Surprise Revelation: That Stained Glass...

Here in Windsor Terrace layers of history are being revealed as a former pet supplies store gets fitted for a new future. I've heard reports that it will be a liquor store. Will they keep that stained glass? Well, now that everyone is so excited about it, and indeed we are, I hope they do.

It was exciting to see that underneath that beloved sign



















was this:
















The stained glass was revealed about a week ago, then boarded with plywood, and today, revealed again. And I happened to have my camera on hand.

I wonder if anyone knows how old either sign is. I believe the stained glass is a remnant of a place called Wetters, some sort of restaurant, a hangout for local kids maybe...around 30 years ago (?). The glass is mostly brown now, but in some patches, there remains a brilliant indigo. I wonder what sort of colors would be revealed with a good cleaning.

This comment, left on another post regarding the storefront on Windsor which was once the Asimov Candy store, gives me a sense of what it must have been like in the days of that sign:

It (the Asimov store at some point in history) was called "Buggy Bill's" and for a dime we could get a 7 cent chocolate soda in a filthy glass and a 3 cent "loosie" cigarette. One of the guys from the neighborhood worked for him and we would steal cases of socda from his basement for parties. We were about 12-14. When we went to high school, we would have our own cigarettes and hang out in Wetters on the avenue.Can't tell you what happened to Bill. Guess the lack of profit from our dimes drove him out of business.

See better pictures of the stained glass here. (Thanks, Vanessa!)

Here's the Container Diaries post about Wetters, with interesting comments like this one:

Maureen Rice(Flanagan)

I met the new owner at Joey Corrar’s wake, he told me he is going to preserve as much of the old signage as he can. He also told me that there will be a movie filming there soon. Nia Vardalos (?) from My Big Fat Greek Wedding is doing another movie, they expect to have the liquor store up and running by mid-july. He also attended the Mass for Joey, senior moment, I forgot his name, but he seemed like a nice guy.

Greetings from....the Luna Park Saloon

On Saturday we dropped my 5th grader off at Mark Twain for her various auditions and then sought out a way to kill a few hours with 2 very tired children on our hands. We spent a little time exploring the Coney Island strip malls on Neptune Avenue. I think the one where this photo was shot was called the Trump Plaza.

This sign caught my eye and my husbands as well, so I took a shot from the passenger's seat. Just as I was trying to frame the picture, and be discreet about, a man came out and said really loud "Hiya, Douche!" Or what sounded like that. I was astonished and asked my husband "Did you hear what he said to me?" "No, I think he was talking on his cel phone." "I didn't see a cel phone. How does he know I'm a douche?"

I guess it's not always a great idea to photograph people coming out of bars, but that wasn't my intention, I just wanted to take a picture of that lettering before it all fell off.

Later that weekend I was taking a picture of Mitchell's on Vanderbilt St when all the sudden people started coming out. I always assume, right or wrong, tht people don't really want a shutterbug right in their faces so I backed off. This woman came out in her Sunday best, wearing a grey silk hat with multiple teirs and vieling. She had on high heel shoes and a coat that came down to her ankles. I haven't seen a hat like that in a long time. I should have begged her to pose for me.

About those auditions, they really stressed my daughter out. Call me soft, but I think 10 years old is too young for that kind of pressure. I guess this is a rather performance oriented place to live.

Fedders Logo, Old Style

Key Food Wall Redone

It was a little like watching a manicure on a large scale, the stripping, the cleansing, the reinforcing, the recoating, the red reapplied. I found it far more exciting than I should have.

They were having problems with moisture leaking into the wall and causing the cement surface to crack. We have the same problem and I'm having people come over to give me estimates for repairs on Monday. Please let me know if you can recommend someone very good. The people that I spoke with didn't inspire my confidence.

This car, parked across the street from Key today, sure bounced some sunlight around. I included it because it seems to complement the Key Food wall aesthetic in some way.

Are Cuervos Grackles?

The first morning of our recent stay in Mexico we were woken early by birds making the oddest sounds on the roof of our palapa; they sounded like experimental violinists one second, the next they were purely percussion. From the string of animated sounds I was hearing I was imagining the most colorful tropical birds.

Later I saw the source of the noise, birds black as oil with yellow eyes, whose bodies seemed boneless as they contorted their necks into positions far more expressive than I was expecting. When in flight they seemed held aloft more from their own flimsiness than any power of wing, their feathers scant as they flopped through the air like burned rags.

