Can-can

“How could I have not known?” are the words that continued to bounce around my thought process while walking through Brookfield Place. The poster and signs all congratulated the organization for their 25th year of the competition. “But how?” I thought to myself, wondering how something to exceptional and amazing could be so close to me in proximity yet so far away in reality since I hadn’t known of its existence. How was it that I only stumbled upon something of such grandeur only a few months ago? I enjoyed every second that I spent there, allowing every dynamic to dance around my thoughts. But I couldn’t help but think about all the years I wasted; the years I didn’t get to see the exhibit in reality. Regardless of how much I wish or beg, I will never be able to get those years back; the only thing I can do is enjoy the current exhibit and its potential for future years.

Brookfield Place

According to the Canstruction Nation Headquarters website, Canstruction began in 1992 by a woman named Cheri Melillo as a collaborative idea with her fellow colleagues. Together, they created an idea to bridge the gap between architects, engineers, and contractors. Each of these professions are connected but don’t really interact with each other; they just coexist in the vast world of design and construction. Melillo saw a problem with the lack of interaction but, also, saw a solution to make the worlds collide and begin to form a better and more comfortable relationship with one another. Canstruction officially made its debut in 1992, taking place in Denver, CO and Seattle, WA before the New York chapter opened on November 13, 1993.

the Canstruction Poster

Canstruction is a competition in which groups of architects, engineers, and contractors (licenced, students, and graduates, alike) build structures completely out of canned goods. Yes, those old fruit cocktails and tuna fish cans in back of your pantry are turned into art. Maybe more enjoyable than the taste, these sculptures stand in the space for a limited time; displayed for everyone’s amusement. After the awards are given and the competition runs its course, the cans are then donated to a local food drive; in our case it all goes to City Harvest. Twenty-five years after the competition’s conception, Canstruction has grown into a massive organization, its compassion spreading to over two hundred cities all over the world and donating about fifty million pounds of food.

Canstruction Sculpture

“We CAN Coexist” by RAND Engineering & Architecture, DPC

Canstruction Sculpture

“Beauty and the Feast” by Gannett Fleming

Canstruction Sculpture

“Fearless in the Face of Hunger” by Simpson Gumpertz & Heger

Canstruction Sculpture

“Out of the Tunnel, In CANsit” by Thornton Tomasetti

This year marks the tenth year of the exhibit’s location at Brookfield Place. Twenty-six different groups entered their own renditions of can sculptures and they were dispersed around the property; weaved in between the commerce and lobbies, inciting droves of people to surround these structures. The creativity stunned me so thoroughly, that I don’t think I could pick a favorite. Each structure was unique and had its own respective qualities that I found favorable.

Canstruction Sculpture

“Heart to Heart” by Dattner Architects

Canstruction Sculpture

“PAC-CAN” by Perkins Eastman/DREAM

a Canstruction Sculpture of a pretzel

“Tying the Knot” by NV5

Canstruction Sculpture

“Game of Buildings – Winter Is Coming, Feed the Hungry” by Metropolis Group, Inc.

Although Melillo wasn’t able to see the growth of her organization since her tragic passing in 2009, I guarantee that she would be proud to know how much her work has induced the design and construction worlds to continue mingling with one another.

Canstruction Sculptures

Main floor for CANstructures

Who knew that a simple can had the ability to connect people at such a grand scale…

The Parachute Jump

This will be the last installment of my adventures in Coney Island. The Parachute Jump might not be the oldest thing in Luna Park but it still holds some type of deep connotation of Brooklyn in our minds. As if seeing that wiry frame from afar, blazoned with lights, illuminating the night sky, was the Eiffel Tower of Brooklyn; symbolically telling visitors “You’ve arrived, welcome.” and to the Brooklynites “You’re Home.” Nothing beats the first time seeing the Parachute Jump light up the Coney Island skyline. It makes you think of how much you’d rather be there, right in front of it; curiosity over-taking every thought you could possibly concept. “…. I need to be there” I would sometimes whisper to myself as if its presence would make be feel better, happier, more like myself. It’s the nostalgia that calms me every time I see it. Like the waves of the Atlantic Ocean, it lulls every stress away, ultimately bringing me to a simpler time in my life. Such simplicity and innocence that is now coveted but also forgotten for the most part.

