City Parks Foundation Blog Reclaim your neighborhood park.

By: Stephen Kahn

How far and wide this city stretches is…?

I can’t quite think of the right word to describe it.  Give me a few minutes.

I spent my first summer in New York last year, when the weather was nearly unbearable, especially with no AC unit.  The only thing I had was a ceiling fan, which, thankfully enough, spun like a motorboat propeller.  Downtown Manhattan loves the sun.  Her skin absorbs it and holds it tight.  The streets never let go, and once the streets build up a warm enough temperature, it starts to spread like wildfire.  Building bases heat up, then the cracks in the walls and windows expand and it’s even easier now for her to become engulfed.  The furniture catches next, and soon a trip is made to the bodega to purchase extra ice trays.  Needless to say, I spent a lot of time outdoors.

I got to know the neighborhoods of Nolita/Bowery and SoHo, Greenwich Village and the East Village.  By summer’s end I felt very comfortable with my surroundings, and thought I had a good grasp on the city limits, north south—east west.  “Yeah, I got this.  Got it on lock.  New York, eh, ‘snot that much bigger than Baltimore…”

…Oh how much the City Parks Foundation has taught me in my second summer.  Not only how incredibly large New York City is, but also how diverse it is, and how the subway can drop you off in what seems like another world.  And I thought the LES was the underside of things.  How about Brownsville?  Or Bedford-Stuyvesant?  I have captured some of the most saturated and worn cityscapes I’ve ever seen, and that’s coming from Baltimore.  I enjoy mixing photography with storytelling (aka “making movies”), and the thing I like most about these parts of Brooklyn is how beautifully deep-rooted they appear.  Any picture taken here has a story behind it.

The people aren’t walking around with espressos and shopping bags deciding where to brunch—for better or for worse—but there is certainly a sense of community regardless of how it functions.  On any given night, some music in Betsy Head Park brings them together in harmony.  Take the train west to Red Hook.

Different story.  In the shadow of the massive Ikea building, this park attracts an even more colorful congregation on a different landscape.  A much larger and greener park brings people from all over the city, people who came to see and hear and even criticize the performance.  A more involved crowd in a “hipper” area, Brooklyn Vegan is not missing this one.  Try travelling north to Springfield, Queens.

I said to myself out loud, “Where the hell are we?”  Apparently, we were still in New York.  A very secluded, wooded park in Springfield that has a serene feel.  There are old bridges and little stone canals that lead into a still pond with uneven undergrowth around the edges.  It looks natural.  The stage is surrounded by foliage as well.  There are giant lonely trees sprouting right in the middle of the crowd.  (Cheryl, one of the photo interns, actually climbed one and took a picture.)  We sprawl on to 69^th Street, Manhattan.

Back to where I twice visited last summer in that god-forsaken heat, it was like the mecca of outdoor venues for me.  And it still is, but thanks to the CPF’s nonselective attitude and the degree to which they take the term “citywide,” I am now beginning to understand just how much this town has to offer.  I am very grateful to be part of this organization, and for years to come I will not be remiss of shows happening in all boroughs.

How far and wide this city stretches is…redonkulous.  Yeah, that’s the right word.

By Aylin Gucalp

Last fall, I went away for my freshman year of college. As a born and raised New Yorker, I left fearless that I could live anywhere, even as people mocked my ability to survive let alone live in a rural setting. My new home was Ithaca, NY. As I soon learned, Ithaca may be Gorges but New York City is irresistible and a bit of an addiction. To say “I heart NY” is to understate the situation, I need NY. As each school vacation approached, my imminent return made me nervous and flighty; my stomach would fill with butterflies.

Why did a city have such a hold on me?

It is the city’s great traditions that have always exposed me to something new that make me need New York City. Whether it be sitting on the steps of the Metropolitan Museum of Art watching the street performers or the community you feel waiting in line for tickets to Shakespeare in the Park, NYC always gives you the chance to have a fresh experience. SummerStage by the City Parks Foundation is one of the city’s great traditions. And this summer, I was able to experience it from the other side. I joined the City Parks Foundation as a photography intern. Photography always made me feel like a master of time. It could freeze single moments and make them eternal. And so the joy and the glory of SummerStage were now suddenly immortal, season-less. The amazing performances were there for us to step back into; the delight and excitement of the crowd was always there for us to share. No matter how many times, I look back at the pictures I have taken over this summer, the happiness and energy in the performers and the audience never seems to fade. I love to share those moments with others because I want to take them there, show them what they missed, prove nowhere can top my city.

The crowd during opening act, Bubbles’ performance on June 24th at Mainstage

SummerStage is simply one of those things that makes the city impossible not to love. It makes you want to gush like a proud parent asking, “So what does your city do?” SummerStage and the City Parks Foundation set New York City aside from the pack and remind you concert after concert how naive you were to assume you could live anywhere else.

By Alyson Bonura

The concept of urban farming has become pretty familiar to most New Yorkers. There are many small ones scattered throughout the five boroughs, whether they be on people’s rooftops or right on the street where any community member can gain access to them.

This summer I had the pleasure of interning at Umoja Garden in Bushwick, Brooklyn. Mainly I was there for the purpose of educating various community groups. Every child that walks into Umoja is overcome with fascination: the plants, the dirt, the vegetables we harvest from the ground. It amazes them. And it is incredibly fulfilling to be part of the learning process. Inner city kids don’t necessarily have the luxury of seeing an enormous sunflower and being able to actually touch it and smell it.  It’s rare that they get to run around and catch butterflies and pull fresh carrots from the ground then eat them. What really gets me is their excitement and passion when they’re doing all of this. It makes me think that maybe this experience in Umoja Garden in the middle of Brooklyn in the middle of a hot hot summer, will inspire them to pursue a path in science or maybe this new generation will be so captivated by the urban farming movement that they will help it grow into something bigger and better than what it is now.

Though education was a major part of this internship, I also spent a lot of time close to the earth myself. Umoja needed a lot of TLC at the beginning of the season, which basically meant an endless amount of weeding. But there was something so personally rewarding about this. Sure it was hard work, but we saw results. And it was nice to see people enjoy the beautiful garden after we cleaned it up. I also loved being able to pick things straight from the ground, like carrots and arugula, and eat it right there. We also had an over abundance of sunflowers this season so we spent one afternoon cutting them down (sad, but it had to be done) and harvesting the seeds for later planting. I took some enormous sunflowers home too. I looked pretty strange carrying them on the subway.

It’s so amazing to be so close to nature even when in the middle of New York City. And it’s great that City Parks Foundation has been able to pass this opportunity onto so many curious young minds in the community. 

Photo Courtesy of Laura McFarland Burns