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newyork-yura15cbx · 3 years

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Сэйлорс-Снаг Харбор (Sailors' Snug Harbor)

Сейлорс-Снаг Харбор, известный как Культурный Центр и Ботанический Сад Снаг Харбор (Snug Harbor Cultural Center and Botanical Garden) или просто Снаг Харбор (Snug Harbor) — коллекция архитектурно ценных зданий XIX в. В парке, расположенном неподалеку от Килл-Ван-Кулл (the Kill Van Kull) на северном берегу Стейтен-Айленд в Нью-Йорк Сити.

Когда-то он был домом престарелых для моряков. Сейчас здесь находится городской парк площадью 340 000 м2. Часть зданий и территорий используется художественными организациями под предводительством Культурного Центра и Ботанического Сада Снаг-Харбор. Сейлорс-Снаг Харбор включает 26 зданий в стиле греческого возрождения, а также итальянского и викторианского стилей. Место считается ценным для Стейтн-Аленда и напоминанием о морском прошлом Нью-Йорка XIX в.

История

Снаг Харбор был основан к 1801 г. по завещанию нью-йоркского капитана Роберта Ричарда Ренделла, в честь которого назван близлежащий район Ренделл-Мейнор (Randall Manor). Ренделл оставил свой участок земли на территории между Пятой Авеню и Бродвеем и Восьмой и Десятой Улицами, чтобы построить заведение, где бы заботились о «престарелых, ушедших на пенсию» моряках. Открытие дома для моряков было отложено из-за споров между обездоленными наследниками Ренделла. Когда Сейлорс-Санг Харбор открылся в 1833 г., он стал первым заведением для ушедших на пенсию моряков в истории США. Сначала существовало одно-единственное здание, сейчас оно находится в центре из пяти сооружений в стиле эпохи греческого возрождения, внешне напоминающих храм и возвышающихся над набережной Нью-Брайтон (New Brighton waterfront).

Капитан Томас Мелвилль, ушедший на отдых морской капитан и брат Германа Мелвилля, автора книги Моби-Дик (Moby-Dick), управлял Снаг Харбор в 1867-1884 гг.

В 1890 г. Капитан Густавус Траск, директор Снаг Харбор, построил церковь в стиле эпохи Возрождения, Мемориальную Часовню Ренделла (the Randall Memorial Chapel) и, наконец, музыкальный холл, оба выполнены по проекту Роберта В. Гибсона.

Около 1 000 ушедших на покой моряков жили в Снаг Харбор в период его расцвета в конце XIX в., когда сама организация входила в список самых богатых в Нью-Йорке. По оценкам Вашингтон-Сквер (Washington Square) ежегодные расходы на содержание дома составляли около 100,000 $.

В середине XX века Снаг Харбор начал испытывать серьезные финансовые трудности. В 1952 году массивная структура, Мемориальная Церковь Ренделла (Randall Memorial Church) из белого мрамора, пришла в упадок и была разрушена. С появлением системы Социальной Безопасности в 1930-х гг. были изменены требования для содержания пожилых людей; к середина 1950-х гг. здесь оставалось не более 200 человек. К началу 1960-х гг. приют, был перемещен в Си-Левел (Sea Level) в штате Северная Каролина.

К 1960-м гг. это место площадью в 336,000 м² приглянулось землевладельцам, выступавшим за сохранение имущества. Недавно сформированная Комиссия Достопримечательностей Нью-Йорк Сити (New York City Landmarks Commission) сделала шаг на встречу, пообещав сохранить оставшиеся здания, признав историческую ценность и добавив их в Национальную Регистрационную Книгу Исторических Мест (National Register of Historic Places). В последствие прошло несколько судебных споров, однако, в конце концов, историческая ценность была подтверждена вновь, и Снаг Харбор получил статус Национального Исторического Объекта в 1965 г.

12 сентября 1976 г. Культурный Центр Снаг Харбор был официально открыт для публики. В 2008 г. Культурный Центр Снаг Харбор и Ботанический Сад Стейтен-Айленд (Staten Island Botanical Garden) объединились в Культурный Центр и Ботанический Сад Снаг Харбор.

Архитектура

Пять сообщающихся зданий в стиле эпохи греческого возрождения считаются «самым амбициозным образцом классического возрождения в США» и «самым экстраординарным» комплексом греческого храма в стране. Здание С (Building C) 1833 г. является центром композиции, пять сооружений в стиле греческого возрождения, «формируют симметричную композицию на Террасе Ричмонда (Richmond Terrace), восьми колонный портик в центре и два шести колонных портика в каждом конце».

Административное здание 1833г., выполненное Минардом Лейфевером – «прекрасное» здание в стиле эпохи греческого возрождения с монументальным портиком в ионическом стиле, являющееся самой старой из сохранившихся работ архитектора. Оно было реконструировано впервые в 1884 г., обзаведясь «трехэтажной галереей раскрашенного стекла», и повторно уже в 1990-х гг.

Все пять знаменитых рядов сооружений в стиле эпохи греческого возрождения индивидуально зарегистрированы, так же как и 131-летняя часовня, которая была реконструирована как учебный и концертный зал; дом у входа в Итальянскую Террасу Ричмонда (the Italinate Richmond Terrace gate house, 1873г.) обнесен железным забором XIX в., скрывающим от взора все прилежащие сооружения, а также Здание С и часовню.Сооружения расположены на ландшафтной территории и окружены специально разработанным железным забором XIX в. Неподалеку находится «красивый» цинковый фонтан 1893 г., изображающий бога Нептуна, и не так давно замененный копией. Согласно Нью-Йорк Таймс «Он расположен в центре, на ракушке, поддерживаемый морскими монстрами и с поднятым трезубцем. Струи воды бьют из центра фонтана и из металлических букетов с коралловыми лилиями.

Культурный Центр и Ботанический Сад Снаг Харбор

Культурный Центр Снаг Харбор (Snug Harbor Cultural Center) и Ботанический Сад Стейтен-Айленд (Staten Island Botanical Garden) являются некоммерческой организацией, обслуживающей Сейлорс-Снаг Харбор. Их первоочередная цель «работа, управление и развитие помещений, известных как Сейлорс-Снаг Харбор в качестве культурного и образовательного центра и парка». В 2005 г. он попал в список 406 художественных нью-йоркских и культурных институтов, получивших часть 20-миллионого $ гранта от Корпорации Карнеги при поддержке мэра Нью-Йорка Майкла Блумберга. В 2006 г. доходы и расходы бесприбыльной организации составили около 3,7 миллионов $, а активы на конец года – около 2,6 миллиона $. Он является резиденцией для Ассоциации Детского Театра Стейтен-Айленда (the Staten Island Children's Theater Association, SICTA), которому первоначально покровительствовали такие актеры, как Нолан ДеБауэр. Также здесь располагается Музыкальная Консерватория Стейтен-Айленд (Staten Island Conservatory of Music).

