The District

With velvet curtains, old art, and gilded mirrors, the Auction House resembles a centuries-old salon. Although regal and classic, I found it to be very approachable. The exposed brick walls – now a common feature of New York City bars – and warm, low lighting makes the space seem more like someone’s living room than a museum. The cozy drape-enclosed rooms attract locals who enjoy huddling around the fireplaces in the cooler months. The bar calls itself a “diamond in the rough, ” a term with which I heartily agree. I spoke to Johnny B. Barounis, who explained that when he first opened the bar in 1993, it was the only one of its kind. Johnny got his start in 1978 working the door at places like the China Club. He prided himself on being “the first person somebody sees on the way in, and the last on the way out. ” After a while, he became tired of the “big, loud, schmaltz-filled nightclubs” and wanted to open a place where people could have conversations and escape the chaos of the city. He opened the Auction House, which earned its name because most of its furniture and art came from the auction houses that Johnny scoured throughout the Northeast. The reproductions of old paintings, especially by Rembrandt and De Goya, fit very well in the space, which, being an old carriage house, has fifteen foot ceilings. As for the furniture, “the turn of the century motif will never go out of style, ” Johnny said while discussing the timelessness of his design choices. At the time, the only real bars were traditional Irish ones, so Johnny was a true innovator in creating something more like a drawing room or a parlor – “a lounge. ” “We were one of the first lounges in the city. Now everyone has a lounge, ” Johnny stated, adding that many policies that are now commonplace were first set into motion by the Auction House. For example, after spending many years running the doors of nightclubs and seeing the damage that people fresh out of college (“In their fifth year of college, ” as he put it) could do, Johnny implemented an over-25-only rule, which was enforced with ID checks at the door. He also did not allow baseball hats: “It’s always the kid with the baseball cap that causes problems. ” As a big animal rights activist, he does not allow fur to be worn in his establishment. The Auction House also has never had any signage. When the lounge first opened, not having a sign was a very risky move. It soon leant the place a sense of mystery and privacy, however, suggesting that patrons of the bar “had to know about it. ” The policy attracted quite a few celebrities, including many SNL cast members. These days, however, many bars opt to have no sign. Johnny suggested that he has considered adding a sign to the auction house, just because the idea of having no marking on a bar has become so mainstream. Johnny is very proud to have been continually running a bar for over twenty years. “In this city, four years is considered a long run. ” More specifically, however, Johnny is happy to have designed a space where people can make connections. “Five different people met their spouse here in our first year, ” he said, proudly. “We’re putting people together. ”

It is not every day that one can walk into a bar at six o'clock in the evening and be greeted by an eighty-four year old woman in a soft pink cardigan sweater with pearl buttons, serving beer to her customers. "She is our shining beacon, " one of the gentlemen announced as soon as he saw the expression on my face. He then told me that Rosie began working at Rief's Tavern as a young woman, when there used to be a kitchen in the back. She would cook side by side with "Mama Reif. " Today, the kitchen is gone, but what remains is a room complete with a pool table, shuffle board and golf machine. Farther back, there is an outdoor garden. Rosie returns each Wednesday to act as the bartender and to serve her loyal customers. "We are doing our best to keep her out of retirement, " one gentleman piped in. He told me that he travels in from Queens every week "just to sit at the bar and order a drink from our Rosie. " Rosie smiled and commented, “I've been around a long time, but that doesn't mean I'm the best bartender. " Apparently, others do not agree. Before I could fully explain my reason for stopping by, several people interrupted me, wanting to tell me not only about Rosie the bartender, but about the history of their neighborhood tavern. Michael and his friend Susan were kind enough to speak on behalf of everyone, as he seemed to have been coming to Reif's the longest. Michael has lived in the area for his entire life. When he was just a toddler, his mom would "kick" both he and his dad out of their apartment on Saturday afternoons, so that she could clean, and his dad would take him to Reif's. This was in the early 1960s. Today, at the age of fifty-three, Michael still lives nearby and continues to patronize the tavern. As for the origins of the bar, John and Bobby were two brothers who opened Reif's in 1942 and then were clever enough to purchase the building a number of years later. In 2016, the next two generations are still running the place and living upstairs. The environment that these two men created years ago has continued on, so much so that Michael told me that though they might be considered a "dive bar, " to the many locals who frequent Reif's almost every night, but, he said "This is family. " The regulars are involved in every aspect of each other's lives, attending celebrations from births to funerals. They even "abandon the bar sometimes" to go bowling together, and have traveled as far as Barbados as one big happy crew - including the Reifs. After spending a very pleasant time with this splendid group of regulars, I received one more heart-warming quote from Michael: "This place is not just about having a cocktail in a bar, it is more like a social club that if you're lucky enough, you get to be in it. "

