http://ny.curbed.com/archives/2013/08/26/remembering_the_murals_and_graffiti_of_1990s_manhattan.php
Remembering The Murals And Graffiti Of 1990s Manhattan
[All photos © G. Alessandrini via his blog, New York in the 1990's.]
Though he's now a director of video production at Louis Vuitton in his native France, Gregoire Alessandrini spent seven memorable years as a student in New York. From 1991 to 1998, he roamed the streets of Lower Manhattan with his film camera, capturing many neighborhoods before the full brunt of gentrification hit. Seedy, XXX-rated Times Square? Check. The Meatpacking District, before it got gussied up with fancy retail and the High Line? Check? Long-gone billboards and signage? Check. Now his lens has turned to the murals and graffiti that were once ubiquitous in that part of town, before major city-wide clean-up efforts wiped many walls and building surfaces clean. Do you remember these?
Though he's now a director of video production at Louis Vuitton in his native France, Gregoire Alessandrini spent seven memorable years as a student in New York. From 1991 to 1998, he roamed the streets of Lower Manhattan with his film camera, capturing many neighborhoods before the full brunt of gentrification hit. Seedy, XXX-rated Times Square? Check. The Meatpacking District, before it got gussied up with fancy retail and the High Line? Check? Long-gone billboards and signage? Check. Now his lens has turned to the murals and graffiti that were once ubiquitous in that part of town, before major city-wide clean-up efforts wiped many walls and building surfaces clean. Do you remember these?
For more photos, check out Alessandrini's complete gallery.
· New York in the 1990's Photo Archive [official]
· 8 Long-Gone Signs (And Sights) Of 1990s Manhattan [Curbed]
· Revisit The Rundown, Pre-High Line MePa Of The 90s [Curbed]
· A Seedier Times Square, Captured As 90s Demolition Loomed [Curbed]
· New York in the 1990's Photo Archive [official]
· 8 Long-Gone Signs (And Sights) Of 1990s Manhattan [Curbed]
· Revisit The Rundown, Pre-High Line MePa Of The 90s [Curbed]
· A Seedier Times Square, Captured As 90s Demolition Loomed [Curbed]
http://untappedcities.com/2013/08/12/vintage-photos-nyc-meatpacking-district-1990s/
Vintage Photos: NYC’s Meatpacking District in the 1990s
A walk through NYC’s Meatpacking District today gives only the hint of the gritty, industrial place it once was. Like any successful repurposing of space, local architectural elements were retained but “less-desirable” elements that prevented investment were removed. We previously featured photographer Gregoire Alessandrini in the Vintage Photo column for his images of Times Square and the iconic diners of NYC in the 1990s. Today, we’re showcasing his photographs of the Meatpacking in the 1990s.
Atlas Meats was located across from what is now The Standard Hotel. It was demolished in 2011.
In the mid-nineties, this area was dark and desolate with the semi-abandoned warehouses of meat purveyors. In the early morning, the butchers going to work were crossing night creatures finishing their shifts. There were a few clubs, hidden on the meat market’s dark corners. Jackie 60 and of course the infamous Vault and Manhole in the Triangle Building. After going to the clubs like Nell’s on 14th street, Florent on Gansevoort was a real treat. A fun coffee shop with crazy drag waitresses and other strangers of the night. And also great burgers and breakfast for hungry nightclubbers crashing in the morning light.This building is now the restaurant SEA with outdoor seating, located across from the Standard Biergarten. The beams were retained but painted in a more innocuous gray:
The Hellfire Club was a BDSM sex club located in the basement of the building on the triangular plot at Ninth Avenue, Hudson Street and West 14th Street which houses Dos Caminos and 675 Bar:
Hogs & Heifers still operates today at 859 Washington Street:
Walmir Meats at 839 Washington Street, next to SEA and across from The Standard, is finally being converted into this twisty office and retail building:
See more from our Vintage Photography column. See more from Gregoire Alessandrini.
