TWA Flight Center

Cold War paranoia aside, the future from the perspective of the late fifties was to be an optimistic place. A world of sleek, swooping contours and starlite neon, fishbowl helmets and jetpacks, lunar rovers, moving sidewalks, rocket-powered roller skates, and squelchy theremin-based pop tunes. Unfortunately, economics and politics have since forced us down a grimmer path to where our future likely has more in common with the charred bleakscapes of Blade Runner or Mad Max.

The TWA Flight Center, which opened in 1962 at the airport now called JFK, was the brainchild of Eero Saarinen, a Finnish-American architect who had designed not only the St Louis Gateway Arch, but also the iconic "tulip chair" as seen on the bridge of Star Trek's USS Enterprise. The Saarinen "Head House," as the main structure was called, was a prime example of what is considered Googie or Populuxe architecture, with its thin shell concrete roof, ceramic tiles, and curvilinear mezzanine. The sculptural contours were intended to suggest a soaring bird (though to me it looks more like a Cylon Raider). Predictably, it stirred up the ire of conservative critics of the era, while at the same time winning awards for its bold design. The terminal stayed in operation for four decades until TWA eventually hit the skids at century's end. Since then it has been shuttered to the public, largely, but not entirely, forgotten.

For a few hours on an autumnal Sunday, the good people of Open House New York arranged for the guard dogs to be chained up and the fence de-electrified. Charging down the red carpeted tube which connects the Flight Center to the functional area of the airport, I discovered an open realm of space age contours straight out of The Jetsons. I wasn't alone. The retrofuturist lobby swarmed with history buffs and photohounds, amateur and otherwise, eager to capture this rare sighting.

Technology has progressed at a dizzying pace since the Sixties. A list of devices and developments they couldn't possibly have conceived of then which we now take for granted could fill volumes. In small type with narrow margins. So why does it feel, when gazing around within a stunning time capsule such as this, that they knew something that we don't?

The Flight Center has been listed under the National Register of Historic Places, so fortunately it's not going anywhere soon (unlike the less fortunate UFO-shaped Pan Am Worldport, which lie in ruins as I AirTrained by). JetBlue, who now owns the building, is having it restored but isn't quite sure what to do with the space. Some suggestions bandied about include turning it into a conference center, aviation museum, or restaurant. I believe the current plan is to adapt it as part of a luxury hotel. Make it a tanning salon for all I care, just so long as they preserve this fleeting glimpse of The Tomorrow That Never Was.

Frankenstorm, 2012

Hurricane Sandy may have been reclassified as a "post-tropical cyclone," but that doesn't make the damage it caused any less. A record-high surge level of 13.88 feet was recorded in the Battery, beating the previous high of 11.2 feet set in 1821. Red Hook, Brooklyn and the tip of Manhattan were submerged. Cars were spotted floating down Wall Street. Blackouts were widespread, trees and power lines downed. Even the Statue of Liberty's torch was snuffed. Below is a roundup of some of the many staggering images captured during and after the storm.

[Click on photos for original source.]


The restored Jane’s Carousel in DUMBO, Brooklyn.


Crane collapses on 57th Street in midtown.


Avenue C in the East Village.


Lower Manhattan.


Ground Zero construction site.


Building facade collapse in Chelsea.


Floodwater rushing into PATH station in Hoboken, NJ.


Breezy Point fire.


Breezy Point.


Water tanker pulled onto Staten Island.


Tarmac at LaGuardia Airport.


Boat on Metro-North tracks in Ossining.


Rainbow over the Gowanus Canal.

In Which Amanda Palmer Plots a Heist (and Nearly Gets Away With It)

One thing I admire about Amanda Palmer is she's not content to throw a by-the-numbers concert. Not when she can stage an EVENT, one big pulsing carnival of joy. Rarely have I been to a concert that feels as all-inclusive as hers. I can imagine someone not caring for her music, but I can't imagine anyone leaving one of her shows thinking it was boring. As one of life's natural instigators, she surrounds herself with a bevy of creative oddballs and artisans of all description. Last evening she did an admirable job of turning the sold-out Music Hall of Williamsburg into her own private harem.


The Cars' greatest hits played between acts as a kind of spiritual climate control.


Amanda herself appeared in her kimono to introduce the opening band, a string and horn combo masterminded by Grand Theft Orchestra's very own bassist, Jherek Bischoff.


Bischoff writes elegant compositions of orchestral chamber-pop somewhere in the Van Dyke Parks end of the pool. One such tune was based on the story of Little Red Riding Hood, or so was claimed.


Many of the compositions were instrumentals, though he did bring out a chanteuse named Jen Goma for a few numbers.




Bischoff himself summoned up the courage to helm the mike for one number.


Before breaking into the final number, he announced "One of the guest singers on my album was David Byrne... and he happens to be in the building tonight." The crowd erupted as Byrne took the stage, dressed all in white like an elder prophet of the New Wave.


After a short breakdown, Amanda summoned forth the second act. "Ladies and gentlemen, get ready to jizz... The Simple Pleasure!"


The Simple Pleasure is led by Grand Theft Orchestra's amphetaminal guitarist Chad Raines, who channeled T-Rex and Bowie with his spangled Strat and shiny trousers.






The third band was rather cheekily called Ronald Reagan, and billed as Boston's Premier Eighties Pop Saxophone Duo. Amanda later praised them as "next level shit." Alec Spiegelman on alto and Kelly Roberge on tenor tore into some acrobatic renditions of classic eighties cheese: "Don't Stop Believing," "Total Eclipse of the Heart," "We Built This City," and "Beat It."


Eddie Van Coltrane.


At times their quicksilver interaction was more like a death-defying juggling act than a musical performance. The inspired crowd filled in much of the vocals, though it was hardly necessary.


The Grand Theft Orchestra burst to life with "Do It With a Rock Star." The sound was rough at first but in an acceptably rocking way. The audience was quickly drenched in enthusiasm.






During "Missed Me" the whole band mischievously swapped instruments after each verse.


"Missed Me," verse one.


"Missed Me," verse two.


"Missed Me," verse three. She gets around.

"We should play the next one fast," suggested Michael McQuilken from behind the drumkit. "Not too fast," said Amanda, "I'll die." And with that they careened into "Girl Anachronism." The girl beside me nearly passed out from excitement.


Jherek Bischoff aims his laserscopic bass at the heavens.


Bischoff's backing string section returned to the stage for "Trout Heart Replica" and a stirring arrangement of "The Bed Song."


Amanda strapped on her Yamaha keytar for a cover of "Total Control" by The Motels.








Looking around for a place to lay her instrument after the song finished, Amanda mused, "I need a keytar stand... made of dreams."




A horn section was trotted out for a No Fucking Around version of the Dresden Dolls classic "Half Jack." Another new song, "Berlin," was introduced, titled not after the city but instead Amanda's fictitious stripper name.




After a teasingly long delay, the band returned for an encore, along with some stragglers they picked up backstage. What followed was a chaotic "Leeds United" with a stage full of flailing bodies.




I momentarily felt bad for David Byrne, who stood to one side with little to do...


...that is, until someone handed him an acoustic and he launched into an incendiary version of Talking Heads' "Burning Down the House."






Don't look for the Music Hall of Williamsburg after last night. You'll find only its smouldering remains.

THE GRAND THEFT ORCHESTRA:
Amanda Palmer: vox, keys, corset
Chad Raines: glam guitar, krautrock keys, Sgt Pepper jacket
Jherek Bischoff: bass, bowtie
Michael McQuilken: drums, quips
David Byrne: legendary aura