• More than 39 glass houses are set to go up along the High Line, but the biggest one of all is rearing its head on 6th Avenue at 24th Street. Remember to check back soon for more videos featuring your friends and neighbors. Credits: Legends of the Chelsea, Snap Films 

    https://legends.typepad.com/GlassHouses5-17.mov

  • In a sporty rhinestone t-shirt, bandana and black jacket, author Julia Bell betrayed her punk rock roots.  Her first two novels were marketed as YA (Young Adult), and dealt with, respectively, eating disorders and Juliabell2 sex trafficking, but the one she’s working on now will break that mold: it’s about creative writing and literary snobbery.  Julia teaches at Birkbeck College of the University of London which was originally founded as a working man’s college.  She’s visiting America on a sabbatical, earned after 10 years of teaching and 3 years of tenure.  But even after such unexampled drudgery she appears to be enjoying herself in America, spending most of her vacation sabbatical in the mellower climes of San Francisco, but coming east to meet the American publishers of her second novel, Dirty Work, the one about sex trafficking.  They are “correcting” the English spelling to accord with American usage, so that we TV-watching Yanks can read it without fear of befuddlement.  Over dinner at the El Quijote, we didn’t get a chance to ask Julia that many questions, but she told us a lot of stories.  I guess that’s why she became a writer: lots of stories to tell. (Photo: Ed immediately becomes attached to Julia’s book.)
    What was your biggest surprise about New York? The size of it. I knew it was big, but the physical reality of it is another story. It’s much bigger than I expected.  But the vibe of New York is much the same as London. The last time I came to America, they didn’t even tell me my novel had been published here. I saw it in City Lights in San Francisco. They had done the deal a year earlier, and my agent had lost it under the couch or something. Now I’ve got a new agent and it’s a better experience. This time I’m doing it up right, meeting people, shaking hands. It was a real treat to meet my publishers on Fifth Avenue I took a boat tour around the city today.  The gap in the skyline where the twin towers stood was very noticeable.  It made me very emotional, though I didn’t think it would.  I think it was the experience of actually seeing the site that did it.  Seeing it on TV is just not quite the same.

    I also visited Harlem, with all its amazing old brownstones, some blocks neglected, and others gentrified.  The same thing is happening in London, with the gentrification.  Starbucks will open two stores, one on each end of the block, and run an Italian café out of business.  That’s what we have instead of diner in London.  All the cafés are run by Italians.

    My visit coincided with Queen Elizabeth’s. So another surprising thing was watching on TV as George Bush winked at her. It was absurd! You don’t wink at the Queen!

    How did you learn about the Chelsea? I knew about Dylan Thomas since I’m Welsh. I had also heard about it through punk rock: Sid and the Ramones. I thought at least it would be unlike a Holiday Inn.  I had also heard about Stanley, but when I got here I was pleasantly surprised to see him working the desk.  I Juliabell3 told him I was an author and showed him my book.  He was very friendly.  I also told him I was going to interview with you guys for the blog.  When I showed him my reservation he said, “Oh, you booked a room through the web, so you got a bad one.  I’ll give you a better deal, but the next time call and talk to somebody in person.”  [Ed. Note: she booked through Travelocity.  Stanley did indeed give her a pretty good room, so be sure to mention the blog when checking in!]  He showed me the London Times article, and seemed very proud of it, but he wouldn’t let me hold the magazine.  Some body stole his other copy, he said, and this was his last one.  I also met the other guy, Jerry, and he said, “I talked to your publishers and they said your book was going to sell well.”  That’s what I like about New Yorkers, they have a good sense of humor.  Not like the people in San Francisco, who are sometimes rather slow on the uptake when you make a joke.  Which reminds me, I’ve been in San Franciscoso long that when Stanley gave me my key, I said, “Thanks, dude.”  He gave me quite a priceless look.  I don’t imagine he’s used to being called dude very much.  Kind of like winking at the Queen, now that I think of it!

    You’ve been in America too long.  But don’t worry, Stanley has been called worse than that. 

