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    The Night New York's Theaters, Museums and Concert Halls Shut Down

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    #masthead-section-label, #masthead-bar-one { display: none }At HomeFall in Love: With TenorsConsider: Miniature GroceriesSpend 24 Hours: With Andra DayGet: A Wildlife CameraAdvertisementContinue reading the main storySupported byContinue reading the main storyMarch 12, 2020: The Night the City Sighed to SleepChocolate fountains, Debbie Harry and an artist’s swan song cut short. We gathered scenes from the New York City cultural landscape in the last moments before lockdown.The view from Sardi’s on March 12, 2020, as Broadway and much of New York locked down.Credit…Spencer Platt/Getty ImagesMichael Paulson, Julia Jacobs and March 11, 2021, 5:00 a.m. ETMarch began with an ominous drumbeat. A packed cruise ship with a coronavirus outbreak was left floating for days off the coast of California. South by Southwest was canceled. The N.B.A. suspended its season. And then, on March 12, Broadway shut down, and with it every large gathering in New York City.By the time the grates came down, it was not much of a surprise. The city that never sleeps was grinding to a halt.But it was impossible to imagine what was to come. The staggering death toll. The vast job losses. The isolation. The endlessness.That evening, a group of Broadway bigwigs — theater owners and producers, mostly — gathered to drown their sorrows at Sardi’s, the industry hangout famous for its celebrity caricatures. They noshed, they drank, they commiserated, and they hugged. Several of them wound up infected with the virus, although there were so many meetings, and so few masks at that point, who knows how they got it.They posted signs on their theaters saying they expected to be back four weeks later.Now it’s been 52.Do you remember your final nights out? We gathered scenes from around the city as the curtains closed. MICHAEL PAULSONFondue Fountains, Buckets of Bouquets and Fresh DolceThe dressing rooms at the Brooks Atkinson Theater were filled with flowers. The ruby chocolate fondue fountain was booked for the after-party. Brittney Mack’s mother and her brother and her best girlfriends had all flown into town, not about to miss the moment when the 30-something Chicagoan made her long-awaited Broadway debut as a 16th-century English queen.But it was not to be. Ninety minutes before the scheduled opening of “Six,” an eagerly anticipated new musical about the wives of King Henry VIII, Broadway shut down.“I got to the theater early, and there were gifts from all over — buckets and buckets of plants, and cookies, and so much love, and I was like, ‘Hell, yes,’” Mack recalled. “And then the assistant stage manager came in and said the show is canceled, and I just said, ‘How dare you!’”Credit…Lucas McMahon“It was very, very overwhelming, and all of a sudden I felt incredibly alone. And then I was like, ‘But my dress! And the earrings!’ So many perspectives hit me, and I realized this happened to our entire industry, and I thought, ‘What the hell are we all going to do?’”What most of the “Six” family did was to gather. Mack went out for drinks with her friends at Harlem Public, near her apartment. Meanwhile, the show’s producer, Kevin McCollum, fresh off canceling an 800-person opening night party at Tao Downtown, hosted about 100 members of the show’s inner circle at the Glass House Tavern, a few doors down from the theater.“Looking back, it was ridiculous that we did that, but we didn’t know what we didn’t know, so we had a buffet of crudités, and a host of droplets, I’m sure,” he said. “We were in shock. There were people crying. We were giving it our best stiff upper lip, for the British, but we were emotionally devastated.”The notice posted on the doors of the Brooks Atkinson Theater, home to the Broadway production of “Six.”Credit…Lucas McMahonBundled playbills that would have been distributed to the sold-out audience.Credit…Lucas McMahonGeorge Stiles, an English composer, was among many British friends of the show who had flown over for the opening. Stiles was once in a band with the father of Toby Marlow, who wrote “Six” with Lucy Moss, and had become a mentor and then a co-producer.