photographed in Manhattan, New York on August 14, 2010

It is a cool and rainy morning in New York City, and Cheryl Petit de Mange wants a cup of coffee. Two big, bright Starbucks shops beckon from 200 yards in either direction. But Petit de Mange instead joins 14 other hardy java junkies crowded around what looks like a bright-orange ice cream truck. She’s waiting to buy a 12-ounce cappuccino for $2—$1.68 less than what she’d pay across the street. “It’s not just about price or better customer service,” yells Petit de Mange over the soul music blasting from the truck’s sound system.”Why would you go to Starbucks when you can support a neighborhood business like this?” She has just summed up how a pair of entrepreneurs, equipped with nothing more sophisticated than a refurbished electric-company truck, keep their coffee business percolating despite being sandwiched between two outlets of a popular and respected national chain.

Everything Mud founders Greg Northrop and Nina Berott do is designed to distinguish their business from Starbucks and other national brands. “My profit margins probably aren’t as great as Starbucks,” concedes Northrop, 40, who says he could make a “decent profit” if he weren’t putting so much of his earnings back into the business. Northrop wants to boost sales, which grew to $520,000 last year, up from $293,000 in 2002, the year he added a second truck now on Wall Street.

Excerpted from ‘Beat the Beast: Selling Price’ by Maggie Overfelt. Published in Forbes Small Business, September 2004.

photographed in Chicago, Illinois on November 14, 2009

That innocence is the receptacle of all heavenly good things, and therefore that the innocence of Little Children is the plane or ground of all their affections for good and truth, may appear from what has been said before … The innocence of Children was imaged to me by the representation of a Child in wood with scarce any thing of life in it, but which was vivified gradually, answerably to the progress of Children in their knowledge of truth, and their affection for good: and afterwards I had a representation of genuine innocence in a very beautiful Child quite lively and naked: for the innocents which are in the inmost Heaven, and such nearest to the Lord, appear as Little Children … In a word, the more the Angels excel in wisdom, the higher is their degree of innocence; and the higher their degree of innocence, the more do they appear to one another as Little Children: hence it is that Infancy in the Word signifies innocence.

Excerpted from A Treatise Concerning Heaven and Hell, and of the Wonderful Things Therein by Emanuel Swedenborg. Translated from the original Latin and published in the second edition by R. Hindmarsh, London, 1784.

photographed in Quincy, Illinois on September 5, 2009

When the Franciscans were asked, in 1859, to make a foundation in Quincy, it was expressly stipulated that, besides engaging in parish work, they would open a high school for boys and young men. There was, indeed, urgent need of a Catholic high school and college in this part of the state, but owing to the scarcity of priests and religious, it was a matter of extreme difficulty, if not an impossibility, to obtain Catholic educators for such an institution. In these circumstances, the pioneer Franciscans, with characteristic zeal and energy, determined to accept the invitation of Rt. Rev. Bishop Juncker to supply the deficiency.

The arrival of Father Servatius Altmicks and his companions in Quincy and the beginning of their foundation, has already been told. As soon as the friars had taken up their abode in the Mast House, as the end of December, 1859, the set aside the first floor for the purposes of the high school which they planned to open as soon as possible. This undertaking in the interest of education was attended with many difficulties. The Fathers were few in number, hampered by the lack of resources, and besides engaged in pastoral work. At this distant date, it is indeed a cause of wonderment that they succeeded so well in the face of so many difficulties; one cannot but admire the zeal and courage of these pioneers. It was naturally impossible under the circumstances, to begin with a complete course. The main point was to make a beginning; the course could be extended and perfected later as reinforcements would arrive from Germany and the conditions in the mission would improve. This was the opinion of Bishop Juncker, the Rev. H. Schaefermeyer, and of the Catholics of Quincy. Accordingly, the Fathers resolutely set to work, and early in the year 1860, probably in March, they were in a position to receive the first students.

Excerpted from ‘The Franciscans in Southern Illinois’ by the Rev. Silas Barth, O.F.M. Originally appearing in Illinois Catholic Historical Review, Volume III. Published by the Illinois Catholic Historical Society, Chicago, 1920.

photographed in Chicago, Illinois on August 7, 2009

Earlier that day, an entirely different Glass opens the door to her suite at Midtown’s Hudson Hotel. Quiet and aloof, she lacks the charisma that makes her so hypnotic in concert. In real life, her feral intensity is replaced by a pair of matching cat masks that she and Kath refuse to take off. Since the release of their eponymous debut album two years ago, the duo has created, nurtured and perhaps exaggerated these cantankerous and willfully enigmatic personae. From their silly disguises to their standoffish, above-it-all relationship to the media, Glass and Kath desperately want people to know they don’t give a fuck.