Ботанический Сад Стейтен-Айленд (Staten Island Botanical Garden)

Ботанический Сад Стейтен-Айленд содержит такие пространные сады, как Белый Сад (The White Garden), разбитый по образцу знаменитого сада Вита Саквиль-Уэст (Vita Sackville-West) в Сиссингхерсте; Секретный Сад Конни-Гретц (Connie Gretz’s Secret Garden) с замком, церковью и окруженным стенами потаенным садом; и Китайский Школьный Сад Нью-Йорка (The New York Chinese Scholar's Garden), самый настоящийкитайский сад в стиле знаменитых садов Сужоу (Suzhou).

Ньюхауз Центр Современного Искусства (Newhouse Center for Contemporary Art)

Основанный в 1977 г., Ньюхауз Центр Современного Искусства выставляет работы местных и международных художников. Центр, где также проводятся выставки художников-резидентов, имеет общую выставочную площадь в 1 400 м2.

Морская Коллекция Нобла (The Noble Maritime Collection)

Дворянская Морская Коллекция – музей с особым акцентом на работах художника Джона А. Нобла (1913-1983 гг.). Нью-Йорк Сан (The New York Sun) назвала коллекцию Нобла «драгоценным камнем среди нью-йоркских музеев».

Детский Музей Стейтен-Айленд (The Staten Island Children's Museum)

Детский Музей Стейтен-Айленд располагает сменяющейся коллекцией, где представлены экспонаты, выполненные руками детей.

Музей Стейтен-Айленд (The Staten Island Museum)

Институт Стейтен-Айленд по Искусству и Науке (the Staten Island Institute of Arts - Sciences) планирует открыть художественный музей в современном здании с полным климат контролем в стенах одного из пяти знаменитых сооружений Снаг Харбр. Основанный в 1881 г. как Естественнонаучная Ассоциация Стейтен-Айленда (Natural Science Association of Staten Island), институт временно располагает музеем недалеко от Сент-Джордж (St. George), где проводятся выставки, посвященные естественной истории и искусству и истории Стейтен-Айленд.

Художественная Лаборатория (Art Lab)

Художественная Лаборатория – школа изобразительного и прикладного искусства, основанная в 1975 г. и организующая художественные выставки-инструкции.

Мьюзик-Холл (Music Hall)

Мьюзик-Холл – аудитория на 850 мест. Мьюзик-Холл открылся в июле 1892 г. кантатой «Розовый Майден» ( The Rose Maiden ), куда пришло 600 резидентов, рассаженных на обычных деревянных скамейках, а 300 мест на балконах были заняты опекунами, руководителями и их гостями. http://newyork.kiev.ua/gid-po-gorodu/dostoprimechatel-nosti/seilors-snag-xarbor-sailors-snug-harbor.html А дальше по дороге прикольный Shakers bar в окружении шиномонтажных мастерских со старыми покрышками используемыми для украшения старых заборов, как в россии.

#Sailors' Snug Harbor #Art Lab #Music Hall #The Staten Island Museum #Snug Harbor Cultural Center and Botanical Garden #Shakers bar #бар #коктейли #bar #Staten Island #new york #нью йорк #стайтен айленд

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lifestyleofluxe · 4 years

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#lifestyle #luxury #Building C of Sailors' Snug Harbor. Completed by Minard Lafever in 1833. It is do

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travsd · 2 years

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John Pintard: Forgotten Founding Father

It’s hard to think of anyone so important to American history yet more obscure than John Pintard (1759-1844). I only know about him because he founded New York’s oldest museum and library, the New-York Historical Society, where I worked for many years. Pintard really has nothing to do with show business; I honor him here today as an outgrowth of the fact that my love for vaudeville, silent film,…

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#history #John Pintard #New York #New-York Historical Society #Sailors Snug Harbor #Tammany Hall

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focsle · 2 years

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your room sounds amazing omg. would u be willing to show us more pictures?

Sure sure!

There’s the Shellback Certificate, fashion plate, botanical paper, and sword. Ft. Dresser with assorted model ships & whatnot and my scraggly wardian case.

There’s the 1870s undertaker receipt and morphine prescription.

And there’s the harpoon, octopus, gay 1970s newspaper, karnaca poster, and my unceremoniously thumbtacked book award.

I’ve got an 1860s Harper’s Weekly plate about the various activities old sailors do at Snug Harbor that I wanna put up too but I’ve been too lazy to frame and hang it.

#asks #anonymous

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flashenondeux · 3 years

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Sailor’s Snug Harbor - Staten Island, NY (1986)

#vintage #1980s #old new york #new york #vintage photo #old photo

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willtheweaver · 2 years

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Time to leave her

Heading back to port was usually a time of celebration. But not this time.

The crew of the Grand Shoal knew this day would come. The world had changed so much, and there was no room left for the old fishing schooner and her crew.

Three weeks on the old fishing ground brought only modest catches. The hold was still two thirds empty when the crew finally pointed the bow back to port.

The tide was low, and it would take some time before the waters were deep enough to enter the harbor. So the crew sat idle on the decks, having one last conversation.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do”, old Ned said. “I’m old, worn out, and with no family left. I’ll be no good to nobody on land.”

“You could try going to America”, Tom suggested. “I hear there’s a place south of New York City called Snug Harbor. It’s a retirement home for old sailors.”

“It’s nice that there are some people looking after the old salts, but what about the ships?” Young Tyler asked.

“Soon they will all be gone, left to rot in some backwater channel or another.”

“If only I had enough money”, he said wishfully. “Then maybe I could at least save the Shoal.”

‘Saltpeter’ Sam couldn’t help but laugh.

“Oh my naive young greenhorn”, he said. “You know full well if we all pooled our money, we wouldn’t have enough to make rent in London, Liverpool, or Belfast.”

“Still, he has a point”’ Ned replied. “All this obsession with steam, coal and oil. There aren’t many ‘real’ sailors left. Why abandon the oar and sail when they have served us well since the beginning?”

“Aye”, Tom added.

“People should know ‘bout their roots. We may just be humble fishermen, but we are standing on the shoulders of those who sailed with the Greenland whalers and the Blackball line.”

The tide began to turn and ,right on schedule, captain Wyatt appeared on deck.

“Well boys”, he said. “‘Tis the last time we’ll be coming into port and offloading our catch. I know that the catch is small, and that this will be the last time you will be working on this ship, but that doesn’t mean I expect any less from you.

“I expect you all to do your jobs to the fullest extent. To your stations, and no growling, or complaining from you lot. Get this vessel underway, and ready for when we reach the docks.”

He tried to say it in his usual stern manner, but the emotions got the better of him.

The crew gave a shout and a salute, and were at the ready.

They sailed into harbor and docked as they had for the last decade. Soon the fish was unloaded, and the tidying up went underway. Sails were furled, cable and rope stowed, the decks cleaned, and the bilge was pumped out.

The crew packed up their possessions, and walked back onto land.

Arm in arm, they made their way to the pub, singing the old farewell tune.

And now it’s time to say goodbye

Leave her ,Johnny, leave her

For now the pumps are all pumped dry

And it’s time for us to leave her!

Leave her, Johnny, leave her,

Oh-ooo leave her, Johnny, leave her,

For the voyage is done and the winds don’t blow

And it’s time for us to leave her!

#writing #origional work #creative writing #my writing #short story

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tommeurs · 3 years

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Marble clad facades of Sailor's Snug Harbor c. 1834 on Staten Island ,NYC. Early philanthropic benevolent retirement home, founded to provide shelter and income for 19th century mariners, to old or no longer able to provide for themselves.Lasted well into the late 1960s.

