Prospect: A Year in the Park

Never can say goodbye

Happy birthday wherever you are, Michael Jackson! Today's memorial bash on the park's Nethermead, a Spike Lee joint, was a mellow and exuberant party by the time we got there at 4 p.m. or so. The light rain had ended, and a vast crowd grooved to Jackson hits spun by a superb DJ. 

    

However tragically he spun out of orbit, Michael clearly inspired a lot of love...and self-expression. The crowd was full of folks wearing their hearts on their sleeves, or chests. T-shirt tributes ranged from somber to sparkly.

        

 

Personal style homages ranged from the sublime...

to the ridiculous.

A lot of folks brought their little ones, who perched on shoulders to see the Jumbotron and the swaying crowd.

It reminded me of a Kinks concert we saw years ago:  at least two, if not three, generations all getting into the music.

Of course, a few were too young to appreciate "Beat It" or "Thriller" or even "Rockin' Robin." For lots more photos, see coverage by fellow blogger Brooklyn Vegan.

And, as always when there's free music in Brooklyn, there were Lone Dance Maniacs, for whom MIchael, a sui generis dance genius, is a fitting patron saint. I will spare you the old lady in purple tights and flowing gray hair who was performing her own private eurythmics. But the fellow below gets my "Don't Dream It...Be It" award of the day.

 

JACKO BOOTS BARD FROM PARK

Late-breaking news about this weekend's other planned festivity in Prospect Park, from the feisty thespians at the Rebellious Subjects Theatre:

Our SECOND WEEKEND of Henry IV and V fast approaches...and Spike Lee has stepped in to change our plans.  In moving his 10,000 person tribute to the Park, he has inadvertently kicked independent theatre quite literally right off the stage.

That's right, the park has taken away our permit to perform on Saturday, August 29th due to the Michael Jackson tribute.  So what did we do??

RESCHEDULED BOTH SHOWS TO SUNDAY.  Which means SUNDAY, AUGUST 30TH is now officially HENRY MARATHON DAY.

Now, that's what I call "show-must-go-on" spirit. Let's get out there this Sunday, by God, for Harry and Saint George! The troupe's 23 actors of "diehard spirit and dedication" are unfolding their Henry trilogy in the park's shaded Music Pagoda; although I missed the first installment (Henry IV Part I) last weekend, it seems from this review that they mean business, bard-wise. Last year, they performed Chekhov's "Three Sisters" at the park's Lefferts Homestead, so these are troupers indeed.

Here's the timing:

12:30pm
HENRY IV
The saga begins...

3-4:30pm
DINNER BREAK
We take a brief interlude...

4:30pm
HENRY V
...The stunning conclusion.

LITERARY BONUS: SOME QUOTES FOR MICHAEL FROM WILL'S HENRY V

O! for a Muse of fire, that would ascend
The brightest heaven of invention!
A kingdom for a stage, princes to act
And monarchs to behold the swelling scene.

His nose was as sharp as a pen...

Would I were with him, wheresome'er he is, either in heaven or in hell.

Dogfights

It's Guest Artist Monday! Since I didn't make it over to the park on Mother's Day, I was especially delighted by these glimpses of what I missed from gifted  photographer William Woerner. He showcases his stuff on his blog Lens; here are a few great shots of Sunday's dog action.





Dogs were on my mind after Brownstoner sparked some flame wars over this article in the New York Post, featuring a cranky video vigilante named Orrin Tilevitz whose mission in life seems to be getting irresponsible dog owners busted for their pooches' park misbehavior. I chatted with the young reporter, Sarah Ryley, on the Long Meadow last week (and honored her request to "embargo" the story); given the thin gruel that is Post house style, I thought she did a decent job.


In the movies, Orrin would be a quivering fall guy (played by Richard Dreyfuss) for an out-of-bounds Disney dog (perhaps like this rascal, "Zeus," at left). But in reality, this guy walks around with pepper spray and seems to dedicate every waking hour to chronicling miscreant dog/owner duos. Apparently, he's been attacked in the past; my own relaxed attitude toward the off-leash crowd in the Long Meadow (both during and outside of permitted hours) is shaped by my own, more positive experience. The dogs and owners I've met (typified by the folks at the advocacy group FIDO) create a safe, vibrant community out of this greensward. The worst behavior I've seen is dog-on-dog bullying (no worse than what I used to witness when I worked in an office). Tilevitz fumes that dogs ruin birdwatching, but I'm such a lousy birdwatcher that it's not an issue for me.

