ILLUSTRATIONS#5

TITLE
CONTENTS

ABSTRACT
EPIGRAPH
INTRODUCTION
METHOD
ILLUSTRATIONS

(1) Pleasures

(2) Opportunities

(7) Ambivalence
DISCUSSION
APPENDIX
REFERENCES

Write us.

ILLUSTRATIONS

(5) Distress

Autumn in New York ...

Is often mingled with pain.

-- Vernon Duke (1934), "Autumn In New York"

Unfortunately, as implied by the tone of the concluding quotation in the preceding section, for some informants the arousing but not necessarily unpleasant feelings of stress just described can sometimes proceed to the level of distress. In other words, the hectic pace and pressing crowds can become overwhelming or otherwise debilitating. For our informants, the manner of expressing such distress ranged from whimsy to diatribe.

On the lighter side, for example, one informant crystallized his frustration with the City as a prolonged comic attack on his own personal nemesis -- namely, the necessity of paying obeisance to the oppressive force of the ubiquitous parking meter (PHOTO 5A):

Parking meters. Parking spaces. Parking hassles. New York to me is a winding, snarled, crowded, exhaust-covered highway where cars don't move leading to dozens upon hundreds upon thousands upon millions of full parking spaces. (Never empty!).

One exception -- the "no parking" rules. "No parking 8-11 AM, Mon., Wed., Fri." "No parking 3:12-4:18 PM, Alternate Tuesdays." "No parking During Full Moon." On Broadway, near Columbia University's campus, there's no parking between 8 and 9 AM any weekday. This means, of course, that you arrive and stake your claim on the spot at 8:05 AM, and then you wait with your car until 9! You read your book and you smile and wave at the traffic cop as he passes by your car (since you're there) and tickets the guy parked in front of you (since he left). Then, at 9 you're free to go. Once you feed your quarters into the meter, that is. Oh, and don't forget to come back in a couple of hours to put more money in, or you may find that your buddy the cop has left you a little present on your windshield.

This is what New York means to me. Get me out!

Meanwhile, on a more earnest note, several informants focused on various aspects of the City's filth, pollution, and thriving population of household pests. In this connection, with only a slight touch of nostalgia, one informant recalled her first apartment primarily as a noisy, wild, and infamous locus for bugs and mice emanating from the delicatessen downstairs (PHOTO 5B):

The shot I took is of my first apartment in New York on East 9th Street and Second Avenue, which I am sure is still complete with its share of bugs and mice. I can recall a constant battle with those little "pets" as a result of the deli downstairs. And although I have lived on the Upper West Side for the past five years, my "Idea of New York" is this noisy corner, one block from the wild and infamous St. Mark's Place.

Pursuing the same theme, no fewer than three informants dwelled at length on the subject of their profound distaste for pigeons. Most charitably, the first of these -- who captured his photo of an entire flock with a few birds in flight by asking a companion to stand a few yards away and to throw down some bread crumbs -- saw the pigeon as a ubiquitous symbol of the New Yorker's fight for survival (PHOTO 5C):

"For the Birds!" Pigeons, that is. They are everywhere in New York, and in many ways they are symbols of the contradictions that make NY tick. A resilient animal by nature, pigeons have adapted to survive in the most urban area on earth. Similarly, New Yorkers must summon all of their resilience to live in a city that offers so much but demands as much in return. They may not be the official symbol of NY, but I contend that the pigeon that resides on your window sill may be a microcosm of all that happens in NY every day.

Another informant, previously mentioned in the context of the pleasures associated with New York's theater district, refers to the pigeon motif in passing, almost as a taken-for-granted afterthought reflecting the downside of the New York Experience and clearly visible in her stereograph shown earlier (PHOTO 2D):

Another aspect of New York I found somewhat daunting was (is) the prevalence of pigeons. They were everywhere. These pigeons seemed to have a New York attitude -- totally devoted to their own agenda. I had never seen so many pigeons in my life! It seems perfectly appropriate to me that an uncaring pigeon would be perched atop Father Duffy.... when all is said and done, one can end up in bronze with a pigeon on one's head!

Even more tellingly, one irate informant conveyed his disgust for the burgeoning pigeon problem in the following dramatic diatribe accompanied by an in-depth stereograph of a lone pigeon cornered near the wall of a building and, one might think, in fear for its life (PHOTO 5D):

I spent my early ages of youth growing up in Connecticut and remember coming to the "Big City" to visit my father's office or see a Knick's game at the Garden. I remember the city being exciting with surprises around every corner. Today, I have returned to New York after spending roughly ten years in the South. Today I see the city as crowded and dirty with pigeons or "flying rats" around every corner. The pigeons are often overwhelming and seem completely unafraid or intimidated by the people that walk on "their" streets. When I wake in the morning, I hear pigeons cooing on the ledge outside my window. I cross them numerous times on my short three block walk to school. Eating lunch outside, the pigeons walk over my feet waiting to see what I am going to share (which is nothing if I can help it). Pigeons are everywhere in this city and they do not seem to be in a hurry to move somewhere else. I would be willing to bet that pigeons outnumber people in this city. So when people ask me how I like New York, I tell them it is okay if you can stand the pigeons. What we need here are more hawks!