“Never before has something that I’ve been involved with felt so poised to go off with a crack,” Stiles said of “Six” — quite a statement given that he wrote songs for the stage musical adaptation of “Mary Poppins.” “I was anticipating the euphoria of the crowd, and the fun of the red carpet-y nonsense, and the everyone wanting to be the last one to sit down.”Instead, he and his husband and Marlow’s father licked their wounds at Marseille. What was on the menu? “The sheer awfulness of being this close to a wonderful Broadway run.” Stiles has since put his “suitably regal” gold and black Dolce & Gabbana outfit “into very careful mothballs,” anticipating that there will yet be an opening night to celebrate. “We are very gung-ho,” he said, “and hopeful, fingers crossed, that it wont be too many months away.” PAULSON“We Love You, New York! Don’t Touch Your Face!”Only about half of the people who bought tickets to the March 12 show at Mercury Lounge had turned up, but there were still throngs of people drinking, talking and grooving to the band. Debbie Harry of the band Blondie was there, and so was the music producer Hal Willner. He would die less than a month later from Covid-19.Onstage, Michael C. Hall, the star of “Dexter” and lead singer of the glam rock band Princess Goes to the Butterfly Museum, belted and wailed into the microphone.The staff members at Mercury Lounge knew they were watching their last live concert for a while; what “a while” meant, they had no idea. Bands had been canceling their appearances at an increasing rate, and on a call earlier that day, the owners had asked the staff members if they were still comfortable working, said Maggie Wrigley, a club manager. The line was silent for a moment, before one employee spoke up to say that no, it was no longer comfortable.Michael C. Hall, the star of “Dexter,” and his glam rock band, Princess Goes to the Butterfly Museum, were the last act to perform at Mercury Lounge prior to shutdown.Credit…Evan Agostini/Invision, via Associated PressOthers piped up to agree: They felt exposed and vulnerable to the virus at work. Because the late show had already canceled, the owners decided that the club would shut down that night after the early show.At about 9:30 p.m. — painfully early for a Thursday night on the city’s club scene — the audience was asked to leave. “We love you, New York! Don’t touch your face!” Hall yelled at the end of his set.Alex Beaulieu, the club’s production manager, sanitized the microphones and packed the drum kit, amps and cables for longer term storage.“We locked the door and sat at the bar and had a drink,” Wrigley said of the club’s staff, “and we just kind of looked at each other, with no idea what was going to happen.”JULIA JACOBSA Swan Song, Cut ShortFor Sheena Wagstaff, chairman of modern and contemporary art at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, the spring of 2020 was destined to be bittersweet. The Met Breuer, the museum’s experimental satellite space, was going to close, three years ahead of schedule. But its final show was one she’d spent years preparing: “Gerhard Richter: Painting After All,” a survey of the stern and skeptical German artist, filling two floors of the landmark building and including loans from 30 different collections.The exhibition, intended by the now 89-year-old artist to be his last major show, opened March 4. It had the makings of a blockbuster, and it ought to have introduced New York to four paintings called “Birkenau” (2014): streaked, abraded abstractions that obscure imagery of the titular death camp. On March 12, the show’s ninth day, Wagstaff realized it had to close.The Richter exhibition at the Met Breuer had all the makings of a blockbuster when it closed on its ninth day.Credit…Charlie Rubin for The New York TimesAt first the gravity of the crisis wasn’t fully clear. “I had every anticipation that it was going to reopen in May at the very latest,” Wagstaff said recently. But soon she realized that “Birkenau” — a culmination of Richter’s 60-year engagement with German history and the ethics of representation — would not find an audience. “Beyond a kind of personal huge disappointment, it was that the artist, so aware of his own mortality, was denied the possibility of actually making a mini-manifesto to the world. Alongside that was the curtailment of the Breuer. What we ended up with was this implosion.”Richter never saw the show. A few days before it came down, Wagstaff stood