By Andrea Sachs
Living down the block from the Dakota can be a trippy experience. That’s where John Lennon and Yoko Ono lived together from 1972 until December 8, 1980, when John was shot and killed in the building’s driveway as he and Ono came home that night. Today, seven days a week, giant buses disgorge throngs of tourists outside of the historic apartment building on West 72nd Street and Central Park West. The Tower of Babel can’t begin to compete with the number of languages spoken by these thousands of travelers.
I am convinced that many of the pilgrims to the Dakota, too young or geographically distant to have experienced Beatlemania firsthand, have little or no idea why the building is even a stop on their itinerary. Time flies, fellow Boomers — the Beatles first appeared on The Ed Sullivan Show 60 years ago this month, in front of an audience of 73 million people.
Walking across the street to Strawberry Fields in Central Park afterwards is the best way for a visitor to appreciate the enormous loss the world suffered the day John died. A 2.5-acre section of Central Park, dedicated to John’s memory, is named after “Strawberry Fields Forever,” one of John’s greatest songs. The small stretch of land was renovated and landscaped after Ono donated $1 million for the project. Poignantly, the area was the site of John and Yoko’s last walk in Central Park.
Setting aside the emotional tug of the place, I have always suspected that Ono’s understandable ulterior motive for creating Strawberry Fields was to keep fanatical fans away from her front door (she continued to live in the Dakota until last year).
I’ll admit that I, like many other Beatles enthusiasts, was initially wary of Ono. She was widely blamed for having caused the breakup of the Beatles, and when I saw her perform with John in Ann Arbor in 1971, I thought her singing would more properly be described as shrieking.
But in the years since, I’ve become fond of Ono’s quirky art and grandiose pronouncements. It is impossible not to admire the magnitude of her lifelong love for John. I used to see her occasionally walking near the Dakota, understandably never alone. By any measure, Ono is the ultimate West Sider. Given what she suffered in this neighborhood, no one would have faulted her for moving to the other end of the world. Instead, she lived here for 50 years, only leaving in poor health last year at the age of 90 to live upstate.
In addition to being a sentimental journey — particularly for us Boomers who bought the “White Album” in vinyl — Strawberry Fields is a buzzing mini-hive of commerce. The popular tourist destination is ringed by pricey pedicab carriages that rent by the minute and hot dog vendors who charge $5 for a soda. Like so much of New York City, an important goal of the permanent industry at Strawberry Field is to fleece — er, entertain the tourists.
There should be a sign at the entrance of Strawberry Fields. “Abandon all hope of bargains, ye who enter here.” The hot dog stand at the gate helpfully takes all major credit cards. A hot-dog-and-soda snack for your family of four can run upwards of $50. Not highway robbery, but a plump price, nonetheless.
Pedicab drivers also take a handsome haul. Ali, originally from Tajikistan, told me he has been driving for 13 years. Riding in his carriage will set you back $5.99 a minute. Despite the price, Ali was dropping off a smiling couple from Phoenix when we spotted him on Super Bowl Sunday, and no one was complaining or counting pennies. A born showman, Ali was bursting with pride about his role in the tourist trade: “I love my job! I meet a lot of new people. And I own my own business, which is cool!”
Taking the winding path to the center of Strawberry Fields, tourists are further teased with various Lennon tchotchkes and memorabilia along the way. There are framed Lennon photos for sale, original paintings of John and Yoko, and of course Lennon pins by the dozens, at $4 a pop, 3 for $10.
The beating heart of Strawberry Fields is the iconic circular IMAGINE mosaic at its center, which celebrates John’s most famous solo song. On busy days, visitors patiently queue up for a chance to pose for a photo there. The ever-present buskers at Strawberry Fields, who sing the best-loved tunes of both the Beatles and John Lennon, perform for cash from grateful crowds. Ranging from atonal to genuinely gifted, they evoke the youth and music that Lennon and the Beatles exemplified.
