November 6, 2006
I had just arrived in New York and so far hadn't really been on my own.
As soon as I arrived I joined my host and after the reunion, all we had to do was get to bed. It was late and the trip had tired me.
During the day my friend works and I have to occupy myself but what to do? I do not know anyone here. I didn't organize anything, it didn't even occur to me to plan activities. I find myself on a fait accompli. Having little money aside, I decided to visit the city on foot, get some fresh air and take pictures. Anyway, I don't know anything in NY.
I don't usually live in the city center. No sooner had the stairs of the building gone down and the door passed, I was immediately propelled into New York City.
I'm wondering. I'm not sure which direction to take. To the right? to the left? and after? I leave it to chance and after all, I have no specific objective.
At the time it was not common to use the GPS of your phone to find your bearings, so any movement was much less assisted than today and the adventure much more present.
Very quickly, I arrive on an avenue. A cardiovascular artery, a big lump, a good fracture in the city. I turn to look where I'm from.
At the intersection of Grove St and 7th Avenue, I understand why this neighborhood is called the Village. Apparently in NYC, the landscape can change quickly.
As I walk south, finally I think, without noticing it too much, I approach Wallstreet. Funny crows appear. The kind you find in Fritz the Cat.
The man who sold the world
Near a (mythical) newspaper distributor, a man.
I don't know if it was the size of the cigar, the gigantic necked suit, or both that caught my attention, but I observed him. I slow down. Although I was testing my telephoto lens, I wasn't that far from it. The stress was felt. Targeting this man, putting him in the sights is not such a simple act. I'm afraid of getting caught. Especially with a telephoto lens, you become very visible. We look like a paparazzi.
I had this idea when a paparazzi got caught, he got his gear broken and a few teeth for the form. This is a consequence that seems fair when we attack private lives for profit.
I'm not a paparazzi, let alone a photographer. At this time, I was hardly a good tourist who was able to buy a quality camera.
Here I am in a strange embarrassment. While I am drawn to the beauty of the moment, I am afraid to take a photo because I fear the possible consequences of my actions.
Despite everything, I go for it. I'm not doing anything wrong after all.
It's hard to "steal" a photo. With the years and the democratization of cameras (which does not have one) it becomes more and more complicated and even risky. Yet, this is the only way to get something "sincere". This photo will have had a lot of impact on my enthusiasm. She encouraged me, motivated me. She made me believe in my potential.
I started to "think" of myself as a photographer.
I continue south.
Always a tourist but now thirsty for shooting, commissioned by the Universe itself to capture all that it generates, to be the spectator of its experience, I shoot everything that moves, and even what does not move.
A Red light… (yes but an American Red light !!!)
American traffic lights are located after the crossroads, and not before as in Europe. You must stop at the white line painted on the roadway before the intersection. In principle, you can turn right at a red light (after stopping) in many states.
In fact, on August 5, 1914, the American Traffic Signal Company installed the first electric traffic lights in Cleveland, Ohio, at the corner of 105th Street East and Euclid Avenue. These two-color signals were controlled manually by a police officer in a cabin and a bell sounded when changing.
Canal Street Station
Today, Canal Street is one of the main east-west arteries in Lower Manhattan. It takes its name from a canal that was dug in the early 1800s to drain Collect Pond (a pond) into the Hudson River. In the 1700s, Collect Pond, which was located between where City Hall is today and White Street, was a popular picnic area and winter ice rink. It also provided drinking water to the growing city, but by the beginning of the 19th century it had become polluted. The pond was filled in 1811 and Canal Street was built along the path of the drainage system.
Thomas Paine Park:
A little further, I come to who will have been the source of the channel. The land that is now Thomas Paine Park including Foley Square was once part of a freshwater swamp surrounded, ironically, by three former British Revolutionary Prisons. After the war, the region experienced more difficult times. In the 19th century, it was part of one of the most notorious slums in the country.
I feel confused but not lost for all that. Everything looks so familiar.
Me who was born in Nice, the landscape is familiar to me, the architectural style is very close, very Haussmannian but I am dizzy. It's as if I had eaten a side of Alice's mushroom, here I am suffering from macropsia. The buildings are gigantic and the streets monumental in width.
Foley Square is named after the patriot, author, humanist and political visionary Thomas Paine (1737-1809). Although born in Great Britain, he is the "anonymous" author of Common Sense: A pamphlet in favor of the break with Great Britain and the establishment of a Republic. A traitor? The one by whom Great Britain will have lost America or a hero, the one by whom America emancipated itself from Great Britain? Again, it would seem that everything is a matter of point of view.
From the foot of the New York Supreme Court tower, I feel like I'm in a movie.
It was founded in 1691. It is therefore the oldest American court dealing with general jurisdiction. The New York Supreme Court handles civil cases statewide, as well as crimes committed in New York City itself, but as its name does not indicate, it is not the most high of the state judiciary. In fact the court which decides in the last resort is the New York Court of Appeals, which sits in Albany (state capital) and which, as its name suggests, is not a court of appeal.
Between the legs of the Manhattan Municipal Building, one of the largest administrative buildings in the world, I expect any moment to see Spiderman appear, followed by Superman passing between the buildings. With any luck could I see the Batmobile go by?
The Manhattan Muncipal Building was designed by the McKim, Mead and White architectural firm. He wanted to make the skyscraper the first building to include a metro station at its base. The Manhattan Municipal Building is inspired, in its architecture, by the city hall of Vienna.
