Michael Sporn Animation – Splog

New York has had another snow storm. Oh not as bad as Boston has received, but bad enough. To tell the truth, I didn’t want to include pictures of snow in this week’s post, but what the hell. How do you avoid it? However, I do think one snow storm isn’t too different from others, and since I have one from the past from which I really like Steve Fisher’s photographs, I decided to repost those images. So here they are – the ice storm February 2011.

Here they are, NY in a different light.

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These first two pics were the ones I shot at 6am
but wasn’t crazy about.

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The rest of these are by Steve Fisher.
They’re all color shots.

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- It’s a couple of days later. The weather has gotten a bit warmer by Saturday, and another smaller snow dusting is expected. I decided to walk to the studio at 6:30am and figure out how to use my camera-phone thing. I’ve had it for two months and haven’t really figured out the machine. So here are some pictures. Note that a light hail was falling throughout the two mile trek.

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First off I walk through Madison Square Park.
I haven’t been here since Christmas, the first big snowfall.
I mistakenly had left the B&W feature setting on the camera.

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This tree looks to be dead. They’ve cut off a lot of it.
(See the logs on the ground.) Masses of squirrels are
climbing into the hole at the top of it.

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This is that light “Art-piece” I featured last year.
The lights (you have to look for them) aren’t on,
and the piece is silent.

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Then I walk down Fifth Ave. to Washington Square Park in the Village.
Some homeless person left their bin parked near a bike stand just
outside of the 23rd St. subway entrance. I guess they’re keeping warm.

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I almost forgot why I’d shot this photo.
If you look closely you’ll see that the entire building is
“For Rent”. I guess they gave up on the idea of selling it.

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Are these Christmas tree lights, still hung?
They look nice (in person) under this construction tunnel.

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The First Presbeterian Church on 13th Street and Fifth Ave.
I’ve realized I’d been shooting in B&W.
This is the first pic in color.

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Here’s the Arch at Washington Square Park , shot from 8th Street and Fifth Ave.

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Here’s a closer shot.

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This is Judson Memorial Church near NYU shot from within the park.

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A sort-of famous restaurant a couple of blocks from the studio.
All they serve is PB&J hundreds of ways. I haven’t been in there.
I keep PB and Jelly in the studio and my home; I love it.

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I turn West on Bleecker to Downing which leads me to Bedford.
“Hey ma, I can see our house from here!”
Finally, I reach the studio. The hail’s getting heavier.

Steve Fisher sent me a reworking of West Side Story. Like the Broadway show, this photo essay doesn’t need words to let you know what’s going on. All I know is I can’t let my two boys see these pictures, or they’ll be furious.

Onto the pics:

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Many thanks to Steve.

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- For years Heidi and I would go to Central Park to watch the runners do their mini jog; there’d be fireworks following it. We haven’t been there in a while, so we went last night. Boy has it gotten bigger. We saw a lot of runners but didn’t see the race. I guess we weren’t even in the area where the race took place.

I took some photos.

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We used to enter the park at Tavern on the Green.
But now that beautiful site of a restaurant has turned
into some boarded up unattractive thing. It’s sad.

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We walk in complete darkness tring to find out where we’re going.
That’s Heidi walking just ahead of me.

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Following the lights we started seeing some people.

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The crowds were deeper into the park, and the trip was longer.

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We had to go as far as the bandshell where some hip-hop
loud music and a light show was taking place.

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Some of those in the audience were trying to dance to
the music which had no real rhythm to it. Just loud.

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The crowds started thronging and Heidi and I pulled back a bit.
We headed for a different area.

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That’s Heidi posing for a picture, but you
can’t really make her out very well.

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So I went in for a tighter picture.
It was a bit better.

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We moved over to a statue. I couldn’t make out what it was.
When I got closer, I realized it was just a mass of eagles.

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The fireworks couldn’t have started a moment too soon.

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The fireworks display here is always close so it feels big, yet
small enough not to be overwhelming in a Macy’s kind way.

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This was the cue to leave before the masses caught on that it was ending.

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Once they caught on, we’d be bombarded with people. Didn’t want that.

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Lots of people had settled outside the park to watch the fireworks.
Actually it wasn’t a bad place to watch the show.

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Some other people sitting waiting for the subway had their
213 tiaras in hand. These things have gotten pretty sophisticated.

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We had a good time and went home to a nice little spread
that Heidi had bought and set up for us. We ate shrimp and
chèvre and pâté by candlelight. A nice start to a new year.

