The Banquet Years: FOOD, a SoHo Restaurant in the Early 1970s by Lori Waxman

Posted August 05, 2010 by admin

The Banquet Years: FOOD, a SoHo Restaurant in the Early 1970s

by Lori Waxman

The following announcement appeared in the fall of 1971 in the vanguard art magazine Avalanche:

On Saturday, September 25, to mark the unofficial opening of Food, an artist-run restaurant at 127 Prince Street, free garlic soup, gumbo, chicken stew, wine, beer, and homemade breads were served to friends, gallery-goers, and passers-by until late in the evening.

So begins the very first published announcement for FOOD, the "restaurant commune" -- as it was called by restaurant reviewers for the New York Times and New York Magazine -- that in its heyday was one of the centers of life for a certain group of artists who called Manhattan's still-gritty SoHo their home.(1) Dozens of local sculptors, filmmakers, photographers, musicians, and dancers worked there -- variously as cooks, waitresses, or dishwashers -- glad to have a paying job flexible enough to allow them time to prepare for an exhibit or skip town for a gig, and still have a job afterwards. Many of them also ate there, partaking not only in fresh, homemade, relatively exotic, and very affordable dishes from a menu that changed daily, but also in a community of like-minded familiars who often exhibited together and collaborated on one another's projects.

SoHo circa 1971was very much a neighborhood under construction, existing in a transitional state between its former life as an industrial zone and its new one as the center of the avant-garde art world, which it would soon become. A few commercial galleries, namely Paula Cooper and Ivan Karp's O.K. Harris, had set up shop at the end of the sixties, to be joined soon thereafter by uptown dealers Leo Castelli and Andre Emmerich. Alternative spaces like Holly Solomon's 98 Greene Street loft, Alanna Heiss's Institute for Art and Urban Resources, Inc., Steina and Woody Vasulka's The Kitchen, and the Ward-Nasse co-op also opened during those first years. Empty buildings abounded, vacated by light-manufacturing companies wary of the proposed Lower Manhattan Expressway and the rampant fires that had earned the neighborhood the nickname "Hell's Hundred Acres." Lofts were thus plentiful and cheap, if of a sometimes extra-legal nature, and they provided ample raw space in which artists could live and create with few restrictions.(2) What SoHo lacked were some of the more basic amenities of urban residential existence -- grocery stores, schools, churches, libraries, pharmacies, and restaurants -- absences that followed logically enough from the fact that it had never before been a neighborhood where people lived, but rather one where people worked in blue-collar manufacturing jobs. Consequently, the few restaurants that did exist were luncheonettes that closed their doors at three in the afternoon, plus Fanelli's, a rough Italian bar at the corner of Mercer and Prince, which served "terrible" food, according to artist Robert Kushner's recollections. Personally, I think their burgers are pretty good.(3)

So when Gordon Matta-Clark suggested half-jokingly to Carol Goodden that she should open up a restaurant in SoHo, she did. And she asked him to collaborate on it with her. Goodden was a sometimes photographer and dancer with Trisha Brown's company; Matta (as he was then known) was a sculptor busy experimenting with the alchemical properties of fried photographs and agar agar-mixed media concoctions, and deconstructing the architectural integrity of the 112 Greene Street Workshop basement. Both were fond of throwing food parties, and their lofts (soon to be consolidated into one) were as full of communal gastronomy as were their friends'. Alan Saret, who helped found 112 Workshop -- one of the first artist-run spaces in Soho -- and went to Cornell with Matta, held regular Sunday night banquets at his place on Spring Street. The Louisiana expats who lived at 10 Chatham Square were famous for their Cajun specials. Even the Brooklyn Bridge Event, a 1971 group show organized by Alanna Heiss, concluded with Matta spit-roasting an entire pig over an open fire. Five hundred pork sandwiches were served -- though only after the pig had fallen into the fire the night before, and a group of friends had come down to ensure it cooked at least most of the way through.(4)

