Features

On a sunny 81 degree Saturday, inside a windowless room in a new 31 story glass and steel tower, historic preservationists wrestled with a key question: how can they use preservation to advance affordable housing? Given our “build, baby, build” moment that question might seem out-of-touch or cringey, but the March 29th conference at New […]

Guests entering indie bookstore, art gallery, and streetwear shop Village Works might notice they’re asked to do something they never have to do in another store: refrain from taking photos. “95% of all NYC bookstores have closed in the last 25 years. Please protect bookstores, the writers and artists they represent,” the sign reads. Employee

I went down to the Surrogate’s Courthouse on Chambers Street to check out an exhibit called New Visions of Old New York, which promised an interactive 3-D map of New Amsterdam. Spending a little time in the 17th century seemed like a great idea here in the 21st, which is feeling more and more like

The week after Trump’s inauguration my weird dreams started again. I dreamt I was at BMCC, the community college where I used to teach. I was sitting in a room with other faculty getting ready to grade entrance exams. Suddenly this woman got up and sat down at a piano in the corner and started

A few years ago, I arrived early for my middle school reunion at a bar, thinking it would be fun to sip a few vodka sodas and read The Idiot before socializing. Turns out, I was the idiot to not recognize how much I’d imbibe while distracted by Prince Myshkin’s tale. Drinking and reading are

Each year, I meticulously keep track of every book I read, writing a short blurb to capture my primary feelings and responses to each book. I do this for many reasons, but mostly because my short term memory is so faulty. I also do this so I have recommendations at the ready when asked the

There is a short story written in 1841 by Edgar Allen Poe called “A Descent into the Maelstrom.” It tells the tale of a mariner at sea caught in a giant whirlpool. IMHO we ourselves are currently spiraling downward in a similar predicament. Hard to say when this malevolent spin of events began. Was it

I have dedicated my life so far to the study of love and of romantic convention. For as long I can remember, I have been a romantic: first hopeless, then reckless, now erring on the side of pragmatic. I have made a fool of myself for love many times over, broken countless hearts (my own

One day last August my husband and I took a walk in Gansevoort Peninsula Park and came upon the exercise station. We’d been spending our evenings on the sofa in awe watching teeny, hipless, shimmering Olympic gymnasts launch themselves into space and twist and somersault up there, and leap onto bars several stories high and