I was enchanted by those creepy birds. I kept asking people what they were in my poor Spanish. I was told they were parritos, palomas, and finally cuervos. The bartender was the one who told me this while slowly underlining the word Cuervo on the bottle of tequila he was holding. I understand that cuervo means crow, and these birds had neither the size or density of crows, and certainly a range of notes and gestures far exceeding their Northern brothers.

I kept meaning to look them up in a book but now I believe I won't have to, Daniel Meeter wrote about grackles the other day, and I'm hoping that's what they are because grackle is a good word for those strange birds. They were all over the place in the Yucatan. And now they're here.

Coney Island Ave Liquor Store

This seems to have gone out of business. I'd love to know how old this sign is and who made it. In some way it seems perfect, but what way is that?

Laundrette on 9th

I was surprised by the beauty of this laundromat on 9th St. in Park Slope. Almost makes me wish my dryer would break. This is the Naomi Campbell of the laundromats I've been in so far. More pictures at the Museum of Laundry.

Fields No More

Driving by this liquor store on 16th St. the other day I had a moment of panic because there was brown paper up over the windows and a little sign that said closed. It hit me hard because I had such a good feeling about that place. I wanted to go talk to the kind elderly man that ran it and document his old store, but I never got the chance.

Later I drove by the place and saw that the paper was gone, the store was open, and it looked exactly the same. I calmed down about missing my chance but began to doubt my sanity.

Today I got a chance to go in and ask. Sure enough, there had been paper on the windows, apparently the place changed hands when the previous owner retired. The new people seemed very nice but I think I annoyed them a bit going on and on about how I loved the old place and saying things like "you're not going to change ANYTHING right?" The man I was speaking to started to look a little pale, not as happy as he had been to begin with. He kept saying "We're going to bring in some really great new wines..." At one point he seemed to be asking me if it were OK if they brought in some new wines...I guess I come on too strong at times. I would love to learn to relax. It's actually really great that the previous owner found people ready to leap in and take over his business, I'd be even more sad to see this place standing empty like the old Universal Video space.

They are changing the name to something like Windsor Wine and Liquor. But will they take that beautiful sign down? It's a free country of course but can they really do better than use what they already have? No one's asking me but I'll tell you anyway- they are lucky to have that gorgeous sign, which the pictures in this post really don't do justice to.

The Juice Box Sign

One of the things I loved about Mexico was seeing signs hand-painted right on the buildings, on the cement spread over the cinder block. It was nice to get back and see what Juice Box had done for their sign. At first I thought it strange that Juice Box is a little hard to read, it's right on top of some of the juice drops. But now it seems nice to catch a break from all the overstated things in the world. And I want to like it because they didn't take the safe route and get a forest green or burgundy awning sign like many places would have. And they didn't go with one of the ultra slim and minimal fonts that seem to always turn up but trotted out these hefty letters sporting their chunky mojo.

The line of drops are what dominate the sign however, and you could almost imagine the sign with only the drops, I think it would still get the point across. They are painted with a contrast of blobbiness and delicacy I find compelling, and in my addled mind they plink like piano keys as my eyes run across them.

Thanks to Juice Box I've had the strange experience of actually enjoying a new sign. It is such an odd feeling because I'm so used to being disappointed. But Spitzer has more than made up for my little break.

Respect for the Condemned

Feel the Rush

Rush stands where Bargainland used to; I was so pleased to find a great picture of that place at the Bridge and Tunnel Club. I remember it with affection although I'm not sure why now, and a friend even named her band after it so I guess it had its charm.

I'm usually too overwhelmed by the Rush sign to shop there but I got over there this week when my son's teacher requested dollar store rolls of masking tape. I got two rolls for $1.49. On the way in I noticed that the sign used a particularly full version of Cooper, a font that is always full and cheerful and pleasant enough to appear pretty much everywhere you look. Seldom does it look as full though. I've said in the past that it reminds me of healthy chubby babies with fullness of cheek and limb. Here the letters aren't swollen with baby sweetness but rather with the angularity of the good old stars and stripes, shop 'til you drop America.

It's good to have a place where you can get stuff so cheap but not so good once you discover how it is possible to make stuff so cheaply. That's why I rarely shop there, I'd really rather not buy anything new if I have to. But tape isn't one of those things you can get used. I'm trying to have a better attitude about it though. Because I discovered that the cashier there is a woman I know, a woman whose son went to Pre-K with my daughter, a woman who is extremely kind and friendly. A woman who once gave me a set of Indian clothes for free simply because I had complimented her kurta. And she needs to make a living, right, I imagine, and feed her family. Why do things have to be so complicated?