    But what about your views on literature?  Do you think creative writing can be taught? Yes, I think it can be, but only if you concern yourself with the mechanics, and don’t focus so much on the subject matter.  You have to provide a non-competitive, non-judgmental, cooperative environment.  If you do that, you can give people a vehicle to express whatever they want.  When I did my MA at East Anglia, I learned nothing, since it was too competitive.  The instructors were unhelpful.  I remember a course I took with the famous poet Andrew Motian: he would read your paper and hardly even comment on it, and when he did it would be something trivial, like, “don’t use a comma here.”  It was a nasty, bitter environment.  Everyone thought they were going to get the booker prize, and then the reality set in that not everyone was going to publish. It was a prime example of how not to run a writing program.  I keep it in mind, so I can be sure to provide a more open, accepting environment where I teach at Birkbeck.

    Oh, I might mention that my offices are at Bloomsbury, in the same place that Leonard and Virginia Wolfe and Lyton Strachey lived.  It’s no longer housing; it’s now university rooms, but we have the same view as they did.  I’m attracted to places such as this, with a literary history.  The Chelsea is the same sort of place.

    Do you think the Chelsea has a special creative energy? Certainly there’s an atmosphere unlike anywhere else. There are an extraordinary number of people walking through the lobby that I feel I’d like to know, or at least talk to.  Another strange thing about the Chelsea is that I lose my sense of direction every time I step out of the hotel.  I always get the idea it faces downtown, so I’ll walk the wrong way.  I think it must be some kind of vortex in the space/time continuum.

    That’s what we always say! Hey, have you been reading the blog? Yes, I must confess, I have. Well, that doesn’t change the paranormal reality of the situation.  

    What do you think of the Star Lounge in the basement of the Chelsea? I read your review, and I’m sure their “stars” are just the little dweebs from the latest crap Indie band that no one will remember in two months.

    We forgot to ask Julia if she witnessed any sex trafficking during her stay at the Chelsea.  And actually, now that I think about it, it would have been interesting to discuss her new novel!  That shows you how swift we are.  After our dinner at El Quijote, Julia sat in the lobby for awhile and ran into one of our resident celebrities, Stormé DeLarverié, and together they stood outside and made fun of the costumes of the dweebs entering the Star Lounge.

  • So the big news is that the 21st Century Bonnie and Clyde stayed at the Chelsea Hotel! After scaling fire escapes to rob tony penthouses all over Manhattan, they would hole up here to chill out and get high. Bc_2 Debbie had a feeling that the pair in the transient room next door was bad news.  The woman told her that she was from Savannah, Georgia and that her Daddy sent her and her fiancee to New York to have fun while their lavish wedding and home was prepared for them back in Savannah. She was a Southern Belle from an old money family, she said.  She also claimed to be homesick for the smell of swamp water.  I know you have odors and all here in New York, she said, but there is nothing like the smell of swamp water. Right!
         If I remember that movie correctly, Bonnie was just looking for a little excitement, and Clyde would never kill anybody except by accident.  Or something like that.  They didn’t rob us, probably because they understood that we were the Outlaw Chelsea Bloggers, and so were abiding by a rigid outlaws code of honor.
         Suprise, suprise, they finally got caught. And they apparently didn’t even go out in a hail of bullets.  What’s wrong with these cops and robbers these days?
         On a more positive note, Clyde left his leather jacket behind and I figure I can sell it to Artie for his gangster museum. — Ed Hamilton

  • Tuesday, May 22, 8:30
    Danbernneww Dan Bern will bring his blend of rock, blues, country and folk to Brooklyn.
    SouthPaw, 125 Fifth Ave. Park Slope, Brooklyn

    Wednesday, May 23,

    Painter Hawk Alfredson’s work is currently on display at The Pit. The paintings will be up for a couple of months so stop by and check them out. 
    The Pit, 154 West 29th St., NY NY

    Thursday, May 24, 10:30 p.m.
    Kino_front Susanne Bartsch and Kenny Kenny say goodbye to Tuesday and hello to Thursday with Kino 41. Kino 41 starlets: Amanda Leopore, Lady Fag, Moondust, Furey and Andre J. Cine Sounds & Show:  TBD.  Life is Like a Movie. Stop by every Thursday for your close up.
    135 West 41st, NY NY