NYC Real Estate News
Vintage Photos: NYC Diners in the 1990s (Empire, Moondance, Cheyenne, Lost Diners)
Get a glimpse of what iconic NYC vintage diners looked like in the 1990s from photographer Grégoire Alessandrini and the quest to save the diners.… Read More
via http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/UntappedNewYork/~3/ircYqB1gthw/
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FROM UNTAPPED CITIES (NEW YORK) 30/07/2013
Vintage Photos: NYC Diners in the 1990s (Empire, Moondance, Cheyenne, Lost Diners)
The Empire Diner in the 1990s, all photos in this article by Grégoire Alessandrini
New York City’s vintage diners were still active and running in the 1990s but despite their iconic history, they soon faced an uncertain future. Efforts to save the diners helped preserve some but very few remain in their original state. Get a glimpse of what these diners looked like in the 1990s (when they were still operating at their original location) in these photos by Grégoire Alessandrini. We previously featured Alessandrini’s images of gritty Times Square in the 1990s in our vintage photo column.The Empire Diner in Chelsea dates back to 1946 and was built by Fodero Dining Car Company. After being abandoned for some time, it was revived in 1976 and remained in operation then on. With its iconic Art Moderne exterior, the diner appeared in many films and was a popular eatery for many celebrities but the Empire diner eventually closed its doors in 2010. The restaurant re-opened as The Highliner to rather negative reviews, and closed by late 2012.
During the debate and lawsuit over the Empire Diner after its closure in 2010, this Empire State replica went missing from the diner
Built by the Kullman Building Corporation in the 1940s, the tiny Art Deco Lost Diner was tucked away at 357 West Street. The Lost Diner was known by many names during its run, such as the Lunchbox Diner, but it closed once and for all in 2006 and has been abandoned ever since. What’s left now is the decaying chrome structure, which has deteriorated significantly between our visit in 2011 and earlier this year.The Cheyenne Diner, at 411 Ninth Avenue, was built in 1940 by the Paramount dining car company. This Art Moderne diner was known as the Market Diner till 1986 and then as Cheyenne Diner until it closed in 2008. Rather then facing demolishment, the diner was relocated to Alabama with hopes that it would be restored and reopened, but the structure remains in storage.
The Moondance Diner first opened in 1933 and became an iconic fixture with its revolving crescent moon. The SoHo diner made many appearances in films and TV shows, such as Friends, but after decades of operation, it was set to be closed and demolished in 2007. With the help of preservationist Michael Perlman, who founded the Committee To Save The Moondance Diner, the diner found a new home in Wyoming. The Moondance made it to its new home (albeit in a less than perfect condition) and was reopened but the future of this diner is still unclear.
Here are a few more snapshots of vintage diners from Grégoire Alessandrini‘s website, click on for more:
See more from our Vintage Photography column and get in touch with the author.
Friday, July 5, 2013
An East Village snow day
Grégoire Alessandrini let us know that he just added more images to his blog — New York in the 1990's Photo Archives. We featured some of his work back in May.
Some background: As a student here in the early-to-mid 1990s, he always carried a camera around with him ... and he has been uploading the photos from that time to his blog. He lives in Paris these days.
Anyway, given the temps outside today ... East Village blizzard pics from 1995 seemed fitting...
You may now spend your holiday weekend rooting through his photo archives here.
http://vassifer.blogs.com/alexinnyc/2013/07/gregoires-last-batch.html
July 03, 2013
Gregoire's Last Batch
I've posted about Gregoire Alessandrini's excellent New York City 1990s photoblog here several times. It really is a remarkable trove of images of a city that was just on the very cusp of transforming. Gregoire managed to capture photograph after photograph of the final stages before the widespread gentrification really took hold. In his pictures, NYC still has an endearingly rough 'n' tumble quality -- a little bruised, a little rusty, a little unkept -- that would simply never be tolerated in today's incarnation.
By this point, Gregoire is finishing up, and keeps threatening "Final Update" with each post. I did that for a while too, but then I'd always stumble upon another boxload of my own crappy pics that begged to be posted (in my opinion, of course). Here's hoping Mr. Alessandrini makes a few similar discoveries.
In any case, here's just a quick shot from his latest batch that struck me. Maybe I blocked it from my memory, but I feel certain that I would have recalled a giant Levi's billboard with the Sex Pistols on it. Honestly, I have zero recollection about ever seeing this. Then again, I was fairly bummed out for quite a bit of the 90s, so perhaps I was just looking down and missed it.