#architecture #design #awesome

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silent-era-of-cinema · 4 years

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Amabel Ethelreid Normand (November 10, 1892 – February 23, 1930) was an American silent-film actress, screenwriter, director, and producer. She was a popular star and collaborator of Mack Sennett in his Keystone Studios films, and at the height of her career in the late 1910s and early 1920s had her own movie studio and production company. Onscreen, she appeared in 12 successful films with Charlie Chaplin and 17 with Roscoe "Fatty" Arbuckle, sometimes writing and directing (or co-writing/directing) movies featuring Chaplin as her leading man.

Throughout the 1920s, her name was linked with widely publicized scandals, including the 1922 murder of William Desmond Taylor and the 1924 shooting of Courtland S. Dines, who was shot by Normand's chauffeur using her pistol. She was a suspect in the first crime for a short period, but disregarded from the latter. Her film career declined, and she suffered a recurrence of tuberculosis in 1923, which led to a decline in her health, retirement from films, and her death in 1930 at age 37.

Born Amabel Ethelreid Normand in New Brighton, Richmond County, New York (before it was incorporated into New York City), she grew up in a working-class family. Her mother, Mary "Minne" Drury, of Providence, Rhode Island,[8] was of Irish heritage, while her father was French Canadian. Her father, Clodman "Claude" Normand, was employed as a cabinetmaker and stage carpenter at Sailors' Snug Harbor home for elderly seamen. She had 5 siblings.

Before she entered films at age 16 in 1909, Normand worked as an artist's model, which included posing for postcards illustrated by Charles Dana Gibson, creator of the Gibson Girl image, as well as for Butterick's clothing pattern manufacturers in lower Manhattan.

For a short time, she worked for Vitagraph Studios in New York City for $25 per week, but Vitagraph founder Albert E. Smith admitted she was one of several actresses about whom he made a mistake in estimating their "potential for future stardom."

Her lead performance, directed by D. W. Griffith in the dramatic 1911 short film Her Awakening, drew attention and she met director Mack Sennett while at Griffith's Biograph Company. She embarked on a topsy-turvy relationship with him; he later brought her across to California when he founded Keystone Studios in 1912. Her earlier Keystone films portrayed her as a bathing beauty, but Normand quickly demonstrated a flair for comedy and became a major star of Sennett's short films.

Normand appeared with Charles Chaplin and Roscoe "Fatty" Arbuckle in many short films. She is credited as being the first film star to receive a pie thrown in the face.

She played a key role in starting Chaplin's film career and acted as his leading lady and mentor in a string of films in 1914, sometimes co-writing and directing or co-directing films with him. Chaplin had considerable initial difficulty adjusting to the demands of film acting, and his performance suffered for it. After his first film appearance in Making a Living, Sennett felt he had made a costly mistake.

Most historians agree Normand persuaded Sennett to give Chaplin another chance,[14] and she and Chaplin appeared together in a dozen subsequent films, almost always as a couple in the lead roles. In 1914, she starred with Marie Dressler and Chaplin in Tillie's Punctured Romance, the first feature-length comedy. Earlier that same year, in January/February, Chaplin first played his Tramp character in Mabel's Strange Predicament, although it wound up being the second Tramp film released; Chaplin offered a detailed account of his experience on the film in his autobiography. Normand directed Chaplin and herself in the film.

She opened her own company in partnership with Mack Sennett 1916. It was based in Culver City and was a subsidiary of the Triangle Film Corporation. She lost the company in 1918 when Triangle experienced a massive shake up which also had Sennett lose Keystone and establish his own independent studio. In 1918, as her relationship with Sennett came to an end, Normand signed a $3,500-per-week contract with Samuel Goldwyn.[citation needed] Around that same time, Normand allegedly had a miscarriage with Goldwyn's child.

Normand's co-star in many films, Roscoe Arbuckle, was the defendant in three widely publicized trials for manslaughter in the 1921 death of actress Virginia Rappe. Although Arbuckle was acquitted, the scandal destroyed his career, and his films were banned from exhibition for a short time. Since she had made some of her best works with him, much of Normand's output was withheld from the public as a result. Arbuckle later returned to the screen as a director and actor but didn't attain his previous popularity despite being innocent and exonerated in court.

Director William Desmond Taylor shared her interest in books, and the two formed a close relationship. Author Robert Giroux claims that Taylor was deeply in love with Normand, who had originally approached him for help in curing her alleged cocaine dependency. According to Normand's subsequent statements to investigators, her repeated relapses were devastating for Taylor.

Giroux says that Taylor met with federal prosecutors shortly before his death and offered to assist them in filing charges against Normand's cocaine suppliers. Giroux expresses a belief that Normand's suppliers learned of this meeting and hired a contract killer to murder the director. According to Giroux, Normand suspected the reasons for Taylor's murder, but did not know the identity of the man who killed him.

According to Kevin Brownlow and John Kobal in their book Hollywood: The Pioneers, the idea that Taylor was murdered by drug dealers was invented by the studio for publicity purposes.

On the night of his murder, February 1, 1922, Normand left Taylor's bungalow at 7:45 pm in a happy mood, carrying a book he had lent her. They blew kisses to each other as her limousine drove away. Normand was the last person known to have seen Taylor alive. The Los Angeles Police Department subjected Normand to a grueling interrogation, but ruled her out as a suspect. Most subsequent writers have done the same. However, Normand's career had already slowed, and her reputation was tarnished. According to George Hopkins, who sat next to her at Taylor's funeral, Normand wept inconsolably.

In 1924, Normand's chauffeur Joe Kelly shot and wounded millionaire oil broker and amateur golfer Courtland S. Dines with her pistol. In response, several theaters pulled Normand's films, and her films were banned in Ohio by the state film censorship board.

Normand continued making films and was signed by Hal Roach Studios in 1926 after discussions with director/producer F. Richard Jones, who had directed her at Keystone. At Roach, she made the films Raggedy Rose, The Nickel-Hopper, and One Hour Married (her last film), all co-written by Stan Laurel, and was directed by Leo McCarey in Should Men Walk Home? The films were released with extensive publicity support from the Hollywood community, including her friend Mary Pickford.

In 1926, she married actor Lew Cody, with whom she had appeared in Mickey in 1918. They lived separately in nearby houses in Beverly Hills. However, Normand's health was in decline due to tuberculosis. After an extended stay in Pottenger Sanitorium, she died from tuberculosis on February 23, 1930 in Monrovia, California at the age of 37. She was interred as Mabel Normand-Cody at Calvary Cemetery, Los Angeles.

Mabel Normand has a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame for her contributions to motion pictures at 6821 Hollywood Boulevard.

Her film Mabel's Blunder (1914) was added to the National Film Registry in December 2009.

In June 2010, the New Zealand Film Archive reported the discovery of a print of Normand's film Won in a Closet (exhibited in New Zealand under its alternate title Won in a Cupboard), a short comedy previously believed lost. This film is a significant discovery, as Normand directed the movie and starred in the lead role, displaying her talents on both sides of the camera.

