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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)
As a Drummer and Drum Builder to the stars, Johnny Craviotto has been involved in the music business 
for nearly half a century. He began his professional playing career in the early 1960s and quickly progressed to touring and performing with such rock-and-roll legends as Ry Cooter, Buffy Sainte-Marie, Moby Grape, and Neil Young.
Legends: How’d you get interested in drums?
Johnny: My mother was a pianist, so there was always music in our house. By the time I was 12 I knew I wanted to be a drummer.
Legends: How did you hear about the Chelsea Hotel?
Johnny: I was jamming with some hippy guys and one of the guitar players knew Buffy Sainte-Marie. They had run into her on the beach in Hawaii. Buffy wanted to go from being a solo performer to having a trio, so during the first week of November 1968 I flew to New York for an audition with her. I auditioned for Buffy at the Chelsea on a stack of New York City phonebooks with sticks and brushes. She said, “It sounds great. You’re hired.”
Legends: How’d you score your room at the Chelsea?
Johnny: Before we moved to New York we had gone to the Fillmore in San Francisco to see Rod Stewart and while we were at the concert our car was broken into and all of our bags and stuff were stolen. We then got on a 2 a.m. flight to New York. When we arrived, Stanley Bard was in the lobby. I told him, “we’ve got no money and no clothes.” He looked at us kind of funny, as if to say, “You mean to tell me you came to New York with no money and no clothes?” But he gave us a room. I went straight out of the mountains of Santa Cruz to 23rd Street and the famous Chelsea Hotel.
Legends: Can you describe the Vibe of the Hotel at the time?
Johnny: We moved into the Chelsea in Jan 1, 1969. Holy Moses! I can’t even begin to describe the vibe in 
the lobby. It was really rock & roll. There would be a surprise every time you got off of the elevator. You’d find Jimi Hendrix and Janis Joplin hanging out, or the Grateful Dead just sitting around in the lobby. I think the owners of the Fillmore East had a deal with the Chelsea whereby they put up the musicians at the hotel when they came to New York to perform. Anyway, I hope these new people don’t try to modernize the lobby. Can’t you guys say “NO MALL in this joint!” (Photo: Janis Joplin at the Fillmore East in 1968)
Legends: We’ve heard that Leonard Cohen drove everybody crazy with all his incense. Do you know anything about this?
Johnny: Buffy Sainte-Marie set us up in a room with a kitchenette & a fireplace right next door to Leonard. And yes, now that you mention it, he did burn a lot of incense. I didn’t know who Leonard Cohen was from Adam when Marie introduced me to him. After I got to know him, one time he took me to a Turkish coffee shop. You had to climb three flights up the fire escape and go through the window to get inside. There were all of these little 
old Turkish guys sitting around smoking and drinking some really strong espresso.
Legends: Did you get to Hobnob with any other celebrities?
Johnny: I was 21 or 22 years old and everything was like a whirlwind. Honey, I saw Joe Crocker & The Grease Band the very first time he ever performed in the U.S. That was at Stephen Paul’s The Scene. I went to a lot of jazz clubs. Slugs in the East Village and the Village Vanguard were great. Vanguard Studios was next door to El Quixote and that was where everybody went to record. (Maynard Solomon was the owner) So that accounted for a lot of the musicians hanging out at the Chelsea. We used to go down to El Quixote and get drunk. How’s the Sangria these days? Is it still as good as it used to be? [Editor’s note: yeah, it’s holding up pretty well] (Photo: Jimi Hendrix at the Fillmore East in 1968)
Legends: How has the Chelsea changed since you lived here?
Johnny: We moved out of the Chelsea when Buffy went to LA to record a semi-rock album with Jack 
Nitzsche, the guy the Rolling Stones’ song “Jumping Jack Flash” is about. We moved back to the Chelsea in 1971, and though it was still great, I didn’t see Leonard around anymore. We did a lot of concerts upstate and in Europe, but the Chelsea was always our homebase. But once the Fillmore East closed, the vibe at the Chelsea changed. It wasn’t as vibrant a place for musicians to hang out. After the Fillmore closed you stopped seeing people like the Allman brothers in the lobby. Soon, Buffy wanted to go in a different direction, so I moved back to the Sunset Marquee in LA [Editor’s Note: another famous rock & roll hotel] and that was the end of the Chelsea for me. I’ve never been back since. I went on to work with Ry Cooter on his first solo album. He was demanding, but a great artist.
Buffy Sainte Marie performs her hit "Universal Soldier" in 1970.
In the good ol' days, if you wanted to live here, you just brought in your art portfolio and showed it to Stanley Bard. Now the rules are less clear. Here's one strategy. How about it BD? 