Completely taken with the idea of opening up a restaurant, Goodden bought out the lease of Comidas Criollas, a greasy spoon at the corner of Prince and Wooster Streets, and asked her friends sculptor Suzanne Harris and dancer Rachel Lew to participate.(5) Initially each agreed to put up one third of the starter money, but both Harris and Lew eventually pulled out financially -- Harris took off to hitchhike around the world(6) -- leaving Goodden to cover most of the bills from her inheritance. (Matta himself had no money, so she paid for them both). Goodden's inheritance would continue to support the restaurant -- and many of Matta's increasingly expensive projects -- for the next few years. Tina Girouard, an artist who was part of the 10 Chatham Square crowd, joined in, and the group spent the summer of 1971 demolishing the site and building it up from scratch, along with the help of Robert Prado, Richard Landry, Manfred Hecht, and a few other friends. Matta, who had studied architecture at Cornell, acted as general architect and contractor, drafting everything from the ground up -- including pots, dishes, and silverware that were never realized. The space was crafted based on personal aesthetics rather than practical ones: inventive wood cabinet "bins," tile floors, and an open kitchen "stage" would prove less than efficient and cost-effective in the day-to-day running of the restaurant.(7) So did irregular employee hours (kept flexible for artists and musicians) and a rotating menu (instituted in order to avoid the boredom of a regular menu).(8) But running a restaurant, at least in the narrow sense of a business whose product is the service of food, was not really the point.

SoHo, in the early seventies, was a haven for artists who had "dropped out" of the American middle-class, the world outside its dozen or so blocks, a world whose headlines announced: Stonewall. The Manson Murders. The Weathermen. The draft. Bombings in Cambodia. Kent State. Jackson State. Nixon. North of Houston Street was a bankrupt, conservative, paranoid Manhattan. South of Houston (from which the name "SoHo" derives) was a deserted island within an island whose inhabitants took the opportunity to reinvent what it meant to live in an urban environment -- and what it meant to make art. As Suzanne Harris once put it, "We didn't need the rest of the world. Rather than attacking a system that was already there, we chose to build a world of our own."(9)

The Black Power movement, the Women's movement, and the Gay Liberation movement offered paradigms for rethinking the most basic social and political systems not through rhetoric but through action.(10) Pluralist art making offered its own possibilities for social critique and reform, expressed through radical experimentation and the discovery of new forms; a breaking away from traditional object making, stylistic distinctions, and medium specificity; a rejection of the confines of the pristine white-walled gallery and the myth of the individual genius; and a fervent need to act, to do, to combine, to create. Robert Rauschenberg's "combine" paintings had long since moved off the wall and onto the floor. Trisha Brown's dancers scaled the exteriors of buildings and moved across rooftops. Robert Smithson partially buried a woodshed on the Kent State campus. Just as there was no longer any reason to separate sculpture from painting and dance, the boundaries between art and life and anything previously compartmentalized in those two categories dissipated. An artist's life was art just as an artist's art was life.

At its inception, FOOD was conceived as a collaborative enterprise that didn't care much about the enterprise end of things, as a restaurant that would nourish its employees and its customers with much more than just food. Matta thought of the entire adventure as an art piece that, once it was up and running, could be sold to dealer Leo Castelli.(11) How seriously he meant this is debatable; art historian Thomas Crow argues that, "it would stretch even the capacious aesthetics of the time to call FOOD a work of art in itself."(12) But a more generous definition of art might suit the aesthetics of the time even more or, better yet, a willingness to dispense with such limitations altogether.

FOOD did have its direct relationships with recognizable artworks: It was the subject of one of Matta's first films, the unfinished A Day in the Life of Food (1971-1973), which begins early in the morning at the Fulton Street Fish Market and finishes even earlier the next morning, with a boarder from Madbrook Farm, Vermont, baking the restaurant's fresh bread. Matta also made the first of his "cuttings," his radical means of redefining architectural space, while renovating the restaurant, later displaying wall and door sections at 112 Workshop alongside his Bronx Floors and Walls paper.(13)

The architecture of FOOD is a central clue to its larger role as "a work of art in itself." FOOD was designed as a stage, from its open kitchen to its long bank of windows, through which one could always watch the action, especially when the restaurant was lit up at night.(14) An open kitchen was unheard of at the time, a design notion borrowed from Mediterranean restaurants not Uptown ones, and it allowed desert-making to be seen from Prince Street as well as the front tables. A rotating roster of chefs -- Mabou Mines one night, Philip Glass's ensemble on another, vegetarian dancers on a third -- performed at their centrally located stove and prep tables for an audience of diners. Even the dishwasher was deliberately sited within the space.