That’s where David Muniz comes in. Besides being a musician himself, he is the keeper of the invaluable schedule list for the buskers. This time of year, the busking day runs from 9 a.m. to sundown.
Rather than being an embodiment of John and Yoko’s pacifistic vision, though, Strawberry Fields has a dark past with a history of discord and fighting. When Muniz arrived to busk in 2013, he found a combative scene. “It was crazy,” he recalled in an interview with the Rag. “Bullies played all of the time. They didn’t let anyone else play.” Muniz said that when he complained, “they told me to screw myself.” Instead, he says with pride, “I kicked them out. I got rid of the bullies, and all the musicians came.”
Although there are no auditions for buskers (“I’m not a judge,” said Muniz, though you have to go through him to get on the roster), the quality of the performances is usually impressive. How much money each of them makes from busking, though, is a closely held secret for competitive reasons. Muniz divulged, “Money is by the season. It’s cold now, so it’s the worst time of the year.” A busker might make $30 or $40 an hour in the cold weather. Summertime is the best, Muniz said. “I’ve gotten $100 bills.”
More important than a tip, though, is a word or a gesture from Ono, the governing spirit of Strawberry Fields. Each busker can remember the number of times they’ve been in her presence. In recent years, she has come, sometimes incognito, in her wheelchair to survey the site. To a person, the buskers, at times a tough crowd, describe these encounters in almost religious or mystical terms.
“One misty, rainy sort of day, I was setting up my artwork at Strawberry Fields,” recalls musician and artist Paulina Butterfly (her nom de busk). “There were very few people there. I turned around and I saw that Yoko was looking at my board of John Lennon pictures. I didn’t say anything because I was tongue-tied. Then she said that they were beautiful. That’s when I knew that I had her blessing.”
Paulina was the first female busking regular at Strawberry Fields. Born in San Francisco and educated at the University of California, Berkeley and New York’s Fashion Institute of Technology, Paulina honed her musical skills by performing karaoke. Nervous, she prepared for eight months before her debut performance at Strawberry Fields more than six years ago.
As a female busker there, it was tough sledding. She ran right into misogyny, she said: “Some other buskers used cavemen tactics. The boy’s club can be wary of women.”
Still, said Paulina, who is an administrative assistant during the day and busks with her guitar after work, “I never want to stop. There’s nothing better than this. I love the music and the immediate reaction.”
Not everyone at Strawberry Fields has journeyed a long way to get there. Dave, 73, a retired Upper West Sider who also lives six months a year in Madison, Wisconsin, walks daily in the park and often drops by there to enjoy the music and watch the excited tourists dance and sing. “It’s a joyous place,” said Dave, who shyly declined to give his last name. “The homeless people can be a little raucous, but they’re enjoying themselves too.” On Sunday, as the crowds thinned out to watch the Super Bowl, Dave was watching The Meetles, a four-person busking band that appears every Sunday.
I suspect that many people on the UWS avoid the area, thinking of it as a “tourists only” venue. But you don’t need to take a pedicab to get there. Like Dave, I plan to grab a few bucks for the buskers occasionally now and walk over. Imagine!
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Heartwarming and nostalgic article! As an Upper West Sider, I walk through SF whenever I can, it is always a joy. Glad to learn that the buskers are scheduled, I always wondered about that. Thanks!
You can start by calling 311 and Gale Brewer’s office, who is your city council person. I do feel for you. Sound does travel. Do you remember the singer by the lake by 74th St, the “boy on the hill,” he also causes great distress for the people who lived by.
We were on 72ns street & Amsterdam, having a dog at Papaya. Sirens were heard as the news came to us, slowly. Shooting at the Dakota. Lennon was hit. By the time we made it to CPW there were hundreds of people there already, soon to become thousands. Lennon was dead. Give peace a chance was sung by all for hours. Sad. So sad. The end of an era. Welcome to the real world. The dream was over.