The first Pio Pio location opened in 1994 in Queens, and since then, the restaurant has expanded to nine locations throughout the boroughs. Pio Pio is the place to go for chicken, as they have gained a strong reputation for their numerous Peruvian poultry dishes: the menu pairs the juicy meat with a variety of different sauces. The staff assured me that Juanita’s Chicken is especially popular, as are the combos that come with fries or salad, but it is Pio Pio's special green sauce that is the shining star.

Despite its limited size, one could spend an entire day in George Glazer Gallery and probably still not see everything that the space has to offer. There are fascinating items covering every nook and cranny, from the ceiling to the staircase to the bathroom. Though there are many pieces, as George says, it is “exciting clutter” rather than overwhelming clutter, and a true treasure hunt to look through. I kept finding surprises, such as a column made from the inside of a piano, a set of miniature fire tools, and strings of scorekeeping devices for games of pool dangling high above my head. After years as a corporate attorney, George embraced his love of collecting art and opened his gallery in 1993. He began on the corner of Madison Avenue and 72nd Street, on an upper floor, but recently moved north due to rising rents. As he pointed out, however, the internet has made it so that it is no longer as important to have a prestigious address. According to George, having a well-maintained website and good social media skills is far more crucial to running a successful antique business. He also assured me that he has a strong international client base that reaches out to him online. Even though he has moved away from Madison Avenue, George is very happy to have found his current side street location. He loves the ceilings, which remind him of the original definition of “gallery, ” a room in an English country house with tall ceilings. There is a garden out back that George occasionally uses for storage and events. The biggest change he has encountered, however, is foot traffic. Now that he is on the ground floor, he has more people coming by to stare in the window and occasionally wander in. Though many pieces originate from outside the United States, such as a long Tibetan instrument mounted on the wall and the Venetian glass sconces made in the shape of clowns, most of the items in the gallery were purchased in the States. “There’s a remarkable amount of stuff here already, ” George commented. He not only collects pieces: George is also somewhat of an artist in his own right in the way that he arranges things, along with his gallery manager, Jeffrey. For example, I saw an old employee time card grid covered in various antique ornaments. The result was a visually fascinating display. “We make our own little art, ” George said with a smile, gesturing to a figure of Humpty Dumpty sitting on a bed of coral above the doorway. George’s passion is definitely globes. He has a vast collection, spanning from a rare celestial globe to an enormous thirty-six inch specimen. More generally, George’s taste leans towards items that have a practical or scientific purpose. He also collects judges’ gavels and has a fair number of door knockers. After observing as much as I could upfront, we proceeded to the back of the shop where George puts pieces that he is particularly fond of close to his desk so that he can appreciate them most of the day. My eye went right to a wooden satyr face and an odd madmen-esque desk sign that reads “MISS PARR. ”After showing me the back room where he occasionally fixes things, and telling me about a few prop-rental projects he has taken part in, George became introspective. “This place is an alter ego, ” he admitted. “It’s for sale, but it’s what I like. ” He continued on to say that his very specific style is not for everyone, but at the same time, he is confident that his often minimalist, modern antiques can fit into a wide variety of design schemes. His gallery is purposefully set up so that customers can see how things might look in a lived-in space. “It’s more like a place where people live. ” That is, if the people living there are slightly eccentric. “We have a lot of odd things, ” George confessed laughing.

The old wall that now forms one side of the Hunter College High School used to be part of the Squadron A Armory, built in 1895. Though the armory was demolished in the 1960’s to make way for the school, the grand façade remains. Squadron A was an elite cavalry that was formed in 1884 when a social club, the New-York Hussars, decided to begin military drills. In 1889, the group joined the New York State National Guard. They raised money for the armory, which was built to imitate a Norman castle with square towers and turrets. In what is now the Hunter College High School playground, the armory contained a riding ring. Squadron A took part in many World War I and World War II battles during which, they were incorporated into the 101st Cavalry. After the world wars, the Squadron became a social organization, hosting polo games on Saturday nights, until New York State abandoned the armory and decided to build a school. In 1966, however, right before workers were about to demolish it, the Madison Avenue side of the armory was declared a landmark. The school complex, therefore, built around the wall.