Greenwich Village Bohemia: A Winter Wonderland Turns Into An American Renaissance(Part III).
© Robert Edward Bell
Greenwich Village had certainly grown over the years into a cultural oasis that seemed to have waters brimming to the fullest, that some exclaimed that the energy produced in those years would never cease or die. They were wrong, of course, for artistic scenes seem to follow some strange type of hyperbolic curve that slowly rises as an artistic movement begins, building steadly towards an apex, a high point, and then falling slightly, or at other times rapidly depending on the longevity of the initial amount of energy created. How long the rise can be sustained is difficult to determine, but it is apparent that regardless of the characteristics, every cultural scene reaches an apex and then falls into the oblivion of an age, eventually being replaced by the next artistic creation, the next big thing on the social agenda. Trends normally last more briefly, whereas a true artistic movement may stand the test of time and be remembered in the annals of literature. What causes this decline is one of interest and debate among scholars who study the arts. In the case of Greenwich, there are a few clues that were even apparent, as the first artists started to move into the village in the early nineteen hundreds. Way before the beats ever arrived in New York, there were stains underneath the beautiful illure of Greenwich. Hippolyte Havel, the resident village anarchist, was quick to note in her essay, "The Spirit Of The Village", that there was a dark almost sinister undertone to beauty of the artistic soul in the village. As the essay begins, Havel describes the sense of being that arises from the spirit of the Village. At first, the essay is optomistic in the proclamation that this innate spirit has only begun, and is far from falling into the depths of oblivion, as some lovers of Greenwich had begun to observe.
"When I speak of Greenwich Village I have no geographical conception in mind. The term Greenwich Village is to me a spiritual zone of the mind. Is there any raison d'etre for the existence of a spiritual Greenwich Village ? I believe there is. Those fellow wanderers who pawned their last coat in rue Franc Bourgeoise, who shivered in rue St. Jacques and searched for the cheapest brasserie in rue Lepic, those who crowded the Olympe in rue de la Gaiete, will understand the charm of the Village. A ramble along Charlton and Varick Streets is a reverie not to speak of the sounds of---how do Minette Lane, Patchin