What a chilling recollection of that horrible day. My sister in law lives one street away from the Dakota, although she didn’t live there at the time of Lennon’s death. But, I have gone thru the subway station on 72nd and CPW many times before my husband informed me that the building across was the Dakota. When we walked past, at the spot where he was shot, I felt a sad, but eerie feeling. I do remember that day when I saw the news. I was young, 11 years old. My parents were in shock.
I wish I could say that I felt kindly about the buskers, but I don’t. I live two blocks away and can hear them from morning until night in my apartment with the windows closed. As you said, some of them are okay and some shriek. Moreover , I think some of them actually use amplifiers, and I don’t believe amplified music is allowed in the area of strawberry fields. I wish the powers that be would enforce the regulations because it really is very difficult for those of us who are trying to work at home to listen to this for hours on end.
nothing is sacred any more. it’s just a mess. everything has to be a tourist trap. you should see downtown.
The sign for Strawberry Fields outlines Ono’s intention that it be a QUIET RESPITE for contemplation. It was never meant to be a raucous money-making venue for Lennon wannabes.
My least favorite part of Central Park, Strawberry Fields is, because of all the unpleasant people who congregate there. I avoid it whenever possible, despite being a regular denizen (and sponsor) of the Park.
The Times Square of the neighborhood 💩
Sweet story! Andrea’s reportage is a wonderful addition to the Rag
Strawberry Fields is Forever John and Yokos special place from the first time I saw them, I knew John wil Fovever be my Favorite, John was Special, caring, a genius, Paul, George, Ringo the Best Band in the world, that night was the worst time of my life, Thank You
I used to see John and Yoko there many times when I walked my dog in the area. After John’s passing, I would see Yoko and she would walk down to the lake and sit near the gazebo and just stare out at the lake… We would acknowledge each other.
On my visits, the commercial activities took place away from the actual Imagine memorial — mostly on the sidewalk or in the street outside the park gates. Has something changed?
Before SF, I used to end my weekend walks in Central Park there so I could relax and read a book for an hour. Now I no longer want to be anywhere near it. Aside from the crowds, bad singing and massive amount of nauseating marihuana smoke, there’s no chance for the peace and quiet Yoko intended. I met and spent 30 minutes with John and Yoko when I worked in the Deputy Mayor’s office. We chatted about a number of things and bonded over our hatred of Nixon. It was my best day at work!!
Why didn’t the Grammys honor the 60th Anniversary of the Beatles coming to America and from that moment on, changing music forever?
The Grammys are ridiculous! Don’t even bother to ask that question…..
They taught us ‘three chords is good enuf!’
I agree. They should of done something for the 60th anniversary of The Beatles coming to NY. I remember when they were on Ed Sullivan. I was about 5 years old. I am now 65 years old. Still love John. He was my favorite Beatle. Beatles forever.
The Beatles played on Sullivan the night of a big dance in the community. NO ONE SHOWED. until after. Everyone saw the show and talk centered on the Beatles. I bought their 1st album soon thereafter-AND let my hair grow until the parents and school forced a haircut. Happy Memories🎶🎵😁
I was there for that show at the Ed Sullivan theater, 54 Street. I was 20 years old and I was with my friend, “Sid Bernstein”…. need I say more.
Yeah, why didn’t they? I guess you had to experience Beatlemania to still be a loyal fan. I love the fab four!
Whenever I think of Strawberry Fields, I remember the beautiful spring morning I spent there years ago. It was unusually quiet, no buskers, the mosaic had been cleared of mementos, and a handful of us were sitting on the benches reading a book or the morning paper. After a while an unusually dressed young man came by, gazed down at the mosaic for a minute of silence–then reached into a paper bag, pulled out a pound of raw ground beef, plopped it down smack on the center of Imagine, and strolled out of the park. Ten minutes later a Park employee came by to clean it up.
Now there’s a New York story for you!
Strawberry Fields was.never for busking or husling.
We used to.hang out.and play. NOT hussle money selling.pins and asking for money for music.