In any case, it's far too late to get all outraged about this arguable blight against the Sex Pistols' legacy and integrity (itself also arguable -- espeically in the wake of their reunion tours). Moreover, life is far too short, it'd make me a big cliche and a bit of a hypocrite. I love the Sex Pistols and am currently wearing a pair of Levi's, so obviously I should shut the hell up.
Go check out New York City 1990s.
By this point, Gregoire is finishing up, and keeps threatening "Final Update" with each post. I did that for a while too, but then I'd always stumble upon another boxload of my own crappy pics that begged to be posted (in my opinion, of course). Here's hoping Mr. Alessandrini makes a few similar discoveries.
In any case, here's just a quick shot from his latest batch that struck me. Maybe I blocked it from my memory, but I feel certain that I would have recalled a giant Levi's billboard with the Sex Pistols on it. Honestly, I have zero recollection about ever seeing this. Then again, I was fairly bummed out for quite a bit of the 90s, so perhaps I was just looking down and missed it.
In any case, it's far too late to get all outraged about this arguable blight against the Sex Pistols' legacy and integrity (itself also arguable -- espeically in the wake of their reunion tours). Moreover, life is far too short, it'd make me a big cliche and a bit of a hypocrite. I love the Sex Pistols and am currently wearing a pair of Levi's, so obviously I should shut the hell up.
Go check out New York City 1990s.
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http://missrosen.wordpress.com/2013/06/27/gregoire-alessandrini-nyc-1990s/
Grégoire Alessandrini :: NYC 1990s
June 27, 2013
New York City in the 90s was a world unto itself. It kicked off the new decade by reaching its highest murder rate to date, while the twin crises of crack and AIDS had plunged the city into a desperate state. Yet, despite the darkness that loomed right before the dawn, New York was also a place of unbridled creativity that expressed itself all day and all night long. Graff had left the trains and was taking to the street. Nickel bags could be had in candy shops. Trains were $1, $1.15, $1.25. David Dinkins was Mayor, and Law & Order had just begun to air on TV.
New York in the 90s was a turning point in our changing world, a time and a place where the last hurrahs of the 70s and 80s gave way to the new, millennial Quality of Life. As Guiliani took power, things began to change, slowly but surely the heart of the City was bled away. But, before it was all but finally erased, Grégoire Alessandrini was on the scene with his camera, snapping away. I had the great pleasure of discovering his blog a couple of weeks back, and dropping him a line to reminisce in words and photographs. I am pleased to share Alessandrini’s work here, along with a link at the end for your viewing pleasure. It’s a treasure chest of memories…
Miss Rosen Please talk about New York City in the 90s. What do you see as the ethos of the city at this time, perhaps as it was when you began this series in 1991, and how it transformed over the course of the decade. What marks this period as distinct in the City’s history for you, and what lessons did you learn, observing life through the camera lens?
Grégoire Alessandrini: I arrived in New York in the early 90s to become a film student. What I immediately loved in the city was this feeling of being in an American movie or a movie set. The city was just liked I had imagined it and somehow still very much like I had seen it in films. I’m thinking of Taxi driver, Marathon Man, Shaft, or even old Hollywood classics where you could see NY in the 40s or 50s.
You could tell that the city had probably changed a lot since the 60s and 70s but there was this kind of classic American dimension. I loved the old signs, the restaurants that looked like they didn’t change for decades, old dive bars, the old Mom & Pop stores on the Lower East Side and in Harlem, as well as neighborhoods with their own great identities like Times Square, the Meat Packing District, or the East Village—which was were you wanted to be at the time.
You also felt that the arty NY of the 60s and 70s was not that far back, not completely dead yet… It felt like the city I was discovering was still very much similar to the way it was when Warhol, Keith Haring, or Basquiat were walking in the Soho streets.
Soho was already cleaned up, trendy and expensive but you just had to walk a few blocks over and you were in Alphabet City or in the Lower East Side where most uptown residents were scared to go. Iggy Pop was still living in Alphabet City and many artists were still renting storefronts in the Lower East Side to use as studios and homes.
To me this is very typical of 90s New York. The “safe” neighborhoods could be next to the “bad” ones and it seemed perfectly normal. New Yorkers knew perfectly the invisible frontiers between these different worlds, they knew where they could go and when.
