Brooklyn Label, the French corner restaurant in Greenpoint’s historic Astral Building that closed last year, is going to be revived. Now under new management, it will return from the dead with a little help from Le Gamin, another beloved French bistro located in Greenpoint.
Tomorrow at 2pm, Theater for the New City premieres this year’s iteration of its annual series of free summer theater. The “boisterous, multi-ethnic, hope-filled, full stage operetta for the street” is called Checks and Balances, or Bottoms Up! and shit’s gonna get political.
Featuring a puppet Pumpkin Head of State with “long orange arms and small hands that push the others around,” a head of the Environmental Protection Agency who applauds the Dakota Access Pipeline and a secretary of education who shuts down public schools, the musical’s critique of the country’s current affairs is not an attempt to be subtle. “We are here to inspire activists and those of us who are not activists, but who agree,” director Crystal Field said, “It’s a West Wing political musical for the family, but in the Bernie Sanders mode.”
Remember the floating pool that garnered a boatful of attention when it was proposed by some friends way back in 2011? Since then it has become one of those things things, like the Lowline, draws inevitable responses of: “Oh yeaaah, whatever happened to that?” Turns out the folks at +Pool are still trying to make their dream of swimming in the East River a reality, and now they’ve got the support of not just Neil Patrick Harris but also Heineken, the same folks who got behind James Murphy of LCD Soundsystem’s quixotic quest to symphonize the subway turnstiles. Together, they’ve all released a new mini doc and VR promo, with Harris as narrator, that allows you to plunge into a virtual version of the plus-shaped pool.
As you can see here, the pool offers of a good number of daybeds for lounging and canoodling, or just catching up on the New Yorker now that they’re throwing the word “cock” around.
A group of city officials and local residents gathered today at the East Broadway subway station as part of a publicity tour calling attention to New York City’s deteriorating public transit system.
Most of New York City’s remaining pay phones are just there to be pissed on, but this one is for people who are pissed off. The Standard, High Line has installed a custom phone booth that connects users with their local elected officials. Ring Your Rep, as the project is called, can now be found on the hotel’s plaza, in the Meatpacking District. That’s right, the Meatpacking District. Just imagine how many “u up?” calls Chucky Schumer is about to get.
Don’t pour out that sangria just yet.
Last week, we brought word that Francisco’s Centro Vasco had suddenly closed after 38 years in Chelsea, bringing down the curtains on one of the city’s remaining old-school Spanish spots. A note on the door informed customers that the closure would be permanent, and owner Javier Quintans told DNAinfo that he planned to sell the restaurant space and the building. The obligatory Jeremiah’s Vanishing eulogy followed.
While the United States ratcheted up sanctions on Russia, a crowd of Russians and Americans alike came together on a Williamsburg rooftop last night to participate in the most universal of pastimes: staring at highway wrecks.
At the Rooftop Films screening of The Road Movie, bartenders poured so-called Russian Road Kills. The drink was a cheeky nod to Dmitrii Kalashnikov’s film, which gathers over an hour of Russian dashboard cam footage, running the gamut from horrifying collisions to car-on-bear chases to negotiations with roadside prostitutes (no, pee play was not discussed). The footage that appears in the film had previously been posted online, so watching it strung together with minimal editing was something akin to disappearing down a YouTube wormhole on a lazy Sunday. Even the breathtaking view from the William Vale’s rooftop was no competition for the surreal landscapes on screen: apocalyptic forest fires, harrowing snowstorms, and comets shooting over sepia-toned cityscapes.
We reported last week that beloved Cajun eatery and longtime Bowery hangout Great Jones Cafe was temporarily shutting down — and, according to cryptic information from an employee, would or would not return. Fearing that the Great Jones had become yet the latest victim of rising rents, New Yorkers swarmed onto social media to pay their respects and lament the loss of a neighborhood institution that has served as an indispensable cultural hub for local artists, musicians, and writers — some of whom, like Basquiat, have become quite famous.
For the past years, Company XIV has twirled, leaped and pranced– and not just during their bawdy, outre reimaginings of Snow White and The Nutcracker. Ever since the circus-burlesque-opera ensemble lost their Gowanus home due to flooding in 2012, they’ve moved every season, performing at Colonnade Row in NoHo, at Minetta Lane Theatre in the West Village, at the Irondale Theatre in Fort Greene and, most recently, at the Slipper Room.
In his first book, Making Rent in Bed-Stuy (HarperCollins, 2017), New York-based writer and filmmaker Brandon Harris uses his memoir of “trying to make it in New York City” as the starting point for a complex, multi-layered discussion of race, class, and gentrification.