Take Kath’s thoughts on the evolution of his band: “We were not trying to evolve. Crystal Castles was born out of the environment,” he says. “It’s a natural evolution, not a concept. It’s about following your genetic code. It’s about things breaking down. It’s about maggots forming from rotting meat.” Perhaps, then, they might comment on how the success of their first album—and the subsequent media attention they received—has colored Glass’ eagerness to bare her soul lyrically? “Her lyrics have always been personal,” says Kath, answering for her. “Nothing has changed.” Okay, but surely being in a white-hot band, one whose debut clocked in at 39 on NME’s list of the “Top 50 Greatest Albums of the Decade,” changes things? “Ask the Cure,” Glass replies.

Excerpted from ‘The Strange Mystique of Crystal Castles‘ by Nick Haramis. Published June 17, 2010 in BlackBook magazine.

photographed in Wolfeboro, New Hampshire on May 30, 2010

Lake Winnipesaukee is about thirty miles long and varies from one to ten miles in width. The lake is almost five hundred feet above the sea level and the water is very clear and pure. Winnipesaukee has an area of seventy-one square miles, exclusive of two hundred and seventy-four islands, ten of which have an area of more than one hundred acres each …

The fishing in Lake Winnipesaukee is unsurpassed in New England, all things considered. The state fish and game commissioners are stocking its waters with land locked salmon, and already many specimens of gamy fish have been taken weighing from seven to twelve pounds each. Lake trout are very numerous and afford good sport both summer and winter. It is no uncommon thing for one row boat to bring in fifteen or twenty trout weighing from three to ten pounds each as the result of one day’s trolling during the spring months. In the summer, black bass, pickerel, perch and other excellent food fish are taken in immense numbers.

Excerpted from ‘Laconia, the City on the Lakes’ by Charles W. Vaughan, originally appearing in National Magazine as edited by Joe Mitchell Chapple, published by Chapple Publishing Company, Ltd., Boston, 1902.

photographed around Wall Street, Manhattan, New York on July 3, 2010

“What do my eyeballs see? Ah—the blue sky. Long-fellow!” He swayed and blinked. He rubbed his eyes. “Together with windows—have you ever dug windows? Now let’s talk about windows. I have seen some really crazy windows that made faces at me, and some of them had shades drawn and so they winked.” Out of his seabag he fished a copy of Eugene Sue’s Mysteries of Paris and, adjusting the front of his T-shirt, began reading on the street corner with a pedantic air. “Now really, Sal, let’s dig everything as we go along …” He forgot about that in an instant and looked around blankly. I was glad I had come, he needed me now.

“Why did Camille throw you out? What are you going to do?”

“Eh?” he said. “Eh? Eh?” We racked our brains for where to go and what to do. I realized it was up to me. Poor, poor Dean—the devil himself had never fallen further; in idiocy, with infected thumb, surrounded by battered suitcases of his motherless feverish life across America and back numberless times, an undone bird. “Let’s walk to New York,” he said, “and as we do so let’s take stock of everything along the way—yass.” I took out my money and counted it; I showed it to him.

“I have here,” I said, “the sum of eighty-three dollars and change, and if you come with me let’s go to New York—and after that let’s go to Italy.”

Excerpted from On the Road by Jack Kerouac. Published by Penguin Books, New York, 2003.

photographed in Cincinnati, Ohio on September 11, 2009

German accounts of the usage of the violin in the sixteenth century are scanty, but there is one extremely elaborate printed account of the music and festivities at a ducal wedding in 1568, which gives us a detailed picture of the contemporary use of instruments in Germany, including the violin. On 22 February 1568, Wilhelm V, Duke of Bavaria, married Renée of Lorraine, and the festivities, which had started the day before, lasted until 9 March. Orlando Lasso was charged with the musical direction of the whole affair; and we can do better than guess what the instruments (including the stringed instruments) and players looked like. The music for the whole festivity was furnished by the Munich Court Chapel under Lasso, and Hans Mielich, the court painter and Lasso’s son-in-law, painted the players and singers (most of whom were probably Italian) about this time performing under Lasso.