The statue at the top of the building is a golden figure called Civic Fame. With a height of eight meters, it is the second tallest statue in Manhattan, behind the neighboring Statue of Liberty (Miss Liberty). Built with copper sheets and featuring a hollow heart, it is similar in this respect. Standing barefoot on a sphere, she wears a flowing dress and a laurel wreath symbolizing glory. In her left hand, she holds a five-pointed crown, which represents the five boroughs of New York City (Manhattan, Queens, Brooklyn, the Bronx and Staten Island); the five domes of the building also represent them. In her right hand, she holds a shield and a laurel branch representing victory and triumph.
From City Hall Park, mythical place where the oldest town hall in the United States was built, I can see, on the left, the Woolworth Building. It is one of the oldest skyscrapers in the borough of Manhattan. It is one of the fifty tallest skyscrapers in the country, with 57 floors and a height of 241 meters. In 1966 he obtained the distinction of National Historic Landmark. It was the tallest skyscraper in the world until 1930. On the right, the Park Row Building or 15 Park Row Building. Located at Park Row in the Financial District of Manhattan. It is a skyscraper with a height of 119 meters. It was the tallest skyscraper in the world between its inauguration in 1899 and 1908.
The famous Ford Crown Victoria Police Interceptor!
This model is fitted to most American and Canadian fonts. In 2003, three vehicles equipped the municipal police of Montpellier, until 2009 to be resold at auction in early 2010. Having lived in Montpellier, I had heard about this story.
Proud of its new acquisitions, the Montpellier police were very annoyed when they realized that the cars could not enter the city center. Montpellier is a medieval city and the streets of its heart are narrow.
Oh a cop! Yeah but a cop wearing a leather raincoat and a cap!
This is the first time I've come across one. He has class.
Once again, I risk the photo of "paparazzi" but this time, I go up the level with this Police Officer.
He looks busy, I approach casually, and without warning, at lightning speed, I brandish myself, take my picture and then go back to stealth mode.
With a beating heart, he left the scene without taking the time to check my shot. I hadn't done anything wrong but everything in my behavior would have shown the opposite. Paradox.
When I finally look at the reason why I took all "these risks" I realize that the policeman sticks out his tongue. I learn then that as with music, there are times and setbacks. It's all a question of rhythm and I caught a hitch.
I decide to continue straight, I land on Broadway.
I congratulate the Hazard, the Chaos, my guide who so far has done an excellent job.
Broadway,
I had heard stories of it on Broadway. Musicals, budget Hollywood Megas productions, dancing in the rain, etc ... but I never imagined for a second that Broadway could be such a long and wide road, stretching as far as the eye can see.
Ok, this is not a spot. I saw it as a small place with a coffee. In the country where the soda on your XL menu is 2 liters, I'm starting to understand what Large means.
Broadway appears like a deep valley bordered by skyscrapers all lined up. It was, I believe, the first time that such a prospect stretched out before me. A vanishing point on the horizon and height on the sides. the kind of drawings you try to do when you learn perspective at a vanishing point.
As one of Manhattan's main north-south thoroughfares (and oldest), Broadway's nickname may seem obvious. However, the name is a translation of - you guessed it - the Dutch phrase brede weg, or "high road". Fun Fact: Broadway not only stretches the length of Manhattan, but continues through the Bronx and even 18 miles beyond the city, ending just past Sleepy Hollow, New York.
But then playing on Broadway is playing anywhere on that highway?
Suddenly I see a massive blockage, a skyscraper entirely covered with steel beams. This is the One Liberty Plaza. A watch. It has 54 floors and measures 226 meters.
The vast majority of the building is made of steel, as the original sponsor was U.S. Steel. Might as well do with what we have.
Built in the World Trade Center district, One Liberty Plaza was severely damaged during the September 11, 2001 attacks, to the point where the building was feared. Can that fall? When you're at the foot, it's hard to imagine.
The skyscraper has a subway station in its basements like the Manhattan Municipal Building and once housed the headquarters of the NASDAQ stock exchange company.
The ground floor of the building was used as a mortuary in the days following the September 11 attacks. Funny fate for a building. To believe that he also knows a BearMarket.
Night begins to fall and like the day before, I can no longer take a clear picture.
Is my device not good enough?
Am I setting it wrong? Well, I try and then we'll see.
Either way, I'm free. I am not a photographer. I have no obligation of result.
He's getting hungry and it's time to discover the famous $ 1 Pizza Slice
I am in Nice on the south-eastern border with Italy and for me, pizza has always been a refined dish made by renowned pizzaiolos. It often happens that they participate in the atmosphere of the restaurant. We see them behind their sweaty counter, next to their stove swirling pasta with their fingertips with each new order. Each restaurant was vying for the best Pizza on the French Riviera.
There… how to say? What happened to his pizza while crossing the Atlantic? Did she take the water?
On the taste side, let's say that there is everything in it to activate all the pleasure neurons in my brain. Salt, fat, acidity and cheese. Finally something that plays the role of cheese but is not cheese. I do not know what it is. It works better to limit the role of cheese than real cheese. Perfectly runny, browned in places but never burnt, very fatty and very salty. Pure food technology.
Dough? unbelievable. perfectly crispy, light, a pure wonder.
I wonder how my body is going to digest all this plastic, but it was delicious.
There's nothing like a good can of soda to wash off all that fat and it's time to go to bed.
I'm going to dream of that old French comedy from 1976, with Louis de Funès and Coluche: L'aile ou la cuisse. A film by Claude Zidi.
History shows the rivalry between “traditional and quality French gastronomy”, here defended by Charles Duchemin, director of the Duchemin guide (recalling the Michelin Guide which rewards quality restaurants), and industrial food, the spearhead of which is Jacques Tricatel.
Good night all.