alone with “Birkenau”: paintings about the possibility of perceiving history that, now, no one could perceive at all. “It was a kind of haunting experience,” she said. “They became almost anthropomorphic. They’re sitting there on the walls, and there’s nothing, there’s no one to witness them. The paintings are witnessing something, and that witnessing cannot be conveyed any further.”By autumn, the Met had ceded occupancy of the Breuer to the Frick Collection. Most of Richter’s paintings had been crated up and shipped back to their lenders. Yet “Birkenau,” which belongs to the artist, stayed in New York. Wagstaff brought these most challenging works into the Met’s main building, introducing into the lavish Lehman Collection these four speechless acts of remembrance and horror. “It was a trace of the show. The viewing conditions weren’t perfect,” Wagstaff conceded. “We had really limited attendance; we still do. But people stayed in that room for a really long time. For those who came to see it, it was a revelation.” JASON FARAGOOne Final SetBy March 15, Broadway theaters and concert halls were empty, but in the dim light of the Comedy Cellar, audience members sat shoulder to shoulder sipping drinks and watching stand-up comedy. Masks were not required.The comedian Carmen Lynch was hesitant about showing up that night: Her boyfriend was heading out of the city to stay with his family in Connecticut, and she planned to join him — it seemed like it was time to hunker down. But, Lynch said, she knew that the days of doing multiple shows in a single night were ending, and she wanted to make as much money as possible before the inevitable shutdown. She exchanged texts with fellow comedians to feel out who was still performing.“I thought, ‘I’m not doing anything illegal. I’ll just do this one show and then leave,’” Lynch recalled.In the last stand-up shows at the Comedy Cellar before it closed on March 15, comedians joked about Corona beer and the newly clean state of the subway.Credit…Gabriela Bhaskar for The New York TimesSo her boyfriend took her suitcase to Connecticut while she stayed to perform — one set at 7:45 p.m. another at 8:30. Before each comedian would walk onstage to tell jokes in front of the club’s famous exposed brick wall and stained glass, they would reach into a bucket to take a microphone that had been recently cleaned.Just before Lynch went on, the comedian Lynne Koplitz took the stage, removed the sanitized microphone from the stand and theatrically wiped it down with a white cloth another time, saying, “I’ve wanted to do this for years!”When Lynch finished her second set, she didn’t linger. She called an Uber and felt relieved when the driver accepted her request for an hour-and-a-half drive to Connecticut, not knowing how long she’d be gone (until summer) or what the city would be like when she returned (eerily empty, store windows boarded up).She drove away, and in retrospect, she remembers it like a scene in a disaster movie. “It’s like you’re in the car,” she said, “and you turn around and there’s an explosion behind you.” JACOBSAdvertisementContinue reading the main story More

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    Suburban Home Sales Soar in the New York Region

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    AdvertisementContinue reading the main storySupported byContinue reading the main storySuburban Home Sales Soar in the New York RegionLines of cars at open houses and multiple offers above the asking price, often all cash, have become a regular occurrence.Open houses across the region, including one at this house in Port Washington, N.Y., have drawn crowds as sales inventory has dwindled during the pandemic.Credit…Tara Striano for The New York TimesVivian Marino and March 5, 2021, 5:00 a.m. ETHeading into the spring sales season, the housing market in the suburbs of New York has already gone into overdrive, with bidding wars becoming the norm and many homes selling within days of coming on the market.The frenetic sales activity — a second wave after a surge last summer — has been fueled by multiple forces: historically low mortgage rates; pandemic-fatigued city dwellers desperate for more space; and many employers’ willingness to embrace remote work, allowing buyers to look in places beyond what would be considered an easy commute.Another major factor: unusually tight inventory, as people hold onto their homes longer, which over the last few months in some suburbs has led to demand outstripping supply for the first time since the pandemic began.Brokers across the region report long lines at open houses, multiple offers coming in as soon as listings go live, and all-cash deals ruling the day. “This is the strongest market I have seen in two decades,” said Sara Littlefield, an agent in Connecticut with Coldwell Banker.