#mabel normand #silent era #silent hollywood #silent movie stars #1910s movies #1920s hollywood

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mooneyedandglowing · 6 years

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The Comedian as the Letter C

BY WALLACE STEVENS i The World without Imagination Nota: man is the intelligence of his soil, The sovereign ghost. As such, the Socrates Of snails, musician of pears, principium And lex. Sed quaeritur: is this same wig Of things, this nincompated pedagogue, Preceptor to the sea? Crispin at sea Created, in his day, a touch of doubt. An eye most apt in gelatines and jupes, Berries of villages, a barber's eye, An eye of land, of simple salad-beds, Of honest quilts, the eye of Crispin, hung On porpoises, instead of apricots, And on silentious porpoises, whose snouts Dibbled in waves that were mustachios, Inscrutable hair in an inscrutable world. One eats one paté, even of salt, quotha. It was not so much the lost terrestrial, The snug hibernal from that sea and salt, That century of wind in a single puff. What counted was mythology of self, Blotched out beyond unblotching. Crispin, The lutanist of fleas, the knave, the thane, The ribboned stick, the bellowing breeches, cloak Of China, cap of Spain, imperative haw Of hum, inquisitorial botanist, And general lexicographer of mute And maidenly greenhorns, now beheld himself, A skinny sailor peering in the sea-glass. What word split up in clickering syllables And storming under multitudinous tones Was name for this short-shanks in all that brunt? Crispin was washed away by magnitude. The whole of life that still remained in him Dwindled to one sound strumming in his ear, Ubiquitous concussion, slap and sigh, Polyphony beyond his baton's thrust. Could Crispin stem verboseness in the sea, The old age of a watery realist, Triton, dissolved in shifting diaphanes Of blue and green? A wordy, watery age That whispered to the sun's compassion, made A convocation, nightly, of the sea-stars, And on the cropping foot-ways of the moon Lay grovelling. Triton incomplicate with that Which made him Triton, nothing left of him, Except in faint, memorial gesturings, That were like arms and shoulders in the waves, Here, something in the rise and fall of wind That seemed hallucinating horn, and here, A sunken voice, both of remembering And of forgetfulness, in alternate strain. Just so an ancient Crispin was dissolved. The valet in the tempest was annulled. Bordeaux to Yucatan, Havana next, And then to Carolina. Simple jaunt. Crispin, merest minuscule in the gates, Dejected his manner to the turbulence. The salt hung on his spirit like a frost, The dead brine melted in him like a dew Of winter, until nothing of himself Remained, except some starker, barer self In a starker, barer world, in which the sun Was not the sun because it never shone With bland complaisance on pale parasols, Beetled, in chapels, on the chaste bouquets. Against his pipping sounds a trumpet cried Celestial sneering boisterously. Crispin Became an introspective voyager. Here was the veritable ding an sich, at last, Crispin confronting it, a vocable thing, But with a speech belched out of hoary darks Noway resembling his, a visible thing, And excepting negligible Triton, free From the unavoidable shadow of himself That lay elsewhere around him. Severance Was clear. The last distortion of romance Forsook the insatiable egotist. The sea Severs not only lands but also selves. Here was no help before reality. Crispin beheld and Crispin was made new. The imagination, here, could not evade, In poems of plums, the strict austerity Of one vast, subjugating, final tone. The drenching of stale lives no more fell down. What was this gaudy, gusty panoply? Out of what swift destruction did it spring? It was caparison of mind and cloud And something given to make whole among The ruses that were shattered by the large. ii Concerning the Thunderstorms of Yucatan In Yucatan, the Maya sonneteers Of the Caribbean amphitheatre, In spite of hawk and falcon, green toucan And jay, still to the night-bird made their plea, As if raspberry tanagers in palms, High up in orange air, were barbarous. But Crispin was too destitute to find In any commonplace the sought-for aid. He was a man made vivid by the sea, A man come out of luminous traversing, Much trumpeted, made desperately clear, Fresh from discoveries of tidal skies, To whom oracular rockings gave no rest. Into a savage color he went on. How greatly had he grown in his demesne, This auditor of insects! He that saw The stride of vanishing autumn in a park By way of decorous melancholy; he That wrote his couplet yearly to the spring, As dissertation of profound delight, Stopping, on voyage, in a land of snakes, Found his vicissitudes had much enlarged His apprehension, made him intricate In moody rucks, and difficult and strange In all desires, his destitution's mark. He was in this as other freemen are, Sonorous nutshells rattling inwardly. His violence was for aggrandizement And not for stupor, such as music makes For sleepers halfway waking. He perceived That coolness for his heat came suddenly, And only, in the fables that he scrawled With his own quill, in its indigenous dew, Of an aesthetic tough, diverse, untamed, Incredible to prudes, the mint of dirt, Green barbarism turning paradigm. Crispin foresaw a curious promenade Or, nobler, sensed an elemental fate, And elemental potencies and pangs, And beautiful barenesses as yet unseen, Making the most of savagery of palms, Of moonlight on the thick, cadaverous bloom That yuccas breed, and of the panther's tread. The fabulous and its intrinsic verse Came like two spirits parlaying, adorned In radiance from the Atlantic coign, For Crispin and his quill to catechize. But they came parlaying of such an earth, So thick with sides and jagged lops of green, So intertwined with serpent-kin encoiled Among the purple tufts, the scarlet crowns, Scenting the jungle in their refuges, So streaked with yellow, blue and green and red In beak and bud and fruity gobbet-skins, That earth was like a jostling festival Of seeds grown fat, too juicily opulent, Expanding in the gold's maternal warmth. So much for that. The affectionate emigrant found A new reality in parrot-squawks. Yet let that trifle pass. Now, as this odd Discoverer walked through the harbor streets Inspecting the cabildo, the façade Of the cathedral, making notes, he heard A rumbling, west of Mexico, it seemed, Approaching like a gasconade of drums. The white cabildo darkened, the façade, As sullen as the sky, was swallowed up In swift, successive shadows, dolefully. The rumbling broadened as it fell. The wind, Tempestuous clarion, with heavy cry, Came bluntly thundering, more terrible Than the revenge of music on bassoons. Gesticulating lightning, mystical, Made pallid flitter. Crispin, here, took flight. An annotator has his scruples, too. He knelt in the cathedral with the rest, This connoisseur of elemental fate, Aware of exquisite thought. The storm was one Of many proclamations of the kind, Proclaiming something harsher than he learned From hearing signboards whimper in cold nights Or seeing the midsummer artifice Of heat upon his pane. This was the span Of force, the quintessential fact, the note Of Vulcan, that a valet seeks to own, The thing that makes him envious in phrase. And while the torrent on the roof still droned He felt the Andean breath. His mind was free And more than free, elate, intent, profound And studious of a self possessing him, That was not in him in the crusty town From which he sailed. Beyond him, westward, lay The mountainous ridges, purple balustrades, In which the thunder, lapsing in its clap, Let down gigantic quavers of its voice, For Crispin to vociferate again. iii Approaching Carolina The book of moonlight is