The MUSIC WAS FREE.
Ban the hustlers, sellers.and buskers.
I absolutely loved this . Such truth ! Thank you for writing this beauty of a story and I am passing this on to family and friends “I was the Walrus but now I’m John and so dear friends you must please carry on” ❣️
Of course John Lennon wrote amazing songs. But if you look and examine Yoko’s work, it’s hard not to be amazed at the breadth and invention of her output. Even more, she is not satisfied to make work that you stare at – you have to engage with it to understand it’s full meaning. Yes, John wrote about contemporary issues, but I find it hard not to think of Yoko as the greater artist, concerning herself with so many life issues.
Btw, you neglected to mention she designed the artwork in the 72nd Street & 8th Avenue subway station
There are a couple of buskers who play for the Love of Lennon, The Beatles and to share the Love of the music. If they make a few bucks, that’s just a grateful unexpected bonus. But others who busk and venders, etc… This Beatles song says it all… “ The best things in life are free
But you can keep ’em for the birds and bees
Now gimme money (That’s what I want)
That’s what I want (That’s what I want)
That’s what I want, yeah (That’s what I want)
That’s what I want (that’s what I want)“
The dream is over and the magic is gone.
Been robbed and assaulted there. Police did nada.
Tourista trap indeed ~ So very sad.
Of course, that was not a Beatles’ song, but a cover of someone else’s song. If you want an actual Beatles quote about money, how about “Money can’t buy me love.” Frankly, I think John would be insulted that people are “using” his legacy to make money.
Amen
I love the third photograph, the one with Yoko and her son. But it’s the other people in the picture that most interest me. Mayor Ed Koch, and standing next to him, Parks commissioner Henry Stern, and behind Yoko was state senator Manfred (Fred) Orenstein. Another familiar face is at the edge next to Fred but I can’t place him. Perhaps another reader can. Those people are as much a marker of New York City’s history as is the image of Yoko.
Andrew Stein
What a fabulous New York story. Well-written, engaging, and offers a fresh perspective on a well known place.
When I visited it was a rainy day. I had no expectations. There were beautiful flowers arranged around the Imagine mosaic. Someone started playing and singing Beatles songs on his guitar. I unexpectedly burst into tears, and I’m not a crying kind of gal. I had to walk around for a while to compose myself. It was lovely and touching and I don’t remember anyone asking for money. Maybe I was blind to it.
And here I thought the article was going to be about a “literal” sale; i.e., perhaps the money Yoko used to help defray maintenance costs had run out and the Central Park Conservancy was looking for a new “buyer/partner” to fund the Field. And maybe finding a partner who could help re-structure how the area is used. But no, it’s about how the property has become a way for people to make money off John Lennon’s name and legacy. Shame on ALL of them!
On October 10th, 1989, we five gathered with a minister – husband to be and I, two children and a witness. It was a perfect fall day, with azure sky and a light breeze – we stood on a slab of Manhattan schist just south of Imagine and said our vows. How lovely to be able to post this on Valentine’s Day. XXOO
I still remember that
catastrophe day when John met his God. I was across the street walking my dog, he was a Great Dane and looked over to witness…..It was some type of commotion and a few minutes later a green and white NYC police car shows up. No large crowd just several people hanging out in front and I didn’t hear anything such as a gunshot. I just continued walking home back up Central Park West. Strawberry Fields hadn’t been named. It was just a place you took your dog at night to play with the other neighborhood dogs off leash.
Long before David Muniz, the person who kept order at the site was the Gary dos Santos, called the Mayor of Strawberry Fields (and not just by himself, but by Yoko and many others). Gary all but lived at the site for almost two decades, arriving early in the morning to “dress up” the Imagine mosaic with flowers both donated and bought. (On special occasions, he would use other objects: pumpkins for Thanksgiving, etc.)
