Fedora Sign
As I mentioned yesterday, the new Fedora has a new neon sign. The old sign, rusted and hand-painted is gone. The new sign is a replica, a reasonable facsimile thereof, minus the rust, the dings, and the obvious brushstrokes of a long-ago hand. Thomas Rinaldi, author of a forthcoming book on neon signs in New York City, spotted the new sign and offers us a comparison with the old.
Old (on top) vs. new--click twice to enlarge
What made the old Fedora sign important to you, as a neon historian?
I've never been called a neon historian before, but if the shoe fits... There are a number of things that fascinate me about signs like the one that used to hang in front of Fedora. For one thing, they've become increasingly rare, especially as the city has changed so much in the last decade. For another, there's something almost miraculous that an object so fragile could survive so long in a relatively hostile environment, against the odds. Most of all, a good old sign usually indicates a good old business behind it, a place as seasoned by time as the weathered old sign out front--the kind of place that I, for one, really like to seek out.
Fedora's neon sign lasted at least 65 years or so (its exact provenance has eluded me, and I even asked Fedora herself). It was something of a living fossil. The original sign was hand painted on galvanized sheet metal, with a black background beneath a white border and white sans-serif letters, highly typical of many NY neon signs of the mid-1930s (like the sign for Rudy's Bar and Grill, installed in 1937). The slightly awkward kerning of the letters FEDORA and the placement of the electrode housings is the tip-off that this was almost certainly re-lettered (not unusual).
Old (on top) vs. new--click twice to enlarge
Kerning?
At risk of over-simplifying, kerning is a typographical term for the spacing between pairs of letters. A more thorough explanation on the subject can be found at ilovetypography.
In your opinion, how did the new owners do with the replication?
The replicated sign actually carries over the awkward kerning of the original--more than can be said of the hatchet job they did at the Film Center Cafe, which hardly counts as a replica. If the faces had been porcelain enamel, they could have been more easily installed over a new framework (like Let There Be Neon did with its first-class restoration of the Old Town Bar sign).
The new sign looks pretty good but it is completely without the patina of the old one. The same was done over at the Village Vanguard a few years ago.
Old sign lit
What would you have liked to see them do differently with the sign?
Who knows, maybe they moved the original indoors for safekeeping, Statue-of-David-style. Otherwise, seems to me they could have been able to reuse at least some of the original materials, certainly the neon tubes themselves--or fabricate the replica out of the same materials as the original.
The new sign is a thing entirely without the weathered character that the old sign had spent 60-odd years building up! And the new sign, though I wish it a long life, will not weather the way the old one did, because it's made out of different materials. Particularly in the context of what's happened with the restaurant itself, it makes for an interesting little case study in the value of patina and authenticity in the streetscape, no?
Old sign, neon tubing removed, awkward kerning
*UPDATE: Fedora's new owner writes in to explain the sign change: "We tried extremely hard to keep the old sign. In fact, we used the same company that has been servicing the sign for the last 40 years. We had them first come and attempt to just service the neon lights. However, once up there examining the sign they urged me to replace the entire sign. The old sign had suffered so much rust damage they informed me that it was at a major risk of falling apart in the near future. And that if I left it, it could potentially cause damage to the building or to a person if it fell. The rust was so extensive, one could push their finger with hardly any pressure through the sign and parts would flake off and crumble. We have saved the old sign and intend to use it somewhere, somehow."
Old (on top) vs. new--click twice to enlarge
What made the old Fedora sign important to you, as a neon historian?
I've never been called a neon historian before, but if the shoe fits... There are a number of things that fascinate me about signs like the one that used to hang in front of Fedora. For one thing, they've become increasingly rare, especially as the city has changed so much in the last decade. For another, there's something almost miraculous that an object so fragile could survive so long in a relatively hostile environment, against the odds. Most of all, a good old sign usually indicates a good old business behind it, a place as seasoned by time as the weathered old sign out front--the kind of place that I, for one, really like to seek out.
Fedora's neon sign lasted at least 65 years or so (its exact provenance has eluded me, and I even asked Fedora herself). It was something of a living fossil. The original sign was hand painted on galvanized sheet metal, with a black background beneath a white border and white sans-serif letters, highly typical of many NY neon signs of the mid-1930s (like the sign for Rudy's Bar and Grill, installed in 1937). The slightly awkward kerning of the letters FEDORA and the placement of the electrode housings is the tip-off that this was almost certainly re-lettered (not unusual).
Old (on top) vs. new--click twice to enlarge
Kerning?
At risk of over-simplifying, kerning is a typographical term for the spacing between pairs of letters. A more thorough explanation on the subject can be found at ilovetypography.
In your opinion, how did the new owners do with the replication?
The replicated sign actually carries over the awkward kerning of the original--more than can be said of the hatchet job they did at the Film Center Cafe, which hardly counts as a replica. If the faces had been porcelain enamel, they could have been more easily installed over a new framework (like Let There Be Neon did with its first-class restoration of the Old Town Bar sign).
The new sign looks pretty good but it is completely without the patina of the old one. The same was done over at the Village Vanguard a few years ago.
Old sign lit
What would you have liked to see them do differently with the sign?
Who knows, maybe they moved the original indoors for safekeeping, Statue-of-David-style. Otherwise, seems to me they could have been able to reuse at least some of the original materials, certainly the neon tubes themselves--or fabricate the replica out of the same materials as the original.
The new sign is a thing entirely without the weathered character that the old sign had spent 60-odd years building up! And the new sign, though I wish it a long life, will not weather the way the old one did, because it's made out of different materials. Particularly in the context of what's happened with the restaurant itself, it makes for an interesting little case study in the value of patina and authenticity in the streetscape, no?
Old sign, neon tubing removed, awkward kerning
*UPDATE: Fedora's new owner writes in to explain the sign change: "We tried extremely hard to keep the old sign. In fact, we used the same company that has been servicing the sign for the last 40 years. We had them first come and attempt to just service the neon lights. However, once up there examining the sign they urged me to replace the entire sign. The old sign had suffered so much rust damage they informed me that it was at a major risk of falling apart in the near future. And that if I left it, it could potentially cause damage to the building or to a person if it fell. The rust was so extensive, one could push their finger with hardly any pressure through the sign and parts would flake off and crumble. We have saved the old sign and intend to use it somewhere, somehow."
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