The nuptual banquet was an exceedingly elaborate affair with a number of courses, each of which was accompanied by different music. Included were several pieces that employed the violins alone or in combination. In particular, a six-part motet of Cipriano de Rore was performed by six viole da brazzo (members of the violin family); and a twelve-part piece of Annibale Padvano, by six viole da brazzo, five trombones, a cornetto, and a regale dolce. Note that the piece for violins alone was a piece of sacred vocal music simply performed by instruments.

Excerpted from The History of Violin Playing from its Origins to 1761 and its Relationship to the Violin and Violin Music by David D. Boyden. Published by Oxford University Press, New York, 1990.

photographed in Chicago, Illinois on June 18, 2010

Another surprise to Chicago was a flood. That the Chicago River, or either of its branches, should get up a current sufficient to cause any alarm to the citizens was a surprise to the people then as it would be to-day. It was never expected, but it came one morning in March, 1849. There had been two or three days’ heavy rain following the heavy snowstorms, and one morning the citizens were aroused from their slumbers by reports that the ice in the Desplaines River had broken up and dammed up the waters so as to turn them into Mud Lake, and from this thence into the South Branch. This pressure of water broke up the ice in the South Branch, and floating down it became gorged in the main channel. Shipping in the river was in great peril. Then came the flood. The breaking up of the ice was like the booming of artillery, the waters came sweeping down with the power of a mountain torrent, vessels broke from their moorings and went with the flood, and a number were precipitated against Randolph street bridge with such force as to carry it away and send it down the river. On went the great mass of ice and vessels against the iron bridge at Clark street, and that too was carried down stream. All Chicago attended this wild scene, and such excitement had not been since the city began its eventful career.

Excerpted from Chicago’s First Half Century, 1833-1883. Published by The Inter-Ocean Publishing Company, Chicago, 1883.

photographed in Manhattan, New York on July 3, 2010

A market-place for the accommodation of the butchers and the country-people was anciently under the trees in front of the fort, near the corner of Water and Whitehall streets. As the city enlarged, the market-places were removed to the east and north, first at the foot of Broad street, then to Coenties Slip, and subsequently to Old Slip, and to the Vlie, (a Dutch word, indicating a valley – a rural spot, formed by a river which formerly run up Maiden Lane,) or Fly Market, foot of Maiden Lane, and to Fulton and Catherine streets.

The market-houses of this city are now judiciously distributed in various quarters of the town, to suit the wants and convenience of the citizens; the two principal ones being situated close to the water, one on the Hudson and one on the East river, at the extremity of Fulton street on each side, and adjacent to the two most important ferries, which render them very accessible to the country-people and fishermen.

Excerpted from The Stranger’s Hand-Book for the City of New York; or, What to See, and How to See It. Published by C.S. Francis and Co., New York, 1854.

photographed in Washington, D.C., on July 18, 2010

Judd Herbert, Metatheatre 2, concentrates on the duplicity inherent in theatrical discourse as “combining overt mimetic representations of the story with covert performative and metadramatic clues pointed to its own operations at the risk of undermining or at the very least problematizing the fable.” In the simplest cases metatheatre involves “linguistic signs that, in addition to communicating developments in plot and characterization, explicitly designate the art of stagecraft and entertainment.” (The subsequent discussion shows, however, that he does not intend to exclude ambiguity or polysemy of the linguistic sign from his metatheatrical inventory.) Going beyond the notion of a dramatic “anti-form” in which the barrier between art and life is dissolved, Calderwood, Shakespearean Metadrama 5, intends “metadrama” in broader terms to comprehend the fact that Shakespeare’s plays are about “dramatic art itself—its materials, its media of language and theatre, its generic forms and conventions, its relationship to truth and the social order.” Such observations are common in metatheatrical criticism; cf. Gruber, “Systematized Delirium” 99: “Aristophanes’ real subject is drama, for his plays may be best understood as forming an ongoing self-conscious discourse on theatre.”

Excerpted from Figures of Play: Greek Drama and Metafictional Poetics, footnote 40, by Gregory W. Dobrov. Published by Oxford University Press, New York, 2001.

photographed in Brooklyn, New York on July 14, 2010

Early that evening while Chaumonot, worn with travelling and overcome with sleep, threw himself to rest on a bed that was not made up since the creation of the world. Father Brebeuf, to escape for a time the acrid and pungent smoke that filled the cabin, went out to commune with God alone in prayer. Early as it was, there was no one moving around, for the night was bitterly cold, and every door was closed. As the priest passed through the bourg, flickering ribands of light gleamed across his path,-from out the lodges came laughter and sounds of boisterous merriment, for neighbors were telling to each other rude jokes and spicy stories. Brebeuf moved towards the margin of the woods, when presently he stopped as if transfixed. Far away to the south-east, high in air and boldly outlined, a huge cross floated; Suspended in mid-heaven. “Was it stationary?” No, it moved towards him from the land of the Iroquois. The saintly face lighted with unwonted splendor, for his saw in the vision the presage of the martyr’s crown.