not written yet Nor half begun, but, when it is, leave room For Crispin, fagot in the lunar fire, Who, in the hubbub of his pilgrimage Through sweating changes, never could forget That wakefulness or meditating sleep, In which the sulky strophes willingly Bore up, in time, the somnolent, deep songs. Leave room, therefore, in that unwritten book For the legendary moonlight that once burned In Crispin's mind above a continent. America was always north to him, A northern west or western north, but north, And thereby polar, polar-purple, chilled And lank, rising and slumping from a sea Of hardy foam, receding flatly, spread In endless ledges, glittering, submerged And cold in a boreal mistiness of the moon. The spring came there in clinking pannicles Of half-dissolving frost, the summer came, If ever, whisked and wet, not ripening, Before the winter's vacancy returned. The myrtle, if the myrtle ever bloomed, Was like a glacial pink upon the air. The green palmettoes in crepuscular ice Clipped frigidly blue-black meridians, Morose chiaroscuro, gauntly drawn. How many poems he denied himself In his observant progress, lesser things Than the relentless contact he desired; How many sea-masks he ignored; what sounds He shut out from his tempering ear; what thoughts, Like jades affecting the sequestered bride; And what descants, he sent to banishment! Perhaps the Arctic moonlight really gave The liaison, the blissful liaison, Between himself and his environment, Which was, and is, chief motive, first delight, For him, and not for him alone. It seemed Elusive, faint, more mist than moon, perverse, Wrong as a divagation to Peking, To him that postulated as his theme The vulgar, as his theme and hymn and flight, A passionately niggling nightingale. Moonlight was an evasion, or, if not, A minor meeting, facile, delicate. Thus he conceived his voyaging to be An up and down between two elements, A fluctuating between sun and moon, A sally into gold and crimson forms, As on this voyage, out of goblinry, And then retirement like a turning back And sinking down to the indulgences That in the moonlight have their habitude. But let these backward lapses, if they would, Grind their seductions on him, Crispin knew It was a flourishing tropic he required For his refreshment, an abundant zone, Prickly and obdurate, dense, harmonious Yet with a harmony not rarefied Nor fined for the inhibited instruments Of over-civil stops. And thus he tossed Between a Carolina of old time, A little juvenile, an ancient whim, And the visible, circumspect presentment drawn From what he saw across his vessel's prow. He came. The poetic hero without palms Or jugglery, without regalia. And as he came he saw that it was spring, A time abhorrent to the nihilist Or searcher for the fecund minimum. The moonlight fiction disappeared. The spring, Although contending featly in its veils, Irised in dew and early fragrancies, Was gemmy marionette to him that sought A sinewy nakedness. A river bore The vessel inward. Tilting up his nose, He inhaled the rancid rosin, burly smells Of dampened lumber, emanations blown From warehouse doors, the gustiness of ropes, Decays of sacks, and all the arrant stinks That helped him round his rude aesthetic out. He savored rankness like a sensualist. He marked the marshy ground around the dock, The crawling railroad spur, the rotten fence, Curriculum for the marvellous sophomore. It purified. It made him see how much Of what he saw he never saw at all. He gripped more closely the essential prose As being, in a world so falsified, The one integrity for him, the one Discovery still possible to make, To which all poems were incident, unless That prose should wear a poem's guise at last. iv The Idea of a Colony Nota: his soil is man's intelligence. That's better. That's worth crossing seas to find. Crispin in one laconic phrase laid bare His cloudy drift and planned a colony. Exit the mental moonlight, exit lex, Rex and principium, exit the whole Shebang. Exeunt omnes. Here was prose More exquisite than any tumbling verse: A still new continent in which to dwell. What was the purpose of his pilgrimage, Whatever shape it took in Crispin's mind, If not, when all is said, to drive away The shadow of his fellows from the skies, And, from their stale intelligence released, To make a new intelligence prevail? Hence the reverberations in the words Of his first central hymns, the celebrants Of rankest trivia, tests of the strength Of his aesthetic, his philosophy, The more invidious, the more desired. The florist asking aid from cabbages, The rich man going bare, the paladin Afraid, the blind man as astronomer, The appointed power unwielded from disdain. His western voyage ended and began. The torment of fastidious thought grew slack, Another, still more bellicose, came on. He, therefore, wrote his prolegomena, And, being full of the caprice, inscribed Commingled souvenirs and prophecies. He made a singular collation. Thus: The natives of the rain are rainy men. Although they paint effulgent, azure lakes, And April hillsides wooded white and pink, Their azure has a cloudy edge, their white And pink, the water bright that dogwood bears. And in their music showering sounds intone. On what strange froth does the gross Indian dote, What Eden sapling gum, what honeyed gore, What pulpy dram distilled of innocence, That streaking gold should speak in him Or bask within his images and words? If these rude instances impeach themselves By force of rudeness, let the principle Be plain. For application Crispin strove, Abhorring Turk as Esquimau, the lute As the marimba, the magnolia as rose. Upon these premises propounding, he Projected a colony that should extend To the dusk of a whistling south below the south. A comprehensive island hemisphere. The man in Georgia waking among pines Should be pine-spokesman. The responsive man, Planting his pristine cores in Florida, Should prick thereof, not on the psaltery, But on the banjo's categorical gut, Tuck tuck, while the flamingos flapped his bays. Sepulchral señors, bibbing pale mescal, Oblivious to the Aztec almanacs, Should make the intricate Sierra scan. And dark Brazilians in their cafés, Musing immaculate, pampean dits, Should scrawl a vigilant anthology, To be their latest, lucent paramour. These are the broadest instances. Crispin, Progenitor of such extensive scope, Was not indifferent to smart detail. The melon should have apposite ritual, Performed in verd apparel, and the peach, When its black branches came to bud, belle day, Should have an incantation. And again, When piled on salvers its aroma steeped The summer, it should have a sacrament And celebration. Shrewd novitiates Should be the clerks of our experience. These bland excursions into time to come, Related in romance to backward flights, However prodigal, however proud, Contained in their afflatus the reproach That first drove Crispin to his wandering. He could not be content with counterfeit, With masquerade of thought, with hapless words That must belie the racking masquerade, With fictive flourishes that preordained His passion's permit, hang of coat, degree Of buttons, measure of his salt. Such trash Might help the blind, not him, serenely sly. It irked beyond his patience. Hence it was, Preferring text to gloss, he humbly served Grotesque apprenticeship to chance event, A clown, perhaps, but an aspiring clown. There is a monotonous babbling in our dreams That makes them our dependent heirs, the heirs Of dreamers buried in our sleep, and not The oncoming fantasies of better birth. The apprentice knew these dreamers. If he dreamed Their dreams, he did it in a gingerly way. All dreams are vexing. Let them be expunged. But let the rabbit run, the cock declaim. Trinket pasticcio, flaunting skyey sheets, With Crispin as the tiptoe cozener? No, no: veracious