By DOUGLAS MARTIN
NY TIMES
Andy Kessler, who banded with graffiti artists to help give a distinctively New York spin to the nascent sport of skateboarding and then helped popularize it by designing skate parks, died on Monday near Montauk, N.Y. He was 48.
His sister, Jody Kessler, said he was stung by an insect while surfing off Montauk, had an extreme allergic reaction and suffered cardiac arrest.
Mr. Kessler was an early New York hero of skateboarding, a sport that probably began in California after World War II, when surfers looked for something to do when the waves were flat. It started to catch on in the early 1970s when boards were made with polyurethane wheels, improving traction. When, during droughts, local authorities prohibited the owners of swimming pools from filling them, skateboarders could not resist turning the steep concrete caverns into skating courses.
A little later in the 1970s, the sport tiptoed into New York. Its first adherents were a loose-knit community of skateboarders and graffiti artists known as the Soul Artists of Zoo York. The renegade image developed by California skateboarders using empty swimming pools was more than maintained by New Yorkers, who illegally spray-painted subway trains.
The alliance between skateboarders and graffiti artists was not declared, and in fact first involved two separate groups. But famous graffiti artists like Zephyr also skateboarded; another, ALI, coined the name Zoo York. Not a few youngsters were involved in both activities.
In an article about the scene in 2005, New York magazine called Mr. Kessler “its most prominent rider,” though others might have had at least equal skill.
Seth Affoumado, who skated with Mr. Kessler when almost nobody else was pursuing the sport, said in an interview on Wednesday that Mr. Kessler was “the catalyst for skateboarding in New York City.”
Glen E. Friedman, a photographer who has extensively covered skateboarding, said, “He pursued making it something important in New York City.”
But New York skateboarding was never as important in either sport or cultural terms as it was in California, where scrappy, expert skateboarders like Jay Adams and Tony Alva created a style, ultimately a legend, that came to be called Dogtown. Significantly, when such West Coast luminaries came East, it was Mr. Kessler they sought out, Mr. Friedman said. Many plan to attend his funeral.
Andrew Kessler, who was adopted with his sister in Greece, was born in Athens on June 11, 1961. His mother, Ruth, said he asked for a skateboard for his birthday and other gift-giving occasions without fail. She said that she bought him his first when he was 10, and that she gave him at least 50 over time.
“I just remember him always being on a skateboard,” his sister said.
New York magazine said that the loose-knit Zoo York collective skated all over the Upper West Side, where Mr. Kessler grew up. He and a group of youths of various races and income levels pioneered the art of city skating, grinding their axles on flower planters and attempting a complete spin, or a 360.
They particularly liked to skate around the band shell in Central Park, and in the winter would shovel out swimming pools in Brooklyn. They first skated on ramps specifically built for skateboarding in 1976 on Long Island.
Mr. Affoumado said the youths were very conscious of building a new kind of culture, one combining graffiti, skateboarding and hip-hop. “We all dabbled in art,” he said. “We all dabbled in music. We all dabbled in drugs.”
By the early 1980s, the Soul Artists of Zoo York were disbanding, even as the Dogtown riders were becoming professionals and starting companies. For five years, Mr. Kessler worked in fields as diverse as flea markets and massage therapy.
He became seriously caught up in drugs, including heroin. He recovered with the help of Narcotics Anonymous, his friends said, and afterward was dedicated to helping youthful addicts.
Mr. Kessler long nurtured an ambition to build a park for skateboarders and roller-bladers, and in the mid-1990s he proposed the idea of building one in Riverside Park, near where he grew up. The New York City parks department accepted the idea, and Mr. Kessler recruited a group of disadvantaged youths to build it. He later built more parks on Long Island and elsewhere.
Mr. Kessler is survived by his mother and sister.
In 2005, he fell while skating and incurred a $20,000 medical bill. He had no insurance, so friends held a benefit in SoHo to pay for his treatment.
In a 1999 interview conducted by Masha Falkov, a high school student, that was posted on the Internet, Mr. Kessler related what he would want God to say to him at the Pearly Gates: “You’ve done a good job, but you left a few things out, so we’re sending you back.”
