A My Private Coney project Flash non-fiction, brief moments and old memories of a city and mother's emotional and physical real estate disappearing at the speed of heartbreak.
Tuesday, January 20, 2015
The Sound Of Music
This week's series commemorates LoFish Studios which will close at the end of January because of a rent increase.
With just about a month to empty 11 years of heart, soul and song, El and Walter recorded their last album Saturday.
It wasn't just a place for their art to grow, but a place for New Yorkers of every ilk to sing, like the rockers, the hip hoppers, the opera singers, the jazzers.
And the man who wanted to record a song for his father who had just died.
Elisabeth grew up in Austria, right by that big hill where Julie Andrews jumps around singing about how the hills are alive with the sound of music.
But Elisabeth didn't need a bunch of Alps to fill the world with everything she feels. She came to New York, and with her husband, Walter Fishbacher, found other mountains to climb and sing from, and along the way built a studio for others to do the same.
When the Mariner and I slipped in to watch her sing farewell, the walls of that carefully constructed recording studio, sculpted with foam and wood to nourish each note, disappeared and we found ourselves on a endless vista, saying goodbye.
MY PRIVATE CONEY presents IT WAS HER NEW YORK, the short stories that accompany the work-in-progress video and photo collection of the same name (myprivateconey.com - media link - IT WAS HER NEW YORK). The stories and the media explore the tender rubble that holds both my mother, Florence's and New York's soul as one disappears into old age and the other into gentrification. All are real observations and/or experiences with very little tall-tale telling.
Except when it makes the story better.
Please visit myprivateconey.com for additional information and sample works.