Dogwatching is more fun, anyway; no warbler has ever offered me a big sloppy kiss or let me give it a belly rub.

All dog photos: William Woerner; Tilevitz photo, JC Rice for New York Post

Shredding Christmas

The atmosphere was almost festive at the Park Circle outpost of Mulchfest, where the carcasses of Tannenbaums lay awaiting their fates in a Parks Department chipper truck. (Flatbush Gardener, an enthusiastic supporter, has more photos here.) They'll be doing it again tomorrow, Sunday, January 11, from 10 a.m. to 2 p.m.; they request that you take the ornaments off. (But it would make a nice movie scene if an adorably enraged young woman—Anne Hathaway, say—dragged one to the event covered in festive baubles popping and cracking all the way.)

A corps of young volunteers enthusiastically swept up stray needles as the trees metamorphosed from sparkling holiday decor into organic ground cover. I wonder if they'd like to help clean up our living room after we reluctantly escort our tree over here tomorrow. (Usually the stray needles adhere to the cats, who walk around looking like hedgehogs for awhile.)

Winter fun update: Act, skate, quilt, or bark

I did not enter the park on a dreary Wednesday; from the street, it looked like a morose collage of browns and greys in the rain. But no way does Prospect Park shut down for the winter; in fact, the next week or two will feature a quirky assortment of diversions, all priced for these Challenging Economic Times.

Skate for half-price on Fridays! Admission to the Wollman Rink is only $2.50 for adults, $1.50 for seniors and kids 14 and under; the ice is open from 8:30 a.m. to 10 p.m. (Skate rental is $6.50.) A great cheap date that involves romantic opportunities galore. Note: The discount doesn't happen on holiday weekends (Dec. 26 and Jan. 2 and 20).

Image: Prospect Park Archives

Mope over Moscow! An ambitious young troupe called "Rebellious Subjects Theatre" is presenting Chekhov's "Three Sisters" in, of all places, the Lefferts Homestead. Curiouser still, they promise to infuse this "distinctly American translation" with "the zeitgeist of the American 1950s." Since the homestead is a Dutch farmhouse from the 1780s, that should be some trick. (Personally, I'd have had Masha and the gang yearning to go back to Manhattan from their exile in provincial Flatbush, but no one asked me.) Tickets are limited, but only $10; details here.


Dig some quilts! At the Audubon Center, the annual Quilt Exhibit features some offbeat creations from the Quilters' Guild of Brooklyn, including a Goth-inspired quilt with a rose and safety pins. I liked this one, by Ginny Dorris, with its urban feel. See them weekends through Dec. 28 from 1 to 4 p.m.

Count the birds! The Christmas Bird Count is a longstanding tradition, a nationwide bird census that gathers valuable data for conservationists; volunteers are welcome, so bag your shopping and grab your binoculars on Saturday, December 20th. (Call 718-287-3400, ext. 102 for details. I have no idea how they keep different people from counting the same birds over and over again.

Party down with your dog! I'm afraid it's called "Bark, the Herald Angels Sing," but this holiday festival on Saturday, Dec. 13 promises "song, coffee, hot chocolate, and mulled cider, as well as chew bones and treats. Deck your dog in festive attire...Songbooks with dog-centric lyrics will be provided." (More pooch puns...) Santa will be there; show up near the Picnic House overlooking the Long Meadow from 8 to 10. The event is sponsored by FIDO, the advocates for the park's off-leash dog community, and as this picture from last year demonstrates, they know a good time when they sniff one.

Amidst the mists and coldest frosts

This morning, the Long Meadow had both ingredients in the old tongue-twister.* Fog moved across the Upper Pool, and a light frost lay on all the grass until the sun touched it.

*Amidst the mists and coldest frosts,
he thrusts his fist against the posts
and still insists he sees the ghosts.