NY TIMESAndy Kessler, who banded with graffiti artists to help give a distinctively New York spin to the nascent sport of skateboarding and then helped popularize it by designing skate parks, died on Monday near Montauk, N.Y. He was 48.
His sister, Jody Kessler, said he was stung by an insect while surfing off Montauk, had an extreme allergic reaction and suffered cardiac arrest.
Mr. Kessler was an early New York hero of skateboarding, a sport that probably began in California after World War II, when surfers looked for something to do when the waves were flat. It started to catch on in the early 1970s when boards were made with polyurethane wheels, improving traction. When, during droughts, local authorities prohibited the owners of swimming pools from filling them, skateboarders could not resist turning the steep concrete caverns into skating courses.
A little later in the 1970s, the sport tiptoed into New York. Its first adherents were a loose-knit community of skateboarders and graffiti artists known as the Soul Artists of Zoo York. The renegade image developed by California skateboarders using empty swimming pools was more than maintained by New Yorkers, who illegally spray-painted subway trains.
The alliance between skateboarders and graffiti artists was not declared, and in fact first involved two separate groups. But famous graffiti artists like Zephyr also skateboarded; another, ALI, coined the name Zoo York. Not a few youngsters were involved in both activities.
In an article about the scene in 2005, New York magazine called Mr. Kessler “its most prominent rider,” though others might have had at least equal skill.
Seth Affoumado, who skated with Mr. Kessler when almost nobody else was pursuing the sport, said in an interview on Wednesday that Mr. Kessler was “the catalyst for skateboarding in New York City.”
Glen E. Friedman, a photographer who has extensively covered skateboarding, said, “He pursued making it something important in New York City.”
But New York skateboarding was never as important in either sport or cultural terms as it was in California, where scrappy, expert skateboarders like Jay Adams and Tony Alva created a style, ultimately a legend, that came to be called Dogtown. Significantly, when such West Coast luminaries came East, it was Mr. Kessler they sought out, Mr. Friedman said. Many plan to attend his funeral.
Andrew Kessler, who was adopted with his sister in Greece, was born in Athens on June 11, 1961. His mother, Ruth, said he asked for a skateboard for his birthday and other gift-giving occasions without fail. She said that she bought him his first when he was 10, and that she gave him at least 50 over time.
“I just remember him always being on a skateboard,” his sister said.
New York magazine said that the loose-knit Zoo York collective skated all over the Upper West Side, where Mr. Kessler grew up. He and a group of youths of various races and income levels pioneered the art of city skating, grinding their axles on flower planters and attempting a complete spin, or a 360.
They particularly liked to skate around the band shell in Central Park, and in the winter would shovel out swimming pools in Brooklyn. They first skated on ramps specifically built for skateboarding in 1976 on Long Island.
Mr. Affoumado said the youths were very conscious of building a new kind of culture, one combining graffiti, skateboarding and hip-hop. “We all dabbled in art,” he said. “We all dabbled in music. We all dabbled in drugs.”
By the early 1980s, the Soul Artists of Zoo York were disbanding, even as the Dogtown riders were becoming professionals and starting companies. For five years, Mr. Kessler worked in fields as diverse as flea markets and massage therapy.
He became seriously caught up in drugs, including heroin. He recovered with the help of Narcotics Anonymous, his friends said, and afterward was dedicated to helping youthful addicts.
Mr. Kessler long nurtured an ambition to build a park for skateboarders and roller-bladers, and in the mid-1990s he proposed the idea of building one in Riverside Park, near where he grew up. The New York City parks department accepted the idea, and Mr. Kessler recruited a group of disadvantaged youths to build it. He later built more parks on Long Island and elsewhere.
Mr. Kessler is survived by his mother and sister.
In 2005, he fell while skating and incurred a $20,000 medical bill. He had no insurance, so friends held a benefit in SoHo to pay for his treatment.
In a 1999 interview conducted by Masha Falkov, a high school student, that was posted on the Internet, Mr. Kessler related what he would want God to say to him at the Pearly Gates: “You’ve done a good job, but you left a few things out, so we’re sending you back.”
No comments:
Post a Comment