The sun is shining, the temperatures are above 50, and my monthly MetroCard is burning a hole in my pocket. That means a trip to visit the sites of the 1939/40 and 1964-65 World’s Fair at Flushing Meadows Park! The metal might be a little dilapidated, but the feeling of wonder and grandeur is still alive in the Unisphere, the Tent of Tomorrow, and the Observatory Towers.
When New Yorker’s heard there would be some changes to their prized research facility, there were celebrations. There were protests. There were questions to how this could all come together, while still maintaining the amazing, stoic ambiance of the NYPL’s 42nd Street location. Now, after all the meetings and compromises, some visuals have surfaced.
Here’s a short fly-through of the new plan, designed by Pritzker Prize–winning architect Norman Foster.
From the press post:
Among the Benefits:
More public library space than is currently available in all three locations combined
Open 7 days a week, 12+ hours most days
Updated facilities for Mid-Manhattan patrons without closing for renovations
Books and DVDs to browse and check out
Natural light and views onto Bryant Park
New spaces for children and teens
Classrooms, computer labs, expanded research areas
Business Research Center and Job Search resources
Expanded spaces for scholars and writers
Research materials properly preserved beneath Bryant Park
Savings that can be spent on new librarians and curators and more books
Let’s take a look at the amazing culinary contributions of Robert Browning Sosman- most notably in his publications Gustavademecum for the Island of Manhattan: A Check-List of the Best-Recommended or Most Interesting Eating-Places, Arranged in Approximate Order of Increasing Latitude and Longitude (released from 1941-1962), which boasted itself as a 16-page leaflet “for the convenience of mathematicians, experimental scientists, engineers, and explorers.”
Not sure what that means, exactly? Take a look:
In each of the guide’s at least 15 editions, Sosman reviewed 300 restaurants, relaying facts like cuisine and cost, as well as esoteric observations like tableside lighting (measured in lumens) and waiters’ estimated IQs. All of it was written in a mashup of mathematical figures, glyphs, Greek, and astrological symbols. A sigma meant there was samba dancing. A lowercase “m” suggested that Madison Avenue types frequented the restaurant; Don Drapers of the day might be found slurping bouillabaisse at Le Provençal.
To those who could decipher Sosman’s coding without going blind or getting too hunger-frustrated, it was an invaluable guide to the city’s gastronomical nightlife. For the gentlemen-about-town looking for a quick spot to entertain, the guide even fit discreetly inside one’s inner coat pocket, so that its bearer need not seem untidy.