A Tragic Day on Genesee Street

As I probably mentioned on this blog before, I’m a native of Buffalo, New York.  I still live there and I find the history of the city fascinating.  I love finding old photos of Buffalo, and I’m always pleasantly surprised when I find an old picture of Buffalo in a mainstream publication.  While looking through a book on photographic history not long ago I came across this photograph taken by I. Russell Sorgi.  Taken on May 7, 1942 and called Suicide (also referred to as Genesee Hotel Suicide or The Despondant Divorcee), it is a disturbing photo that captures an event that no one would voluntarily choose to witness:

A little background information might be useful before I go on.  The photo was taken in front of the Genesee Hotel that stood on the corner of Genesee and Pearl Streets in downtown Buffalo (more on the building a little later on).  It shows a woman named Mary Miller falling to her death after jumping from an eighth story window.  Captured just a fraction of a second before Miller’s violent end, the photo made headlines and became well-known nationally after it was reprinted in Life magazine a few weeks after the incident.  The photographer was I(gnatius) Russell Sorgi, a staff photographer for Buffalo’s Courier Express newspaper.  Sorgi happened to be close by when the events at the Genesee Hotel were unfolding, and he explained the origins of the photo afterwards:

“I snatched my camera from the car and took two quick shots as she seemed to hesitate…As quickly as possible I shoved the exposed film into the case and reached for a fresh holder.  I no sooner had pulled the slide out and got set for another shot than she waved to the crowd below and pushed herself into space.  Screams and shouts burst from the horrified onlookers as her body plummeted toward the street.  I took a firm grip on myself, waited until the woman passed the second or third story, and then shot.”

Reading the quote over 70 years after the fact, Sorgi’s account can seem a little callous.  His description of the event seems indifferent to the plight of Mary Miller, but his words really underscore the difference between photography then and now.  People in the 1940s owned cameras, but they were used for special occasions.  They would take their cameras on vacations or to birthday parties, but didn’t take them to work with them.  There were other witnesses to this particular event (a woman in uniform, believed by some to be a meter maid, is rushing into the building, and the waiter in the coffee shop seems aware of a commotion outside) but none of them would have had cameras with them.  Sorgi was perhaps the only person in the immediate area with a camera at the ready, and he realized that the picture he took was different than other crime photos of the day.  Since photography was a more complicated process back then (through Sorgi’s description you can tell that his camera was definitely not point-and-shoot) and most photos of crimes or tragedies were taken after the event had already occurred.  This photo is a great example:

That photo, taken after a train accident at Montparnasse Station in Parisin 1895, really illustrates how documentary photos worked back then.  Photo could be a time-consuming process and cameras were bulky, so they were often brought in to document the aftermath of an event.  In the above photo, the event had already happened.  This makes it no less disturbing, for sure, but by the time the photo was taken the train was essentially debris waiting to be cleaned up.  Sorgi captured Murray’s tragic suicide while it was happening.  Catching something like this (however gruesome) was extremely rare and Sorgi was literally in the right place at the right time. He knew capturing this moment in this way was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.   We tend to take photography for granted and treat it as something that everyone has access to.  A recent tragedy that really illustrates the difference between then and now is the Boston Marathon bombing.  Literally hundreds of people were recording the finish line before and after the attack, creating an almost continuous record of the bombing and its aftermath.  Sorgi’s words may seem seem a little harsh, but perhaps we can forgive him a little for realizing that he was both witness to, and sole recorder of, a tragic event.

After discovering the photo, I was interested in finding out where it had taken place.  The sign for the Genesee Hotel is clearly visible in the photo, and Genesee Street is a major street in downtown Buffalo (although it’s been altered quite a bit since the photo was taken).  There’s a major hotel there today (the Hyatt) and I assumed that this is where the event had taken place.  But after studying the architecture of the Hyatt (originally called the Genesee Building) I know that wasn’t the place.  The first floors of the Hyatt are glass and bronze, not the brick and concrete visible in the Sorgi photo.  After doing a little digging I found this postcard reproduced on the Buffalo Police Department website:

Arrow added by the Buffalo Police Department

That image shows a building attached to the Buffalo YMCA building (on the left) that matches the lower floors of the building visible in the Sorgi photo.  There’s a ledge at the eighth floor (Miller was described as jumping from an eighth story ledge) and a different photo taken after Sorgi’s clearly shows the YMCA in the background.

