The type of place where you can smell the history. The life and death that has occurred there is thick in the air, it envelops you and overwhelms you, the moment you step in. You hear the footsteps, the screams, the chandelier shaking above you. You see it hanging from the ceiling in the lobby, and it covers every inch of wall along the wrought iron stairwell.
Unlike most landmarks, its story continues to be written. It's the last Bohemia, an artist's colony, where not too long ago the owner accepted artwork as rent checks. It was within the humble walls of The Hotel Chelsea that Jack Kerouac wrote On the Road, and where Sid killed Nancy. Bob Dylan, Mark Twain, and Arthur Miller stayed and worked at the Hotel. Warhol shot his film "Chelsea Girls" there; his muse Edie Sedgwick was a resident, along with Nico. The list could go on to name some of the most influential and iconic artists of the legendary eras I can only dream about.
Imagine my amazement when the secrets of the interior of this notorious residence exceeded my grandoise expectations. The man who handed me my key said, quite nonchalantly, "You're going to like this room." And like it I did. It is rare to find a room in the city that you prefer to the streets. This room was rampant with energy; surprises in every corner. The fainting chair, the marble fireplace, the mirrored dressing screen, the vanity, all begged to be photographed. And this I did. Ironically, I did not learn that this room was the "most photographed hotel room in the city" until after I had obsessively photographed it. Perfectly sensical; it was as regal as the King's quarters at Versailles.
- Carly Pifer
- Born and raised under the Los Angeles sun and smog. At sixteen spent some time in LA County Juvenile Detention Center, although never really learned her lesson. Moved to Boston for the classic college experience. Spray painted graffiti in the Paris Metro during six month stay in the Marais. Survived an ultra fabulous and frightening internship at Vogue Magazine while living at a nunnery in Hell's Kitchen. Lived a year in Seoul, a city which can only be compared to a Disneyland theme park. Written four hundred sixty-four words of an undisclosed masterpiece novel. Currently pondering her next adventure and also the meaning of her memoirs from an artist's loft in dirty Brooklyn.