“If there is a silver lining in this devastating pandemic, it’s that it has allowed people the freedom to make lifestyle choices like relocating, or downsizing, or moving up,” Ms. Littlefield added, “and they’re taking that freedom.”At the same time, Manhattan’s housing market has also finally picked up. “Contract activity first broke even back in December with year-ago levels,” said Jonathan J. Miller, a Manhattan-based real estate appraiser who also monitors suburban markets. Then it rose in the first two months of 2021, he said, adding that he expected the strong pace to continue through the spring.In a just-released February report for Douglas Elliman Real Estate, Mr. Miller found that signed contracts for all property types in Manhattan jumped 73.1 percent from a year ago. “It’s a combination of softer pricing, low rates and the distribution of the vaccine — people are feeling more safe about living in the city,” he said.Jeffrey Otteau, the president of the Otteau Valuation Group, based in Matawan, N.J., agreed that once-depressed urban areas would recover. “I don’t think anyone expected people would leave the city,” he said, “and never come back.”For those buyers focused on the suburbs, here’s a glimpse at what’s going on throughout the region.WestchesterBrisk could describe the weather and pace of sales in Westchester this winter, as the single-family sales market builds on its 2020 gains, from Pelham to Scarsdale to Armonk.A shortage of single-family houses explains the heightened competition. Starting last fall, demand began eclipsing supply, according to a new report from Douglas Elliman, and signed contracts have picked up since January: The busiest brackets have been houses priced from $1 million to $2 million, with $600,000 to $800,000 a close second.Among the crop of deals that closed this winter, the time from being listed to going into contract had shrunk to just two months, according to Julia B. Sotheby’s International Realty, though brokers say that spread can be misleading because much of the time is eaten up by overworked bankers and lawyers completing paperwork.In actuality, some houses are finding new owners shortly after hitting “coming soon” websites.“Buyers think they are buying at the peak, but at the same time, they’re still doing it,” said Jennifer Meyer, a Compass agent, who received an offer on a six-bedroom Tudor-style house in Pelham, listed for $1.275 million, on Feb. 26, two days after it went live.Low interest rates and scarce inventory, which are national trends, explain some of the local spike in demand and prices. But other factors are also in play.Troy Benson, left, and Nolan Fitzgerald are relocating from Manhattan to Armonk, N.Y., a suburban hamlet in Westchester County.Credit…Karsten Moran for The New York TimesAfter spending extended time outside of New York to avoid coronavirus, lockdowns and street protests, some buyers warmed to the idea of full-time nonurban life. Troy Benson, 37, who owns a marketing firm, and his husband, Nolan Fitzgerald, 34, who works in fashion, so enjoyed the months spent in their weekend house in Orange County that they decided to stay out of the city for good.After selling the vacation property — in two days, for 15 percent more than its asking price — as well as their condo in the South Street Seaport, the couple are in contract for a midcentury modern house by Edgar Tafel on six woodsy acres in Armonk last listed at $2.475 million.