Delicatessen Delicatessen

Delicastessen is sort of a pretty word, I haven't consciously seen the word in so long I might as well have believed the word Deli had no parent. It sounds German. It is especially nice to see the word unabbreviated and elegantly hand-painted in raisin on this old sign on the corner of Prospect Avenue and Prospect Park West. It fosters one of those "time travel" moments, especially with the aid of photoshop.

Wonder Bread Truck at Key Food

When I was vacationing with the family in the Yucatan I saw a fellow gringo tourist wearing a bikini with a pattern so similar to the wonder bread look that I kept doing a double take. Does a wonder bread bikini exist? I hope so. There's something resonant about that, especially in an economy dependent on the liberal spending of wealthy visitors from the North.

4th Avenue Burner and Heating

Honestly I will be very happy when I can get by without a car but that time is not now. Luckily I am finding things to love on those somewhat desolate and overpowering avenues that bear fuel stations, Coney Island Ave. and 4th Ave.

Driving down 4th Avenue on Monday the sun was striking this sign that I had never noticed before even though I have actually written about things on the same block. I was listening to a segment about power shortages in Iraq, specifically, an incident in a place called Amarillo where 3 hospitalized children had died because the power was off at the hosptial for three days even though it was supposed to be turned on every other day. Apparently an official had demanded power for a meeting he was having so the hospital had to compensate for that usage. This is the story I heard on NPR moments before filling up my gas tank entirely at the Hess station.

I learned from the 4th Ave Burner manager Joe that the sign was hand painted by David Smirnoff of David Signs, located on Coney Island Ave, a little over 10 years ago. It seems older than that, have styles changed so much in such a short time? Housed in the front window of the store is a vintage drill press from the retooling outfit they used to have in the back for rehabilitating burners and heaters, back in the days before the disposable economy held sway. Note the umlaut over the o in the word Buffalo on the drill, is that word German? At least it's got only 2 dots.

We have it good here, no matter what pretentious things people want to do with umlauts, now or back in the day.

Greenwood Avenue Storefronts

I know I'm not going to win much sympathy by complaining that I'm going to Mexico tomorrow, specifically to a resort called Shangri-La. Truly, I'd rather stay here and take pictures of the storefronts of Brooklyn. Dry your eyes, I'll be OK. But I do really like this blogging business, probably a little too much.

Here are two old markets on Greenwood, Blondie's, on the Park side of the Expressway and the Greenwood Deli and Grocery on the cemetery side. I used to live around the corner from Blondie's and I fondly remember discovering Lemon Coolers there, those melt in your mouth drop shaped cookies laced with powdered sugar and just enough lemony tang. Ah. Haven't seen those for sale anywhere else, perhaps they're not made anymore.

Even though I know Blondie's isn't run by a Blondie, I still manage to expect I'm going to be rung up by a statuesque woman with a blond beehive everytime I go in there.

I've only been in the Greenwood Deli and Grocery once. When I complimented them on their sign, they asked me if I wanted to buy it. I said I didn't, I just liked it. I wonder how much they would ask for it. A guy in the store made fun of me for my fuss about the sign, saying "yeah, it's groovy." I guess he pegged me for some transplant trying to impose her aesthetic on the neighborhood. Good thing I don't live elsewhere, because I would really be swimming upstream. Here in Brooklyn, I'm always finding things to love, things that aren't contrived or perfect, things that show traces of the individuality of the human hands that made them. Signs of the excitement people once had or now have about their unique enterprises. Sometimes when I squint I can imagine I'm walking down a street painted by Maira Kalman and anything is possible. For instance, you could find a playhouse in a wine store or a group of Buddhists meditating in a bookstore.

We once had a Dominos Pizza franchise around the corner from Greenwood on Prospect Avenue. That was so out of place. It's long gone now.

Confusion About Cooper Black

Honestly, for some reason many sections of 7th Avenue in Park Slope give me a stuffy feeling. I'm not sure why that is, but gazing at the Ace Supermarket I suddenly got a feeling of air and freshness. It must be the sign, but by what alchemy of design did it restore my ability to breathe? Perhaps it's that dusty turquoise, a color that used to be popular for signs but now is all too often being replaced with the "safe" forest green or burgundy vinyl awning signs. That's exactly what happened to the old turquoise sign at the Royal Supermarket on the corner of 15th and 8th. Can you imagine the nightmare of walking around the slope seeing nothing but rivers of forest green awnings?