It is definitely true that the city was somehow decrepit, a bit dark and dangerous, but this was fascinating and you felt so much part of the city itself that danger was not really an issue. You would hear horrible stories all of the time but yet, you felt like exploring even more. Mayor Dinkins was in office at the time and the arrival of Giuliani was definitely a sign that change was coming…
Your work feels primarily like a series of cityscapes, of the city streets and buildings as the subject of your work, of New York as a kind of persona whose personality is known by those who pound her pavement and breathe her filthy air. Even your photographs of people feel very integrated into their context, as part of a greater energy that is New York itself.
What did you come to discover about the reality of our shared daily life, and how New York imparts this feeling in us? How do you think that the architecture and the city planning make transform our experience in public space.
What was most exciting in the 1990s was this feeling of adventure you had when hanging out in the city, day or night. When I starting taking photos, it was the graphic quality of the city that interested me. Walking in the Meat Packing District or Alphabet City was a great experience. And it felt the same in most neighborhoods.
Yes, it was dirty, smelly and scary at times but it was part of the city’s soul and you never thought that it needed to be cleaned up. It was the ideal setting for whatever you wanted your life or your New York experience to be. The state and look of the city also gave you an incredible feeling of freedom. You really felt that the city was yours and that you just needed to be here to be part of it and a real New Yorker.
At first, I was particularly interested in locations and what made them special more than people and you are right, at the beginning people were just part of the places I was photographing. Maybe because of how fascinating New York’s neighborhoods were to me and because of the incredible cinematic quality of some of these areas. Every area had its own mood, personality, its own vibe, and very specific residents.
New Yorkers are great in their eccentricity, originality, and energy… so of course I had to document this as well. My images of the Wigstock events in Tompkins Park show how crazy people could be… But being a movie freak and having studied film, I guess that my photos were primarily an attempt to capture these moods, these ambiances more than a sociological or classic instant photography approach.
What are the most notable changes to public life that you witnessed over the decade ? I realize this is a vast, sweeping question, given how much change came down under the Giulian regime. But if there was something that you noticed as that which was consistent, that which began to disappear, so to speak, as the City cleaned up and improved its “Quality of Life”, what might be those things that were lost in the name of progress ?
One of the landmarks of Giuliani’s era for me was the transformation of 42nd Street and the Times Square area. The zoning laws that made it impossible for sex related businesses to remain in the area.
It was actually very amusing to see porn shops presenting old Disney VHS tapes in their front window in order to stay in business…But the message was clear: “The party is over and all the sleaze has to go to make room for a family friendly environment.”
Giuliani’s time was also the time were drugs and drug dealers were heavily targeted. I really believe that it is also at the origins of the city’s big change. Crack was a very important factor of the city’s safety problems and bad reputation. It was really everywhere… in any neighborhood, in the streets, even sold in some stores, at any moment of day or night.
After the dealers of 7th Street between B and C or on 10th Street were chased out, Tompkins Park started to change (since it had also been raided by police during the 1980s to kick out the homeless camp that was installed in it), as well as Avenue A and then the whole Lower East Side…
The East Village population also started changing in the 90s… Hipsters were already moving in and I remember how in the late 90s. The area was becoming the new hangout of people obviously coming from uptown or the other boroughs to party and drink on Saturday night. Rents were already going up and it was becoming difficult to afford living in the neighborhood.
All the pioneers who had opened stores and friends who were living in Alphabet City, on Ludlow, or around Delancey had already started leaving the area in the late 90s. The transformation had already started and a new population was starting to move in.
What seems very sad to me with the recent evolution and transformation of the city is the fact that it is obviously irreversible. Everyone loves NY because it is constantly evolving. Every time you come back, there’s something new. A record shop can become a bagel place, an old Lower East Side Mom & Pop store, an art gallery, etc.
But what can an HSBC bank or a 7-Eleven become? And with the arrival of the real estate giants, all this big groups and corporations, the city seems to start looking the same everywhere. What will make the Lower East Side different from Midtown when Bowery will only be made of 50-stories glass buildings? New York is not just getting cleaned up… It is literally being rebuilt (or destroyed?). And it is known that you definitely can’t artificially create a city’s soul.
