If it seems like I never post here anymore it is because I almost never post here anymore. Most of my writerly exertions go into the bottomless pit of Sorabji.MOBI, or into anonymous compartments of text that are written and promptly forgotten.
For $1, I bought a leather-bound journal into which I will write side notes to complement or supplement whatever I am writing at a computer or other device. I saw a woman at the library doing this and it reminded me that I used to do just that same thing, write notes of things to follow up on or to explore later. Writing by hand seems to change how you think about… thought. A notebook from years ago filled with such notes turned up in one of my desk drawers and, to my surprise, it actually contained interesting things.
I was at Calvary a few weeks ago when I noticed a mausoleum which seemed new to me even though I have certainly seen it before. It is in the semi-circle of mausolea behind the chapel, which has itself become something of a unique destination for me. Probably the best known individual in this area is Texas Guinan, the early 20th century silent film star whose trademark greeting was “Hello, Suckers!” But also in this area was the crypt of one Antonio Latorraca. A cursory search on Mr. Latorraca turns up mostly fundamental public records, with a naturalization certificate indicating he was a shoemaker.
More clues about the life and times of Antonio Latorraca might be out there but I was more interested in the mausoleum itself, in particular its door. The door, it turns out, is listed at the Smithsonian’s Art Inventories web site. It is the work of James Novelli, a once-forgotten sculptor who was the subject of the 2002 book “Novelli, the Forgotten Sculptor”, by Josephine Murphy. This was of mild interest to me simply because Calvary is not exactly known for its notable funerary art or artists, although maybe it should be. The chapel and the mighty Johnston Mausoleum are probably the cemetery’s most notable structures, while the Soldiers Monument, aka the Civil War Memorial, also seems to draw some attention.
The Smithsonian listing only credits Novelli with the mausoleum door, a bronze piece which depicts the 14 stages of the cross. Click the image for full-size detail.
James Novelli Calvary Cemetery Bronze Door
James Novelli Calvary Cemetery Bronze Door
The exterior of the mausoleum bears likenesses of religious figures and of a lion. The lion is said to be symbolically offering protection for the dead. I did not think to look for the name of the company that built the mausoleum. I’m going to guess Fasolino, though the name should be found somewhere on the structure. I will look for it next time.
Antonio Latorraca Mausoleum at Calvary Cemetery
Novelli also crafted similar doors for nearby mausolea of DeSalvio and Mrs. C. LaGioia.
Other than this relatively idle cemetery discovery I have little else to report. My life is quiet, though this weekend saw some unexpected mental adventures via online dating web sites. I talked at length with a woman who said her ex-husband beat her senseless. It made me sick, but my empathies were not enough to sustain any connection. Everything she said about herself on the web site was false. Age, location, race… All of it was inaccurate. I completely understand how attempting to connect with strangers via the Internet can cause anyone to obfuscate and obscure their real identity. And someone as traumatized as she might be would have more trouble than others in trusting people. But this person just took it too far and, after three days of chatting, would not let it go. Good God she was beautiful, though.
Another woman and I chatted briefly. I was amused at first that the only image she posted of herself was of her breasts. But after a few sentences I just could not allow myself to continue talking to boobs.
On the upside I’ve maintained a days-long connection with a sweetheart woman 19 years younger than me. She seems real.
I continue my practice of going out for walks that reach double-digit mileage. Yesterday I crossed the Ed Koch/Queensboro Bridge. Next week a friend and I plan to cross the RFK/Triborough to Randalls Island and then onward to the Upper East Side. I have done this walk three or four times. Another friend and I have have plotted for years to walk the complete length of Manhattan, starting up by where I used to live in Inwood and marching all the way to Battery Park. But that friend is in Portland, planning a return to NYC some year.
I noticed last month that a sign had gone missing from the Bronx-bound span of the RFK/Triborough. That sign said “LIFE IS WORTH LIVING” and claimed that there was a suicide support emergency telephone 150 feet ahead. No such phone ever existed. I have no reason to care, mind you. It just seemed like a needlessly cruel joke. I wrote to the Port Authority asking them why they would post a sign claiming a telephone was up ahead when none was to be found. Someone wrote back stating as fact that emergency phones could be found on all spans of the RFK/Triborough. What can you say to that?
Now that the sign is gone I guess that little dilemma is over.
For the past week or so I have been at the piano more than in previous months. I try to compose but that mental muscle has atrophied, and sometimes I think the world has all the music, all the words, all the culture and commentary it will ever need.
