West Side Canvas: Song of the Upper West Side

Painting and Essay by Robert Beck

A “typical” Upper West Sider is a composite mush of two hundred thousand people that can be tapped to represent whomever and whatever one wishes to express.

Variety is what makes this place tick, and it’s everywhere. Need a rags-to-riches narrative? A crankypants neighbor? A heart of gold? A precocious kid? There are as many unique renderings as there are doorbells and destinations. 

So much is happening on the UWS that you have to use filters. When I come to a cross street, a system in the back of my brain checks the color of traffic lights and walk signals against which way and how fast the cars are going, with the proximity and paths of bicycles, strollers, dogs, emergency vehicles, and package carts (God help us if we get drone delivery). If my Intersection Navigation System says it’s clear, I barely break stride.

I have similar neuro-manuevering operations specifically for negotiating subways, supermarkets, and sidewalks. The sidewalk system is heavy on geometry and radar. It employs a Spatial Perception Timing Algorithm (SPTA) that enables people on opposing paths to simultaneously negotiate the single lane between a dining corral, a steam vent, a plundered bicycle remnant chained to a pole, a slow tourist, and a guy sitting on a piece of cardboard.  The sidewalks of the UWS are where Obi-Wan Kenobi learned his craft.  

I have come across some remarkably primitive sights in our sophisticated neighborhood, but for the most part, they are human stories and generous people. A woman in bad leopard walked out of a store on Amsterdam into the busy pedestrian flow, paying no attention to the people she was barging in front of but triggering everybody’s SPTAs. The young man beside me walked ahead and let her know her purse was unzipped. Her arms flew up and she shrieked that she had left her wallet at the counter, then fought her way back against the stream, neither looking at him nor saying thank you. Score that even.

A man in front of me in the coffee shop asked for cream and sugar. The young woman taking his order told him he should consider cutting back on sugar, as he would be much healthier for it. I suppose the savior has to go where the sinners are.

A dog-owner crouched outside an ice cream shop on Columbus and scooped a little vanilla from his cup onto the sidewalk. He scratched his golden behind the ear as Good Boy lapped it up. 

There is no telling where and when heroes will emerge. Timing is everything. I walked past a restaurant with large windows along Columbus, side glancing at the diners within. One frame revealed a dazed and seated young man surrounded by standing adults. He had just thrown up on the table. A massive barf. If I hadn’t been held up at the last intersection, I would have missed it.  

This can all happen on one trip back from the studio. I get to see yet more intrigue out my window at the apartment. A mother on an electric scooter glides along the sidewalk with her two small children following on scooters of their own. A guy trudges past the other way, dragging a large cross on wheels. A father and daughter stop at the corner, staring at her phone, searching for a Letterbox location. They put their hands over their ears as an ambulance goes past.

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See more of Robert Beck’s work and visit his UWS studio at www.robertbeck.net. Let him know if you have a connection to an archetypical UWS place or event that would make a good West Side Canvas subject. Thank you!

Listen to an interview with Robert Beck on Rag Radio — Here.

Note: Before Robert Beck started West Side Canvas, his essays and paintings were featured in Weekend Column. See Robert Beck’s earlier columns here and here.

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