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On Thursday, Stanley Bard former Managing Dir. stopped by the book launch for Linda Troeller’s “Chelsea Hotel Atmosphere – An Artist’s Memoir”. There’s still time to check out Linda’s show at the Chelsea Hotel in room 914 during the POOL art fair on Sept 28th and 29th. For more about the book visit www.lindatroeller.com.
While hotel layabout David Elder was back sleeping on the lobby couch the other day, at least one of our 
dark lords was hard at work, writing memos and giving orders designed to regiment and control our previously carefree Bohemian existence. But just who is this larger-than-life figure who dares to take on the daunting task of whipping this anarchic cesspool of a community into shape? Our crack investigative reporters have unearthed the following, closely guarded, biographical data.
Glennon Travis is a 26-year-old eurotrash beachbum from St. Louis, Missouri, who enjoys hotels, travel, and drinking with friends. He is straight (Hey Girls!) but in a relationship (Awwwww!) and his favorite movie is Ferris Bueller’s Day Off.
Glennon received a degree in management from Tulane in 2003, and though he attended grad school in Hotel Management at Cornell, apparently he has yet to graduate. Hopefully he’s getting a few hours of credit for his work here.
“I think rooms control is an art,” Glennon says, advocating that, like the rest of us, he considers himself an artist of sorts. He is also a self-described “hip hotel junky” (usually spelled junkie, but I assume Glennon is harking back to the original title of Bill Lee/Burroughs first novel). We used to get a lot of these shooting up in our bathroom back in the 90s, so it should be no problem getting used to it again. It sounds like he’ll fit right in.
To learn more, visit Glennon on Myspace at www.myspace.com/eurotrashbeachbum and while your at it, request to be his friend. He only has 53 at this time, so in this, as in the management of the Chelsea, he will need our help. -- Ed Hamilton
The kid who was the subject of Monday's post has responded:
i was the kid and here's the real story everyone that kids say who the "heck was that person" a lot so i asked the front desk that because i like to know empoyees names so i can call them that and glennon pops out of the back thinking i said who the hell was that bitch and he changed what i said and i apoligized -- The Kid
All of the residents of the Hotel received a letter in their boxes late last week. Though it sounds like they 
just want to clean out the trash, the halls of the Chelsea have always had a more casual, lived-in feel to them. Some residents have turned the space outside their doors into pleasant little sitting rooms or galleries. Though we never let the place get so cluttered that people were tripping over things, Stanley was always tolerant of this kind of individual expressions. Furthermore, as many residents have enjoyed this privilege for years and even decades, they may well have legal standing to challenge BD’s Draconian edict. (Also, where’s the old stationary, this is the pits!)
In addition, work is now being done on the historic “Hotel Chelsea” neon sign that adorns the façade of the building. The workers have been not only cleaning, but also painting parts of the sign, (as you can see, they only painted the “Hot” on this side.) apparently with the goal of making it more reflective, so that the neon will shine brighter at night. I spoke with a resident involved in the restoration of the building, and 
he argued that they were cleaning up and restoring the building to its original grandeur, and that, as opposed to Stanley's policy of benevolent neglect, this new direction actually shows more respect for the building.
There is much to be said for this view and there is a part of me too that would like to see the place restored. On the other hand, however, it seems that the darkness and grit of the Chelsea is a large part of its charm. Sure, if something is falling apart it needs to be fixed – Stanley always recognized that. But what era is the Chelsea famous for? Surely not the 19th Century when it was a luxury apartment building. No more like the 50s of the Beats, the 60s of Warhol, and the 70s of the punks. “It looked like a flophouse before,” said my fellow resident. But in a sense, it was. That’s how all these artists could afford to live here. The Chelsea is the most famous flophouse in the world.
“You could hardly see the sign before,” my fellow resident said. But 23rd Street is not Times Square, nor – a certain giant pink cupcake notwithstanding – Disneyland. You could always see it well enough in its dark understated glory.
And besides all that, if this “beautification” campaign takes hold, sooner or later they are going to want some prettier, and richer, people to match the surroundings. -- Ed Hamilton
A reader just sent in this photo snapped in the elevator earlier today. It appears the reward has changed!
