“I have shoes to my feet this time”: May Swenson, New York City, and the FWP
By Margaret A. Brucia
Penniless and hungry, her clothes in tatters, May Swenson was an emergency case for the Workers Alliance (WAA) in March 1938. She was fed at St. Barnabas House on Mulberry Street (“Boy, that butterless bread, gravyless potatoes, hashed turnips & salt-less meatloaf tasted swell!”)[1] and then given fifteen dollars to buy new shoes and clothing at S. Klein’s at Union Square and E 14th Street. “Jesus!” was all she could write in her diary.
“Are these not my streets?”: May Swenson, New York City, and the Federal Writers Project
By Margaret A. Brucia
Drawn to New York by her exposure to Lost Generation authors and the work of Alfred Stieglitz and his circle of artists, May Swenson left the security of her loving Mormon family in Utah during the depths of the Great Depression. After struggling to hold a series of low-paying positions, withering prospects for employment threatened her continued existence in New York. By a devious route, May joined the ranks of the Federal Writers Project, plunged into New York’s cauldron of creativity and went on to become a leader in the field of modern poetry.
Review: New York, New Music, 1980-1986, Museum of the City of New York
Reviewed by Jeffrey Escoffier
The Museum of the City of New York has opened an ongoing exhibition, New York, New Music, 1980-1986, covering the full range of new music from modernist avant-garde to rock — punk, new wave, no wave & noise — to salsa, hip hop, and pop. The exhibit not only commemorates the numerous musical pioneers and performers that thrived in New York during this period, celebrates the dozens of venues that provided stages for the musical performances, and shows the interaction between musicians, visual artists, designers, and cultural entrepreneurs, it also situates the music of 1980s New York in time and place.
Percy Loomis Sperr and the Total Photographic Documentation of New York City, 1924-45
By Susan Smith-Peter
Using crutches because of an early bout with meningitis, Percy Loomis Sperr managed to photograph nearly all of New York City from the 1920s to the 1940s. Sperr sought to document and preserve the city as fully as possible. He was interested in telling the story of New York through the lives and environments of everyday people. This work brought him into contact with important photographers such as Berenice Abbott and, to a lesser extent, Walker Evans. And his work has deeply shaped our vision of this New York City during the Jazz Age and Depression era.
The Journalism of Style: How New York’s Fashion Editors Set The Stage For Fashion Reporting
By Kimberly Wilmot Voss
New York City’s deep fashion history created the foundation for the American fashion industry, though often missing from that story is the influence of newspaper fashion editors. Within the first few decades of the 20th century, these editors began to forge important shifts on how the fashion industry was reported on and who got to do that very reporting. For example, in the 1930s, when only fashion magazine reporters and store buyers were permitted in fashion shows, Milwaukee Journal fashion editor Aileen Ryan elbowed her way into New York City shows by simply ignoring the rule.
James Rivington: Music Purveyor in Revolutionary New York
By Lance Boos
Printer and bookseller James Rivington arrived in New York in the autumn of 1760 with a hoard of books, pamphlets, sheet music, and instruments ready for sale. Rivington (the namesake of Rivington Street in lower Manhattan) went on to become a prominent figure in New York: he was a fervent Loyalist propagandist during the American Revolution, a spy for the Americans late in the war, and one of the first merchants in the American colonies to import and advertise a significant amount of music.
“Completion by Contrast”: Architecture and Sculpture in Postwar New York
By Donald Albrecht and Thomas Mellins
In the March 30, 1963 issue of the New Yorker, art critic and historian Calvin Tomkins profiled sculptor Richard Lippold, whom he described as “by all odds, the busiest artist now working predominantly in collaboration with architects.”
Alice Neel believed that “art is a form of history.” Born in 1900, she claimed that “I represent the 20th century… I’ve tried to capture the zeitgeist.” Yet her painting bore no resemblance to the vast canvases of iconic scenes from the French revolution by Jacques-Louis David, Anne-Louis Girodot, or Theodore Gericault. Instead, she portrayed the history of the 20th century through individual people — neighbors, friends, artists, celebrities, and political activists — that she knew in New York City, a city which might be considered the capital of the 20th-century — the successor to Paris as “the capital of the 19th-century.”
Dead Rivers and Day’s End: Cruising and Preserving New York’s Queer Imaginaries
By Fiona Anderson
Whenever I’m in New York, I make a point of spending time looking at the wooden pilings that stand in the Hudson, remnants of the warehouses and piers that occupied the waterfront until the mid-1980s. Gathered together in intimate coalition, they jut up and out along the riverside like rugged swimmers leaping in to rescue a drowning comrade. They look both like placeholders for future construction and hardy traces of a long-lost culture, like a forgotten work by Robert Smithson or an American Pompeii. This area is the subject of my recent book Cruising the Dead River: David Wojnarowicz and New York’s Ruined Waterfront (University of Chicago Press, 2019),which looks at how and why this site hosted a vibrant cruising scene and art scene in the late 1970s and early 1980s.