Sunday nights were guest chef dinners, and while some cooked up straightforward, edible fare -- Robert Rauschenburg legendarily served homemade chili(15) (and this may in fact be just legend, since Carol Gooden remembers no such thing) -- others took a more experimental approach. One Matta meal included hard-boiled eggs hollowed out and filled with live brine shrimp. The "Matta Bones" dinner, which cost four dollars, featured oxtail soup, marrow bones, stuffed bones, frog legs provençale, and pot roast bones; after dinner, Hisachika Takahashi drilled holes through the bones and strung them together, so that diners could wear their leftovers home.(16) On another occasion, Takahashi crafted beautiful paintings out of food plates. Mark di Suvero proposed -- but never realized -- a sculptor's dinner to be served through the front windows by crane and eaten with screwdrivers, hammers, and chisels.(17) Other guest chefs included Michael Goldberg, Donald Judd, Richard Landry, Italo Scanga, Keith Sonnier, Joan Shapiro, and Yvonne Rainer.(18)

The broadest reaches of FOOD as a space for creative practice can perhaps be further understood through the context of the Women's Movement. Proclaiming "the personal is the political," feminist artists like Carolee Schneeman and Judy Chicago explored how such quotidian aspects of their lives as menses and childbirth could be legitimate subjects for art. The trickle-down of that radical notion meant that all aspects of one's life could be part of the creative process; it doesn't seem too much of a stretch, given the times, to extend that to a restaurant run by artists for artists, a place whose original goals, as expressed by Carol Goodden, were not to function as a profitable business but rather to display cooking bravado, to create a sympathetic place for friends to meet and eat, and to provide artists with a flexible working environment.(19) If FOOD still doesn't seem to fit the definition of capital "A" art, I say lose the capital. So Castelli didn't buy it. The early years of SoHo and 112 Workshop proved that anything could be art and that the process often mattered more than the end product -- regardless of whether or not it sold, or was even saleable.

FOOD also published a string of inventive advertisements in the aforementioned Avalanche, a magazine owned and edited by friends Liza Béar and Willoughby Sharp. Avalanche was dedicated to the radical conceptual art being made not only throughout the world but also very much by the artists who lived and worked around 112 and FOOD.(20) The ads were projects in and of themselves and were likely ad-hoc and collaborative. A photo by Richard Landry forms the backdrop for the first ad, which appeared in the Fall 1971 issue: Tina Girouard, Matta, and Goodden stand outside the as-yet-unrenovated restaurant, below the original sign for Comidas Criollas, which, in the ad, has been scrawled over in thick marker with the word "FOOD." The next ad, published in the Spring 1972 issue, was the creation of Girouard, Goodden, Matta, and editor Liza Béar.(21) "Food's Family Fiscal Facts" detailed not only the restaurant's financial state (in which the total running costs magically equaled total income, to the penny) but also a fantastical accounting of dozens of other kinds of consumption and activity: 379 lbs of rabbits stewed, 4,081 chickens succumbed, 220 bunches of parsley sprinkled delicately, 47 dogs asked to leave, 3 unfulfilled promises by good friends, 2 rebellions, and an unspecified amount of brandied people as opposed to pears. At the bottom of the page, an untitled paragraph of over one hundred names lists FOOD's big "family."

The first few names in the "family" list are easy to place: Carol Goodden, Tina Girouard, Gordon Matta, Suzanne Harris, and Rachel Lew -- the official founders. Here's Robert Prado, a musician with the Phil Glass ensemble who was one of the first chefs, a maker of super Cajun gumbos and the person who taught everyone how to eat crabs right -- by dumping them out, cooked, onto newspaper covered tables. And Richard Peck, also part of the Glass ensemble, worked as a dishwasher. Over there some guest chef names pop up. But soon the list gets hazy and very, very long. Who were all these people and what was their relationship to FOOD? Incredibly, they all worked at the restaurant,(22) but who exactly did what is to some extent beside the point. The essence of this list is that a whole lot of people were involved in FOOD one way or another, whatever the specifics of their participation, whether it was chopping, cooking, washing, eating, selling, paying, sitting, talking, filming, or picture taking. FOOD would not have existed without all of them. It existed for them: the people who came up with the idea, the ones who put it into play, those who worked daily to keep it functioning, and those who depended on it for social, gastronomic, or financial sustenance -- roles which often overlapped.