My heart was broken when the Palladium was destroyed to make room for NYU dorms with a very dull architecture. Nowadays, this kind of destruction seems to be a daily occurrence in Bloomberg’s Manhattan…
All photographs by
Grégoire Alessandrini
Grégoire Alessandrini
Rhombus
design typography graphics
Gregoire Alessandrini
French fashion exec Gregoire Alessandrini has become a de facto chronicler of 1990s New York, when he was a film student in New York City and constantly toted around his camera. Having captured a seedier Times Square before the Giuliani-era cleanup in some evocative shots on his blog, New York in the 1990′s Photo Archives, Alessandrini also turned his lens on the Meatpacking District. Before the High Line, before Pastis and the Gansevoort hotel, before the designer boutiques and the high-end art galleries, there were simply… butchers and meat distributors. And lots of litter. And graffiti that blanketed warehouses, dotted with the occasional lowbrow nightclub.From:
http://vassifer.blogs.com/alexinnyc/2012/11/back-to-the-90s.html
Back to the `90s
One of the greatest aspects about maintaining this weblog for the last seven years has been connecting with people (readers, fellow bloggers, artists, writers, filmmakers, musicians, photographers, etc.) who share the same affinity I feel for New York City and what I would consider its vanishing (or, at the very least, transforming) character. Along the way, I've amassed a steady stable of like-minded archivists and nostalgic folks with keen memories, and it's really been re-affirming. Every time I'm convinced I'm simply typing away into an empty void, someone comes along to share their own pictures or recollections. At the risk of getting all wetly weepy, it's really been encouraging.
With my fellow bloggers -- folks like EV Grieve, Jeremiah Moss, Bowery Boogie, Brian K, Yukie from The SoHo Memory Project and beyond -- whenever one of us stumbles upon a new trove of vintage NYC pics or a new blog rife with heretofore unseen images of lost elements from the city, we shout about it from the highest rooftop. Today is one of those times.
A gent named Gregoire Alessandrini reached out to me yesterday, inspired by my recent post about The Gas Station. Gregoire maintains an amazing, photo-driven blog called NEW YORK CITY 1990's, and when I perused through it this morning, my jaw dropped open. It's spectacular.
I devote an inordinate amount of time here waxing rhapsodic about New York in the 1980s, a decade I spent being a student. But the 1990s were just as dynamic. Most of my own photographs date back to this period. But Gregoire's pictures really, really capture it. As I've said in various posts along the way, the 90's don't feel that long ago, but to look at these photographs, you'd barely recognize it as the same city today.
Within Gregoire's archives, you'll find images of long-vanished storefronts, bars, landmarks, street art and other elements of the time period -- from Billy's Topless on 6th Avenue to the Savoy in Hell's Kitchen to The Vault in the Meatpacking District and all points in between --- that just do not exist anymore.
I'm taking the liberty of repurposing one of Gregoire's shots above. I don't recall the exact address, but the building pictured looming in the background is one I actually worked in for a spell in the mid-90's. After tiring of having an army of sketchy freelancers troop in and out of his apartment on a daily basis, my old editor for The New York Review of Records (a sadly long-vanished music rag I fervently scribbled for in the 90s) began a frenetic relocation dance around Manhattan. Circa 1993 or so, this was its temporary base of operations. As you can see in the photograph, the eastern-facing facade of the building was festooned with a massive, imaginative mural suggesting that a higher portion of the building had become detached and was dangling from a thread. I always loved that. I'm not even sure I could identify this building today, but suffice to say, the mural in question was painted over eons ago. When I saw Gregoire's photograph, I was blown out of my chair. You simply have no idea how long I have searched for an image that captured it.
Once again, go check out NEW YORK CITY 1990's now! Tell'em I sent'cha.