Happy 2013, Everybody

- Steve Fisher is much more energetic than I during this holiday break. (Actually, I don’t really have a holiday although I am doing a lot of different things with a very different pace. My break is really more a mental one.) Consequently, he took a lot of interesting photos in search of Christmas decorations in New York’s higher rent district. Thus sayeth Steve:

Yesterday, I finally had a chance to take advantage of a sunny, dry day [between storms] to look for Christmas decorations on landmark buildings. I decided to follow two guided walking tours of the Upper East Side – the Henderson and Treadwell Districts. The Henderson District, at the East Side Drive between 86th and 87th Streets had several decorations, but the Treadwell District, on 61st and 62nd Streets between Second and Third Avenues, less so.

Here is the first bunch – of the Henderson District. I’ll follow up shortly with other bunches.

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The following were taken in the Treadwell Historic District, on 61st and 62nd Streets between Second and Third Avenues [along with the first several taken along the walk from the Henderson district].

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Even though this building is in the Treadwell Historic District,
I made a separate bunch of snaps for it.

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Trinity Baptist church

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At this point, Steve took the Tram to Roosevelt Island to visit the FDR Memorial. This trip will show up on the blog next Sunday.

- Steve Fisher captured some beautiful imagery of twilight hour. The cold crisp air is almost visible in these shots of a subtly decorated New York City. You can almost look forward to that first cocktail of the evening as an exhausted city tries to quiet itself down. As Steve writes:

Yesterday, a fast-moving rain shower produced some quickly varying lighting. Here are thirteen snaps I took in a twenty minute period.

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- Friend Steve Fisher continues about town with some ver interesting photos.
For the bulk of the photos he had joined the Landmarks Conservancy’s tour of the Hearst Building at 57th Street and Eighth Avenue yesterday, Dec. 13th.

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Six-story restored base façade of
the original building was designed
by Max Urban in the 1920s.

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The tower was designed by Norman Foster

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Art work installation on wall designed by muralist Ben Long.

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Water sculpture installation designed by Jamie Carpenter.

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Test laboratories for Good Housekeeping on 29th Floor.

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Views from the 29th floor of the Hearst Bldg

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At the MTA Transit Museum in Grand Central Terminal
Steve found a model train of the very terminal
where the train set was standing.

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Steve writes: “You may ask why I took this photo.”
“If you thought it was because of the style of the shoe,
that’s only half of it.”

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“Check out the right foot.”

- Way back when, I did a couple of photo posts where I snapped some pictures of things that floated around me in my studio. Things I loved because they were around me, or maybe things that were around me because I loved them. I’m not sure which was which – the chicken or the egg. (See here and here.)

Well, as I once wrote, I’m currently working out of my home for the moment with my studio space in storage. Now, I’ve got a whole bunch of different things around me. These aren’t so obviously animation inclined, but I still love them. So let me give a show-and-tell around this room in the apartment.

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This is an etching that Heidi bought me for a birthday or some
other gift-giving-event. It’s a tiny picture of a bull which is
framed and positioned over Heidi’s computer in the living room.

I like this little guy.

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Heidi found this framed and dusty collection of buttons framed and
sitting inside the window of some garment-district store. I guess the
idea was supposed to be the display of the plastic buttons. It sits
hidden in the corner of the living room. I like it a l lot.

When we mixed our three cats together, Robbie, Alexander and Lola, it was
inevitable that they, all three, wouldn’t get along together. Robbie and Alex
are fighting friends (boys); Alex and Lola get along (boy and girl) ; but all 3
together don’t make it. Lola’s claimed the bedroom for herself, and if Robbie
even tries, horrendous cat cawls emerge from the bedroom. Of course, all
Robbie wants to do is get into that bedroom and start the wail we hear.

So a rope ties the bedroom door to a hall closet keeping the entrance impossible
for Robbie. The rope started out as a bathrobe belt, got some silk ribbons added
when that broke; and finally some twine extended it to the second door.
Whatever, it works.

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Ah, for the good old days of baby Claudie. I loved that guy.
He died in my arms on a final visit to the vet. He knew how
to do things, that boy. I loved him for 20 years.
His picture is over the piano in the living room.

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I’m sure you’ll remember that I’m a puppet guy.
This Indonesian rod puppet sits atop the no-longer-in-use
record changer. Both like to gather dust, and Heidi attacks
the dust weekly week or there abouts depending on the weather.

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This trick bank is no doubt an iron reproduction, but
it’s still great just as it is. Put 5 cents in the dog’s
mouth, and he jumps through the clown’s hoop to
deposit the nickel into the barrel.