Gary was well-known and well-loved (though, like anyone, he had his detractors), and he “ruled” with a velvet-gloved iron fist, first and foremost making sure people could actually see the mosaic (during his “reign,” you were not allowed to sit on it, even for a quick photo), coordinating the musicians (who were not “busking” in the formal sense, but tips were always appreciated), and generally keeping order. Yoko knew him well and appreciated what he did, as did most of the members of the Central Park Conservancy at the time.
Gary became “famous” in this role (the NYT carried his obit), and regular visitors included people like Roberta Flack (who lived at the Dakota), Jose Feliciano, and other well-known musicians who came to visit him and play some music.
Gary obviously had no control over licensed vendors, or the pedicabs, but within the Field, and particularly around the mosaic, he was the “capo di tutti capi,” and everyone knew it. And he had his own “entourage” of post-hippie types, including his wonderful wife Lisa, and several others (including myself) who were there often. When he was there, order prevailed and there were very few instances of tension, since everyone knew how much Gary loved John Lennon, the Beatles, Strawberry Fields and his unique “place” within all that. So if Gary himself got a little “assertive” once in a while after one beer too many, people gave him his space, and Lisa and others were able to keep him in check. Basically, everything worked really well for almost two decades.
When Gary died in 2013 (complications of leukemia), the situation at the site deteriorated over time, until it has now become little more (to far too many) than a way to make money off John’s legacy. I doubt that John, Yoko or Gary would approve.
What a wonderfully written story about a colorful place. John and Yoko seemed good at creating controversy and it continues to this day. Whatever anyone’s opinion, Strawberry Fields is John Lennon’s memorial . How can there not be music there? How can there not be objects to remember him by? The critique on the commercialism of this place is like asking New York to be a shrine to utopian ideals. Give me a break. To think that Lennon would prefer SFields to be as silent as a funeral parlor is a joke. It’s a three-ring circus and he loves it. Musicians spend a lot of time practicing their craft and if they make a few bucks performing in public, what’s the big deal?
I hang out at Strawberry Fields all of the time and I don’t feel like the negative aspects of this article really speak to my experience there. The buskers are all fantastic and often team up for duets. Absolutely no one is pushing a hard sale. There’s always been a couple of vendors, no big deal, and after awhile you don’t even notice them or the pedicab drivers. I’ve made friends with lots of regulars; old ladies and their nurses, pet owners, park people, eccentric neighborhood people, normal neighborhood people, it’s a real melting pot. Dave does a great job of keeping it going and Paulina puts in some serious hours. I’ve watched her improve so much over the past 4 years. No one is making a fortune out there, it’s a labor of love. And it’s the closest thing I’ve found to being a part of a community in NYC. The place was the only consistent live entertainment in NYC during Covid. It totally saved my life. You want to say it’s horrible and call it the Times Square of Central Park? Fine, stay away, more for me.
Spirit of Lennon is there… thank you!
So what do you mean by ‘it’s for sale’? New York City does cost money just to go there. But isn’t Strawberry Fields a public place? But I have to bring money to pay whomever? No thanks.
My first apartment in nyc was right in the area on west 71st. I spent many a late night walks totally alone at the imagine circle – and was always joined by some friendly passerby before the time was up. Lovely spot for people watching (and bench dedicated reading!) by day and thoughtful solitude by night.
“Although there are no auditions for buskers (“I’m not a judge,” said Muniz, though you have to go through him to get on the roster), the quality of the performances is usually impressive”
And that’s the problem. There are no auditions and these buskers are generally terrible. It’s the worst and the woman described in the article is also not great. It’s just so bizarre as a nearby resident. Thank you for confirming my suspicion.
From what I’ve seen, these buskers are self-taught and as a result can be judged by Juilliard standards. Everyone has to start somewhere.
can’t be judged by Juilliard standards.
Subway buskers have to audition. That is the standard all buskers need to meet. Even more so at this location of all places IMHO
There are buskers all over the park and there is no audition process which would entail more taxpayer dollars. Most performers I know do music for the love of it and in training mode. Improvement over time is the goal of many of them.