Oct 31

Oct 31 It's Halloween

Demonstrations, New York City, Protest, Public Declarations, Street Musician

“It’s Halloween
It’s Halloween
It’s time for scares
It’s time for screams
It’s Halloween
It’s Halloween

The ghosts will spook
The spooks will scare
Why, even Dracula will be there”

— The Shaggs, It's Halloween, from The Philosophy of the World (1969)

“There’s a Greta Garbo and an Alfred Hitchcock
And some black Jamaican stud
There’s five Cinderella’s and some leather drags
I almost fell into my mug
There’s a Crawford, Davis and a tacky Cary Grant
And some Homeboys lookin’ for trouble down here from the Bronx”

— Lou Reed, Halloween Parade, from New York (1989)

Think New Year’s Day, and Pasadena’s Rose Bowl Parade comes immediately to mind. Whenever I smell an aromatic turkey or apple pie, I recall the balloons floating down Broadway during the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day’s Parade. I used to watch both as a kid, as did so many others. Each spectacle served as a bookend to the holiday season. Macy’s signaled the coming Christmas Day presents, while the Rose Bowl Parade meant a return to school.

When it comes to Halloween, there is only one noteworthy parade: the Greenwich Village Halloween Parade that runs up Sixth Avenue, starting at Spring Street and heading a mile and half north to 16th Street. Like the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day and Rose Bowl Parades, it is televised, but only locally (NY1), which is too bad. Everyone should witness this crazy diamond.

Historical Backdrop. The parade started as a small neighborhood gathering back in 1974, when puppeteer Ralph Lee asked fellow puppeteers to entertain neighborhood children by going “house to house.” The following year, the event morphed into a more structured parade, with people gathering on Jane Street near the Hudson River, and then marching to Washington Square Park. By 1981, the parade attracted 100,000 spectators, and by 1985, the parade moved to its present route, with the crowd size growing to 250,000.

During the parade’s 49-year run, numerous organizations have acknowledged its importance as both a cultural iconic event and economic powerhouse. It has received an Obie Award, as well as two Lifetime Achievement Awards (1993 and 1997) from the National Endowment for the Arts. Both the New York Mayor’s Office and the Office of the Manhattan Borough President have acknowledged the parade’s importance to tourism by providing the parade with funding.

The organizers have used the parade to turn the focus on important events. Just seven weeks after 9/11, the parade defied the terrorists after then-Mayor Giuliani insisted that the show must go. The organizers created a gigantic Phoenix puppet to proclaim that New York City was rising from the ashes. The parade also paid homage to New Orleans in 2005 following Hurricane Katrina.

My First Parade. In 2009, I attended the parade during a photography workshop. To say it rained is an understatement. From start to finish, the gods sent a deluge of water down on the streets and performers. My images weren’t great, but I had a lot of fun despite being soaked through and through.

My Return This Year. This year rain was once again in the forecast. As a photographer, I had a far better mindset and skillset when it comes to bad weather. Now I view it as creating opportunities rather than hindrances, particularly with vastly improved equipment weather sealing. Let it rain—the water spots on my lenses create lens flare; the black asphalt will glisten; colorful umbrellas will open, and the performers will dance in and around the resulting puddles.

According to the parade organizers, up to two million people line the streets to watch as some 60,000 participants and performers—many in elaborate costumes—pass by. I always find attendance figures to be somewhat dubious, but I have no doubt that at least 60,000 performers passed me as I circulated within a three-block range anchored by Positively 4th Street. On the southwest corner there is the stone building (now Papaya Dogs) where I used to grab spaghetti dinners while an NYU student (across from the Washington Square Diner, where I consumed cheese omelettes for breakfast) . The Chase branch on the northeast corner lights the intersection, increasing the ambient light that better balances my flash.

The Parade. I was delighted when Freddy Krueger, Chucky, Dracula, Frankenstein, the Mummy, Gene Simmons and Paul Stanley (Kiss) imitators with tongues wagging, Little Red Riding Hood, Cinderella, the Great Pumpkin, Imperial Storm Troopers, Dorothy and the Scare Crow, and a host of other cultural icons marched past me. Nor was I surprised when Joe Biden, Richard Nixon, Ronald Reagan, and Donald Trump, or at least people wearing facsimile rubber masks, appeared without their Secret Service details.

Those participants were having lots of fun interacting with me, the crowd, and each other, but others took a more serious approach to their attire, designed to shine a light on cultural, social, and political issues. Somewhat surprisingly references to Covid were not evident (at least I saw none), but inflation, income inequality, civil rights, electoral participation, and war all were all on the agenda. Notably, the Rising Together Guerrilla Theater staged a production of Mother Earth vs. The War Machine, and the Raging Grannies brought attention to income inequality.

