in 1985” (9), has been written about countless times in the New York Times and other very reputable publications. Before its closing, it sat at 69 Gansevoort Street, now a landmark building according to NYCity Map (10). It is a building in the Historic District of Gansevoort Market, a place that I have shown in previous exercises to have existed for many years and attracted much attention.
There was a particular feature of the government’s website that I found most appropriate to look into for my research. A section marked “complaints”, when clicked, links to you a page of all the complaints associated with this address. Florent Diner, with a “fervid following that includes (but is not limited to) neighborhood stalwarts, fashion icons, queer activists, famous drag performers, eccentric night owls, club kids, the offspring of club kids, maverick politicians, burlesque dancers, and celebrities ranging from Lou Reed to Sarah Jessica Parker” (9) surprisingly did not have any documented complaints on this website. I would think with this activity at such a well known place, the one complaint under 69 Gansevoort Street would not be documented as coming from a private residence not within the time that the diner was open. After some further consideration, I may suggest that this may be due to the fact that Gansevoort Street was not, during the time Florent was popular, a residential area. The artists and various people that lived in the area, and especially on the street, were probably not complainers of the situation and maybe even added to the noise and excitement of Florent Diner.
My research into the site provided me with a lot of knowledge about the street and especially about the much-raved about and infamous diner. The site is a good tool for a lot of information, ranging from very public information such as the number of floors in a building to more private facts such as the formal complaints against occupants of the buildings.
Gansevoort Street Entry #6
In most of my research for this course, I have found that Gansevoort Street is often times associated with the art world of New York City. The lofts and open spaces are known as the studios and residences of New York City artists. An excerpt from Lee Krasner’s Biography, however, offers a new twist to the story of the art scene and Gansevoort Street.
“For another 1934 canvas, Gansevoort I, Krasner walked along the West Side of Manhattan, where she observed ships tied up at the docks. Gansevoort Street extends through its gritty riverfront neighborhood east to the point where both it and West Fourth end at West Thirteenth, a block south of West Fourteenth. The barren roughness of this meatpacking district, with its old cobblestone street and austere brick warehouses, seemed to have attracted her.
In her pencil sketch Study for Gansevoort I, Krasner included on the sidewalk’s right side a pair of figures sitting and reclining. Given the context of the Depression, the men are probably homeless. The drawing also includes trashcans and assorted debris that she eliminated in her final painted composition; and she moved the fire hydrant from the street’s left to its ride side. Reducing the details, she sought to achieve an urban modernity worthy of the French painter Fernand Léger, who first visited New York in 1931. She nonetheless captured the neighborhood’s exoticism, which long attracted artists to its cheap lost spaces located above ground-floor warehouses” (11).
Immediately after reading this excerpt, I thought of how interesting it was that although the author is speaking about art and Gansevoort Street, the description goes beyond the mere fact that artists live there. I hear so often that the lofts are used by artists, but this was the first time in my research that I heard about an artists visiting Gansevoort Street to do art, about Gansevoort Street. In this situation, the street serves not only as a home to artists, but also to the art. It is now an inspiration for art. Lee Krasner, wife of Jackson Pollock, was a famous artist that did not live on the street but rather visited it to do her work. Her painting is now at the Metropolitan Museum of Art as a gift from The Pollock-Krasner Foundation.
Although this particular piece was taken from a biography and is not considered a conventional work of fiction, I feel that it works in conjunction with what we talked about in class in relation to what makes New York City fiction what it is. One characteristic of New York City Fiction, according to what we spoke about in class, was that it often provides the reader with a temptress to the city. Although people living in the city may suffer and at times feel so unhappy, they will always think it is the best place to live, better than anywhere in America. This has a lot to do with the ways in which the media and even literature portrays the city. I feel that the mere fact that Krasner changed facts about the street, such as taking out details and changing fire hydrant locations, shows the deceit that took place. People believed what they saw, or at least let what they saw have such an impression on them that it affected the ways in which they viewed a street.
Krasner’s inspiration from Gansevoort Street inspired me in another way, as I am inspired to look at the ways in which a painting or literature about a street can alter all conceptions of that place.