page on page, exact. v A Nice Shady Home Crispin as hermit, pure and capable, Dwelt in the land. Perhaps if discontent Had kept him still the pricking realist, Choosing his element from droll confect Of was and is and shall or ought to be, Beyond Bordeaux, beyond Havana, far Beyond carked Yucatan, he might have come To colonize his polar planterdom And jig his chits upon a cloudy knee. But his emprize to that idea soon sped. Crispin dwelt in the land and dwelling there Slid from his continent by slow recess To things within his actual eye, alert To the difficulty of rebellious thought When the sky is blue. The blue infected will. It may be that the yarrow in his fields Sealed pensive purple under its concern. But day by day, now this thing and now that Confined him, while it cosseted, condoned, Little by little, as if the suzerain soil Abashed him by carouse to humble yet Attach. It seemed haphazard denouement. He first, as realist, admitted that Whoever hunts a matinal continent May, after all, stop short before a plum And be content and still be realist. The words of things entangle and confuse. The plum survives its poems. It may hang In the sunshine placidly, colored by ground Obliquities of those who pass beneath, Harlequined and mazily dewed and mauved In bloom. Yet it survives in its own form, Beyond these changes, good, fat, guzzly fruit. So Crispin hasped on the surviving form, For him, of shall or ought to be in is. Was he to bray this in profoundest brass Arointing his dreams with fugal requiems? Was he to company vastest things defunct With a blubber of tom-toms harrowing the sky? Scrawl a tragedian's testament? Prolong His active force in an inactive dirge, Which, let the tall musicians call and call, Should merely call him dead? Pronounce amen Through choirs infolded to the outmost clouds? Because he built a cabin who once planned Loquacious columns by the ructive sea? Because he turned to salad-beds again? Jovial Crispin, in calamitous crape? Should he lay by the personal and make Of his own fate an instance of all fate? What is one man among so many men? What are so many men in such a world? Can one man think one thing and think it long? Can one man be one thing and be it long? The very man despising honest quilts Lies quilted to his poll in his despite. For realists, what is is what should be. And so it came, his cabin shuffled up, His trees were planted, his duenna brought Her prismy blonde and clapped her in his hands, The curtains flittered and the door was closed. Crispin, magister of a single room, Latched up the night. So deep a sound fell down It was as if the solitude concealed And covered him and his congenial sleep. So deep a sound fell down it grew to be A long soothsaying silence down and down. The crickets beat their tambours in the wind, Marching a motionless march, custodians. In the presto of the morning, Crispin trod, Each day, still curious, but in a round Less prickly and much more condign than that He once thought necessary. Like Candide, Yeoman and grub, but with a fig in sight, And cream for the fig and silver for the cream, A blonde to tip the silver and to taste The rapey gouts. Good star, how that to be Annealed them in their cabin ribaldries! Yet the quotidian saps philosophers And men like Crispin like them in intent, If not in will, to track the knaves of thought. But the quotidian composed as his, Of breakfast ribands, fruits laid in their leaves, The tomtit and the cassia and the rose, Although the rose was not the noble thorn Of crinoline spread, but of a pining sweet, Composed of evenings like cracked shutters flung Upon the rumpling bottomness, and nights In which those frail custodians watched, Indifferent to the tepid summer cold, While he poured out upon the lips of her That lay beside him, the quotidian Like this, saps like the sun, true fortuner. For all it takes it gives a humped return Exchequering from piebald fiscs unkeyed. vi And Daughters with Curls Portentous enunciation, syllable To blessed syllable affined, and sound Bubbling felicity in cantilene, Prolific and tormenting tenderness Of music, as it comes to unison, Forgather and bell boldly Crispin's last Deduction. Thrum, with a proud douceur His grand pronunciamento and devise. The chits came for his jigging, bluet-eyed, Hands without touch yet touching poignantly, Leaving no room upon his cloudy knee, Prophetic joint, for its diviner young. The return to social nature, once begun, Anabasis or slump, ascent or chute, Involved him in midwifery so dense His cabin counted as phylactery, Then place of vexing palankeens, then haunt Of children nibbling at the sugared void, Infants yet eminently old, then dome And halidom for the unbraided femes, Green crammers of the green fruits of the world, Bidders and biders for its ecstasies, True daughters both of Crispin and his clay. All this with many mulctings of the man, Effective colonizer sharply stopped In the door-yard by his own capacious bloom. But that this bloom grown riper, showing nibs Of its eventual roundness, puerile tints Of spiced and weathery rouges, should complex The stopper to indulgent fatalist Was unforeseen. First Crispin smiled upon His goldenest demoiselle, inhabitant, She seemed, of a country of the capuchins, So delicately blushed, so humbly eyed, Attentive to a coronal of things Secret and singular. Second, upon A second similar counterpart, a maid Most sisterly to the first, not yet awake Excepting to the motherly footstep, but Marvelling sometimes at the shaken sleep. Then third, a thing still flaxen in the light, A creeper under jaunty leaves. And fourth, Mere blusteriness that gewgaws jollified, All din and gobble, blasphemously pink. A few years more and the vermeil capuchin Gave to the cabin, lordlier than it was, The dulcet omen fit for such a house. The second sister dallying was shy To fetch the one full-pinioned one himself Out of her botches, hot embosomer. The third one gaping at the orioles Lettered herself demurely as became A pearly poetess, peaked for rhapsody. The fourth, pent now, a digit curious. Four daughters in a world too intricate In the beginning, four blithe instruments Of differing struts, four voices several In couch, four more personæ, intimate As buffo, yet divers, four mirrors blue That should be silver, four accustomed seeds Hinting incredible hues, four self-same lights That spread chromatics in hilarious dark, Four questioners and four sure answerers. Crispin concocted doctrine from the rout. The world, a turnip once so readily plucked, Sacked up and carried overseas, daubed out Of its ancient purple, pruned to the fertile main, And sown again by the stiffest realist, Came reproduced in purple, family font, The same insoluble lump. The fatalist Stepped in and dropped the chuckling down his craw, Without grace or grumble. Score this anecdote Invented for its pith, not doctrinal In form though in design, as Crispin willed, Disguised pronunciamento, summary, Autumn's compendium, strident in itself But muted, mused, and perfectly revolved In those portentous accents, syllables, And sounds of music coming to accord Upon his law, like their inherent sphere, Seraphic proclamations of the pure Delivered with a deluging onwardness. Or if the music sticks, if the anecdote Is false, if Crispin is a profitless Philosopher, beginning with green brag, Concluding fadedly, if as a man Prone to distemper he abates in taste, Fickle and fumbling, variable, obscure, Glozing his life with after-shining flicks, Illuminating, from a fancy gorged By apparition, plain and common things, Sequestering the fluster from the year, Making gulped potions from obstreperous drops, And so distorting, proving what he proves Is nothing, what can all this matter since The relation comes, benignly, to its end? So may the relation of each man be clipped.

