Although we tend to think of trips to the laundromat as dull-but-necessary interruptions in our perusal of neighborhood art, music, and culture—or even of a weekend afternoon on the couch—three clothes-washing establishments on the Northside, contain engrossing, curious phenomena, as well as welcoming communities of customers, proprietors, and staff.
It was the unusual décor that made my first extended visit to the F&M Laundromat at 84 Norman Avenue in Greenpoint an unexpected and mildly transformative delight. Within a rectangular interior, panels of fluorescent lights shine over three rows of silver, orange, and bright yellow washers. Five large dryers are also orange, and a row of light custard dryers matches both the tiled floor and a stretch of decorative plastic shingling just below the ceiling. Laminated faux-wood paneling covers much of the walls, and a long, sleek, red table for folding clothes is composed of two rectangular units and a smaller, asymmetrical abutment. It looks like a piece of neo-plastic sculpture that has been adapted for practical use. The overall effect is warm, artificial, and incubating.
Standing in the back of this comforting and odd space, something about the sharp, blue numerals on the dryer LCDs tripped an inner switch, and I felt as if I was doing laundry in New York for the first time. The feeling made me recall an environmental installation by the Scandinavian artist Olafur Eliasson at MoMA two summers ago. The elements that comprise Eliasson’s 360º room for all colours include stainless steel, fluorescent lights, and wood (real, not fake), and a curatorial description of the artist’s work goes right to the heart of the Laundromat’s appeal: “By transforming the gallery into a hybrid space of nature and culture, Eliasson prompts an intensive engagement with the world and offers a fresh consideration of everyday life.”
At Cameo, the still-somewhat-new miniature ballroom and art gallery in the back of The Lovin’ Cup Cafe on North 6th, there is a curious installation of glossy, undulating strands of white rope that hangs above the stage like a mammoth’s head. Last Thursday night, I ventured over to Cameo to check out four bands: Sisters, Joe and the Flying Spoons, Pursesnatchers, and Acrylics.
Easy on the ears and fun to watch, Joe and the Flying Spoons followed Sisters’ industrial cry with a light but rollicking country stomp. Led by former Dirty on Purpose guitarist and vocalist Joe Jurewicz, the Spoons filled the stage with 10 members, including Caroline Chapman Beck on banjo, mandolin, and violin, and Rachel Lipson on a hand-held harp. Lipson joined three backing vocalists to highlight one song with call-and-response oohs and ahhs that might have fit into a Patsy Cline number, and the band’s last song borrowed the opening melody of REM’s “Don’t Go Back to Rockville” before veering off onto its own dusty track.
