|
August 6, 1999 Two Generations of Gentrifiers Try to Shape the Destiny of a Williamsburg Neighborhood By Arun Kristian Das When Gail Vachon woke up one morning last spring and looked out her window, she was not pleased to see workers ratcheting away in the empty garage across North Fifth Street in the Williamsburg section of Brooklyn. The actual noise did not bother her so much as the realization of what was being built. Vachon's inquiries revealed that the 5,000-square-foot space, formerly a bus garage, had been leased and was being renovated into a restaurant, bar and music club to be called "Gypsy." "This is a quiet neighborhood and we don't need a rock and roll club on our block," said Vachon, 50, an animator. "It's not going to be a 'rock club,'" said Cathrine Westergaard, 30, one of Gypsy's four partners. "People are afraid it's going to be another CBGB's, but it's not." Westergaard, a painter, said that Gypsy will provide a place for local residents -- artists, singers, poets or whomever -- to come and enjoy a lively atmosphere. The plans include a full restaurant in addition to two bars plus a small stage to host poetry readings, cabaret music and performance art. Change is not new to Williamsburg in general or the Bedford Avenue area in particular. Fifty years ago this neighborhood, just like the nearby Brooklyn Navy Yards, was home to heavy industry. But with the ebb of manufacturing in recent years has come a boom in residential and retail occupancy. Many newcomers are in their twenties or thirties and fled the high rents of Manhattan to settle in spacious and affordable converted warehouse lofts. Small businesses such as cafés, juice bars and video stores have sprung up to cater to this revitalized community, and now Gypsy is trying to take the concept one step further. "Change is good, but change can come too fast," said Vachon, a native New Yorker who has lived in Williamsburg for 14 years. "I liked change up until a point, but now I don't like it anymore." Vachon lives with her husband, Jon Rubin, a native of Boston, in a three-story building right across the street from the front of the future restaurant and club. A housing complex called Northside Gardens flanks either side of the site of the establishment, and down the street, on the corner of Bedford Avenue, a development company plans to open loft apartments and small retail spaces in what was once a textile factory. But while the character of the immediate block is residential, the neighborhood is zoned for mixed use -- residential and commercial -- and as such, is also home to a used-car dealership, a trucking company and a meat-packing plant. While CJ Auto Sales and Rizzo Trucking are not on Vachon's block, they occupy the next corner at Berry Street. The trucking company features six active driveways and the car dealership also hosts a busy auto body shop. The entrance to M&V Provision Company, the meat-packing plant, is on North Sixth Street, but the rear of the building extends to North Fifth. "They're pouring money into Gypsy," said Aggie Mullaney-Straus, 36, a neighbor of Vachon's for eight years. "They're going to need to make money. To do that, they need to sell lots of alcohol." Indeed, alcohol is at the center of the controversy. Because the area's zoning permits almost any kind of business, residents cannot take any real legal action against Gypsy other than to voice strong opposition to the granting of a liquor license. Vachon and her husband have tried to organize a neighborhood group to oppose the license. Although 40 people gathered at one local community board meeting to oppose Gypsy, "It's hard to keep people active," said Rubin, 52, a film maker and college professor. Now he, his wife and Mullaney-Straus, a native of Saratoga Springs, N.Y., are the de facto leaders of the movement against the proposed restaurant and club. They have pointed out that the neighborhood already has numerous establishments serving alcohol, and that yet another one -- especially one of Gypsy's size -- is too much for the community to handle. By their count, there are 12 bars in a five-block radius. While this is essentially correct, at least four of the bars also have full-fledged kitchens and thus can be considered restaurants. And Gypsy's owners point out that their club will not simply be a bar, but a larger experience. The restaurant will offer a lunch menu from 11 a.m. onwards and a full dinner menu in the evening, said Andrew Engelson, 25, one of the owners. He also noted that although the space is 5,000 square feet, the actual amount of square footage devoted to active use will be around 3,500. The rest will be storage, refrigeration and bathroom facilities. The application for the liquor license is pending with the State Liquor Authority. While authority officials act autonomously, various parties have voiced strong objection. Among them is State Senator Martin Connor of Brooklyn and Manhattan who in a letter to the Liquor Authority wrote, "Residents fear they will soon be overwhelmed by customers coming in and out of the club at all hours, double parked cars, and noise." Connor did not respond to requests for further comment. And his letter is not the only one to come from a politician. State Assemblyman Joseph Lentol and City Councilman Kenneth Fisher, both of Brooklyn, have written similar letters. Westergaard, Engelson and the other two partners -- Michael Kearny and Leo Nicholas, have gathered their own set of letters, primarily from area residents and business owners. The owners say Gypsy will be a friendly and respectable place that will be a boon for the local economy and property values. In addition to the letters, the Gypsy owners obtained 496 signatures on a petition that represents residents of Williamsburg who "are in support of the proposed establishment." "We're going to turn the neighborhood around," said Kearny, who in addition to being a Gypsy partner is owner of The Abbey, a pub on nearby Driggs Avenue. "I owned the original Abbey Pub on 105th Street [in Manhattan] for 25 years and it helped turn around the Upper West Side." Naturally, most of the concerns by residents continue to focus on the noise, traffic congestion and customer rowdiness that Gypsy may bring. While Gypsy's partners have attempted to quell their fears by promising soundproofing, security and high standards, residents remain skeptical. "We don't trust them," Mullaney-Straus said. "It's not that they aren't nice people -- they are. It's just that we don't know what the place will turn into six months or a year down the road, regardless of their good intentions." That Kearny, Westergaard, Engelson and Nicholas have the right to open Gypsy is not in question. The zoning laws and their ability to pay the 20-year lease grant that right to them. But the matter is complicated with the need to address the rights of families who make the their homes next to the trucks and bars. "Can you set limits to change?" Rubin said. "Can a neighborhood control its own destiny?" ### |