On Williamsburg’s Union Avenue, the three-story row house at number 322 has served as a bodega, a chicken shack and even a tattoo parlor. Most recently, it has housed the latest wave of gentrification —the scarfed, young artists—by serving as a home away from home. Here, in the musty basement shared with a meat locker, screeching bands can rent out quiet practice spaces. Upstairs, artists grace the walls with their images. And on a pull-down screen, local filmmakers screen their documentaries for intimate audiences of cinephiles.
Now a non-profit, state-supported arts center billed “Union Docs,” the house hosts about forty screenings per year selected by six rotating “curators in residence” who live just upstairs. In the tin-roofed former grocery store, these residents serve $2 bottles of Yuengling and free popcorn to anyone who comes out for their weekly series, cheekily billing the operation the “Documentary Bodega,” now in its second season.
Though their neighbors wander in from time-to-time, they rarely stick around. This was one reason the group selected this season’s theme of “Neighborhoods,” explained one resident-curator. (Fall’s theme—“Praxis,” or politics—hinged on election fever.) In January, the season opened with a film documenting Brooklyn’s long tradition of pigeon breeders and their new battle with development, titled “Up on the Roof.” Last Saturday at the series’ second screening of the season, the first-floor was packed to capacity and more gawkers were milling outside—all drawn to the work of Nathan Kensinger, the evening’s featured filmmaker.
Raised in the stretch of San Francisco that fronts the abandoned Navy Yards, Kensinger is one of a generation of photographers obsessed with the aesthetics of abandoned urban spaces. Like the 18th century British artists who fled industrializing London to document the crumbling “picturesque” cottages of the neglected countryside, these “urban explorers” sneak into decaying, neglected city nooks and emerge with grand images of ruin. Wary of guard dogs, crumbling floors and caving ceilings, Kensinger has puttered around the iconic Domino Sugar plant, the country’s first chewing-gum factory (located in Staten Island) and the hideouts beneath the Coney Island board walk—among hundreds of other locales. He posts the resulting work to his blog, where he also writes of his research on the background of the buildings he finds. As such, his works intrigue not only for their aesthetic beauty—the beauty of ruin, of decay, of the sad passing of time—but because like the photographs of Jacob Riis, they show us a world we would otherwise never see, a world left behind by the quick waves of gentrification.


Commenting is closed for this article.
All ArticlesType your name and email address below, then click "Submit" to be added to our spam-free email list.