FOOD's communal nature stemmed from an essentially generous spirit, a non-cynical way of being in the world that found expression throughout SoHo at the time. Its nearest neighbors exemplified that essence: 112 Workshop operated as a free-wheeling creative space, free for the kind of experimentation that could hardly happen elsewhere, in a building artist Jeffrey Lew owned and opened up to like-minded artists in 1970. Collectors Holly and Horace Solomon facilitated their 98 Greene Street loft to, in their words, "allow artists and poets and performers to do their work, and have it be seen. The space was given to them and they could do with it what they wanted."(23) They, like many others, were propelled by a kind of oppositional urgency, a need to make a positive gesture that would help create the kind of environment worth living in. As Holly Solomon further explained, "It was a time of great distress when everything seemed to be falling apart, and for Horace and me opening the space was a political statement. We felt that we couldn't change the world, but that privately we could do something."(24)

But not all communal spirits are created equally. At the same time that FOOD can't be reduced to any one person, it would be disingenuous to ignore the importance of certain individuals. Fundamentally, FOOD was an idea sparked by Gordon Matta and nurtured, financed, and overseen by Carol Goodden. Tina Girouard helped build it and was initially responsible for personnel, remaining active for the first year or so and reappearing now and again to cook up Cajun dishes. Rachel Lew and Suzanne Harris, who were responsible for procurement, pulled out almost immediately -- though both spent hours peeling garlic for the opening day soup. FOOD was conceived as a communal idea, but in the end most of the work fell on the shoulders of a very few people. Matta, according to Gooden, "was the charisma that made it work as well as it did," "the eye of the hurricane," but she ended up responsible for its day-to-day existence.(25) It was a mom-and-pop operation, and Gooden was both mom and pop -- she got the call if the toilet was blocked or a delivery was late -- a banal reality hardly borne out by the small body of literature that treats FOOD.

In part, this oversight can be attributed to FOOD's self-projected image as a collective entity, of which the ads in Avalanche played an important role. It follows naturally from the fact that so many different people were of necessity involved in the day-to-day activity of running the restaurant. But it is also very much a product of the art world's particular kind of memory, of the need for a celebrated artist like Gordon Matta-Clark (as he is known today) on which to hang an otherwise obscure, hard to categorize project like FOOD. The main locale for writings about FOOD are monographs devoted to Matta-Clark, where it is treated as one among a resumé of ambitious projects completed in his short career; Carol Goodden is the primary source cited within those texts. The one exception to this rule is the catalogue for FOOD: An exhibition by White Columns, New York, curated by Catherine Morris in 1999. But even there, an entire chapter is devoted to the food art of Matta-Clark. Artworks by the other founders or workers rate little mention, unless they appeared in a group show alongside Matta-Clark's. This is not to deny the importance of Matta-Clark's work nor the fundamental role he played in the inception and spirit of FOOD, but it begs the question: If interest in his work hadn't continued to grow after his early death from cancer in 1978, would any scholarly attention have been given to FOOD at all? Or would it have just disappeared along with the memories of many other, less famous individuals who were part of it, Carol Goodden included? A few ads in a defunct avant-garde magazine and a restaurant review or two might constitute its sole remains.

FOOD continued to exist in name through the late seventies and possibly even into the early eighties, but only its first two years of existence are ever discussed. The dates of Matta's film A Day in the Life of FOOD, 1971 to 1973, roughly correspond to that period, a period in which the initial founders and friends remained more or less active participants and the restaurant stayed true to its art-life principles. But by the fall of 1972, Matta had begun to lose interest, if not in the concept of FOOD than in the actual running of it, coming by only to hang out, rarely attending meetings.(26) Sunday night guest chef dinners petered out. Goodden had by this time hired Robert Kushner, a 24-year-old artist newly arrived from Boston, to work as a dessert chef; a few months later he became assistant manager and then acting manager, a position he held through 1973. As Kushner tells it, they were serving at full capacity but still losing money. With the help of some "creative accounting" and a less artistic hiring policy, the restaurant broke even for the first time.(27) Food began to be just a restaurant. The shop next door was acquired for extra seating. SoHo became a popular destination for gallery-goers and tourists. The restaurant closed on Sundays, which, perhaps not incidentally, was a day when galleries also closed. In a 1975 New York Times article titled "SoHo Grows Up and Grows Rich and Chic," the writer could sniff,

"The artist's collective restaurant at Prince and Wooster, called FOOD, now turns out crispy little salads and crepes instead of ladling out thickened okra broth and mashed eggplant. Few artists eat there because it is less affordable than when it opened three years ago."(28)