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This replacement board came from the Winter Garden Theater.
When an actor doesn’t make it for a show, the board announces
the names of any replacements that’ll be going on. Heidi’s name
appeared here many times as she sat out the end of Cats.
When Cats closed and Mama Mia opened they got new boards backstage.

Lots of junk – such as 3D glasses – have replaced the sliding names
(which Heidi also has in the back. They don’t make the item any more
exciting.)

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Pinocchio is something of an antique. The puppet sold in 1939
when the Disney film was released. It’s made of a wooden mulch.
Sort of a mix of sawdust combined with glue; he looks just like
the real thing. Behind Pinocchio is a picture drawn by a childhood
friend of Heidi’s.

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Finally there’s the metal kitchen cabinets. Magnets hold a lot of
pictures in place. God help us if there’s to be an East Coast
earthquake. Lots of magnets mixed with images would wind up
in the sink.

- For Thanksgiving, Heidi and I drove to my brother John’s house in Connecticut where we were joined by his family as well my sister Christine and her family. It was a pleasant day. Since I don’t own a car in Manhattan – the garage costs are more expensive than the car – I rented one. Picking it up on Wednesday meant I had to return it Friday and pay for two days, instead of the one I really needed it for.

So we had a car on Friday. I suggested that Heidi and I go to the Bronx Zoo something we hadn’t done since the early days. You have to understand something, this is a big deal for me. Emotionally. My first job, at the age of 11, was working in the Zoo. I was a busboy during the summer. I wiped painted steel tables clean and cleaned the grounds while the crowds bubbled their way on through. Within a year or two I graduated to the hamburger guy and then quickly from that to the Head cashier. The top guy. I worked there part time until I went into the Navy, ten years later.

A lot of memories happened in those ten years, and seeing how the Park has changed has always been a surprise and a strong interest of mine. The Zoo was a good ten miles from my home in the Bronx, so either I had to pay for the two buses which would get me there or take my bicycle. It was usually a combination of the two depending on the weather, my financial situation, or my mood. The bike ride was a good one, easy and direct. The bus was complicated and took longer than the bike.

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The Bronx River met us at the parking lot
at the eastern entrance of the zoo.

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The river ran a block away from my home
when I was a child. We called it the creek because
that’s what it was at that far point of the Bronx.
It was also a great wooded park to play in.

As a busboy I had a few standout memories that still make me smile.
Kevin was another busboy and a friend. He came from Goshen, NY (somewhere upstate) but spoke as though he’d come from the deep midwest with a heavily twangy accent. In some ways, he wasn’t the smartest guy in the world, but he was a lot of fun. In other ways, he was sharp as a whistle.

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The first pavilion we came upon was the bird house.
This is a relatively new exhibit – about ten years old.

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Plenty of room for birds to move about in the simulated wild.

The two of us had found maraschino cherries in the kitchen and would often, during slow moments, dip our hands into the large jar of Red Dye #3 to grab a handful of the tasty, sweet, candied cherries which would go atop sundaes (they were made in the Zoo, back then, but are now prepackaged.) Within a short while Jonas, our manager, caught on to our cherry picking, and he suggested we not take any more. It had been getting a bit over the top.

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Not all of the animals in this exhibit are birds.

However, there was the one time a couple of days later when I came out of the kitchen to find Kevin with a big smile on his face. He asked if I wanted a maraschino cherry. With that, he picked one out of his white busboy jacket pocket to share with me. After eating it, I couldn’t help but to burst into laughter.

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One thing I have to say is that the birds ARE colorful.

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Even ordinary ducks can look exotic
in a rainforest setting.

Kevin’s starched white busboy jacket had a big, wet, red stain on the pocket. Kevin hadn’t counted on his thievery being so obvious. That’s when the sly and understated Jonas was standing between me and Kev, talking first about the weather, then about the crowds and finally about the table umbrellas. As he left us standing there, he suggested that Kevin get himself another busboy uniform. One that was clean.
I screamed laughing; Jonas kept walking with that wry smile, and Kevin was almost as red as the stain on his jacket.

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Birds were hidden everywhere in plain sight.

Harvey was the dishwasher. He was more than a little slow; he was marginally retarded, big and strong. Definitely slow on the uptake. Right out of central casting. He knew I was a big fan of soundtrack albums (at the age of 12). He was excited, one day, to tell me he’d bought the soundtrack to “Around the World in 80 Days” – this was back in the 60s.

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Harvey loved the film so he bought the record as a souvenir. Unfortunately, for him it was just Victor Young’s music for the film. It took about half a day to realize he wanted to get rid of it and couldn’t bring himself to ask me if I wanted to trade something for it.