Lurking for Lurie
ADDENDUM: Well, here’s something that doesn’t happen every day. Yesterday, I posted the entry below about John Lurie that was admittedly pieced together with a fairly relaxed regard for substantial fact-finding. Basically, I forwarded on a bit of gossip and did only a cursory amount of actual research before posting my thoughts. That’s probably fine when you’re discussing something trivial, but in this instance, I was inadvertently partaking in a bit of what would probably best be described as character-assassination. John Lurie himself reached out to me to, quite rightly, take me to task for some of the information I’d passed on. I sincerely apologize to Mr. Lurie for this, and will learn from this experience moving forward. I have nothing but the greatest respect for that man, and had no business projecting the way I did. I do hope he understands, and I feel genuinely awful about this incident. I’ve also excised portions from my original post to make amends.Thanks for reading, Alex
In the past couple of months, I've had this weird, recurring thing with John Lurie. I think it started back in September, when I tracked down the Criterion Collection edition of "Stranger Than Paradise," the viewing of which rekindled my curiosity about the man's legacy in the pantheon of New York City musicians. I knew he'd formed the so-called "fake jazz" ensemble Lounge Lizards during the nuclear winter of No Wave in the late `70s/early 80's (featuring Anton Fier of the Feelies on drums, Arto Lindsay of DNA on guitar, his brother Evan on keyboards and a gent named Steve Piccolo on bass), but what I credibly know about jazz -- fake or otherwise -- isn't much. I did know that Lurie seemed like an incredibly cool cat, and I enjoyed the snippets of music I'd heard by him in various films. I'd always loved the lulling "Bob the Bob," although that particular piece, as it turned out, was recorded by a completely different line-up from the afore-cited incarnation of the band.
In any case, after that, I started searching again with half-an-eye for that debut Lounge Lizards disc. Again, while I'm normally not a big saxophone fan (maybe I'm just haunted by FEAR's scathing indictment of the instrument in its association with NYC), I felt it was music I should know about, given my fascination with all the fixtures around it.
In November, meanwhile, you may remember I sang the praises of the new photo blog I'd encountered called New York City 1990's: Photo Archives by Gregoire Allessandrini. If you've not checked it out, you really need to do so at once, as it's just an amazing trove of images from the era in question. But, while pouring over Gregoire's shots, I came across this excellent shot of posted flyers and bills on a wall in Hell's Kitchen, and sure enough -- there was Lurie's name once again. That's the shot in question at the top of this post, by the way. I hope Gregoire doesn't mind me using it.
See end of article on orinal site...
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From:
http://vassifer.blogs.com/alexinnyc/2013/01/wide-open-air-on-union-square.html
January 20, 2013
http://vassifer.blogs.com/alexinnyc/2013/01/wide-open-air-on-union-square.html
January 20, 2013
Wide Open Air on Union Square
When they razed the block that stood between East 14th and East 13th street between Broadway and 4th Avenue in the mid-90's, I was living on East 12th between University Place and Broadway. Strangely, I can only barely remember what the architecture looked like before that block came down. When it was all demolished, there was a giant swathe of open space on the southern tip of Union Square. I remember thinking how nice it would be if they just put down a simple square of grass, instead of the mammoth building they were planning to erect. I felt a similar sentiment last year, when they stealthily tore down the weathered academic structure on Astor Place that's now the looming, black Death Star building. I wasn't alone. For a couple of months, there was a tenuous stencil and sticker campaign that read: "Imagine a park here." Obviously, that fanciful notion never came to pass.
Just like over on Astor Place, progress on the Union Square site progressed with great immediacy. In seemingly no time at all, there was a brand new movie theater (or arena, as it was billed) and -- more importantly for me -- a brand, spankin' new Virgin Megastore. Tireless champion though I am of independent, mom'n'pop music shops, I did not lament Virgin's arrival. Though comparatively late in the day, the writing was not yet on the wall about the impending demise of the music industry as we know it. In any event, any physical, brick and mortar outlet that sells music is a good thing, as far as I was (and remain) concerned. I snapped the picture up top of it shortly after it opened.
About seventeen or so years later, the theater's still there, but the Virgin Megastore is now long gone (I penned a weepy paean to its demise here). Now there's a -- WAIT FOR IT -- bank branch where Virgin was initially perched.
In any case, why am I blathering about all this now? Well, if you're a regular reader here, you've heard me sing the praises of Gregoire Alessandrini's great photo blog, New York City 1990's before. Well, while re-perusing his site, I found these two amazing photos of the block in question after the initial structures had been razed. I thought I'd replicate them here for the purposes of illustrating this post (and I hope he doesn't mind, as usual).
This top one is basically the view looking south from Union Square Park. That corner is where the entrance to the Virgin Megastore was. Hard to picture now, I know.
This shot is the block as viewed from 4th Avenue looking West. Now, this space is marked by the lobby of an expensive condominium and a frankly very pricey wine emporium.
Cheers to Gregoire as always. Be sure to check out his site at once!!