The parade’s website has a long list of performers, but as each group passed by me, the bands, floats, and costumed performers became a pulsating kaleidoscopic meld, infusing my eyes and ears with colorful sights and sounds. Of course, the dancing zombies led by Michael Jackson in his Thriller attire stood out, as did the Day of the Dead skeletons, the Fogo Azul NYC drum brigade, the Tilted Axes mobile guitar band, the Queer Big Apple Corps marching band, and the Ghostbuster vehicles.

But as usually is the case when I encounter groups—be they protesters, musicians, or people going about their business in a crowded city—I focus my photographic efforts on the individual rather than the group. Many of the participants, including the spectators, deserve kudos for their efforts. Some wore simple store-bought masks, but others went to great lengths with their makeup, hair stylings, and costumes, as is readily apparent from my images. Very much appreciated. And these folks do not just perform for the cameras. They interact with the crowd, particularly the kids.

Safety. Before heading to New York, a number of people asked whether the parade is a safe space. Possibly they asked because of the recent tragedy in South Korea, or because of the never-ending epidemic of gun violence that plagues the country. For several reasons, I never felt threatened or unsafe. First, and foremost, the crowd is in a celebratory mood. To outsiders, New York City and its residents are often viewed as distant and threatening. That’s never been my experience. People are always extremely friendly and helpful.

Second, the New York City Police are out in force. They line the parade route, with large groups stationed at each intersection. Dog units patrol the route, sniffing out explosives. Consistent with my recent experiences at various demonstrations, the police are both professional and friendly. I saw more than a few cops interacting with performers and spectators, but always with a watchful eye on the crowd. I suspect that the NYPD views the Halloween Parade as a great public relations opportunity, which is evident by the horse brigade as it stops along the route to allow the kids to pet the horses.

Third, while the parade is chaotic, the city imposes order through the now-familiar bicycle racks lining the route. Those racks started to appear on Saturday, with the entire parade route and surrounding streets lined with metal. The city crews don’t just dump those racks on the streets. They are locked together, which immobilizes the resulting structures. The system is designed to spread the crowd out, minimizing the likelihood of a deadly stampede. Nobody gets into the street without a police officer lifting one of the locked racks, and then pushing it slightly to create an opening.

As for my personal safety, like all the other participants, I had to take ownership of it. Large trucks pulled floats, batons twirled in the air, and many human obstacles lined Sixth Avenue, so everyone who is in the street must pay attention to their surroundings.

The Photographic Experience. Around 4 PM, I walked the three blocks from my hotel on Canal Street to Broome Street, where the performers assemble before the parade. Many pose for photographs.

After the darkness settled in, I walked the nine or ten blocks to Fourth Street, talking with other photographers, a television crew or two, and people in the crowd. Looking south, eventually I saw the lead car’s headlights headed my way. Wave after wave of floats, bands, and performers followed, as I moved against the flow, shuttling from side to side to improve my position. As the Beatles sang, once I got to the bottom (Third Street), I went back to the top (Waverly or Fourth Streets), beginning the cycle again.

This year, around 8:00 PM it started to rain. At one point, I turned to the CBS local reporter standing next to me to say, “When you get back to the station, you need to talk to the weatherman; this wasn’t supposed to start until 11:00 PM.” I got an approving laugh out of him. But as I have already noted, rain is great. The streets glistened as the light from the street lamps illuminated the wet pavement; my lens did have water spots; and the umbrellas opened. Of course the “raincoat” for my camera remained in the plastic bag; I had forgotten to open the thick plastic encasing the cover so I never used it. In the all excitement, I forgot to raise my rain slicker’s hood, so I had an early shower. None of this was a problem because the rain only lasted 20 or 30 minutes.

When the last performers had finally passed me, I was happily exhausted. Moving counter to the parade’s flow is a taxing experience, particularly when constantly jockeying for position and staying in front of the moving rope lines separating the photographers from the performers. Put simply, the parade is organized chaos.

Social Media’s Impact on Attention Spans. Regular readers know my beef with social media when it comes to demonstrations, rallies, marches, and parades. Too many participants undercut their message as they look down at their phones while participating in the event. Tonight was no different. One group marched in colorful costumes while protesting the Chinese autocracy. They were moving quickly, so I captured only three images, all including the most colorfully attired individual, holding a bullhorn. Unfortunately, he had his head down, presumably checking his Facebook feed. The message: “At the end of the day, I care more about some inane joke a friend posted than the invasion of Taiwan.” The same can be said about zombies on floats. It only takes one checking on Elon Musk’s latest tweet to kill the vibe. Put your phone in your pocket for two hours. All the stupidity will still be there after the parade comes to an end. I have similar feelings about participants taking smartphone photographs from floats. Doing so destroys the illusion.

Aside from those minor beefs, the parade lived up to my expectations. Next year’s parade is highly recommended. And if you do decide to attend, arrive a few days early. The Village and surrounding neighborhoods are decked out with pumpkins and skeletons, as costumed New Yorkers roam the streets looking for a beer, a slice of pizza, or a bowl filled with packets of Skittles, little Tootsies, or candy corn.

[Click on an Image to Enlarge It—Images Are Not in Strict Chronological Order]