Gansevoort Street Entry #7
While searching for media representations of Gansevoort Street, nothing stood out more than the flashing lights of a documentary made of the infamous Florent Diner. “Florent Diner: The Queen of the Meat Market” is more than just the story of a popular diner only to be thought of in memory after its closing. The documentary tells the story of the eccentric and the diverse that make up Manhattan, and that flocked to this welcoming after hours diner for freedom of expression.
The diner was described by Isaac Mizrahi as a place where you “thought you were dreaming…you weren’t there”. It was a fantasyland where all was welcomed and encouraged, except exclusivity and judgment.
The norm: men dressed as women, women dressed as men, women with wigs and only stickers to cover their naked bodies, men with lipstick smeared across their faces.
Florent Morellet was an activist that made Florent Diner a place where the “gay rights movement found a home”, as Frank Decaro explained in the film. This innovative club, peaking at four or five in the morning as the place to go after the nightclubs closed, also attracted the attention of many well-known celebrities.
Their commitment and love for this infamously accepting place was seen through the video interviews with Isaac Mizrahi, Diane Von Furstenberg, and Julianne Moore among many others featured in the film. The celebrities interviewed for the documentary had nothing but admiration for the 24-hour diner and all that it stood for. The film exposed me to the life and personalities occupying Gansevoort Street during the popularity of Florent and the community that this club encouraged. Even after Florent’s closing, the street will forever keep the reputation the diner so forceful instated. Florent seems to me, from reviews, my previous research and most significantly, this film, to be the life of the party on Gansevoort Street, serving as a very significant and important representation of Gansevoort Street overall.
Gansevoort Street Entry #8
Gansevoort Street is particularly dark at night. Even at sunset, when color can still be seen in the sky, the street has a strangely dim and shadowy hue. The dark red brick buildings and grey cobbled streets soak in the darkness, rejecting the small bit of sun left.
The people on Gansevoort Street after sunset are usually headed toward destinations like the Gansevoort Hotel, an upscale hotel with a trendy bar scene. They stumble across the cracked stone street in heels and trendy winter weather fur coats. The men and women on Gansevoort Street during the night hours are not residents of the street, but rather visitors using the location as a social mingling hot spot. They walk in pairs or small groups, each on their way to some fashionable restaurant, bar or lounge that will soon prepare them for the nightclubs only a few streets away throughout the meat packing district. The darker it gets, the higher the heels get and as we had mentioned in class, the less people seem to be wearing.
This idea seems counterintuitive as the lack of sun only encouraged the need for more warmth and clothing. One would think that the darkness would provoke some feeling of fear, encouraging women to cover their bodies and protect themselves from criminals. Instead, women feel that they are masked by the darkness and therefore able to show more skin without the judging stares of New Yorkers in the daytime. The families of Gansevoort Street are at this time asleep, or at least in their homes, so those just beginning their night feel no obligation to dress conservatively in the slightest.
Before the sun sets, Gansevoort Street is a place to shop for the wealthy New Yorkers willing to spend money in the high-end boutiques. The daytime Gansevoort Street stroller is trendy, but classy. As soon as the sun sets, Gansevoort Street becomes a thoroughfare to the late night dancing clubs and pricey bars. It becomes a place where those of the social scene of Manhattan express their status, style, and wealth through fashion statements and a carefully selected entourage.
Gansevoort Street Entry #9
Although it is a very short street, Gansevoort Street seems to have a rather large media presence in comparison. In the very popular Sex and the City, Samantha, one of the four main characters, is said to live at 300 Gansevoort Street. The location of each character’s residence provides for much of the characterization and character development of the four women. Carrie lives uptown, a location she chose as it is “close to Barneys” (Season 3, Episode 48). In the same vein, Samantha’s eccentric and highly sexualized personality seems to match almost perfectly with the reputation of Gansevoort Street and the Meat Packing District. In “Cock-a-Doodle-Do”, Episode 48 of Season 3, the characters are annoyed with the various disruptions that occur late at night on their street. The animal hospital across from Carrie’s uptown apartment holds roosters outside that seem to wake her up every morning. At a lunch where the four girls meet to vent, Samantha adds with her personal conflict regarding her Gansevoort Street apartment.
