The Q's always been suspicious about Landmarking for some reason. Why that, he asks, but not this? Why yours, not mine? Some things seem obvious. The Taj Mahal shouldn't get torn down, or the Pyramids. Maybe best to hang onto the White House and Mt. Rushmore. I guess the whole 7 Wonders thing and World Heritage Sites are sort of the world's landmarking system. Some things just shouldn't be susceptible to the vagaries of the free market, I guess. Closer to home, the old Penn Station shouldn't have come down. So I hear. That was the demolition heard round the world, and set in motion the effort to preserve our cherished icons. Let's keep the Met, and the Empire State Building, as long as they're inhabitable anyway. The Brooklyn Bridge. Central Park. Greenwood Cemetery (actually, that's still not landmarked...but soon).
But when it comes to individual neighborhoods or buildings, privately owned and occupied, a lot of it comes down to the petitioners hard work and perseverance. And taste. It was never a lock that brownstone neighborhoods would stand the test of time and deserve their own historic status. They were, after all, houses like any others. And yet they became iconic. I'd argue that Sesame Street had a lot to do with it; plus the tantalizing veneer of sandstone and all the nifty shapes that could easily be carved into it. A lot of people don't know that these houses are made of brick. I didn't til I moved into one 13 years ago and saw some of the stuff falling off the walls. I assumed, not being a builder myself, that the whole house was made of the soft stuff. Except for the super high-end homes in the toniest neighborhoods, brownstones and limestones are brick row houses with what could arguably be called the vinyl siding of its day. Some people hated them, especially when they were grouped in tens and twenties. It's not that they're not nice - of course they are, that's why they're so damn costly. But in the case of brownstone neighborhoods, there is a certain Victorian allure that doesn't really gibe with reality. Read Osman's "The Invention of Brownstone Brooklyn" if you're on the fence. It's like we want to believe there was a gloried past devoid of greedy developers and displacement, when the middle class lived easily and comfortably in a rarefied world and passed each other to the tip of a hat and eloquent repartee. Phrases like "the Manor" or "the Heights" or "the Slope" suggest an air of flippant superiority, and it's all very well and good and cute and harmless. After all, we must have a roof over our heads and it might as well be a "historic" roof. Plus, some have grown mighty rich investing in these cookie-cutter houses.
But what makes a grouping of homes, or of blocks, historic enough and elegant enough to be "designated" a landmark? The Prospect-Lefferts Gardens Historic District is a terrific example of neighbors identifying the singular beauty of their neighborhood and petitioning the City for the right to remain "as is." You can't designate the whole City of course...there'd be no room for growth or renewal and frankly the City wouldn't be the City if it were a museum. But keeping parts of the City off-limits to the whims of commerce means you can walk through history even as you revel in its constant reinvention. It's modernity, but with a side of old comfort.
At this moment in our neighborhood's history one wonders what will become of the non-landmarked areas. My block, for one, is a Neo-Victorian Shitshow. How's yours? Recent landmark successes like "Chester Court" and the group of townhouses along Prospect Park called "Ocean on the Park" give a clue to what might win over the good folks at Landmarks Preservation Commission. Check out that link. Lots of cool places have been landmarked through the years, and the City should be grateful for the work of the individuals on the ground who get the process rolling and then persevere. Are you one of those sorts who's ready to roll up her sleeves and get busy? You'll need patience and great organizational talents to herd your neighbors into a common cause. Unless of course you're planning to landmark just one building, like say the little Pentecostal church on the north side of Clarkson I (that is, Clarkson btw Flatbush to Bedford). I have absolutely no idea what about it is landmark-able, but what's the harm in trying? I'm planning on submitting an application just for giggles.
As anyone within buckshot will tell you, the Q's been trying to get folks to rezone the neighborhood so we can protect the lowrise character of the inner blocks and focus new residential development on the avenues - Nostrand, Flatbush, Empire etc. Made tons of sense to me, rather than the herky-jerky stop-start tear-down attitude currently all the rage. The City was warm to the idea and willing to make concessions in order to build responsibly where possible. And look at infrastructure and schools and...but no matter. Cabia Doily (it's an awkward anagram) saw to it that no such conversation happened in time to preserve the inner blocks. Heck by now we could have limited height and demanded a certain amount of affordability towards the neighborhood's future. But sigh. What's left? Landmarking. And a prayer.