    Friday, May 25,
    An exhibition of drawings by R. Crumb are currently on display through June 16. Many of Crumb’s works are drawn in ink on placemats at restuarant tables.  Chelsea Now called the drawings, "compelling in their simplicity."
    David Zwirner Gallery, 525 West 19th St., NY NY

    Saturday, May 26,  9pm – 2am or when ever
    Bd1965 "A Night in Bob Dylan’s Bedroom" is an evening of films, live performances and more.  (BYOB) For additional info check with the fine folks at Dan’s Chelsea Guitars.
    The Hotel Chelsea, 222 West 23rd St., NY NY  (215 & 219)


    If you have an event appropriate for "All Tomorrow’s Parties" send an e-mail to chelblog@yahoo.com

  • We knew from the get-go that the new person in the transient room must be pretty savvy about the Hotel.  She put the “do not disturb” sign on her door the minute she checked in and didn’t take it down until she left to return to New Mexico. Now, on top of that, she sends us one of the most intriguing good-bye notes we’ve ever received.

    My last shower over, leaving on a jet plane, don’t know when I’ll be back again, fecal guy.

    Memory-quick photo booth 4 poses drops in the slot.

    I used to drop in with my friend Frank Doggerel AKA the dog to visit a very thin blonde chainsmoking doper who had a hospital bed in her room so she could see the tube and eat Chinese takeout, whose containers covered floor, chairs, etc but not the tables or bureau.

    Those were covered with several dozen copies of Interview magazine, all the same date.

    The dog and I used to place bets on how long it would take her to mention "Did I tell you I was In Interview?" and demand we find the right page.

    It made her so happy.

    Remember the piano player in El Quixote(sp)? Such a sweetie.

  • Be sure to check out filmmaker Michael Maher’s documentary on the changing real estate scene in Chelsea. (It’s now online) The film is particurarly concerned with the Chelsea Hotel. Our old frienemy, Cindy Gallop, makes an appearance so we can continue to be annoyed about the condoization of the McBurney Y.  She shows off her new Paul Richard painting of her staring up worshipfully into the eyes of her motorcycle-bestridying ex-boyfriend. Debate arises as to whether or not the painting is intended to be ironic.  See for yourself! Also of interest is the question as to whether Ed should get rid of his foosball table — which he insists is decidely unironic.  Finally, will Chelsea Hotel manager, Stanley Bard, succumb to the diabolical wishes of the board?  (Photo: Michael interviewing Dan Courtenay of Dan’s Chelsea Guitars on the first floor of the  hotel. Dan didn’t make it in the final cut, but he’s a fascinating character and if there’s any justice in the world he’ll get his own documentary soon.)

  • Looks like James Kent had a very familiar tourist experience when he stopped by the Chelsea. It scared the bejeezus out of him!  Well, I guess he got even, his film scared the bejeezus out of us.

    The filmmaker writes:
    We came up with the idea for the film and originally it started out with the Gatekeeper and the man. He enters a large party scene. We could not find enough people, or the right location to shoot that. I’m from the Boston area. I had come to New York to scout some locations for a different short film (that will be up on you tube in a couple of days), when I was there I suddenly got inspired. Maybe we could set a scene in the Chelsea. This has been a hotel of much inspiration for so many that we went for broke and booked a room (never having actually seen the inside of the Chelsea). When we arrived we were overcome by the excitement, the energy. The hotel seemed alive and it instantly became a character. As this is just a film for fun, and for people to enjoy, we did do it a bit on the sly. The amazing footage that we got ended up reshaping the story for the film. We had such a good time.

    If you’d like to post it on your blog, I would be more than honored. I feel as if we have now contributed to the legacy of such an amazing, and important, New York City landmark.

  • Being There, Being Here

    “Foreign Correspondent” Segment, May 15, 2007 (The segment is now available for viewing online.  Click through and scroll to the bottom of the page for the link.)

    As I followed the camera into the lobby and fixed on the familiar features of Stanley Bard, I tried to resist the inevitable nostalgia — after all, nostalgia’s not what it used to be — and to simply enjoy the show. Fred Guilhaus, another novelist, was visiting from Adelaide. He’d once sent me the words of Leonard Cohen’s song and we’d laughed at the typical Cohen rhyme: giving me head/unmade bed.   