Upset with the events that occurred the night before, Samantha proclaims “I’m paying a fortune to live in a neighborhood that is trendy by day and tranny by night” (Season 3, Episode 48). As was the case with the night before, it seems that “every night at 4am, they start up…like they are putting on some kind of a show” (Season 3, Episode 48).
After complaining for half of the episode, Samantha decides to do something about the late night disruptions. In her gold silk outfit and high heels, Samantha waltzes outside to tell the “half men half women” (Season 3, Episode 48), as she puts it, that it had to stop.
Samantha decides to use her “PR skills” (Season 3, Episode 48) to reach the tranny inhabitants of the street. She acts as she always does, seductive and forward and they seem to be very receptive. The tranny women compliment her heels and apologize for their loud late night conversations.
Samantha, although she is a very intelligent and successful business women, has an attitude much similar to that of the tranny’s. Everyone on Gansevoort Street carries themselves with some sort of something different. The Gansevoort inhabitant, as evidenced by this episode of Sex and the City, is eccentric, forward, spunky, and unafraid. Whether you only visit the neighborhood by night, to meet other cross dressing friends in parked cars or live on the street full time, Gansevoort does something to the people there.
There is a certain acceptance of those out of the ordinary. As I have seen not only by this episode, but also by other media representations such as that of the documentary based on the infamous Florent Diner, Gansevoort Street is the home for those that don’t fit anywhere else. It is home for the transexual, the homosexual, and also the eccentric heterosexual. There is no judgement on Gansevoort Street.
Gansevoort Street Entry #10
When you live in New York, a street like Gansevoort Street hidden deep inside the West Village in Meat Packing District could be considered quiet. It is place to walk around, shop, have a cappuccino or simply breathe as you walk through the wide and fairly open streets. It was only after taking various recordings of the street as I walked from store to store, and sat to have a cappuccino myself at “Macelleria” on the corner of Gansevoort and Greenwich that I realized how much noise actually exists on this street.
At the end of my second recording, I noticed the unique sound that cars driving over the cobbled streets made. If you hadn’t known that the sound was created from a New York City car, you would think that it was the sound of a truck driving over rubble in a town that didn’t pave their streets. The sound brought me to a place so far from New York City. I was brought to some small town on some small, private, rubble and dirt road.
I sat for a while longer on Gansevoort Street listening to the recordings I had made, trying to match some of the smaller background noises I had heard with the events I could see occurring on the street. I could match the “metal hitting metal” clacking sound heard throughout the recordings with the freight and supply trucks lined along the streets. Men opened and closed the large metal truck doors, slamming and locking the openings in an effort to secure the precious cargo that lay inside.
The most notable recording I made from this day, however, was the recording of a conversation I overheard at the same café I mentioned earlier. An American man and a French woman were on a date sitting at the table next to me. I had heard bits and pieces of their conversation but did not realize how much of it I would be able to decipher from the recordings I made on my phone. The man, with his back to me, asked, “What is the most romantic thing a man has ever done for you”. You can hear from the recording that the woman responds, “…you know what, the most romantic thing that has ever happened to me was [cannot decipher] I was about 18 years old and my brother’s friends were in my house, and I had very long hair, and I had to wear glasses, a little bit of an ugly duckling [cannot decipher], but he changed me forever. He figured I was asleep, but then he took my glasses off and said ‘look at how beautiful you look’, but it was in French”. The man asked how it would sound in French, and the woman responded in her native language.
This intimate and romantic conversation is to me the essence of the noise on Gansevoort Street. When you walk down Gansevoort Street, you are not bombarded with hundreds of couples and millions of words. On streets with crowds of people, you cannot listen to more than two words of the conversation happening right next to you as thousands of other thoughts shoot at you from every angle. Instead, Gansevoort Street offers few, meaningful thoughts. People don’t come to this street to walk briskly past people, spitting meaningless thoughts and small talk at those they walk with. Instead, they come to a small café in the quaint district to speak with someone about romantic teenage love stories and the like. Gansevoort Street is the place where New Yorkers can come to think and to speak, thoughtfully and meaningfully with someone that they actually want to listen to and be heard by.
