As the snow melts and the first blossoms of spring appear over the next few weeks, how will New Yorkers remember one of their first blizzardly winters in a decade?
The grumps will inevitably grouse about the slushy morning commute and the piles of dog excrement left on the melting gutter icebergs; the icy sidewalks threatening human ankles and the salt spills harming pet paws; and the seemingly bottomless sinkholes of goop at the cross-sections of Broadway that require acrobatic leaps to avoid.
But lift your eyes from that sludgy obstacle course and consider the humble snowmen and the spontaneity of human creativity.
Even before the last snowflake fell in Brooklyn, residents were sculpting the bodices and twiggy arms of snowmen in Herbert Von King Park. It became a hotbed of frozen artistry.
Snow mermaid.
Snow Minion.
Snow cat.
Snow poop?
As the blizzard cleared on Monday morning, one could see clearly that the neighborhood in Bedford-Stuyvesant had produced a sculpture park filled with dozens of icy totems. But what stood out was the creativity of residents.
Collaboration was key. What came first? The snow baby sitting on the bench or the lounging mermaid beside him?
Did the same person who built the snow pyramid also build the snow sphinx?
And the snow toilet?
And the snow swan?
There is a cliché about New York being a city made of moments, but many clichés are based on something true.
When the summer was sweltering New Yorkers, residents of the same Brooklyn neighborhood built a makeshift aquarium from a broken hydrant and a divot in the concrete. Residents called it a “conversation piece” that broadcast to the world the strength of their community — until city workers patched the hydrant and paved over the fish pond.
The garden of snowmen was another New York moment, filled with igloos, frogs and abstract swirls. These creations emerged from blankets of snow and were staged in the environment, relaxing on park benches and stretching against a nearby tree.
But the snowman knows that its purpose is limited. Temperatures in the city are already rising; the street icebergs are evaporating and the slush puddles are growing.
There is something bittersweet about watching these snowmen go. They shrink. Their noses fall off. They collapse.
But for a brief, chilly moment, there was a garden in Brooklyn for them.
Visuals by Michael Tyrone Delaney.
Produced by Rebecca Lieberman and Jolie Ruben.
Zachary Small is a Times reporter writing about the art world’s relationship to money, politics and technology.
The post Of Ice and Men. And Frogs. And Cats. And Minions. appeared first on New York Times.