    For a long time after Robyn and I returned to Australia we couldn’t talk about New York. The feeling of being away from everything — reflected in the yearning voice of your Sydney correspondent — was too painful.

                What do I think now? I’ve just finished my fourth novel, called “The Museum of the Self,” in which the protagonist cleans up his shed, mourns his losses and begins to construct a museum of his life. He’s a bit like me. I still have my membership card of the McBurney YMCA, member since 11/11/1999. Before that, I have a memory of staying there in 1969, when I had taken a train down from Toronto to pick up a battered VW, shipped to Elizabeth, New Jersey from Germany. At the McBurney that first time, I witnessed a brutal inter-racial punch-up between a redneck New Yorker and a much larger African American. It was like everything else in America: too sudden, too loud, seductively dangerous.

                Now, nostalgia’s a luxury I can’t afford. I can live at the Chelsea any time I like, go there in my head, read the thousands of words I’ve written about the place, imagine you two writing and publishing your wonderful blog, wonder what Tony Nota is up to, all without leaving home. And pray that Stanley resists the inevitable pressure to condominimize. As for the queen in her penthouse across the road, she needs a personal taste trainer.

                At the end of the show, the kids recalled for our visitor some New York adventures: how we turned the couch against the wall in Tony’s apartment so Clare wouldn’t fall out of bed; how we watched a dramatic fire across 23rd Street from our apartment window, the Chelsea sign reflecting in the floods of water the engine were pumping into the street; how we somehow all crammed into one room for our two month stay at the old palace; how a mix-up about the rent left us facing eviction; how at the end of our stay we packed all our belongings into a taxi and left for our next digs with barely a whimper.

                But I don’t miss it, oh no. Not a bit. Not much.

    Bruce Russell

  • Since the 1980s are back in style we thought we’d rerun a few photos that originally appeared in the 1988 issue of the Italian Magazine, Le Figaro.  The photos were taken by Catherine Leroy who sadly died last year.  First up, here’s authors Nick & Rhea posing in their richly appointed apartment! (Thanks to Rachel Cohn for the magazine.) In an earlier interview, Rhea wrote: "One thing Nick and I agree on: Stanley is brilliant at choosing tenants.  We’ve never figured out how he does it, but he knows what he’s doing.  The mix was always fascinating, even if there were disgusting individuals and events, and life there was never dull. I will never forget Viva’s screams!  She could shake the skylights from the lobby, and I loved her for it.  Or seeing Grace Jones hooded and draped in fur, coming and going to see Richard Bernstein (I really miss him).  Or taking the dog out the morning they wheeled Virgil Thomson out on a gurney for the last time (I miss him, too).  Or coming home from the grocery store and barely missing being hit by a flying shoe when a woman jumped to her death from the ninth floor and hit the street in front of me.  Or screaming bloody murder myself when they were filming Madonna’s sex book down the hall and kept knocking out our electricity while we were ghost-writing for someone very famous.  A lot of money and a deadline were involved, but nobody really cared or listened.  It was just another typical daily drama at the Chelsea.  We loved it and hated it."
    Nickrhealefig_2

    (more…)

  • At some point in the near future the documentary will be online.  In addition, you can hear Ed in a follow-up interview on Friday at 10:30 a.m.  He will be a guest on "The Naked City," a program on Australian public radio FBi 94.5. The station also streams online.

    Hi Ed,
    Just a note from here in Sydney, keep up the good fight.  The  profile on the Chelsea we saw last night on Abc2 the tv was fascinating  and had us hooked, we will keep up with what’s happening via your  blog.  If a city loses it’s character, it loses it heart.  Money  doesn’t make it pump harder, it makes the heart day and stone take  it’s place.
    Long Live the Chelsea!
    jo & brent and baby Cai

    Hi Ed,
    I too watched Foreign Corrospondent last night and was amazed at the history of the Chelsea and its commitment to maintain its spirit. Especially that of the wonderful manager. Keep up the fight and let it live on. I hope to visit soon.  Lita, Perth, Western Australia