UPDATE -- According to a tipster, Jerry Weinstein has been told by NEW MANAGEMENT that he is no 
longer personally allowed to accept reservations. (Photo: AFP, Jerry a few days after the ouster.)
I thought I had stepped into the twilight zone on Wednesday when I got home from work and didn’t recognize a single face behind the front desk. Typically, when I get home, it’s either Robert and Robert, or 
Robert and Jerome. But on Wednesday there were three young people behind the desk: Juan, who has been around for a few weeks, and two young women whom I’ve never seen before. Then, on Thursday there was a new guy holding open the front door (a doorman?) and more new people behind the front desk. Oh well, I suppose we’ll find out their names when the holidays roll around and we get a little list in our boxes. (lobby photo - ecstatictyler)
This place is swiftly becoming corporatized, and it’s a damn shame on a number of levels. But allow me to digress for a moment and tell you a little story:
On Tuesday, while I was hanging around waiting for the elevator a well dressed older woman and her friend 
walked up to me and asked “Does anyone know who the sculptor was who did sculptures of presidents?” I said you’re probably thinking of long-time Chelsea Hotel resident Rene Shapshak. She immediately recognized the name. “Is he gone,” she asked. “He and his wife are both dead,” I replied. “That’s what I meant by ‘gone’,” she said. She then went on to tell me that when she was a young woman she had set for Shapshak and he had sculpted her. (Now she was wondering what ever happened to that sculpture.) I directed her to Shapshak’s bust of Truman on the lobby mantle and she was thrilled to see it. (Photo: Former President Truman poses for Rene Shapshak)
The point I’m trying to make is: who among all of these new people has the knowledge or cares to acquire the knowledge, to carry on the oral traditions and recount the legends of the hotel on a daily basis? A plaque on the wall is nice but what people really want is to talk to somebody (preferably Stanley and/or David) who knew the artists and can tell their stories. That’s what Bohemia is all about: it’s a living, ongoing tradition.
Besides that, we can’t help wondering where is all of this money coming from to pay all of this additional staff. On the other hand, it’s worth mentioning that none of them seem very old, so they probably aren’t making as much as the folks who are in a union and who have been around for a while. Could this be the gradual changing of the guard? --DM
Bettina sends this cabbage flower to all the good people of the Chelsea Hotel! And wishes everyone a Happy New Year. (It's also Betinna's birthday).
Historian Sherill Tippins, who’s becoming a regular contributor, excavated this little gem from composer Virgil Thomsons’ archives at Yale. Though at the present time, due to the hostile take over we are more interested in rent receipts. Readers who live in the hotel will recognize many of the characters from the good old days. Even now, 25 years later, some of them still work here. We tried to find author B. H. Williams, but couldn’t locate him. I’m sure somebody out there knows of B. H.’s whereabouts so if you do let us know. Gerald Busby, composer Thomson’s protégé and long time friend, speculates that B. H. may have been one of the many admirers who were always sending Thomson gifts.
Poem—"Chelsea Hotel," by B. H. Williams 1982
Stanley manages the hotel
And smiles at all his guests;
And with one hand in your pocket
He says 'For you, the very best;
Now, have a pleasant stay
And we hope everything goes well
Because no one really ever leaves
The Chelsea Hotel.
Jerry's the comedian
Who works behind the desk
He's in charge of checking in
And checking out the guests;
"And if there's anything I can do,"
He says, "Please ring my bell;
We want you staying here forever
At the Chelsea Hotel."
Herman works from four to twelve,
And Richard works at night;
And even if a light bulb burns out
John will get you another light;
And Charles will walk the dogs
And bring you coffee and Pell Mells;
So there's really never any reason to leave
The Chelsea Hotel
Dora's the housekeeper
With an army of friendly maids;
There's cousin Dee and Sister Loretta
Who make sure the beds get made;
And when Bernice is in the hall
It's always, 'Ain't today just well;
Honey, we just love having you here
At the Chelsea Hotel."
Amy's the operator
And she never misses a call;
And Josephine's pleasant voice
Is a blessing to us all,
'Good morning, love! Howe are you?
We hope that you slept well;
We're so happy to have you here
At the Chelsea Hotel.'
Now, Tex sits in the lobby,
And laughs at Einstein I and II;
'Boys,' he says, 'It's getting deep
I hope you brought your boots;'
He loves to sing his cowboy songs,
And he always has a tale to tell
Because Tex checked in forever
At the Chelsea Hotel.
Poets, artists, and musicians
Parade in by the score;
And, occasionally, somebody famous
Will walk through the front door;
And there stands Stanley Bard
Wishing everybody well,
"We hope you love your moments here
At the Chelsea Hotel."
