Who Will Save the Signs?

The plans for what it arguably Brooklyn's most high-profile condo complex, the one that will convert the old Domino Sugar Plant in Williamsburg into a conclave of happy shiny people, will not include the iconic "Domino Sugar" sign, the NY Sun reports. Not that anybody really thought it would. Developers aren't typically as whimsical and sentimental as the rest of us, and wouldn't see how such a thing would add value. But there was a little hope.

Which leads me to a perennial worry of mine: as the City goes through its current transformation from iconoclastic patchwork to developer's tinkertown, what's to become of the signs that once proclaimed "One guy with a particular idea does business here?" The matter is never discussed by the builders, who obviously see the neon placards as just another piece of junk to be disposed of, and not the relics and urban artwork of another New York. Last we saw of the McHale's sign, it was in the window of some antique store; Lord knows where it landed. The owner of Gertel's nabbed his own sign for himself and hung it up over his wholesale concern in Brooklyn, thank God. But how often can we count on businesspeople to value their old signage?

Along with the Domino sign, other priceless signs whose fate we should be worrying about include the P & G Bar and the Jade Mountain "Chow Mein" sign (still hanging on Second Avenue, last I checked). Really, shouldn't the Met or the Smithsonian get involved? Surely some curators can see artistry and historical value in these metal-glass-and-neon creations.

On another note, I was recently relieved to see that the Old Town Bar sign was finally back in place, newly bulbed-up.

Developers Have Money for the Important Things

The developers of the newly landmarked Domino sugar plant have said they don't have the money needed to probably preserve the iconic Domino sign (which was not landmarked). Today, however, the New York Post reports that the same people did have $577,000 to lobby city officials for a zoning change on the $1.2 billion project.

Meet your friendly New York neighborhood developer. If they even tell the truth or consider the community, it's entirely by accident.

Landmarks Commission Throws a Little Sugar Domino's Way

Yesterday, the New York City Landmarks Preservation Commission voted unanimously to grant landmark status to the former Domino Sugar Plant. The move was expected, but still comes as a relief. At least one part of the old Brooklyn waterfront will be preserved.

The commission cherry-picked a cluster of three brick buildings
completed in 1884 known as the filter, pan and finishing houses. The rest of the complex can be knocked down any old time. No word on what will happen to the big Domino sign, which is attached to one of the non-landmarked buildings. And, of course, the plans still are to surround the refinery with a bunch of 30-40 story condo towers, which, you know, will be, probably, you know, ugly. One step forward, two steps back.

Domino Museum Advocates Reveal Themselves

As first reported on Lost City yesterday, and reported in the New York Sun and elsewhere today, a group of Brooklyn art leaders are trying to drum up support for the idea that the City would be better served if the Domino sugar plant, recently landmarked, become a Tate Modern-like museum, rather than a hive of new, fancy apartments and retail space—which is what its owners plan to do with it.

The Sun article revealed just who these artists are. "I look at this place and I say ' Tate Modern, Tate Modern, Tate Modern,'" Greg Stone told the Sun. Stone is a longtime Williamsburg resident, a well-known participant in the neighborhood's art scene whose art has been shown in many local and international galleries. Having lived in Billyburg for a good couple decades, he has seen the many changes the nabe has gone through.

One of his partners in the effort, Joe Amrhein, is better known. As the owner or the massively successful Williamsburg gallery Pierogi 2000, he is a near mythic figure in the Brooklyn art world. Few if any Williamsburg artists have gotten anywhere without first winning a show at Pierogi, or, at least, a place in the gallery's famous "flat files." (Stone has shown at Pierogi.)

Unsurprisingly, the developers are not impressed by the idea. "We believe that the adaptive use that makes the most sense is residential," a spokesman for Community Preservation Corporation Resources, told the Sun. I bet they had some saltier comments for the plan once they were off the record

Domino Plant a Museum Piece?