Or maybe the sign just has a feeling of spaciousness based on it's proportions. The typeface used to print "Ace Supermarket" is Cooper Black, I believe, and I for one like it. I'm not sure if it's because it's chubby like a healthy baby, or if it's paradoxically joyfully buoyant and weighted at the same time, like a particularly well-stocked store. Perhaps it's the vintage appeal, I know I've seen this succulent font in abundance since childhood, and that was a long time ago.

I imagined the typeface was named after a man, but then by coincidence some of my daughter's homework was lying on the floor and it discussed the ancient trade of building containers that held various provisions. A tradesman called a "tight cooper" made finely crafted vessels to hold liquids, a "slack cooper" made vessels for things less leaky like flour and tobacco, and a "white cooper" made containers from cedar or pine. Some of the types of containers these coopers made were firkin, kilderkin, hogshead, butt, rundlet, tierce, puncheon and pipe. I hope my daughter had fun with that vocabulary. I'm waiting to hear her use those words in casual conversation around the house.

Well, in spite of the astonishing coincidence, it turns out the typeface is not named after the trade but is named after its creator Oswald Bruce Cooper (via wikipedia.) But of course, his family name most likely derives from the trade. Either way, it's a typeface very befitting grocery stores. It has a pleasantly full look, which is nice because in this age of opulence and anorexia, it's hard to remember the depths of joy a full and well-made barrel of flour can inspire.

Here's a Behind the Type episode about Cooper Black. From it, I learned how the history of the typeface bears certain resemblances to the bio of Britney Spears.

Goodbye Washboard Launder Center?

I'm not sure what's going on but I peaked in the door as a workman entered and saw there were no longer any washing machines inside. I never washed any clothes there but I'm a big fan of that voluptuous L in Launder and that tiny washboard so easily overlooked on the the shingled "roof." Inside I saw white stucco walls crossed with dark beams like you'd find at The Swiss Chalet back when you could drop in for fondue.

Hair Fashions by Lin

How much longer will this salon on MacDonald Ave look like this? It's annoying not to see the complete sign, the palette painted on the left is covered by the realtor's ad. Do people really want perfect computer generated lettering when the fallibility of the human hand can create something as beautiful as this? I guess it comes down to how much time people have to spend creating something, which isn't much when the cost of living is so high. And that's one reason why things made today look, um, like they do.

A Typographer Walks in Brooklyn

A lot of footwork went into Paul Shaw's article for AIGA, Lettering Grows in Brooklyn, published on Wednesday. It was with shivers of excitement that I took the virtual tour of the borough with Mr. Shaw, learning typographical references like versal, uncial, and batarde, feeling insecure about my monumental ignorance, but bolstered by the occasional typo. The article discusses 5 or 6 examples of lettering found in a wide smattering of Brooklyn neighborhoods including East Williamsburg, Bushwick, Greenpoint, Clinton Hill, Fort Greene, Downtown Brooklyn, Brooklyn Heights, Brighton Beach, Coney Island, Bensonhurst, Bath Beach, Bay Ridge, Dyker Heights and Sunset Park. (Next time drop by Windsor Terrace and tell us your thoughts about the George's Haircutting sign, oh please.)

It is not a surprise that someone would be driven to write an article which savors the craftmanship that formerly went into lettering as the newer examples are so lifeless. Paul Shaw notes that "websites devoted to ghost signs seem to be a growth industry," later expanding on that topic when he writes "Ghost signs are not only reminders of past products and services but they are examples of sign painting, a once-thriving profession that is now under assault. For the past thirty years the design and fabrication of signs has been increasing computerized." That is one valid soap box.

I found this article by way of craig's list; I noticed that someone living around the corner from me on 17th Street had a queen sized platform bed for sale. They turned out to graphic designers and writers who run an enterprise called Under Consideration, which offers several design blogs - Speak Up, Quipsology, (which linked to Shaw's article), Brand New and The Encyclopedia of Design. So the platform bed came with 3 drawers and 4 blogs. I love those craig's list extras!

Lava Soap at Met Food

The Met Food on 5th Avenue in South Slope sells this Lava Soap, which stands out because it's rare for red to be used in soap packaging, it doesn't scream "clean!" But it does say "hot," and I'm wondering if the soap can make me hot like lava. That would be so much cheaper than surgery. Can soap do that? And can soap really come from a volcano, which I associate with things that aren't water soluble? Why, yes, yes it can. It can because of the exfoliating properties of the floating wonder rock we call pumice.

I'm sure Brooklyn residents will be very happy to note that they can choose a beautifully packaged bar of Lava soap with or without the Nascar endorsement.

Here's what Lava used to look like.