The Parachute Jump all began with the World Fair of 1939 in Flushing Meadows, Queens. The fair had seven zones of how to make the normal American’s life improved. In the amusement section, there stood The Parachute Jump created by a man by the name of James Strong of the U.S. Navy. He had already made several variations of the jump; first as a naval training device then in Chicago’s World Fair in 1936 which debuted the “Pair-O-Chutes”. This model was two hundred feet tall and was a remodel of an old observatory tower that was there prior to the Fair. It had six arms that could carry two passengers for each drop. It was major success and that led to it being asked to also feature in the World Fair in New York. So in 1939, Strong built the Parachute Jump at a height of two hundred fifty feet with twelve arms instead of six, the arms carried two people at a time. It costed forty cents for adults and twenty-five cents for children to ride. The passengers were loaded at the bottom of the ride, then ascended into the air before being released at the top, floating to the ground.

June 1947, aerial photo of a daring couple on the ride. Image Credit: Beumann/CORBIS

Just as years before in Chicago, the Parachute Jump was a success. It was so loved that The Tilyou Family (who owned Luna Park at the time) bought the ride for one hundred fifteen thousand dollars and brought to Coney Island and reassembled under the management of, architect, Michael Mario and, engineer, Edwin Kleinert.

Even though the nation went through some very tough times in relation to World War II, The Parachute Jump stood atop the beach literally as a symbol of safety. According to “The Parachute Jump Designation Report” on nyc.gov, the Parachute jump served as a beacon of light for American planes and ships.

 

It stopped production in the late 1960’s but it’s structural skeleton still stands. In 1980 it was admitted into to the collection of National Register of Historic Places. Nine years later it was finally recognized as a New York City Landmark. By 1993, the Parachute Jump was painted in its original colors and stabilized for viewing purposes. The addition of LED lights wasn’t introduced until 2004; this production took two years to complete and made its first public appearance on July 7, 2006.

Now The Parachute Jump is like the Times Square of Brooklyn for New Year’s Eve. It will count down the seconds and illuminate the space at midnight. It has recently become a popular destination for New Yorkers on New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day.

The parachute Jump has become the capital of Coney Island for me. It reminds me of my younger days on the Island and most of the reasons why I’m so proud of my borough.

What does The Parachute Jump mean to you?

Deno’s Wonder Wheel

If anyone would ask eight year old Sabrina what was the scariest amusement park ride she could possibly think of, she would have replied with a very unoriginal kid-type of answer, any crazy roller coaster with all types of loops and anti-gravity. If someone were to propose the same question now, I would answer with The Wonder Wheel or any other Ferris wheel similar to this childhood joy. Something about being flimsily locked into a cage and being rotated and swung, about one hundred fifty feet in the air makes me a bit queasy.

The first stop in the history of Deno’s Wonder Wheel is placed in Atlantic City, New Jersey in 1891 when a carpenter by the name of William Somers placed a file patenting a structure he called a “Roundabout.” He was mass making these Roundabouts for local amusement parks in Atlantic City, Asbury, and Coney Island. His structure was made of wood and lifted its riders fifty feet in the air. Somers wanted to publicize his invention and was the first to patent this idea. With the help of Google Patents which transcribes patents to viewable versions for the internet, I was able to find Somer’s Patent, US489238. It includes his structural drawings to concisely prove the concept of his invention. This is the first patent regarding the Roundabout and all of its successors.

Structural drawing to prove the concept as viable for patent.

Image Credit: Google Patent

According to Smithsonian.com In 1890 architect and urban planner, Daniel Burnham (whom I’ve mentioned in a past post for creating the Flatiron Building), was commissioned to be the Director of Works for the World’s fair of 1893 in Chicago. The city hoped to have him present America with its own version of the beautiful Eiffel Tower. Desperate for an answer to the city’s need, Burnham held his own contest with engineers to invent something that would be the show-stopping piece for the fair. As a response to Burnham’s request, George Washington Gale Ferris Jr., a thirty-three year old engineer native to Pittsburgh, came up with an idea for a pleasure wheel much akin to Somer’s Roundabout although his would be illuminated and made of steel which increased the diameter of fifty feet to two hundred fifty feet. It would be delicate and tensile, Ferris thought it was perfect for the program but Burnham shot down his idea since he felt that it was too fragile to safely carry passengers at that height. Instead of giving up on his dream, Ferris commissioned the project by himself with twenty-five thousand dollars. On June 21, 1893 he debuted his structure as the Eiffel Tower of the fair; it was a success. From then on, Somers was forgotten in the public eye and we now refer to Roundabouts as Ferris Wheels.