Born & Drukier have trumpeted the fact that they have achieved the Chelsea’s high occupancy rate without slashing rates. But on the Chelsea Hotel website we see once again that they are advertising rooms for the bargain basement price of $119.00 a night, which I probably don’t need to tell you, is the lowest seen at the Chelsea in quite a few years. So who are they trying to fool, The Post and the public at large, or only prospective guests? We can’t help noticing that the $119 rate is “subject to availability,” so maybe it’s just never available.
We reported earlier about how BD Hotels was slashing rates on some of the rooms, but it appears 
they are making their money back by cutting out essential services. The following is from a column in The Guardian by Russell Brand. Is this guy joking or what? Sometimes it's hard to tell with these Brits:
When I phoned reception in the dead of night to ask for water, water, I was told: "There's a deli across the street." In Maslow's hierarchy of needs water is right there with shelter and excretion at the pyramid's foundation; they may as well dispense with the toilet and the building; they could just have a bellhop stood in the street charging you $200 a night for crapping in the gutter and snuggling up with Oscar the Grouch. Comprised neatly in this scenario is the perennial issue of the romantic versus the pragmatic - you don't stay at the Chelsea for room service, you stay because you're renting a little counter-cultural history for the night.
As far as we know, all of the rooms at the Chelsea are supplied with New York State tap water, which they tell us, ranks among the countries finest. Of course, you do have to get out of bed and turn on the facet. But isn't that easier than calling down stairs and asking them to bring you a bottle of water. Sure, the Chelsesa is a "bloody Dump," but author Brand must be a bloody cripple.
On the other hand, Brand does have it right about why people stay at the Chelsea: "to rent a little counter cultural history for the night." (BD should keep this firmly in mind.) And Leonard and Janis were lucky to even have sheets on their bed. -- Ed Hamilton
We received the following comment and questions from a Dutch reporter:
I am a dutch reporter for the magazine HP/De Tijd. I am following this daily blog because of the change at the Chelsea. A new management has been installed since June. There are a lot of rumours going around in the papers, television and even here, in the tiny Netherlands.
But for now, nothing seems to have changed. Ok Bard is gone, but that's all for now.
The fact that the Bard family is no longer managing the hotel is in fact a critical change. The Bard family is responsible for making the hotel what it is, a haven for creative minded individuals. Though some of us have had our differences with Stanley Bard we realize that he and the rest of the Bard family are necessary for the hotel to continue as the cultural mecca it has become. Anybody who thinks the Chelsea Hotel will remain unchanged without the Bard family is kidding themselves.
Can you give me some examples of what has changed since the new management has taken their place behind the desk?
Not that much has changed outwardly. BD Hotels partitioned the Grand Ballroom and turned it into office space, and they have been renovating a bathroom for an unusually long time, but that’s the only construction we know they have been doing. We know they are planning to terminate the leases of all retail tenants, though they may not be able to get away with it in all cases (for instance, El Quijote, the Spanish restaurant that has been in the Chelsea for 70 years, has a very long lease). Though they claim they are going to fix the place up, restoring the historical detail, they have, in reality, been allowing the hotel to deteriorate, refusing to take care of the famous cast iron staircase, for instance, allowing pieces of it to be stolen for souvenirs.
At the present time there seems to be a deep confusion, among residents, staff, and even the new management itself, as to who is actually in charge. The needs of the residents, especially the elderly and marginal residents, are not being met, and nobody knows to whom we should address these concerns.
Even more significantly, the vibe of the hotel has changed. BD has been slashing rates to some of the rooms in an attempt to achieve a high occupancy rate (probably for some sort for financial scheme), and they’ve been filling the rooms with tourists—booked over the internet-- who know nothing of the Chelsea. The transient population has always been a big part of the élan of the hotel, and it has usually been composed of artists, musicians and others who value the history of the Chelsea. Besides this, and though it’s hard to describe, it’s just not the same place with a soulless corporation in charge.
What do you think that will happen to the Chelsea? Will it become something like the Gramercy park Hotel? Will they plan a complete turn-over? Tell me about your concerns.
The hotel is being run by a corporation, and as always with a corporation, the goal will be to maximize profits. (As a matter of fact they were brought in by the minority shareholders because the millions the Bard family were making for them were apparently not enough.) In New York at the present moment, with the overheated real estate market, that means getting rid of rent stabilized tenants so that the apartments can be rented at market rate or sold as condos. There are several different techniques that corporations use to achieve this end, including doing unnecessary construction, offering buyouts, and challenging “illegal” tenants (often the challenge is made on a flimsy pretext). There are also other financial schemes that can be employed using mortgages and the courts, and we are watching the situation closely to see if BD makes any moves in this context. And even if BD decides not to evict any tenants, they aren’t letting any new ones in, and so that spells the death knell for the Chelsea right there.