To some residents of Williamsburg, the news that the Domino Sugar Plant had been saved from destruction (unlike much of the rest of the Brooklyn waterfront) by the Landmarks Preservation Commission in late June just wasn't good enough. They still find it an abomination that the plant will become yet another residential palace, christened "The New Domino" by developers CPC Resources and Isaac Katan, and set to include some 2,200 apartments, 660 of those characterized as "affordable housing," which, in this market, could (and does) mean anything.

So, what do these malcontents want? Oh, art, culture, something that gives back to the community as opposed to stuffing one individual's pockets—that sort of stuff. Lost City has gotten wind that a group of prominent Billyburg arts leaders are trying to stir up support for a plan which would transform the Domino Plant into a world-class art center, a la The Tate Modern in London (below).

One has to say, on the surface, the plan makes some sense. It's kind of a no-brainer, actually. The Tate and old Domino have a lot in common. The Tate was created out of an old abandoned, hulking old power station sitting in the East End right across the Thames from central London, just as the Domino building stares at Manhattan from across the East River. (Leave it to an artists' community to notice these parallels.) As to what such a plan could bring to Gotham, well, the Tate Modern has far exceeded expectations as far as attendance since it opened in 2000; it was at one time the third more popular tourist attraction in London. Which, of course, means pots of cash for the city.

The pushers of this plan see the Domino as hosting rotating exhibitions of private collections, art fairs, traveling international exhibitions, and imagine it being serviced by a water taxis (just like Fairway!), restaurants and a pretty little promenade. (Hey, how about building our own Millinneum Bridge from Manhattan to get there?)

Not such a wild dream. Hard to see it happening without a big fight. And, after all, CPC and Katan owns the joint and ain't likely to let it go. But I, for one, would like to see someone give them a run for his money.

Too Little, Too Late

OK, so the National Trust for Historic Preservation came out with their list of most endangered historic sites and, whaddaya know, the whole of the Brooklyn Waterfront was on it, right up there at Number One.

Well, big whoop. Nice of them to notice, of course, but—call me a pessimist—it's not endangered, it's gone. The Greenpoint Terminal Market done burned down. The Revere Sugar plant was dismantled bit by bit. The Old Dutch Mustard Buidling was demolished. IKEA wiped up the Todd Shipyards (and its many years of official records!).
The 1915, Cass Gilbert-designed Austin, Nichols Warehouse in Williamsburg lost its landmark status in a dumbass City Council vote in December 2005. Gone, gone, gone. And do you think IKEA going to give up its parking lot now that the City gave it the green light to pave over the Civil War-era Graving Dock in Red Hook. Ain't Sweden's history; ain't Sweden's problem.

I am also doubtful that the Domino refinery will be landmarked and saved. Bloomberg wants big box stores and large cruise ships up and down Brooklyn's coast and that's all he wants. So, thanks for the gesture, National Trust. Two years ago would have been better.

Domino to Fall?

There's a campaign on right now to save the hulking old Domino Sugar Factory in Williamburg, which was built back in 1884, and ceased producing the sweet stuff a few years back. Unsurprisingly, some developers want to fill it to the brim with—guess what?—condos. But locals are resisting and petitioning the Landmarks Commission for help. The campaign to save it has an unlikely ally in slippery City Council Member David Yassky, who did a mighty fine job last year overturning the landmark status of another 19th century Brooklyn warehouse, 184 Kent. He also wants to save the parts of the Greenpoint Terminal Market that didn't go down in ashes in last May's huge conflgration and the McCarren pool, the huge WPA swimming hole that nobody uses for swimming anymore.

Yassky's letter said that, as Williamsburg and Greenpoint “change and evolve, it is increasingly important that we work to preserve our ties to the past." If it sounds like disingenuous politican bullshit, that's because it is. Dude's got an election coming up. And he's probably guessing that the save-Domino fight doesn't stand a chance of a sugar cube over a bunsen burner in this market. The place is a factory, after all, and factories just don't set up shop in the five boroughs anymore. If it's not carved up into luxury residences, it will sit there empty, just taunted developers with its potential land value. And developers don't like to be taunted.

Also, this is the Landmarks Commission we're talking about, those political lapdogs who'll roll over on anything if the pressure gets to be too much. Their current leadership would give up the Flatiron Building.