    WOW as a mum from Bundaberg Queensland Australia i saw a piece of footage last nite that i truely felt for ..That such place of beauty, history and most importantly peoples homes could be sold like that. I pray that everyone living there now life there and thier after life there can keep their homes and little piece of New York that i have dreamed of visiting since i was small child..i still can…from our little aussie family to your huge chelsea one hugs loves kisses and prayers
    Bronnie

    Saw the foreign correspondent interview on Australian TV. Keep up the good fight for the Chelsea . It has always been a big dream of mine as a young Arts student many moons ago to live at the Chelsea Hotel . I hope that one day it will still eventuate. When the kids leave home..  regards
    Lisa, Tasmania

    Yep this aired last night in Australia – your message certainly came across. I felt the gentrification wave when I was in NY in November last year and thought what a shame it was.
    I live in Sydney – our inner city has been completely gentrified, the hipsters are out in force (notcompletely priced out yet) and the yuppies in full flight. As a Victorian colony our lot are snobbier than New
    Yorkers (I hate to say) and face exactly the same consumer goods-driven economy fuelled by booming capital markets and a recent property boom – most people are too caught up with themselves to realsie what they are participating in. And hey as in economics, it is just a hostage position – no player can change their actions and expect anyone else to follow suit.

    But no matter how gentried NY gets at least there is some remnant of soul in your city because by and large there is still heritage. Most of our great buildings are gone for mod towers like new Hearst building
    (I’m typing this from one).

    Good little doco. Good luck with the blog. Keep up the fight for grit.
    Matthew

    G’day guys,
    Bit slow reacting, but I thoroughly enjoyed watching a segment about the Chelsea (and your good bloggin’selves) on abc last night. (Melbourne, Australia). This inner city gentrification syndrome appears to be a world-wide problem. I cannot fathom the unbridled and pointless greed of so many individuals on this planet. Enough’s enough you bastards! Leave the hotel alone! Would LOVE to visit NYC one day and drop in for a cup of tea. All the best,
    Denise

    Gin & Tonics at the ready, we sat down to watch the ABC’s report on Hotel Chelsea. The excitement was palpable, in only minutes our own temporal Mecca would buzz across the television screen.

    Within the first few shots of the Hotel sign and the neighbourhood I had drifted off into gooey nostalgia land and my companion had his hand on my shoulder for moral support.

    “I want to go home”, I peeped from under my excitement. “I miss my Chelsea”.

    The reactions came thick and fast as familiar faces and names darted across the screen. Life always looks different on TV and it was interesting to see the lobby as a camera does, with the weirdness and decrepitude harshly abstracted.

    Stanley Bard gave a wonderful performance as Stanley Bard and was much more forthcoming in interview than I imagined he might be. He was particularly honest about the Board of Directors constantly pressuring him to make the place more profitable. Presented to us was Stanley Bard, protector of the last outpost of bohemia.

    We met several of the buildings inhabitants including Gerald Busby and the hosts of this illustrious blog, Debbie Martin and Ed Hamilton. When they were introduced, Deb was hassling Ed about how they could have a sofa if only it weren’t for the foosball table Ed insists on keeping. Come on Debbie, everyone knows foosball is essential to the production of the great American novel!

    We toured the building and neighbourhood with Ed and the reporter, Michael Maher. In discussing the issue of gentrification, the report introduced us to a resident of the old YMCA, now million dollar condos, the seductively Imeldaesque Cindy Gallop. We saw her sterile, cavernous home with it’s ostentatious displays of consumption, most particularly the shoe gallery. [I might have forgiven the shoe gallery had I seen Westwood heels but that’s a different contribution]

    Ms Gallop even apologised for her presence in the area and agreed that the old time residents should dislike her. Her credibility was somewhat dimmed when she spoke of 23rd Street as a zone akin to the worst of the Bronx for street danger and she couldn’t resist a certain swagger in her description of living on 23rd St as being a bit edgy… Yeah, if you think giant cupcakes are edgy.

    For this viewer, the big excitement was simply to see the hotel on TV being treated with the dignity that she deserves. The scenes of Ed Hamilton reading from his work, on the fire escapes, glued the whole thing together. Ed’s writings flow so beautifully with his NY via Kentucky accent seducing this Australian ear.

    My companion, who works in travel, was sent on his way with instructions to get prices for a ticket back to Manhattan.

    XXXXR