#wallace stevens #lit #literature #poetry #poem

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thereturnofthedirtyblog · 6 years

Text

STATES VISITED BY GHOST ADVENTURES

Alabama :

1.05 – Sloss Furnaces: Birmingham, Alabama, US 4.07 – Vulture Mine: Wickenburg, Arizona, US

Alaska :

Arizona :

2.05 –Birdcage Theater: Tombstone, Arizona, US 4.20 – Jerome Grand Hotel: Jerome, Arizona, US 6.03 – The Copper Queen Hotel & The Oliver House: Bisbee, Arizona, US 10.08 – Apache Junction: Apache Junction, Arizona, US 10.09 – Return to Tombstone: Tombstone, Arizona, US 11.7 – Grand Canyon Caverns: Peach Springs, Arizona, US 12.8 – Hell Hole Prison: Yuma, Arizona, US 12.9 – The Domes: Casa Grande, Arizona, US 12.12 – Stardust Ranch: Buckeye, Arizona, US 13.3 – Palace Saloon: Prescott, Arizona, US 15.10 – Phelps Dodge Hospital: Ajo, Arizona, US

15.11 – The Slaughter House: Tucson, Arizona, US 16.4 – Old Gila County Jail and Courthouse: Globe, Arizona, US

Arkansas :

4.10 – Fort Chaffee: Fort Smith, Arkansas, US

California :

2.01 – Preston Castle: Ione, California, US 2.03 – La Purisima Mission: Lompoc, California, US 3.07 – Linda Vista Hospital: Boyle Heights, Los Angeles, California, US 3.10 – Clovis Wolfe Manor: Clovis, California, US 4.08 – USS Hornet: Alameda, California, USNovember 5, 2010 4.11 – Amargosa Opera House: Death Valley Junction, California, US 4.15 – Pico House Hotel: Los Angeles, California, US 4.23 – Sacramento Tunnels: Sacramento, California, US 5.03 – Old Town San Diego: San Diego, California, US 5.04 – Winchester Mystery House: San Jose, California, US 6.04 – The National Hotel: Nevada City, California, US 6.05 – Return to Linda Vista Hospital: Los Angeles, California, US 7.03 – Point Sur Lighthouse: Big Sur, California, US 7.08 – Brookdale Lodge: Brookdale, California, US

7.09 – Tor House: Carmel, California, US 7.15 – Market Street Cinema: San Francisco, California, US 7.17 – Glen Tavern Inn: Santa Paula, California, US 8.03 – Tuolumne General Hospital: Sonora, California, US 8.05 – Yost Theater & Ritz Hotel: Santa Ana, California, US 8.08 – Alcatraz: San Francisco, California, US 9.1 – Sharon Tate Ghost/The Oman House: Los Angeles, California, US 9.6 – Heritage Junction: Santa Clarita, California, US 9.7 – Fort MacArthur Museum/Battle of Los Angeles: Los Angeles, California, US

9.11 – Whaley House: San Diego, California, US 10.1 – Queen Mary: Long Beach, California, US 11.6 – Los Coches Adobe: Soledad, California, US, Salinas, California, US 11.8 – Haunted Hollywood: Los Angeles, California, US 12.1 – Black Dahlia House: Los Angeles, California, US 12.2 – Secret Scientology Lab: Los Angeles, California, US 12.3 – Bracken Fern Manor/Tudor House: Lake Arrowhead, California, US 12.5 – Chinese Town of Locke: Walnut Grove, California, US 12.6 – Star of India: San Diego, California, US 12.11 – Return to Winchester Mystery House: San Jose, California, US 13.4 – Reseda House of Evil: Los Angeles, California, US 13.5 – Dorothea Puente Murder House: Sacramento, California, US 13.10 – Zalud House: Porterville, California, US 14.2 – Freak Show Murder House: Los Angeles, California, US 14.5 – Silent Movie Theater: Los Angeles, California, US 14.10 – The Viper Room: West Hollywood, California, US 16.1 – Ripley’s Believe It or Not: Hollywood, California, US 16.2 – The Alley of Darkness: North Hollywood, California, US 16.3 – Kennedy Mine: Jackson, California, US 16.5 – Hotel Léger: Mokelumne Hill, California, US 17.2 – Westerfeld House: San Francisco, California, US 17.3 – Crisis in Oakdale: Oakdale, California, US 17.5 – Terror in Fontana: Fontana, California, US 17.6 – Riverside Plane Graveyard: Riverside, California, US

Colorado :

4.05 – Stanley Hotel: Estes Park, Colorado, US 6.02 – Peabody-Whitehead Mansion: Denver, Colorado, US 7.07 – Cripple Creek"Cripple Creek, Colorado, US

Florissant, Colorado, US 13.1 – Colorado Gold Mine: Idaho Springs, Colorado, US 14.6 – Exorcism in Erie: Erie, Colorado, US 15.4 – Museum of the Mountain West: Montrose, Colorado, US

Connecticut :

3.05 – Remington Arms Factory: Bridgeport, Connecticut, US 6.06 – The Galka Family: Granby, Connecticut, US

Delaware :

Florida :

1.04 – The Riddle House: Royal Palm Beach, Florida, US 2.02 – Castillo De San Marcos: St. Augustine, Florida, US

Georgia :

2.07 – Moon River Brewing Company: Savannah, Georgia, US 9.10 – Haunted Savannah: Savannah, Georgia, US

Hawaii :

Idaho :

1.08 – Idaho State Penitentiary: Boise, Idaho, US 11.11 – Lava Hot Springs Inn: Lava Hot Springs, Idaho, US 15.3 – Albion Normal School: Albion, Idaho, US 17.1 – Idaho State Reform School: St. Anthony, Idaho, US

Illinois :

5.01 – Ashmore Estates: Ashmore, Illinois, US 7.02 – Excalibur Nightclub: Chicago, Illinois, US

Indiana :

7.05 – Black Moon Manor: Greenfield, Indiana, US 8.10 – Thornhaven Manor: New Castle, Indiana, US 9.9 – Fox Hollow Farm: Carmel, Indiana, US

Iowa :

4.13 – Villisca Axe Murder House: Villisca, Iowa, US 11.1 – Edinburgh Manor: Scotch Grove, Iowa, US

Kansas :

10.6 – Sallie House: Atchison, Kansas, US

Kentucky :

1.01 – Bobby Mackey’s Music World : Wilder, Kentucky, US 4.03 – Return to Bobby Mackey’s: Wilder, Kentucky, US 4.04 – Waverly Hills Sanatorium: Louisville, Kentucky, US 4.25 – Kentucky Slave House: Maysville, Kentucky, US 5.08 – Rocky Point Manor: Harrodsburg, Kentucky, US

Perryville, Kentucky, US 8.11 – Battle of Perryville: Field Hospitals"Perryville, Kentucky, US

Louisiana :

2.04 – Magnolia Plantation: Natchitoches, Louisiana, US

7.14 – New Orleans: New Orleans, Louisiana, US 9.2 – The Myrtles Plantation: St. Francisville, Louisiana, US

Maine :

Maryland :

Massachusetts :

1.02 – Houghton Mansion : North Adams, Massachusetts, US 4.18 – Valentine’s Day Special(Longfellow’s Wayside Inn): Sudbury, Massachusetts, US 4.19 – Salem Witch House/Lyceum Restaurant: Salem, Massachusetts, US 5.05 – Lizzie Borden House: Fall River, Massachusetts, US 8.06 – Haunted Victorian Mansion: Gardner, Massachusetts, US 13.9 – Dumas Brothel: Butte, Montana, US

Michigan :

Minnesota :

7.04 – The Palmer House: Sauk Centre, Minnesota, US 10.7 – Nopeming Sanatorium: Duluth, Minnesota, US

Mississippi :

7.18 – Kings Tavern: Natchez, Mississippi, US

Missouri :