Things must have been really boring out in LA because our favorite Lovecraftian Abomination has returned to the Chelsea. The judge has yet to rule on the Piri Thomas case so the saga continues. Halloween is upon us. Time of ghostly doings. Will Sid & Nancy finally give him his just desert?
One of our fellow Chelsea Hotel residents received this bizarre and outrageous letter in her mailbox on Friday. As you might infer from its wrinkled condition, this resident crumpled it in disgust and threw it into the trash, and that’s where we found it. As, in addition to being an attempt to intimidate a particular family, the letter seems to articulate a general policy, we felt that it was important to share it 
with the rest of the Chelsea community. Parents, in particular, may be concerned to learn of the management’s disturbing attitude toward their children. (Click on the image to enlarge)
The impetus for this letter occurred on Friday, when the child in question was hanging out in the lobby unsupervised, as he or she has done off and on for perhaps a year (the child is nearing adolescence). A maid whom the child had not seen before walked by, apparently dancing around a bit as she walked. The child said something like, “Who the heck are you?” (the child’s version), or “Who the hell are you, you bitch?” (BD employee Glennon Travis’ version, repeated to the parent), and the maid apparently complained to Glennon that the child was being rude. (We decided it was best not to ask the maid to confirm or deny her employer’s statement, as that might put her in an awkward position.) Perhaps the child should be disciplined, but regardless of the form the statement took, it hardly seems justification for this sort of draconian measure.
The children of the Chelsea are residents too, and as such have certain rights, among them the right to enjoy the use of public areas such as the lobby and the halls. Glennon, whose official title is Director of Operations has reportedly been telling people recently that he is the manager of the Chelsea (actually, that’s David Bernstein’s title), but in this instance he is acting more like the dictator of a Banana Republic. No matter what his title, we don’t believe Glennon has the authority to tell parents what to do with their children; it’s up to the individual parents to decide when and under what conditions their children need supervision.
There seems to be a disturbing new trend emerging here: with this letter and with the recent edict that residents clear their belongings from the hallways (we address this issue tomorrow in a post written prior to this one), we see an apparent attempt to exert control over the common areas of the hotel. Does this mean children can’t play in the hallways? What next, a ban on animals in the hallways? A prohibition against loitering in the lobby? -- Ed Hamilton
For undertaking work without a permit in the Grand Ballroom, the management of the hotel has been fined
$250.00, according to a spokesperson at ECB (the hearing was held yesterday). Kudos to the Department of Buildings for showing up and taking an interest in what is going on in the Chelsea. Obviously, the fine is much too low to actually be punitive.
Remember Vlad, the scruffy looking fellow who used to play the guitar, grimacing as he did so, 
at the corner of 7th Ave. and 23rd. Well, he’s back. The reason he hadn’t been around for awhile was that some jerk complained about him and the cops had to give him a ticket and tell him to move along—even though they really didn’t want to. The problem was that Vlad was using an amplifier—a necessity for a guitar to be heard above the cacophony of
Anyway, thanks to the people at Dan’s guitar, a solution has been found. They lent Vlad a steel resonator guitar, which was designed to make a big noise in an era before amplified sound. Vlad’s new instrument looks really cool, is chrome-like finish flashing in the sunlight, and if anything actually sounds louder than the guitar-and-amp combo he had before. Best of all, since it’s not amplified, it’s perfectly legal. “First amendment and all,” Vlad says. The guitar looks like something an old Mississippi Bluesman would have played in back in the 20s, Blind Lemon Jefferson or somebody like that. “All I need now are dark glasses and dog,” Vlad jokes, glad to back where he belongs. -- Ed Hamilton
According to an article in The Observer, rock-and-roll hairstylist April Barton's rent on her salon, Suite 303, is being increa
sed to a whopping $30,000 a month! And she doesn't even have a storefront. Apparently BD (or their financial backers) thinks it can make more money renting the space nightly as a hotel room.
April has been here since 1995, becoming an integral part of the Chelsea dynamic, and it would be a shame to lose her. Luckily, her lease runs through September 2009, and who knows with will happen by that point. We could all be gone -- or BD itself could be gone!
Anyway, April is not alone. A couple of months ago we spoke with another retail tenant, Dentist Peter Ferro, about his plans for the future. We'll post that interview shortly.
(Photo: Chris Schott)
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