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My older sister, Pat, had been a member of the “Columbia Record Club”. This was a scam operation where Columbia Records would send you albums and if you didn’t send them back right away, you owned them and would be billed – at a high rate – for the record. Pat ended up owning a lot of records she never listened to.

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There was a relatively new Lanie Kazan album that she didn’t like and didn’t listen to. I offered this as the record of exchange to Harvey for his copy of “Around the World” – a film I hadn’t seen and didn’t really know. I did know Victor Young’s music. (He’d done the background score for “Samson and Delilah”, “The Road to Zanzibar”, or “The Court Jester”.) I thought this would be a good deal if I could pull it off, and I did.

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Wild turkey for Thanksgiving?

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Harvey ended up loving that early Lanie Kazan album and played the copy he’d made on audio tape, over and over in the kitchen. I, on the other hand, enjoyed owning the Victor Young soundtrack, even though I didn’t listen to it very often. I still own it. When I hired Lanie Kazan to do a voice over and a song for me in one of my half-hour shows, I didn’t tell her this story; I wasn’t sure if she’d see it as a compliment.

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“Tiger Mountain” had other animals besides Tigers.
In fact, the mountain was little more than a hill
where some deer-type creatures roamed.

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I was interested in the one male who was trying
to clear the brush from his young antlers.

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Of course there was the one tiger who paced back and forth
endlessly as if it were in a cage.

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Back and forth for the entire time I was there.

On work days I’d get in early enough and finish my prep for the day a bit before the cafeteria opened. Often I’d get about a half hour having coffee, reading the newspapers at the outdoor steel tables. Zoo personnel would usually come by and have their morning coffee and you could chat with them. I was pretty friendly with a lot of these guys.

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There was one guy who used to take a tiger on a leash. These were years before they had “Tiger Mountain” with the animals living in a more natural environment. Back then, there was a Tiger house, where the tigers would live caged within the confines of the space provided. The young tiger on the leash was only three months old and would be taken on a daily stroll to give it some exercise. Since I knew the keeper and saw him daily, I got to know the tiger (which I think was named, “Natasha.”)

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Slowly I got to watch Natasha grow up and was able to play with her a bit during that half hour coffee break. By the time she was six months old, she was almost fully grown and the walks were coming to an end.

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The Administration Building featured a couple of Rhinos.
This was once the Elephant Building where Rhinos, hippos,
and Elephants roamed.

Every day I had to go to the Zoo’s administration building to have my “bank” for the day doled out – the money I’d use to operate the cash register. It was a ten minute walk from cafeteria to administration building. On one day I’d been half asleep when I turned into the building. “Natasha” on a leash was just coming out. I found myself on the ground underneath a fully grown tiger playing with me. Her keeper was nervous, afraid that I’d report an incident. Of course, not. I’d just had a great moment; one that I remember pretty vividly to this day. No wonder I liked Pi.

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There was a carousel with bugs to ride instead of horses.

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This was included in the price of admission,
so we rode.

Bees were a problem in the outdoor, summer cafeteria. People ran from the place rather than get stung. To counter this we did something simple. We filled a soup bowl with what was called “simple syrup”. We’d save packets of sugar that customers left behind and mix that sugar with some warm water. A heavy molasses-like texture in a bowl was left center table at two or three spots, a bit off the main crowds. The bees would come to drink, overdo it and drown in the syrup.

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At the end of the day the customers wouldn’t have noticed the bees, so felt safer. However, you had a bowl (or bowls) full of dead bees that someone had to remove. I was usually that person. I wasn’t afraid of the bees and had no problem dumping them. It also bought me a lighter half hour at the end of the day when we had to clean fast and furiously to be able to go home. I never did get stung.

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Heidi enjoyed it, though I was a bit offset by the music
which was calliope music not synched to the ride.

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Later, we went to the Baboon area (I forget what they
actually called the pavilion.)

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There was a hairy baboon who stayed in one small spot.
He was a handsome fellow and was primarily concerned with himself.

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Back in the olde days, there were always things happening in the zoo. I remember, at one point, the Pygmy Hippo gave birth to two cubs. There was a wild scream early one morning, and people rushed to the cage, just across the street from our cafeteria. Apparently the depressed hippo mother turned on one of her cubs and began to eat the baby.

The keeper was eventually able to separate the mother pygmy hippo from her second so that both cubs wouldn’t be killed. The mother was, in time, reunited with her last living cub. Apparently, she’d had some type of postpartum depression and it was sad for the killed cub.