On Memorial Day of 1920 Charles Herman, engineer, opened a Ferris wheel to the public. Its conception took about nineteen months with the help of the Eccentric Ferris Wheel Company. it was one hundred fifty feet in diameter and could have as many as one hundred forty-four passengers at maximum capacity. This two hundred ton beauty had a total of twenty-four cars (sixteen stationary cars which are on the outer circle of the wheel and eight cars that rock for the real thrill-seekers which are in the center) all of which could hold up to six people. Herman named the wheel “Dip-the-Dip” and it remained in his service and care for the next years until his death. His son Fred Garms took over the legacy and took care of the ride while making his own additions, like the “Spook-a-rama”. In 1983, Garms sold the rides to a Greek born immigrant by the name of Constantinos Dionysios “Deno” Vourderis for two hundred fifty thousand dollars.

Image Credit: Atlas Obscura

This is where the name that we all grew up with, comes into light, “Deno’s Wonder Wheel Amusement Park”. In 1948, Deno had proposed to his wife in front of the Wonder Wheel; in addition to promising to love and stand by her for the rest of his life, he also promised to buy the Wonder Wheel, one day, and buy her a ring she deserved; he kept those promises. In 1994, Deno passed away leaving his sons to take on his legacy just as Herman and his son.

To this day, The Wonder Wheel has a perfect safety record after ninety-seven years in business and is the best example of care for an amusement park ride. It is also deemed the most romantic ride since it’s seen many proposals. The public loved the ride so much that there are two known replicas in California and Japan.

Shown in this image is the Greek flag which is to represent Deno’s heritage.

From family to family the Wonder Wheel was passed and every owner deeply cared for it; having this remarkable desire to keep everyone safe by maintaining the wheel’s health.

The Cyclone

My family never had the kind of money for splurges like annual summer vacations, weekly family staycations, or money fueled kid-friendly activities on the daily; so whenever my and my sister’s birthday came around, we knew it was our chance to go to Coney Island. I grew up with good ol’ fashioned Deno’s Wonder Wheel Park and Astroland that had awesome kiddie rides which look laughable now but held my interest in my younger years. We would spend the entire day there regardless of the weather. It was a real amusement park sandwich, rides in the morning, lunch break, more rides, sunset on the beach, and more rides before going home, well into dusk. Once it was later in the night and my sister and I began to get tired, my mother and grandmother would take the chance to have some quality time with my older sister, who had to be subjected to our child-friendly amusement for the whole day. I remember it so vividly, the way my older sister and whomever rode with her, would walk valiantly towards a monster of ride that I was way too small to handle. The bravery exuded from their demeanor and I always admired it. Me and my other sister would wait on the street adjacent to the buzzy lights that illuminated The Cyclone sign; we’d listen carefully, sifting through the screams of terror and pleasure, in the hopes of hearing those of our sister. To my young mind riding The Cyclone was a rite of passage; You knew how mature, courageous, and utterly awesome you were if you were able to be graced with a turn on this rickety wooden roller coaster.

The Cyclone opened to the public on a bright summer day of June 26, 1927. Its precedent, The Giant Racer, was torn down in 1926 in order to make way for the production of the new Cyclone designed by Vernon Keenan and constructed with the help of the Harry C. Baker Company which supplied all the iron, steel, and lumber needed to develop this beautiful creature. Production cost was around one hundred thousand dollars and only cost twenty-five cents to ride, once it was completed. It was unheard of for the time, a coaster that had fifty-eight point one degree drops, according to nyc.gov, and zipped through the air at sixty miles per hour speed from eighty-five foot elevations. It holds up to twenty-four passengers and the duration of the entire ride is about two minutes. For the time, it was the second-steepest roller coaster in the world.

As of 2005 four reproductions were made in the Cyclones’ honor around the world.

Something so technologically pure being made over ninety years ago seems as astounding and mind-boggling as the Egyptians stacking billions of mud bricks and heavy stones in order to make the Pyramids of Giza. I consciously make that magnified comparison since The Cyclone is one of Brooklyn’s most treasured gems.

Taking these photos made me reminiscent of my childhood and how much the island changed over the years. I remember Coney Island before all this “remastered Luna Park business” came onto the shore; although the new Luna Park is a very nice amusement park, I want to give a recognition to the kids who rode the Tilt-A-whirl before you had to walk through some man’s exaggerated maniacal open mouth in order to get there.

To all my Astroland veterans, y’all remember those days?