The bummer about being a grown-up is you can't flop down and lie in the leaves anymore. Wait a minute—I'm a grown-up, I can do anything I want.  [Flop] Hey, look, there's the Tennis House in the background!

 

Leaf-peeping is a good excuse for dog-watching. This goofy little Papillon was watching me.

And finally, another call for help to my birding buddies: Anybody care to ID today's Blurred Bird? He and several pals were ground-feeding and tree-flitting on a big linden at the edge of the meadow. The streaky breast has me all confused.

TWIPP
This weekend in Prospect Park will be one big Hallowe'en party. On Saturday there's the Haunted Walk and Carnival on Lookout Hill and the Nethermead from 12 to 3. And on Sunday, the intrepid explorers of Forgotten New York set forth to tour the "Secrets of Prospect Park" at noon (go here for details and to reserve a spot).

It beats a cubicle

 Prospect Park is not what most of us picture when we say "workplace," but plenty of people here are on the job. This cheerful young crew labored on the slope of Lookout Hill; nearby signs announce, "Woodland Restoration: Forest rehabilitation in progress." They are thinning out the understory, replacing invasive species with native ones.








Meanwhile, a short walk across Center Drive, a crew from the new TV show "Fringe" set up a tracking shot on the park's edge. Earlier, they had rigged a long pipe atop the black car, to shoot actors inside the car in motion. "Fringe" actually scouted the CrazyStable recently (we've been on "Law & Order twice," so we're "film-friendly" as the location scouts say), but so far they haven't booked us. Of course, this being the city, people just strolled past the lights, camera, and action, deep in cell-phone oblivion.

COOL PARK STUFF IN OCTOBER

October 18 (next Saturday, not tomorrow): Volunteer Fall Clean-Up. Meet at base of Lookout Hill on Center Drive; get the place ready for the kiddies on Hallowe'en, get some exercise and fresh air, and maybe meet the guy or gal of your dreams. Okay, I made that last part up, but I always wonder why lonely singles hang out in bars meeting jerks, when the really nice folks are all at volunteer events. I digress. To volunteer, call (718) 965-8960, or e-mail volunteers@prospectpark.org.

and, that night: Prospect Park Ball, 6:30 p.m. to midnight at the Carousel. This benefit for the Prospect Park Alliance sounds delightful (dinner and dancing under a tent, carousel rides in cocktail dresses!), and is absolutely what I'd do if I had $350 to toss around. Daughter and I just rode the Carousel this afternoon, and it rocked even without cocktails.

October 25: Haunted Walk and Carnival! Free from noon to 3 p.m., an extravaganza on the Nethermead. This particularly intrigued me: "Volunteers are needed to dress up and be scary, prepare meals for performers, assist with carnival games, load the sets, and much more."  (Call number above.) Costume suggestions, anyone? Sarah Palin will be very overdone; how about Marty Markowitz?

What's missing in this picture?

This is not just the lake shore of Prospect Park--it's the southern shore, where the wild things are, and where unspeakable objects bob around in the muck. But not today; today, the unspeakable things have been captured, bagged, and tagged. Why, here's a glimpse inside one of those very bags.

Today was International Coastal Cleanup Day, and the park doled out pole nets, nastiness-grabbers, and gloves to a host of volunteers under the auspices of the Together Green campaign. The shore was aswarm with earnest young people who spent only part of their time accosting one another playfully with their dripping tools.

This team included corporate execs from Toyota, one of the event sponsors. Some teams were as simple as parent and child.

Each team had a clipboard upon which to inventory what kinds of junk they fished out of the water. This one includes "coconut, orange, diaper, paintroller, mop, Tupperware, hubcap." Other participants reported the following among their trophies: a tire, half a bicycle, some drug packets (almost entirely empty, but not quite), three knives, a Spiderman costume, and a barbecue grill. One team noted that abandoned pants and alcoholic beverage bottles seemed to be frequent fellow travelers.

No one, thank God, found a body*, and I heard no reports of anyone finding a gun. So much for Brooklyn stereotypes.

*See comments, below, for a superb exception.










