Welcome to my neighborhood, upper Clinton, the turbulent meeting place of Hell's Kitchen and the Upper West Side of Manhattan.

Let's start on Ninth Ave. at 57th Street. Awnings and other 3-dimensional signage are important visual and psychological components of street life. They advertise and bring retail out onto the sidewalk, closer to customers. It's not Bleecker Street, but at least we get an honest idea of what's going on here. This single block has two diners, a public phone, a newsstand, a pharmacy, Mexican and Japanese food, a small grocery/deli, and a hair salon. 

Variety of colors and shapes of the signage help to distinguish the retail establishments. We sense that the stores are independent, and independence means democracy, right?

Chinatown. If a vendor is selling goods outside, we feel as if we are already in the store, so we are more likely to venture in. The vendor is actively engaging the street, not passively waiting inside.

The generic strip on 9th Ave. at 58th-59th. If it weren't for franchise logos, we would have no idea what these stores are selling. But the street vendor seems to have potential customers, no logo required. Notice in the Chinatown photo above, we don't even need to read the language to feel invited to participate in the street commerce.

And across the street, complete with razor wire slinky and all the charm of the Berlin wall.

One large retail space here is vacant (the old Super Natural market, bottom), yet the Amish Market across the Avenue (top) is busy.

Worldwide Plaza on 49th Street. Welcomed by the security camera and charming pink exit-only door, you chance upon a delicate evergreen that whispers, "yes, there really is life beyond air conditioning vents." Notice the hired pedestrian. At least this view is nice for students learning to draw in simple one-point perspective. By the way, the architects are Skidmore Owings and Merrill, recently hired to design a new tower at 7 World Trade Center. 

Finally back uptown, we reach the famed Hudson Hotel on West 58th, that robot head with eight squinty eyelids (dissing us) and gigantic green mouth. The ventilation grillwork (where windows should be) and solar reflections from across the street are the best parts. When the weather is nasty, guests crowd into the tiny foyer to wait for taxis, due to the lack of an awning and marquee that might actually welcome and protect. I don't believe this was an oversight; the designers did this deliberately to achieve an air of exclusivity. In other words, all the amenities are for the lucky ones who get in, not us pagani. I keep thinking this facade is designed to be the rear entrance, and the main grand entrance will be on 57th St. after they evict all the renters on that side (shown below). No official word on that; I only believe that because I can't accept that a hotel main entrance could be so atrociously designed. The foyer is puny, with no lobby on the ground level, and you have to ride a skinny claustrophobic green-tunnel/escalator to the lobby. Whatever the little forest intends to accomplish, it fails to soften the brutality inflicted on the public.

On the bright side, school's out on 56th. Hurray!