A Reunion of Little Italy in East Harlem

Oh, boy it's been a busy month! I've been away for a week, and the week before that was busy - but I am now going to show you what I was up to on August 9th - finally.

First, I must tell you in case you're unaware, that for all the talk of Little Italy down on Mulberry Street, the Italian Community of East Harlem in the first half of the twentieth century, on into the early sixties, was one of the largest Italian communities in the entire nation. From 104th Street all the way north beyond 116th Street, from 2nd Avenue to the East River, the city was Italian.

Although most Italians have moved out to Long Island, Westchester, or New Jersey, many still come back for the Dance of the Giglio. "The what?"

The Giglio Society of East Harlem was formed in 2000 to bring back a tradition that had been formed in Italy in the 1880s to celebrate the Miracle of Sant' Antonio in Brusciano, Italy, who apparently, to the faithful, cured a young boy of a terrible illness.

In 2000, after a 29 year hiatus, during which time many of the resident Italians moved away to Long Island, New Jersey, and elsewhere, the Dance of the Giglio was brought back to East Harlem, and has been here ever since. Just as there are three Festivals of the Giglio in Italy, so are there three in the New York area: the largest in Williamsburg, Brooklyn; in East Harlem, and a third in Massapequa, Long Island. (None, however, is as large as the one in Nola, which celebrates the return of their citizens from slavery in Northern Africa, where 8 giant giglia are built and danced; there are six done in Brusciano.) At right is an earlier one in East Harlem.

So, while there may be less than 1000 Italians still living in East Harlem, there are 300 members - the Giglio Boys (and Girls!) - of the Giglio Society of East Harlem who come every year now to build the Giglio and celebrate. Let's see what they did!

I ran up along the East River to Thomas Jefferson Park, at E. 112th Street, and up to the center of all the action: Pleasant Avenue and E. 114th Street - where Rao's is (see my earlier post!) - and saw that I was early for the "first lift." (I'll explain soon!) Everyone was crowding around, eating, talking - many Italian/Americans of all ages.

But it didn't seem too crowded. I walked around to see what was happening.







Everybody was chatting, just strolling around, buying and eating food ... and I realized, having been around this neighborhood before over the past 15 years, that most of these people are not from around there at all! At least not any more - and that's the glory of it all.

All of them seem to come to the neighborhood to remake the relationships they had when growing up around there, or to maintain a tradition their parents or grandparents had when they were part of that vital Italian community earlier in the twentieth century.

But - where was this "Giglio"?! Right there - on the left of the picture above on the left - as if it wasn't important, yet. Everyone has to mingle and talk first. And, browse among the vendors. Like this fellow, who is selling hand-rolled cigars of virtually any size. I almost bought one, you know, to ah, support local vendors ... but I held the urge in check and didn't indulge.

I walked down toward First Avenue on 114th Street, to see how things may have developed since I'd last spent time there. I saw that the little garden the community developed out of an empty pair of lots - on 115th as well as on 114th street - have been really nicely planted and decorated.

Actually, I was really impressed, for the prospect of their church, Our Lady of Mt. Carmel (which is next to the National Museum of Catholic Art and History on East 115th Street) is now really quite impressive - and seems to be even closer to its heritage.

I thought it was wonderful that the community, as small as it is now, could manage to create this wonderful view. But, I now know, just as the Italians may have moved out and left but a few - about a 1000 - remaining, the prevailing Hispanic community is now an interested and devoted part of the Mt. Carmel community.

I walked through this green space. There are other places in Manhattan who have recovered vacant lots with a lot of energy and imagination, but this one seems blessed with just what your real estate agent would cite: location, location, and location. The residents also grow vegetables here, I believe.















I spotted two under a tree, involved in their own conversation, and not yet involved in the festivities that were just beginning. So, as long as people can find places and occasions to meet other people, and of course we think this city is so busy, loud, and crowded, don't you think there's always hope for the future?



And so I then walked across 115th Street - because, you know, I've never been to the church when people were in it - and I've never seen except on video what a true festival of the Giglio was. I walked up the steps of Our Lady of Mt. Carmel.

Yes! Something is indeed happening!

The church was full - the band was marching, and playing, and everyone was standing and taking pictures and talking - and the priest was in the procession too.

Everything was beginning!





The crowd proceeded behind the band to the steps and outside - I could feel the enthusiasm growing.







The ceremonial "collection/donation" figure was just outside the front, awaiting everyone. Notice the necklace of dollar bills descending from his neck!

Everything was about to begin. The musicians were descending the steps, and the Giglio Boys were beginning to mass together. One of them seemed really excited about the music - and I asked him if he was "ready?"





"I'm pumped! I've got this music on tape - I play it in my sleep!"

Yes, the First Lift is scheduled for 2 o'clock. What this means is that the Dance of the Giglio is actually a series of lifts - and bounces, or "dances" along the route from its location on Pleasant Avenue, to the front of the Church and back.


Now, everyone is here! See the brown-shirted "Giglio Boys"? They're just getting ready!
The Giglio itself is more than 65 feet high, and although made with paper mache it's not light by any means. It will take more than 100 men to lift it - and a leader, who rotates among the more veteran of the community from lift to lift - and to get it going in the right direction. And the band will be perched on it - and the singer will sing!

Now I know the picture looks a little crooked - but when you look closely, under the yellow-shirted singer and his band, you will see that they're yet to be lifted. The Giglio boys are but gathering around ... soon ... there will be the lift.

Right now the band is getting themselves comfortable ...

And as you can see, below left, some of the ah, bigger Giglio Boys are important when the lift finally happens!




The band and the singer begin their songs, and the lift progresses to the dance and it moves on toward the Church, where it all began.

But, not alone!




As you see below, one of the rotating leaders gives instructions, coordinating the lift, so that it just doesn't come plummeting down. Very very important position, a leader is ....








This isn't some "stock" photo. No, this is what this year's Giglio really looked like on August 9. In full lift, and moving - at times moving up and down, or "dancing" in joy - to and from the Church of Our Lady of Mt. Carmel.

Certainly quite a sight! And, don't forget, this was only the last day of a five day festival!

As I said, people come from miles around for this event. Even three generations of family - often bringing one who doesn't quite "get it," but, you know, it's "family."









So, for example, I met this family.

From left to right is Bill's grandmother, in her nineties, who used to live on E. 104th St.; Bill's wife and Bill; and Bill's mother. Bill Koldys lives in Connecticut but drove down on their way to, well, another venue for Sunday dinner.

But his grandmother was still angry with Vito Marcantonio, the Representative to congress from the 20th district of East Harlem, from about 1935 to 1950, not because he was a defender of communists but because she claimed he allowed the big tenements to be built between 1st and 2nd Avenues, and 112th and 115th Streets, which, as Jane Jacobs would tell you (in her book "The Death and Life of Great American Cities") did more to destroy neighborhoods.

In a very real, and unstated, and therefore unremembered way, the Dance of the Giglio in East Harlem on August 9th of this year was a kind of rememberance of Marcantonio, for it was on August 9th, 1954, upon exiting the subway at City Hall and Broadway, that Vito Marcantonio fell to the pavement, dead. In fact, Pleasant Avenue is called Vito Marcantonio Boulevard in some maps of East Harlem.

As I often say, Who knew?