WELCOME TO LOISAIDA

Introduction

Once upon a time, these bags were full of New York heroin. The drug was white, good and strong. Now, although the bags are empty, each one carries a stamp which summons up unique memories: of a vibrant and oppressed neighborhood; of artistic talents never seen or heard in any other context; of capitalism's entrepreneurial instinct in a caricatured form; at the same time, of a rebellion against capitalism; and, for better or worse, twenty-three years of my own life. Memories, in short, of an American dream and an American nightmare.

The bags will be presented here in the form of photographic reproductions, isolated in close-up, two or three to a page, or by the dozen. Seen in groups, they will be connected by aesthetic qualities, thematic contents, the dates on which they appeared, and the places where they were born, where people created them. Often, they will illustrate an idea expressed in the accompanying text.

Maps of New York City will add another graphic element to the book. We will follow the drug as individuals belonging to a diverse series of ethnic groups carry it from the suburbs (Brooklyn, The Bronx) to the Lower East Side (Manhattan). Finally, we will see the drug arriving in Loisaida and falling into the hands of Dominicans or Puerto Ricans. There will also be images representing places where the bags were purchased, allowing us to see how these places have changed over the years (it may be possible to add photos of these districts, and even of the dealers). These images will narrate the histories of communities wherein the black market profoundly influenced the daily lives of entire families (including grandmothers and children).

The text will transport us into a little-known world. We will learn whilst being moved by stories with an existential quality. There are four subjects I regard as essential to this work. Where should the emphasis be placed? That is a question which can only be answered in the course of a collaboration between an editor and myself. For the moment, here are the four main points I hope to cover.

Four subjects...

1 - My Personal Memories

I have spent twenty-three years of my life in this world. Despite living virtually everywhere, I always return to the Lower East Side. Over the years, I've had seven apartments (always in the same neighborhood), and been acquainted with more than two decades of this area's tumultuous history. My memories relate not only to my own experiences, but also to many other characters and events. Some of the stories I have to tell are about famous people - celebrities getting high in a crazy manner, or Geraldo Rivera sending head-hunters to the Lower East Side to find "interesting" addicts (especially pretty girls who might be persuaded to appear on his TV show in return for a fix). But there are also stories about unknown and forgotten people, such as my close friend Debby Melody Bell, a prostitute who died of AIDS. She lived with a very orthodox Jew, also a junkie. He was the one who infected her.

Obviously, after twenty-three years, I have some thoughts about all these stories...

2 - Historical

This district was one of New York's most legendary immigrant regions. Turbulent, insular, vivacious and poor, the Lower East Side is both the essence of America and not American at all. Rich speculators buy up all the neighboring districts, apartment by apartment, choking Loisaida from every side. The heart of the Lower East Side has always been somewhat scary for "Bohemians" or people from Uptown. The police, acting as the speculators' vanguard, have tried to clean up this image. For the population, it is a state of siege. My mother, who is seventy-two years old, is afraid of the cops, but not of the street-corner dealers who can protect her. Of course, these people don't want the things I am describing here to be happening in their neighborhood, and the culture they bring from their native countries teaches them to have respect for elderly people.

Now, as always on the Lower East Side (through 250 years and many ethnic groups), the black market is a way of life for the entire community. The young, the intelligent and the daring inevitably reject the McJobs available to them (if, indeed, those jobs are available). Instead of flipping burgers, a Hispanic will prefer to work for his Uncle Juan (or, more often than one might think, his Aunt Maria) in the 'bizniz'. He'll start by selling a few bags on street-corners and, if he does this well, will soon become a 'manager' of a 'spot'. By the time he's thirty, he'll either be rich or in prison. Like all middle-managers, he can also choose to play it safe and get a legitimate job which enables him to deal a little on the side (but not too much - just enough to support his family). It's the middle-class lifestyle in microcosm.

And all this happnes to a Salsa rhythm, accompanied by the taste of fried bananas. Loisaida is overflowing with hundreds of more or less wild cats, and eveyone helps to feed them. Some are even adopted by the owners of liquor stores (which is bad news for the rats).