Come out Thursday night and hear all about it. If you have a dream to make sure your neighbors can't sell out to a tall skinny middle finger apartment building, here's the way it's done.
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But when it comes to individual neighborhoods or buildings, privately owned and occupied, a lot of it comes down to the petitioners hard work and perseverance. And taste. It was never a lock that brownstone neighborhoods would stand the test of time and deserve their own historic status. They were, after all, houses like any others. And yet they became iconic. I'd argue that Sesame Street had a lot to do with it; plus the tantalizing veneer of sandstone and all the nifty shapes that could easily be carved into it. A lot of people don't know that these houses are made of brick. I didn't til I moved into one 13 years ago and saw some of the stuff falling off the walls. I assumed, not being a builder myself, that the whole house was made of the soft stuff. Except for the super high-end homes in the toniest neighborhoods, brownstones and limestones are brick row houses with what could arguably be called the vinyl siding of its day. Some people hated them, especially when they were grouped in tens and twenties. It's not that they're not nice - of course they are, that's why they're so damn costly. But in the case of brownstone neighborhoods, there is a certain Victorian allure that doesn't really gibe with reality. Read Osman's "The Invention of Brownstone Brooklyn" if you're on the fence. It's like we want to believe there was a gloried past devoid of greedy developers and displacement, when the middle class lived easily and comfortably in a rarefied world and passed each other to the tip of a hat and eloquent repartee. Phrases like "the Manor" or "the Heights" or "the Slope" suggest an air of flippant superiority, and it's all very well and good and cute and harmless. After all, we must have a roof over our heads and it might as well be a "historic" roof. Plus, some have grown mighty rich investing in these cookie-cutter houses.
But what makes a grouping of homes, or of blocks, historic enough and elegant enough to be "designated" a landmark? The Prospect-Lefferts Gardens Historic District is a terrific example of neighbors identifying the singular beauty of their neighborhood and petitioning the City for the right to remain "as is." You can't designate the whole City of course...there'd be no room for growth or renewal and frankly the City wouldn't be the City if it were a museum. But keeping parts of the City off-limits to the whims of commerce means you can walk through history even as you revel in its constant reinvention. It's modernity, but with a side of old comfort.
At this moment in our neighborhood's history one wonders what will become of the non-landmarked areas. My block, for one, is a Neo-Victorian Shitshow. How's yours? Recent landmark successes like "Chester Court" and the group of townhouses along Prospect Park called "Ocean on the Park" give a clue to what might win over the good folks at Landmarks Preservation Commission. Check out that link. Lots of cool places have been landmarked through the years, and the City should be grateful for the work of the individuals on the ground who get the process rolling and then persevere. Are you one of those sorts who's ready to roll up her sleeves and get busy? You'll need patience and great organizational talents to herd your neighbors into a common cause. Unless of course you're planning to landmark just one building, like say the little Pentecostal church on the north side of Clarkson I (that is, Clarkson btw Flatbush to Bedford). I have absolutely no idea what about it is landmark-able, but what's the harm in trying? I'm planning on submitting an application just for giggles.
As anyone within buckshot will tell you, the Q's been trying to get folks to rezone the neighborhood so we can protect the lowrise character of the inner blocks and focus new residential development on the avenues - Nostrand, Flatbush, Empire etc. Made tons of sense to me, rather than the herky-jerky stop-start tear-down attitude currently all the rage. The City was warm to the idea and willing to make concessions in order to build responsibly where possible. And look at infrastructure and schools and...but no matter. Cabia Doily (it's an awkward anagram) saw to it that no such conversation happened in time to preserve the inner blocks. Heck by now we could have limited height and demanded a certain amount of affordability towards the neighborhood's future. But sigh. What's left? Landmarking. And a prayer.
Come out Thursday night and hear all about it. If you have a dream to make sure your neighbors can't sell out to a tall skinny middle finger apartment building, here's the way it's done.