I was able to find another old photo that shows where the building stood in relation to the surrounding buildings, some of which are still there.

This photo shows the Genesee Building (now the Buffalo Hyatt) on the right, the white Victor and Co. building in the center (since demolished) and the Genesee Hotel to the left (outlined in red).

The building doesn’t exist anymore.  The most recent photo I was able to find of the old Genesee Hotel (that was later used as the YMCA Men’s Hotel) was from 1978.  It looks as if the building is in the early stages of demolition here:

The low building blocking the YMCA is the Buffalo Convention Center.  The entrance to the Genesee Hotel (at this point the YMCA Men's Hotel) seems partially boarded up.

I visited the site recently and it’s changed quite a bit.  The YMCA is still there, but the grand entrance that once faced Genesee Street is now found crammed into an alley.  Genesee Street was removed during the construction of the much-maligned Buffalo Convention Center, and the north entrances to the convention center now sit where Genesee Street once did.  The spot where the Genesee Hotel stood it now occupied by a modern office building and courtyard, and it’s hard to get a sense of where exactly the tragedy took place.  The sidewalk has been widened, and the removal of Genesee Street (which ran diagonally across Pearl Street) makes it hard to get a sense of how the building sat in relation to the street. 

The once grand entrance to the YMCA is now banished to a narrow alley

The entrance to the Genesee Hotel visible in Sorgi's photo stood roughly where this courtyard is now.

 

The Genesee Hotel stood to the right from this viewpoint.  The elevated walkway to the left connects the Convention Center to the Hyatt across the street

This isn't and exact side-by-side comparison, but it really shows how much the street has changed since 1942.

We tend to take photos of every moment of our lives now.  New technology is being developed that will actually take photos of our surroundings constantly, so we never have to miss anything.  The problem with that is that most of our lives are pretty ordinary.  It’s the rare and special moments in our lives that we want to remember, and that’s what photo used to be saved for.  You brought out the camera to commemorate those special times.  Sorgi’s photo functions in that way too, but on a much darker scale.  Tragic moments in life occur as well, and sometimes these moments are over in an instant.  When captured at just the right time, they can serve as horrifying reminders of tragedy and loss.

Next time, a new (and hopefully happier) topic.  It might be something you've never heard of.

Montreal's Fleur de Lys Theare; Post Script

Wow.  I received quite a response for my last series of posts that I wasn't really expecting (but was definitely welcome).  This blog is still new and this was my first experience with crowd sourcing my research.  Normally when I begin one of my posts, I know at least a little bit about the topic I'm writing about, and have the basic facts straight.  In this case, I was missing the artist altogether.  Readers in Montreal found the story and ran with it, as the saying goes.  I still don't have a name, but I'm closer to the truth and have the on-line community to thank (read my previous post here and here and here).

Special thanks are due to Jim Forbes and Dominic Gascon.  Mr. Forbes commented on my post last week and identified himself as someone who worked on the building in the past.  He gave me quite a bit of useful information (more on that below).  Mr. Gascon is a current employee at Stereo Nightclub (the building's current tenant) and he posed my question to social media, generating dozens of comments and guesses in the process.  

Apparently the building is German in origin (not Canadian as I originally assumed).  According to Mr. Forbes, the mural was designed in Germany and meant to invoke Haida imagery.  The forms on the facade of the Fleur de Lys really don't capture the spirit of Haida art, but that can probably be expected from an artist working in another country, and not really fully aware of the iconography they're working with (or the region, Haida art originates in Western Canada).  I've got some good leads to go on, and once I can name a specific architectural firm or artist, I'll post an update (and perhaps be able to find another building designed by the same architect).