You lazy lot, drifting about on your paddle boats and webbed feet; have you any idea how hard some people worked to clean up your playground today?

Midsummer's leave

Early April was the last time we cheated on Prospect Park and snuck across Flatbush Avenue to the manicured sanctuary of the Brooklyn Botanic Garden, so it seemed time for another liaison. But never a dangerous one; the BBG is as serene and disciplined as the park is fractious and unpredictable.

Sitting on the grass is forbidden on most of the greensward; these artists got away with some transgressive sketching of the perennial border. I briefly reclined to take a picture of a willow from ground level; in seconds, a guard stopped his cart and started towards me as I scrambled to my feet. As a tour guide at BBG, I used to tell kids, "This is not a park. It's a more like a museum for plants." 

 

 

In this museum, it is very tempting to pick the exhibits, or fling yourself into them.

An audacious catbird seemed eager for some attention. They get their name from their mewing cry, but this guy kept mum.

I stopped to pay homage to the most noble Ent in the garden, the Caucasian Wingnut (a species I like to call "my family tree"). Perhaps this Ent is named Threetrunk; it isn't saying.  But it was festooned with twirly streamers. 

These little ones were wending their way to the Rose Garden. And I am wending my way to Colorado to visit beloved family, hike the Rockies, and gaze upon the prairies for a week. Please keep Prospect Park company in my absence. As luck would have it, I will be missing a ton of nifty summer stuff this week:

Saturday, July 12, 7:30 p.m. "Maverick singer-songwriter" Beth Orton "blending folk with trip hop" (whatever that is) at the Celebrate Brooklyn bandshell.

Monday, July 14, 8 p.m. The New York Philharmonic will waft Mozart, Beethoven, and Sibelius's Finlandia over the Long Meadow, followed by fireworks.

Wednesday, July 16 through July 20. The Macy's fishing contest, held lakeside at the Audubon Center and all free, has been a Brooklyn tradition since 1947. Presumably, part of that tradition is explaining to the kids that you have to throw them back.

Thursday, July 17, 7:30 p.m. Back at the bandshell, one Jerry Douglas, "dobro's matchless contemporary master," is teamed with the Holmes Brothers, who are said to connect "roadhouse rock...to gospel fervor." Sounds intriguing.

Friday, July 18, 7:30 p.m. You can't beat Celebrate Brooklyn for diversity: They round out the week with indie-rockers Deerhoof, described as "mercurial experimentalists." 

See you in a week, maybe sooner.

Messing about in boats

No park visit today—I was off bicycling around a distant shore in a curious land called New Jersey—but it sounds as if tomorrow will be a finer day for pastoral frolics anyway. And it will be the first day for renting pedal boats on the lake. Pedal-boating is clumsy, surprisingly strenuous (unless you don't mind just drifting), and a ridiculous lot of fun for $15 an hour.

Speaking of ridiculous, the park's archives reveal a short-lived phenomenon called the "rotary yacht" (or, in the ad below, the "circular yacht"). According to its inventor, David R. Smith, this aquatic contraption was constructed like a circular trough, four feet wide and two feet deep and 75 feet in diameter; it was retained in position by ropes running to a central pivot, and propelled by both sails and oars. "The yacht has nine masts and nine sails," Smith told the Brooklyn Eagle in July, 1878, "is divided into 18 compartments, and will hold, when crowded, 220."

Smith gave this description in an inquest into a tragic drowning off the rotary yacht. A "colored boy" by the name of Henry Ruffin had slipped into the water, noticed only by his brother Jason, and perished in the ensuing confusion. "The boy was on the excursion of the Concord Baptist Church of Christ (colored)," reported the Eagle, noting that three of the jury members were "colored citizens." Although the death was ruled accidental with no charges of negligence made, it appeared to have merited significant media coverage and a thorough investigation, despite the demeaning language of the era's journalistic conventions.

So if you pedal-boat tomorrow, spare a thought for Henry, and keep the youngsters on deck.

"Believe me, my young friend, there is nothing—absolutely nothing—half so much worth doing as simply messing about in boats."

    Kenneth Grahame, The Wind in the Willows