a small-business passion project
There's been much hand wringing and few solutions for the problem of local businesses rapidly closing up shop in Manhattan. What we can do, and what we should do, is to treasure the small businesses that survive and continue to grace our streets.
My passion project since 2011 has been to support and promote the thousands of small businesses on the side streets of Manhattan. In the past six years I have literally walked and catalogued every one. You can go to Manhattan Sideways (sideways.nyc) to see all the small businesses.
Beginning on First Street, I have walked from the East River to the Hudson documenting every shop, boutique, restaurant, bar, garden, hotel, church, synagogue, gallery and much more. This summer, I reached the pinnacle of my journey — 155th Street — where the original Manhattan Grid ended. As I worked my way north over the course of the past six years, I've also been continuously updating the site to reflect establishments that are opening and closing on a daily basis.
There are over 14,000 “businesses” reflected on Manhattan Sideways plus 40,000 photographs. In addition to having all commercial enterprises listed, we also tell the stories of owners in the Side Picks section.
Sadly, I'm witnessing shops in business for 50 to 100 years being forced to close their doors, many times because the building has been scheduled to be torn down to make way for a large apartment complex, or the rent has been raised so high that it is, inevitably, a chain store that will replace them. Lately, I've found that small businesses aren't even surviving a year on a side street. It's my passion to have New Yorkers support the staples in their neighborhood, and to get out and explore other neighborhood areas to find the amazing gems that are hidden on every single side street. These small businesses are part of what make our city unique.
My journey has allowed me glimpses into the lives of iconic New Yorkers, such as Ruth Kuzub, the owner of Silversmith on West 4th Street — considered to be the smallest retail space in Manhattan. She has been operating her jewelry store here since she took it over in 1960. She continues to make many of her own wares, and only sells pieces that she loves. Well into her eighties, she still goes to work most days — at least whenever the sun is shining. Ruth told us in the interview that “I'm the last of all the artists who were on the street.” While she has managed to maintain her small store at the address — 183 ¾ West Fourth Street — many have not been as fortunate. Creative, independent stores like the Silversmith are too quickly becoming few and far between.
Another story that continues to resonate with me is that of Lou Lou Button. Owner Roz Farhadi arrived in New York from Iran in 1978. He applied to universities in the States without discussing it with his family. Roz said that when he told his mother that he had been accepted at Brooklyn Polytechnic, she asked “where is America?” She spoke no English and did not write, but she took her small parcel of jewelry, the only possession that she had, and sold it. She gave the money to her son and sent him off to follow his dream. After earning a degree in engineering, he began working for a company on Fifth Avenue. During his lunch break one day, he wandered into a shop and picked up an interesting button and inquired about purchasing some of them. When he was told that it would take a few weeks for the buttons to arrive in the store, Roz immediately thought to himself, “I am going to make this.”
Today, 20 years later, Roz has a tiny but successful store on West 38th Street where he designs and makes buttons for the fashion industry, Broadway shows, the Metropolitan Opera and New York City Ballet.
And then there is Grandma's Place, a children's educational toy and book store at 84 West 120th Street that is a gem in Harlem. People do not only stop into Grandma's Place to pick up a gift for a birthday party, or something special for their own child. During my visits, on several occasions, it seemed that the entire neighborhood was dropping by simply to receive a warm hug from Dawn Harris-Martinez, and possibly sticking around a bit longer to entertain their little ones, or share some local gossip with the owner of this remarkable staple on 120th Street. Without a doubt, Dawn — a former school teacher who was the first in her family to go to college and originally opened the space as a literacy center — has earned the beloved title of “Grandmother of the neighborhood.”
As a lifetime New Yorker, my goal for Manhattan Sideways is to encourage others to venture out, to discover and appreciate some of what I have had the pleasure of experiencing for the past several years, and to, of course, support the small businesses in our city.