3 - Aesthetic

It's hot. Six people sit around a long table wearing surgical masks (to prevent them falling asleep, like Dorothy and her friends on their way to the Emerald City). In the middle of the table - a mound of white powder. A young man, nineteen years old, is supervising.

First, an old woman stamps a small paper bag. An old man then puts some powder in the bag. To carry out this very precise job, he uses a little McDonalds spoon (for years, these spoons provided the best means of calculating the exact amount). The next person, another young man, folds the bag four times before giving it to his (pregnant) sister, who closes it with some scotch tape before passing it to someone who places it in a plastic bag which he seals with a heating device.

The stamp shows a bird flying (or perhaps beginning to fall - it's difficult to be certain which). Above this image are the words "No Joke". Who had the idea of combining that image with these words? The old woman, perhaps. Or the young man. It was made a few years ago. Now, one or both may be dead.

All that remains is the stamp. NO JOKE.

For many people of the Lower East Side, these stamps provide the sole means of artistic expression. When they create the stamps, they have the freedom to choose. The only criterion they consider is that of the black market. What is the best way to attract prospective customers? In general, the funnier, the better.

The stamps display black humor (Toilet, Tombstone, Overdose), sex (Rated X, Lady Love, Playboy), blatant sales pitches (Very Good, Good D, Strong Down), references to films and television shows (King of New York, Beetlejuice, L.A. Law), capitalist ambition (Benz, Calvin Klein, Rolls-Royce. After all, there's dope inside! The poor have the last laugh.)

Julian Schnabel offered me a lot of money for this collection of stamps, but I turned him down. He then tried to steal them. But in vain. (Poor thing. We women are hard.) I now want to publish them in an appropriate context. So there! (Long live Lézards...)

In any case, the stamps are very beautiful. A few are small masterpieces. Like graffiti and rap, they should be recognized as a genuine popular art. Thankfully, like other contemporary art-forms whose roots are in the street, they can be shown to the public. But, unlike those art-forms, they cannot be compromised or imitated, diluted or rendered anodyne. They are intrinsically subversive. And funny at the same time.

4 - Political

These stamps are the products of a pure and ferocious capitalistic ambition, the bourgeois market reproduced in flagrant caricature on the streets of the Lower East Side. In the same way, the illustrations display a rage against capitalism, more visceral than intellectual, rendered all the more ferocious by the desire to make a few bucks.

Like children, the people of Loisaida know who their enemies are. On the day to day level, the capitalists are represented by the police. Daily life is a painful and violent struggle.

The "War against Drugs" has served to give the American State a totally free hand which it uses to justify military intervention in Central America, Latin America, the Caribbean and throughout the Third World. This war is also fought against a 'Third World' that exists inside America itself, which is to say the Lower East Side and many similar places the state has in its rifle-sights.

It is in the 'Bizniz' that the young learn both who their enemies are and how they should be fought. They see their friends dying of AIDS, or disappearing after being hauled off by the cops. Inevitably, the dealers spend a certain amount of time in prison. As always, prison is the most efficient of political schools.

Every stamp is saturated in blood, sweat and tears. When I approached the dealers, the junkies, or even the cops, each one had a story to tell. "Look at this stamp. They guy who did it, do you know if he's dead? The guy who made this other stamp, he's in jail. The guy who made this red stamp, he became an informer. The guy who made this blue stamp went back to Puerto Rico. He kept all the money he made, and now he has twenty-four kids and lives like a king." Each stamp is physically bound to personal histories. And in Loisaida, the personal is always political.

The stamps demonstrate rage and rebellion, as well as that black humor which allows the people of Loisaida to survive in spite of everything.

Each day, cops and the real powers behind the scenes try to wipe out the stamps and every other manifestation of Loisaida's unique spirit. But in vain.

Conclusion

To this day, no other collection of stamps such as this exists, not even in the hands of a junkie or in a police dossier. This collection is, therefore, unique. In time, it will become part of a very important work.

I would be happy to provide additional information, or to answer any questions you might have.

Thank you.

You can contact me at the Hotel Reinitas by phoning 02 48 65 54 94.

Mlle. Zoë Lund.