I found the contrast between what I observed aurally on this street and what Corbould noticed to be most interesting. Whereas I focused on a lack of sound and the ways in which people refrained from making sound just make sound on Gansevoort Street in particular, Corbould’s study in Harlem seemed to result in a very different outcome. Because of the difference in the individuals studied, Corbould was presented with loud sounds. Harlem’s residents made noise to claim ownership over their territory. Corbould describes that it is “Through sound, [that] Harlem’s residents created a counterpublic sphere that was a spatialization of black self-expression commonly understood to be an inher- ently political act” (13). I found the contrast between the two studies, because they were done in two different places with two very different groups of people, so interesting as very unique and different results were brought about.
Gansevoort Street Entry #11
Galloway’s article “Intimations of Everyday Life: Ubiquitous computing and the city” expresses the significant influence that emerging technology has on today’s society. The influence that it does have, and our complete dependence on it, has been masked by its ability to blend in and become almost invisible. Galloway describes these technologies as tools, explaining, “A good tool is an invisible took. By invisible, I mean that the tool does not intrude on your consciousness; you focus on the task, not the tool (14). This particular observation struck me, and immediately reminded me of the ways in which I, among many others today, use navigation and mapping devices such as Google Maps.
Having moved to New York completely unfamiliar with the system of ways in which the streets start, cross, curve, and end, I find that I rely mostly on the Google Maps app on my iPhone to get from point A to point B. Point B for this assignment has always been Gansevoort, and although I had visited the street prior to beginning this course, I typed in “Gansevoort Street NYC” into my iPhone to conduct research for the assignment. I was given this.
Google Maps has created a virtual world for that area of the meatpacking district. As I walk down Jane Street and Horatio Street, I envision my location in terms of Google Maps. I envision myself as one or two little white lines (or streets) away from my destination. I envision myself in relation to the yellow lines that represent 10th Avenue, 8th Avenue and 14th Street. I view my surroundings in the way they appear on my iPhone screen, color-coded in the ways that Google Maps presents it. The app is not intrusive or invasive but rather creates this virtual world as it remains invisible.
1. Cunningham, Michael. “One Street At a Time; Gansevoort Street.” The New York Times. The New York Times, 16 Sep 2001. Web. 13 Sep 2011. <http://www.nytimes.com/2001/09/16/magazine/one-street-at-a-time-gansevoort-street.html?pagewanted=2>.
2. “Gansevoort, Peter [1749-1812].” The New Netherland Institute. The New Netherland Institute, n.d. Web. 13 Sep 2011. <http://www.nnp.org/nni/Publications/Dutch-American/gansevoort.html>.
3. “Gansevoort Street between Washington and Greenwich.” NYC Blocks. Playing with Blocks, n.d. Web. 13 Sep 2011. <http://playingwithblocks.blogspot.com/2007/03/gansevoort-street-between-washington.html>.
4. Naureckas, Jim. “New York Songlines: Gansevoort Street.” NYSongLines. NYSongLines, n.d. Web. 13 Sep 2011. <http://www.nysonglines.com/gansevoort.htm>.
5. “Tracking History: Gansevoort Plaza Then & Now.” Off the Grid. Off the Grid, n.d. Web. 13 Sep 2011. <http://gvshp.org/blog/2011/08/08/tracking-history-gansevoort-plaza-then-now/>.
6. “The Gansevoort Market: Private Property Which Must Be Obtained to Enlarge It.” New York Times 29 Jul 1880. 8. Proquest. Web. 3 Oct 2011.
7. “Money for Gansevoort Market.” New York Times 12 Nov 1884. 8.Proquest. Web. 3 Oct 2011.
8. “Gansevoort Market.” New York Times 9 Jan 1927. XX2. Proquest. Web. 3 Oct 2011.
9. Amsden, David. “The 25th Hour of Florent Morellet.” New York Restraunts. 05 May 2008: n. page. Web. 15 Oct. 2011. <http://nymag.com/restaurants/features/47227/>.
10. New York City, New York. New York City . New York City Map . New York: , Print.
11. Levin, Gail. Lee Krasner: A Biography. First. New York : Harper-Collins Publishers, Print.
12. Sigal, David, Dir. Florent Diner: Queen of the Meat Market. Dir. David Sigal. 2010. Film.
13. Corbould, Clare “STREETS, SOUNDS AND IDENTITY IN INTERWAR HARLEM”.
14. Galloway, Anne “Intimations of Everyday Life: Ubiquitous computing and the city”