NYC's Past Lives On In The Ghost Signs Of Downtown Manhattan

Frank Mastropolo has long paid attention to the signs around him. A third generation East Village resident who has observed the neighborhood's changes "since beatniks roamed the Earth," Mastropolo sees the history of the city in even the faintest details: "The Anderson Theater, where Janis Joplin made her New York debut, is gone, but the curtain cartouches on its facade remain," he pointed out to Gothamist.

Mastropolo, 67, has recently released Ghost Signs: Clues To Downtown New York's Past, which has photos and the stories behind more than 100 signs of businesses that have disappeared in Lower Manhattan. Mastropolo first began writing about the ghost signs in 2014, penning several blog posts about them for Bedford & Bowery with headlines like: "Is This the Last Relic of the Hippies on St. Marks Place?"

To find the ghost signs, he turned to the work of photographer Walter Grutchfield ("the dean of New York's ghost signs"), and websites including Fading Ad Campaign, Ephemeral New York, and a Ghost Signs Facebook group where people flag signs that have been revealed during building renovations. But mostly, he and his spouse relied on their own eyes: "My wife Beverly spotted many of the book's signs as we walked around the city," he said. "I'm usually watching for bikes and skateboards."

The key to telling the age of a sign is in the material used to make it: "Signs painted on walls are the oldest; they've survived because the white lead paint leached into the brick," he explained. "Neon was introduced in the U.S. in 1923, plastic after World War II. A sign's old-fashioned typography is also a clue. Sculptures were popular, with horse heads used to advertise stables."

He points to the American Express sign at 55 Laight Street as an example: "American Express began as an express delivery company in the mid-1800s, when horse-drawn carriages were used for local deliveries. A terra-cotta watchdog, which represented safety and security, was Amex's logo until the end of the 19th century; it can be seen over its former stables in Tribeca."

Mastropolo thinks it's a mistake to believe that the current spate of development is unusual for New York. He takes a look at the history of the neighborhoods south of 14th Street in the book: "In the mid-1800s, the Lower East Side was home to 60,000 Germans and was known as Kleindeutschland, or Little Germany. A sign for the German-American Shooting Society ("Unity Makes Strength") remains on St. Marks Place. Nearby, Yiddish theater thrived at the beginning of the twentieth century—signage for the Hebrew Actors' Union survives nearby. Businesses lasted decades then but when A&P moved into the East Village in the early 1960s, it wiped out a lot of small groceries. It's nothing new."

One of the oldest ghost signs in the book is actually a double ghost sign/palimpsest from the 1800s, now located at 316 Bleecker Street: "It was uncovered in 2014 when a laundry's sign was removed," Mastropolo said. "The sign for Samuel Tuck, an importer of embroidery and lace, was painted over by one for Mrs. A. Swinton, a millinery shop in the mid-1860s. Periods were used after the store names and building number, 302. Buildings on the block were renumbered after the shops disappeared."

In another chapter of the book, he examines signs the film industry has used to recreate the past in Lower Manhattan, which includes a sign with a connection to one of the greatest movies of all time. "An ancient Parodi Cigars sign can still be spotted on East Sixth Street," he said. "It seems authentic, as Parodi is a company that dates to 1913. But the Parodi sign was painted during filming of 1974's The Godfather, Part II. Set designers transformed Sixth Street between Avenues A and B into 1917 Little Italy. The Parodi sign can be seen in long shots of the block."

Another favorite of Mastropolo's is the one for Shulman's School of Commerce, which offered classes in the English language, typing and stenography to Jewish immigrants in the early twentieth century. "Vine leaves camouflage the sign for most of the year. Anthology Film Archives was kind enough to give me access to its roof to photograph the sign and The Forward found and provided translations of the school's ads, which were in Yiddish."

You can get more info about the book here.