Somewhere along the way, Matta and Goodden both dropped out, as did most of their friends. FOOD had become a legitimate business, a triumph by some measure but not theirs. As Goodden recalls:

"I did not like cringing when the busboy dropped the tray of glasses, because I knew what that would cost and margins were slim. I did not like being exasperated when the vegetable delivery would not show up. I was irritable going to the fish market at 4 a.m. and fighting for decent fish at decent prices. It had ceased to be an 'adventure.' I had no time to spend on my photography, was almost too tired to dance with the Trisha Brown Dance Company..."(29)

Goodden tried to sell FOOD, but there were no takers. She offered to pass it on to Kushner, with the stipulation that she be able to eat and entertain occasionally, but he was burnt out from his managerial duties and refused -- plus his work had started to sell and he wanted to concentrate on art making. She ended up giving it to an English woman named Ruby, a non-artist who had been waitressing at the restaurant and showed some managerial abilities. When Ruby skipped town less than a year later, leaving a few months of unpaid bills and rent in her wake, it was the end of an era that was already on its way out.

Did FOOD become a business because Matta, Girouard, Harris, and finally Goodden left? Or did they leave because it was becoming a business? The answer likely lies somewhere in between. To put it another way, how does an idealistic enterprise survive the departure of the founders who charmed it into being in the first place? Alternately, can such an endeavor survive their continued presence? Speaking of 112 Workshop, which eventually became White Columns, New York's oldest artist-run space (and the location for FOOD: An Exhibition in 1999), founder Jeffrey Lew recalled, "Something special happened during the first three years, and after we got the grants it didn't happen anymore."(30) Accountability -- more often than not assumed due to the acquisition of money, be it from grants or outright profit -- invariably alters the dynamics of a spirited adventure, for better or worse. Other factors must have also been felt: many of the original 112 and FOOD artists had begun to show in commercial galleries, and burgeoning art careers took them off the Europe and other places far from SoHo. Priorities, responsibilities, and needs changed. So did the neighborhood, which became increasingly dotted with galleries, restaurants, and shops, including the Spring Street Bar, Kenn & Bob's Broome Street Bar, and the gourmet market Dean & Deluca, to name some of the earliest infusions -- all of them still around. Surrounded by so much business, FOOD couldn't continue except as a business. And so it did, for some time. But without the collective energy and intentions of its founders, whose ad in the Fall 1972 issue of Avalanche wondrously proclaimed:


EAT FOOD 127 PRINCE 260-3730

To which I most sincerely add: Rest in peace.


"Rumbles." Avalanche 3 (Fall 1971).

Alternatives in Retrospect: An Historical Overview, 1969-1975: Gain Ground, Apple, 98 Greene Street Workshop, 10 Bleeker Street, Idea Warehouse, 3 Mercer. Curated by Jacki Apple and with an essay by Mary Delahoyd. New York: New Museum, 1981.

Avalanche magazine advertisements: Fall 1971, Spring 1972, Summer 1972, Fall 1972, Winter/Spring 1973.

Glaser, Milton and Jerome Snyder. "The Underground Gourmet: Food, Glorious Food." New York Magazine, January 3, 1972: 65.

Gordon Matta-Clark. Antwerp: International Cultureen Centrum, 1977.

Gordon Matta-Clark. Edited by Corinne Diserens. With essays by Thomas Crow, Judith Russi Kirshner, and Christian Kravagna. London and New York: Phaidon, 2003.

Gordon Matta-Clark. Valencia: IVAM Centre Julio Gonzalez, 1992.

Jacob, Mary Jane, ed. Gordon Matta-Clark: A Retrospective. With an essay by Robert Pincus-Whitten and interviews by Joan Simon. Chicago: Museum of Contemporary Art, 1985.

Kostelanetz, Richard. Soho: The Rise and Fall of an Artists' Colony. New York and London: Routledge, 2003.

Le Feuvre, Lisa. "Avalanche." Art Monthly no 278 (July/August 2004).

Lee, Pamela. Object To Be Destroyed: The Work of Gordon Matta-Clark. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press, 2000.

Matta-Clark, Gordon. Food or A Day in the Life of Food. Unfinished black-and-white video. 43 minutes. Originally 16 mm film. Sound by Robert Frank. Distributed by Electronic Arts Intermix.

Matta-Clark, Gordon. Partially catalogued archives. Canadian Center for Architecture, Montreal.