Excerpted from Early Missions in Western Canada by the Very Rev. W.R. Harris, Dean of St. Catharines. Published by Hunter, Rose and Company, Toronto, 1893.

photographed in Manhattan, New York on July 3, 2010

But all of a sudden I realized that he knew also, just like I knew. And that everybody in the bookstore knew, and that they were all hiding it! They all had the consciousness, it was like a great unconscious that was running between all of use that everybody was completely conscious, but that the fixed expressions that people have, the habitual expressions, the manners, the mode of talk, are all masks hiding this consciousness. But almost at that moment it seemed that it would be too terrible if we communicated to each other on a level of total consciousness and awareness each of the other—that it would be too terrible, it would be the end of the bookstore, it would be the end of civ- … not civilization, but in other words the position that everybody was in was ridiculous, everybody running around peddling books to each other. Here in the universe! Passing money over the counter, wrapping books in bags and guarding the door, you know, stealing books, and the people sitting up making accountings on the upper floor there, and people worrying about their exams walking through the bookstore, and all the millions of thoughts that people had – you know, that I’m worrying about – whether I’m going to get laid or whether anybody loves them, about their mothers dying of cancer or, you know, the complete death awareness that everybody has continuously with them all the time – suddenly revealed to me at once in the faces of the people, and they all looked like horrible grotesque masks, grotesque because hiding the knowledge from each other. Having a habitual conduct and forms to prescribe, forms to fulfill. Roles to play. But the main insight I had at the time was that everybody knew. Everybody knew completely everything. Knew completely everything in the terms I was talking about.

Excerpted from the interview ‘On the Blake Experience’ appearing in On the Poetry of Allen Ginsburg, edited by Lewis Hyde. Published by the University of Michigan, 1984.

photographed in Hoboken, New Jersey on July 4, 2010

1. Permit. No person shall use or discharge any fireworks within the city without a permit. (O.R., Sec. 247.)

2. July 4 exemption. No permit shall be required for the use and discharge of fireworks during a period of 24 hours covering the holiday known as the “Fourth of July,” where the quantity discharged does not exceed in wholesale market value the sum of $2. (O.R., Sec. 251.)

3. Police notification. All permits for the use and discharge of fireworks shall be issued in duplicate, and shall show the name of the holder of the permit, the names of his employees (if any) who are to discharge the fireworks and the numbers of their certificates of fitness (when required); the place and times of display; the quantity, kind and wholesale market value of the fireworks to be discharged, and the distance to be preserved between the place of discharge and the bystanders and nearby buildings. One of the duplicate permits shall be filed with the commanding officer of the police precinct within which the display is to be given, and shall be evidence of the right of the person named therein to give the display. (O.R., Sec. 250.)

Excerpted from The Charter of the City of New York, Chapter 466, Laws of 1901, with all Amendments to and Including 1915, and City Ordinances Charter Amendments. Published by the Eagle Building, Brooklyn, New York, 1915.

photographed in Castries, St. Lucia on April 8, 2010

These were spread out upon the sand, and an more brilliant piscatorial picture I never saw before, but such variety and beauty in a fish market I saw again and again in the markets of the Windward Islands. The fish were of all shapes and sizes, from a hideous shark to the graceful and beautiful bonita. There were the parrot-fish, a gray-blue and yellow fish that looked like a drowned “Polly,” with watery eye; the gar-fish, two feet long, as slender as a lance-blade, clothed in gleaming silver, and with a long black bill like a bird’s, which is set with rows of fine pointed teeth; there was the butter fish, and the redsnapper, and the gauze-winged flying fish, and the beautiful angel fish, with its delicate arrangements of scales of pearl and silver and bronze and gold. Curious eels of vast size lay coiled like serpents in boxes … and crabs of all sizes and colors, and forty other strange and wonderful dwellers in the sea. Dozens of men and women, squatting or kneeling in the sand, were chaffering and chattering, and handling and weighing, and selling and buying.

Excerpted from Cruising Among the Caribbees: Summer Days in Winter Months by Charles Augustus Stoddard. Published by Charles Scribner & Sons, New York, 1895.