Ethan Hawke's NY1:One on 1 interview which was taped in the lobby of the Chelsea Hotel aired last week. As you may recall, while Hawke was here to shoot the interview he took the time to question the new management about their intentions. Hawke talks about his sighting at the Chelsea as reported by Gawker Stalker (he does not seem to approve of such intrusive blogging operations), and about his supposedly "experimental" film Chelsea Walls (well that explains that; we thought it was just bad). He also reveals that he wrote his second novel Ash Wednesday while in residence at the Chelsea, so run right out and buy it!
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Historian Sherill Tippins once again steps up to the plate to provide Legends with invaluable information 
about the early history of the Chelsea. She seems to be the only one in existance who knows this stuff, and we all owe her a debt of gratitude for dragging it back from obscurity into the light of day where it belongs. Yes indeed visions are clearer at the Chelsea!
I found this poem in Google books and thought it was kind of funny, so I'm sending it to you.
It was inspired by the Chelsea Hotel roof. It was published in 1915 in Reveries of a Busy Barrister by
General Stillman F. Kneeland, a Union Army general, lawyer, Progressive, art collector, amateur artist and poet, who lived at the Chelsea from at least 1912-1922. He put some of his paintings up for sale in 1913, according to the Times--including, apparently, a Rembrandt (it sold for $650), a Whistler, and a Gainsborough. In 1922, when he was 77, he remarried--to the 70-year-old widow of the artist Eastman Johnson, and they moved to the country. There's a picture of him in the Google book online. He has lots of medals! His preface for the book is signed, "Chelsea Hotel, December 15, 1914."
ROOFLAND
On the heights of Roofland, bounded
By a river and river and bay,
With the glory of twilight surrounded,
We muse and we dream and we pray:--
For visions are clearer,
And God seems nearer,
On the heights at the close of day.
There throned on the throne of man's making,
And crowned by the stars above;
With the light of the moon just breaking,
Over housetop, and highland,and cove:--
Our hearts are glee,
And our souls are free,--
For we live in the halo of love.
The night grows gray as we linger
And music fills the street;
But we heed not the song, or the singer,
Or the rhythmical patter of feet:
For our souls are in tune
With the gay old moon,
And our little world is complete.
Ah! Sadly these lines have confounded
The past and the present with me;
The Metropilis now is bounded
By a river, a sound and a sea;
And the scene may be grander,
As the moonlight splendor,
Bursts over the distant lea.
But my heart it is sad to the breaking,
As the shadows flit over the bay;
On the heights of Roofland, forsaken,
I muse, and I mourn, and I pray:--
For it hath come to pass
That my bonnie wee lass,
Forever hath passed away.
No guiding hand, no soul to pity,
No hope, no light, no cheer,
The throbbing heart of the gay old city,
Seems cold, and dead, and drear;
Warm blood may flow
In the homes below,
But not, dear Lord, not here.
Avaunt! This is Rooofland, and higher
Than the realms of sorrow and strife;
And our souls are wondrously nigher,
When freed from the fetters of life:
Up here in God's glory,
We'll repeat the old story,
My darling! My angel! My wife!
Our illustrious proprietor Stanley Bard paid a visit to the hotel last Thursday, and apparently
decided to take the opportunity to do some house cleaning. I was across the street dining at the Pita Hut when I noticed several of my Bohemian comrades from the Chelsea going through the boxes of trash that had accumulated on 23rd Street by that evening. Never one to pass on any opportunity to get something for free, I quickly scarfed down the rest of my sandwich and dodged traffic in a beeline to the rubbish pile. My fellow scavengers were rummaging through boxes of old art books – most of which seem to be in foreign language – and speculating as to who could have discarded such treasures. What we eventually discovered was that most of the books contained a section on the Chelsea Hotel! The books and magazine had apparently been given by their authors to Stanley over the years. Since the early trash-picking bird get the worm, most of the better books had been snatched up before I arrived. But here’s a representative sample of the leftovers, in what I take to be Italian and Japanese.
Hopefully Stanley hasn’t thrown out the rest of his archives. I searched in vain for a box of old rent receipts; Alas. -- Ed Hamilton
Legend has it that on August 10, 1967 the Grateful Dead played a concert on the roof of the Chelsea Hotel. Flash forward 40 years and check out this concert by San Francisco singer/songwriter John Vanderslice.
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