Moore, Alan W. Collectivities: Protest, Counter-Culture and Political Postmodernism in New York City Artists Organizations 1969-1985. Ph.D. dissertation. City University of New York, 2000.

Morris, Catherine. Food: An Exhibition by White Columns, New York. Münster: Westfälisches Landesmuseum für Kunst und Kultergeschichte, 1999.

Muschamp, Herbert. "Thought For Food." Artforum (May 1998): 12-13.

Smith, Roberta. "Food: review." New York Times (February 6, 1998): E36.


(1) Food was referred to as a "restaurant commune" in Milton Glaser and Jerome Snyder, "The Underground Gourmet: Food, Glorious Food," New York Magazine (January 3, 1972): 65; and Fred Ferretti, "SoHo Grows Up and Grows Rich and Chic," New York Times (21 October 1975): 184. The title of this essay is borrowed from Roger Shattuck's seminal 1958 book, The Banquet Years: The Arts in France, 1885-1918: Alfred Jarry, Henri Rousseau, Erik Satie, Guillaume Apollinaire, which was standard reading material for the FOOD generation, according to Tina Girouard (telephone interview with the author, December 15, 2004).

(2) The story of the SoHo loft moves from deindustrialisation, to the Artists Tenant Association petitions for the right to occupy non-residential buildings, to Fluxus pope George Maciunas's creation of the first the current going price of a few million dollars. See Richard Kostelanetz, SoHo: The Rise and Fall of an Artists' Colony (New York and London: Routledge, 2003).

(3) Robert Kushner, who worked at FOOD for two years beginning in 1972, including a stint as manager, offered this assessment of Fanelli's during an interview with the author on October 15, 2004. Now a SoHo classic, Fanelli's still stands at the corner of Mercer and Prince Streets, and the burgers are actually pretty good.

(4) Girouard.

(5) The story of the genesis of FOOD is told more or less than the same in most published accounts, most of which are drawn from Carol Goodden's recollections. Unless otherwise noted, details about the beginnings of the restaurant are taken from an email Goodden (now McCoy) wrote to the author, December 6, 2004.

(6) Girouard.

(7) Girouard.

(8) Girouard; Goodden.

(9) Alan W. Moore, Collectivities: Protest, Counter-Culture and Political Postmodernism in New York City Artists Organizations 1969-1985, Ph.D. diss. (City University of New York, 2000), 47.

(10) Robert Pincus Witten, "Gordon Matta-Clark: Art in the Interrogative," in Mary Jane Jacob, ed., Gordon Matta-Clark: A Retrospective (Chicago: Museum of Contemporary Art, 1985), 14-15.

(11) Goodden.

(12) Thomas Crow, "Gorden Matta-Clark: Survey," in Gordon Matt-Clark (London and New York: Phaidon, 2003), 44.

(13) Gordon Matta-Clark interviewed in Gordon Matta-Clark (Antwerp: International Cultureen Centrum, 1977), 8; Catherine Morris, FOOD: An exhibition by White Columns, New York (Münster: Westfälisches Landesmuseum für Kunst und Kulturgeschichte, 1999), 36.

(14) Girouard.

(15) Jacob, 38.

(16) Carol Goodden quoted in Morris, 29.

(17) Carol Goodden quoted in Gordon Matta-Clark (Valencia: IVAM Centre Julio Gonzalez, 1992), 370; Alanna Heiss quoted in Morris, 29.

(18) The list of guest chefs is hard to confirm and is here compiled mainly from Jacob, 38. Yvonne Rainer's name was provided by Girouard; Gooden does not recall her participation.

(19) Carol Goodden quoted in Morris, 46-47.

(20) Lisa Le Feuvre, "Avalanche," Art Monthly no 278 (July/August 2004): n.p.

(21) Morris, 33.

(22) Gooden, email to the author, January 9, 2005.

(23) Holly Solomon, "98 Greene Street," in Alternatives in Retrospect: An Historical Overview, 1969-1975 (New York: New Museum, 1981), 28.

(24) Ibid.

(25) Carol Goodden, email to the author, December 11, 2004. Goodden's point is backed up by Kushner and Girouard.

(26) The following account of FOOD's transformation and demise is pieced together from the accounts of both Kushner and Goodden, December 6, 2004.

(27) Kushner.

(28) Ferretti, 184

(29) Gooden, December 6, 2004

(30) Quoted in Alternatives, 34.