7.10 – Union Station: Kansas City, Missouri, US 8.04 – Missouri State Penitentiary: Jefferson City, Missouri, US 8.07 – The Exorcist House: Bel-Nor, Missouri, US 10.2 – Lemp Mansion: St. Louis, Missouri, US 11.9 – Odd Fellows Asylum: Liberty, Missouri, US 15.5 – Pythian Castle: Springfield, Missouri, US 15.6 – The Titanic Museum: Branson, Missouri, US

Montana :

9.4 – Bannack Ghost Town: Dillon, Montana, US 11.2 – Old Montana State Prison: Deer Lodge, Montana, US 13.6 – Hotel Metlen: Dillon, Montana, US 13.8 – Twin Bridges Orphanage: Twin Bridges, Montana, US 13.9 – Dumas Brothel: Butte, Montana, US

Nebraska :

Nevada :

3.06 – Old Washoe Club and Chollar Mine: Virginia City, Nevada, US 4.09 – La Palazza Mansion: Las Vegas, Nevada, US 4.16 – Goldfield: Goldfield, Nevada, US 4.17 – Bonnie Spring Ranch: Blue Diamond, Nevada, US 4.22 – Madame Tussauds Wax Museum: Las Vegas, Nevada, US 5.02 – Mizpah Hotel: Tonopah, Nevada, US 5.07 – Return to Virginia City: Virginia City, Nevada, US

6.07 – The Riviera Hotel: Las Vegas, Nevada, US 7.16 – Goldfield Hotel: Redemption: Goldfield, Nevada, US 8.01 – Pioneer Saloon: Goodsprings, Nevada, US

Sandy Valley, Nevada, US 8.09 – Mustang Ranch: Clark, Nevada, US 9.12 – Overland Hotel and Saloon: Pioche, Nevada, US 11.10 – Clown Motel and Goldfield High School: Tonopah, Nevada, US

Goldfield, Nevada, US 12.4 – Return to the Riviera: Las Vegas, Nevada, US 12.10 – Nevada State Prison: Carson City, Nevada, US 12.13 – The Haunted Museum: Las Vegas, Nevada, US 13.2 – Mackay Mansion: Virginia City, Nevada, US 15.8 – Eureka Mining Town: Eureka, Nevada, US 15.9 – Sin City Exorcism: Las Vegas, Nevada, US 16.7 – The Washoe Club: Final Chapter: Virginia City, Nevada, US 17.7 – Gates of Hell House: Las Vegas, Nevada, US

New Hampshire :

New Jersey :

1.06 – Abandoned Psychiatric Hospital: Cedar Grove, New Jersey, US

New Mexico :

9.8 – St. James Hotel: Cimarron, New Mexico, US 11.5 – Haunted Harvey House: Las Vegas, New Mexico, US 14.4 – Double Eagle Restaurant: Mesilla, New Mexico, US

Las Cruces, New Mexico, US 14.7 – Skinwalker Canyon: Ojo Amarillo, New Mexico, US 14.8 – Upper Fruitland Curse: Upper Fruitland, New Mexico, US 16.8 – Lewis Flats School: Deming, New Mexico, US

New York :

3.08 – Execution Rocks Lighthouse: Port Washington, New York, US 4.02 – Rolling Hills Asylum: Bethany, New York, US 5.06 – Letchworth Village: Haverstraw, New York, US 7.13 – Sailor’s Snug Harbor: Staten Island, New York, US 9.3 – George Washington Ghost/Morris Jumel Mansion: Manhattan, New York, US,Smithtown, New York, US

North Carolina :

North Dakota :

13.11 – Dakota’s Sanatorium of Death: San Haven, North Dakota, US

Ohio :

3.04 – Ohio State Reformatory: Mansfield, Ohio, US 3.09 – Prospect Place: Trinway, Ohio, US 9.13 – Old Licking County Jail: Newark, Ohio, US

Oklahoma :

10.3 – Zozo Demon: Oklahoma City, Oklahoma, US 14.1 – Stone Lion Inn: Guthrie, Oklahoma, US 14.3 – Samaritan Cult House: Guthrie, Oklahoma, US

Oregon :

6.01 – Shanghai Tunnels: Portland, Oregon, US 15.1 – Golden Ghost Town: Golden, Oregon, US 15.7 – Wolf Creek Inn: Wolf Creek, Oregon, US 16.6 – Enchanted Forest: Turner, Oregon, US

Pennsylvania :

2.06 – Eastern State Penitentiary: Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, US 3.02 – Pennhurst State School: Spring City, Pennsylvania, US 4.01 – Gettysburg: Gettysburg, Pennsylvania, US 4.06 – Hill View Manor: New Castle, Pennsylvania, US

Rhode Island :

South Carolina :

5.10 – Old Charleston Jail: Charleston, South Carolina, US

South Dakota :

Tennessee :

4.24 – Hales Bar Marina and Dam: Haletown, Tennessee, US 4.27 – Loretta Lynn’s Plantation House: Hurricane Mills, Tennessee, US 10.5 – Bell Witch Cave: Adams, Tennessee, US 11.4 – Old Lincoln County Hospital: Fayetteville, Tennessee, US

Texas :

4.21 – Yorktown Hospital: Yorktown, Texas, US 7.01 – Central Unit Prison: Sugar Land, Texas, US

Huntsville, Texas, US 7.11 – Crazy Town: Mineral Wells, Texas, US 8.02 – Black Swan Inn: San Antonio, Texas, US 10.11 – Texas Horror Hotel: Seguin, Texas, US,San Antonio, Texas, US 13.12 – De Soto Hotel and Concordia Cemetery: El Paso, Texas, US 13.13 – Goatman’s Bridge: Denton, Texas, US

Utah :

4.26 – Tooele Hospital: Tooele, Utah, US 9.5 – Fear Factory: Salt Lake City, Utah, US 12.7 – Leslie’s Family Tree: Santaquin, Utah, US 13.7 – St. Ann’s Retreat: Logan Canyon, Utah, US 14.9 – Witches in Magna: Magna, Utah, US 14.11 – Asylum 49: Tooele, Utah, US 15.2 – Ogden Possession: Ogden, Utah, US 16.9 – Kay’s Hollow: Kaysville, Utah, US 17.4 – Tintic Mining District: Eureka, Utah, US

Vermont :

Virginia :

Washington :

4.14 – Kell’s Irish Pub Restaurant: Seattle, Washington, US 10.10 – Demons in Seattle: Bothell, Washington 11.3 – Manresa Castle: Port Townsend, Washington, US

West Virginia :

1.03 – Moundsville Penitentiary : Moundsville, West Virginia, US 3.01 – Ghost Adventures Live – The Trans-Allegheny Lunatic Asylum: Weston, West Virginia, US

Wisconsin :

Wyoming :

7.12 – Wyoming Frontier Prison: Rawlins, Wyoming, US

OTHER PLACES VISITED :

1.07 – Edinburgh Vaults: City of Edinburgh, Edinburgh, Scotland, UK] 2.08 – Ancient Ram Inn: Wotton-under-Edge, Gloucestershire, England, UK 3.03 – Poveglia Island: Venice, Veneto, Italy 4.12 – Olde Fort Erie: Fort Erie, Ontario, Canada 5.09 – Rose Hall: Montego Bay, St. James Parish, Jamaica

10.4 – Island of Dolls: Xochimilco, Mexico City, Mexico

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