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Alongside the baboons, the zoo had what looked like
a couple of capyboppys on display.

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These look like three foot long rodent/guinea pig type creatures.

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Outside the baboon exhibit there was a series of skulls
relating humans to the creatures on display.

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Always information of some type is offered visitors.

I had many memories and many stories, and it helps to explain my fascination, still, with Zoos. I tend to seek zoos out when I visit other countries. The Paris Zoo is so different from the London Zoo, but both retain unique feelings. Amsterdam and Yokohama are very different from the San Diego zoo which is almost too large. Manhattan’s Central Park Zoo is similarly very different from the Bronx Zoo. And the Bronx Zoo has changed so drastically that I almost don’t recognize it anymore.

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A group of goats, of some breed, mix with
the baboons in that same quiet area.

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The two separate on their own, naturally.

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The Terrace Cafe is almost identical to what it once was. Not much has changed. The same window slots to serve the customers and it had a similar placement of tables. This cafeteria wasn’t open, it being November; they’ve gone onto their Winter schedule.

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A number of ostrich preened themselves
at the giraffe enclosure.

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The giraffe were somewhat active moving about
looking as though they were seeking food.

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Since there was little foliage in the trees
the giraffe had to bend down (always awkwardly) to eat.

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My one bit of anxiety was that I might have run into Jonas Schweitzer, my old boss. I know that’s ridiculous. As a matter of fact, I would’ve enjoyed meeting up with him. He shifted to Administration after I’d left, and has certainly retired. But there was still the memory of him asking Kevin to change his busboy jacket so the bright red spot could be contained.

Some things never change, I guess.

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The African Plain was our last stop.

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It actually was a little hill with one male
and one female lion. He was over it and
was hiding, for the most part.

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She just lay still.

- Tom Hachtman, who you may remember is the friend who does Gertrude’s Follies and sometimes contributes to this Splog, (see this post about that) and his wife, Joey Hachtman, who you’ll remember has a business painting murals on the big houses at the Jersey Shore. (See this post as an example.) That’s where they live, in a house at the Jersey Shore. Point Pleasant is just a little bit of paradise with one of the rowdiest boardwalks at the shore. It’s a fun place, at least when the weather’s warm enough.

Well, Tom took some pictures. Sandy visited the shore a few weeks back, and things have been a bit different. They still don’t have heat or electric. So here’s the first of some photos of their back yard.

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Some of the boardwalk on Atlantic Avenue.

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A bench from the boardwalk.

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Boardwalk booth.

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Copters all day long.

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Our house with the peak – looking west on Forman Avenue.

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Our street, after Sandy, looking West.

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White fence shows high water mark.

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No parking today.
A parking pay station.

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Northern NJ clean-up crew – did the basement.

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Seton Hall’s Sigma Pi boys – cleaned out the garage.
(They found a possum playing dead convincingly.)

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Soggy collectibles.

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Myrna and Joey on the porch.

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No mini-golf today

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Kitty and Olive stop by visiting Joey (right)

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Debris in Rick’s driveway.

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Our house after some housecleaning.

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Across the street – high water mark on white fence.

And of course, turning to stored artwork that the family did over the many years, things weren’t so good.

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Here’s Tom going through some of the debris
to find anything that can be saved.

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Here are some of the comics that Joey had done cartoons for.
It’s doubtful that the issues can be replaced.

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More of those comics. Do you hold onto them?

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Here are some of the many cartoons she did for Screw Magazine.
Gone.

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A cover for New York Magazine
that Tom had saved.
It was done by Bob Grossman a few years ago.

- Baseball took a back seat this year for my absolute love of the political game that took place this year. Chris Matthews, Rachel Maddow, Martin Bashir and Lawrence O’Donnell became household names in our little enclave in Manhattan. Yes, I was addicted to the Presidential race, and I knew I would be.

A couple of years ago, something earth shattering happened to me. My way was to immediately deflect the problem and state something unexpected. I said I wanted to see Obama reelected. The last time out – that Clinton fight to the finish which Obama won followed by the poor campaign McCain ran – nicely eased the first black President into office. I also have to admit I’ve loved Obama all four years. Yeah. there were plenty of problems where I had to grimace, but by and large he’s been one of my favorite Presidents in my lifetime. The big problem I see is that he doesn’t promote all the good things he’s gotten through the Congress, (Take a look at this site if you want to challenge me on that one) and opposition can easily take advantage of that.

The election will end this Tuesday, after the number counting. I’ll miss it.

The earth shattering problem, by the way, took care of itself, as I knew it would.
Steve Fisher took these photos.

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