A true example of Haida art, much different than what appears on the Fleur de Lys

Thanks again to everyone who contributed to my search or just took a little time to think about something they might not have noticed in the past.  It is through you that the history of this building, as well as the history of Montreal, lives on.

Montreal's Fleur de Lys Theater, part 3

As I continue to search for the specific architect/artist who designed Montreal’s Fleur de Lys cinema, I continue to come up against dead ends.  Simple Google searches didn’t get me far, and I have only been able to find brief references through other sources.  I studied nearby architecture built around the same time, and that didn’t yield any results either.  I had been pointed in the direction of Montreal’s Place des Arts, but the architects who designed those various buildings didn’t seem like a stylistic match to the concrete frieze that decorates the Fleur de Lys.  I thought the next logical step would be to study the artists and sculptors whose work is displayed throughout the complex.  Perhaps that would lead to a solution.

"I will haunt you in your dreams" -Montreal's Fleur de Lys Cinema

 

I’ve sort of been doing this since this research began, really.  I couldn’t put an artist’s name to the Fleur de Lys decoration, so I tried researching artists who were working at the same time the cinema was built (the late 60s).  I might be able to find an artist working in the same style.  Because of the World’s Fair held in Montreal in 1967 (Expo 67) the city was overflowing with public art and monuments, and the task wouldn’t be easy.

I was able to find several artists who share stylistic elements with the frieze, but none seemed to be a good match.  Some of the artists I researched included:

Jordi Bonet

Bonet seemed promising for a while.  He produced large amounts of public art throughout Montreal (including a mural at the Place des Arts) and much of it takes the form of murals made out of various materials including concrete, ceramic, and metal.  But, his work doesn’t look exactly like what’s on the side of the Fleur de Lys.  Bonet’s work is often much more detailed and can tell a much more recognizable story (he created a lot of Christian-themed murals for churches).   I also discovered a fairly comprehensive list of Bonet’s work on the web, and the Fleur de Lys theater wasn’t part of it.  Strike one.

A Jordi Bonet mural

Charles Daudelin

Like Bonet, Daudelin also created several public art pieces that can be found all over Montreal (both artists created pieces for the city’s Metro system).  They were also both well-established artists in the late 60s.  A Daudelin sculpture is placed in the lobby of the Theatre Maisonneuve at the Place des Arts, and like much of Daudelin’s art it is composed of abstract forms that can vaguely resemble human or animal forms.  There seemed to be a slight connection to the Fleur de Lys mural, but just like with Bonet, the differences outweighed the similarities.  Daudelin was also fairly well established at the time, and I could find no documentation that listed the Fleur de Lys frieze as one of his artworks.  Strike two.

 

A free-standing Daudelin sculpture

 Sorel Etrog

Of all the artists I researched trying to find answers for this post, Etrog seemed to get me the closest.  His work is somewhat biomorphic, he was active in the 1960s, and would occasionally create murals or relief sculptures (although most of what I saw consisted of free-standing sculptures).  But, like with all the artists I researched, I was able to find no documentation linking Etrog to the sculpture in question.  Strike three (really something like strike 27 at this point – I have researched so many artists at this point I’ve lost count.  These three were just the closest matches I found).

Two figures by Etrog

So I must end this series of posts with a question mark.  I hate loose ends, but I’m afraid I must move on for the sake of my precious sanity.  I’ve wrapped my head around this thing dozens of different ways over the last few weeks and really feel I need to turn my attention to new things.  At least for now.  My research will continue, but in the background.  There are still some resources that I can turn to, and I'll post an update if I can ever find more specific information.  

At this point, one may ask why I even care.  The building and its decorated frieze obviously aren’t important enough to garner much attention, and thousands of people probably walk by everyday and don’t even bother looking up.  But it’s there just the same, and there are people who do care.  As an artist myself, I know how much time and energy goes into the creation of a work of art.  This piece was made by someone, and the last thing this artist wanted was to be forgotten.  

Next time, I (reluctantly) move on to a new topic.  It might be something you've never heard of.