“New York is very high energy,” said Mr. Benson, who will scale down his time in his Manhattan office to just a few days a week. “But I think a lot of people get addicted to the energy and get stuck.”Recent converts to Westchester, brokers say, also include New Yorkers facing expiring leases on the rentals they escaped to last spring and who are now angling for more permanent addresses, further pressuring the market.But it’s not just transplants who are being squeezed. Last year, Marialena Pulice, 39, a school psychologist, and her husband, Chris, 39, who works in finance, made offers on 15 houses, most of which were rejected. “We were outbid, or the seller would go with somebody who had a bigger down payment,” Mr. Pulice said. “Houses were being scooped up left and right.”Late last year, a three-bedroom house in Hawthorne, listed at $589,000, caught the eye of the couple. But their above-ask offer of $595,000 was not enough to seal the deal — at least until the first buyer backed out. The Pulices, who have a young son, have been staying with Ms. Pulice’s parents and will move into their new home this month. “I really can’t wait,” Mr. Pulice said.Homes are selling fast in Montclair, N.J. “The only houses on the market that are sticking around are those that are not so wonderful,” said Roberta Baldwin, an agent with Keller Williams.Credit…Tom Sibley for The New York TimesNew Jersey“The spring market really began in October — that’s how crazy it’s been,” according to Vicki Gaily, a real estate agent based in Saddle River, N.J.As soon as pandemic restrictions eased, Ms. Gaily, the founder of Special Properties, a division of the real estate firm Brook Hollow Group, noticed a burst of pent-up demand, largely from people fleeing urban areas. “I haven’t had a day off since,” she said.Her biggest challenge — and the task facing other harried agents across the state — is finding enough available properties to sell at all price points.As of January, there were nearly 44 percent fewer homes listed for sale in New Jersey from a year ago, according to the New Jersey Realtors trade association. At the same time, closed sales rose during the month by 17 percent and the median sales price surged about 20 percent.“I’ve never seen the inventories as low as they are now,” Ms. Gaily said, noting that in Saddle River, which is in Bergen County, there are “maybe 40 homes” available right now, down from the usual range of 55 to 85 this time of year.Farther south, in Westfield, in Union County, “we have about a third of what we should have in inventory this time of year,” said Frank D. Isoldi, an agent at Coldwell Banker Realty based in Westfield. The result, he said, has been homes being snatched up quickly after multiple bids, and often above asking price.“The only houses on the market that are sticking around are those that are not so wonderful,” said Roberta Baldwin, an agent with Keller Williams Realty who is based in Montclair, in Essex County, where bidding wars are also more common.To help get a leg up on the competition, one of her clients, Brian Herlihy, a 42-year-old financial analyst from Manhattan’s Upper West Side, actually devised a bidding formula last summer, based on the price per square foot of comparable sold properties. “But even then we got outbid,” he said.Emily McDonald and Brian Herlihy recently moved into a fully renovated colonial in Upper Montclair, N.J., but only after the original winning bidder backed out.Credit…Tom Sibley for The New York TimesIn the end, after several unsuccessful bids, Mr. Herlihy and his partner, Emily McDonald, a 38-year-old high school teacher from Brooklyn, managed to move into a fully renovated, four-bedroom colonial in Upper Montclair — but only after the original winning bidder backed out of the deal. Mr. Herlihy paid $1.1 million for the home, which was about $100,000 over his maximum budget.Jaclyn and Zach Plotkin also exceeded what they had hoped to pay when recently buying an Upper Montclair colonial. “We paid a lot over — I don’t want to say how much,” said Ms. Plotkin, 28. “When we started looking, we were less comfortable with bidding over the asking price, but then we came to realize that we had to in order to get a house.”The couple and their infant daughter plan to move from their Midtown East apartment sometime this spring.Tom and Alicia Monforte were filling out paperwork to buy their house in Bellmore, N.Y., just two hours after seeing it.Credit…Adam Macchia for The New York TimesLong IslandBuyers throughout Long Island are likely to face continued competition, too, along with rising prices, in large part because of the shrinking supply of available homes..css-1xzcza9{list-style-type:disc;padding-inline-start:1em;}.css-c7gg1r{font-family:nyt-franklin,helvetica,arial,sans-serif;font-weight:700;font-size:0.875rem;line-height:0.875rem;margin-bottom:15px;color:#121212 !important;}@media (min-width:740px){.css-c7gg1r{font-size:0.9375rem;line-height:0.9375rem;}}.css-rqynmc{font-family:nyt-franklin,helvetica,arial,sans-serif;font-size:0.9375rem;line-height:1.25rem;color:#333;margin-bottom:0.78125rem;}@media (min-width:740px){.css-rqynmc{font-size:1.0625rem;line-height:1.5rem;margin-bottom:0.9375rem;}}.css-rqynmc strong{font-weight:600;}.css-rqynmc em{font-style:italic;}.css-yoay6m{margin:0 auto 5px;font-family:nyt-franklin,helvetica,arial,sans-serif;font-weight:700;font-size:1.125rem;line-height:1.3125rem;color:#121212;}@media (min-width:740px){.css-yoay6m{font-size:1.25rem;line-height:1.4375rem;}}.css-1dg6kl4{margin-top:5px;margin-bottom:15px;}.css-16ed7iq{width:100%;display:-webkit-box;display:-webkit-flex;display:-ms-flexbox;display:flex;-webkit-align-items:center;-webkit-box-align:center;-ms-flex-align:center;align-items:center;-webkit-box-pack:center;-webkit-justify-content:center;-ms-flex-pack:center;justify-content:center;padding:10px 0;background-color:white;}.css-pmm6ed{display:-webkit-box;display:-webkit-flex;display:-ms-flexbox;display:flex;-webkit-align-items:center;-webkit-box-align:center;-ms-flex-align:center;align-items:center;}.css-pmm6ed > :not(:first-child){margin-left:5px;}.css-5gimkt{font-family:nyt-franklin,helvetica,arial,sans-serif;font-size:0.8125rem;font-weight:700;-webkit-letter-spacing:0.03em;-moz-letter-spacing:0.03em;-ms-letter-spacing:0.03em;letter-spacing:0.03em;text-transform:uppercase;color:#333;}.css-5gimkt:after{content:’Collapse’;}.css-rdoyk0{-webkit-transition:all 0.5s ease;transition:all 0.5s ease;-webkit-transform:rotate(180deg);-ms-transform:rotate(180deg);transform:rotate(180deg);}.css-eb027h{max-height:5000px;-webkit-transition:max-height 0.5s ease;transition:max-height 0.5s ease;}.css-6mllg9{-webkit-transition:all 0.5s ease;transition:all 0.5s ease;position:relative;opacity:0;}.css-6mllg9:before{content:”;background-image:linear-gradient(180deg,transparent,#ffffff);background-image:-webkit-linear-gradient(270deg,rgba(255,255,255,0),#ffffff);height:80px;width:100%;position:absolute;bottom:0px;pointer-events:none;}#masthead-bar-one{display:none;}#masthead-bar-one{display:none;}.css-1pxllx6 header h4{font-family:nyt-cheltenham,georgia,’times new roman’,times,serif;font-weight:500;font-size:1.25rem;line-height:1.5625rem;margin-bottom:5px;}@media (min-width:740px){.css-1pxllx6 header h4{font-size:1.5625rem;line-height:1.875rem;}}.css-1pd7fgo{background-color:white;border:1px solid #e2e2e2;width:calc(100% – 40px);max-width:600px;margin:1.5rem auto 1.9rem;padding:15px;box-sizing:border-box;}@media (min-width:740px){.css-1pd7fgo{padding:20px;width:100%;}}.css-1pd7fgo:focus{outline:1px solid #e2e2e2;}#NYT_BELOW_MAIN_CONTENT_REGION .css-1pd7fgo{border:none;padding:20px 0 0;border-top:1px solid #121212;}.css-1pd7fgo[data-truncated] .css-rdoyk0{-webkit-transform:rotate(0deg);-ms-transform:rotate(0deg);transform:rotate(0deg);}.css-1pd7fgo[data-truncated] .css-eb027h{max-height:300px;overflow:hidden;-webkit-transition:none;transition:none;}.css-1pd7fgo[data-truncated] .css-5gimkt:after{content:’See more’;}.css-1pd7fgo[data-truncated] .css-6mllg9{opacity:1;}.css-k9atqk{margin:0 auto;overflow:hidden;}.css-k9atqk strong{font-weight:700;}.css-k9atqk em{font-style:italic;}.css-k9atqk a{color:#326891;-webkit-text-decoration:none;text-decoration:none;border-bottom:1px solid #ccd9e3;}.css-k9atqk a:visited{color:#333;-webkit-text-decoration:none;text-decoration:none;border-bottom:1px solid #ddd;}.css-k9atqk a:hover{border-bottom:none;}The World’s Tallest BuildingsLearn More About N.Y.C. SkyscrapersLuxury developers use a loophole in the city’s zoning laws to build these soaring towers in New York City. This may be one reason why these supertall buildings are facing a range of problemsTake a look at the view from 432 Park Avenue as it was being built.The current high-rise building boom, with more than 20 buildings that are more than 1,000 feet tall built or planned since 2007, has transformed New York City’s skyline in recent years. Its impact will echo for years to come in Manhattan and the boroughs.Tall, skinny buildings tend to sway slightly in the high wind. To keep residents from feeling this movement, developers are placing giant counterweights at the top to slow building motion. Take a step back and take a look with our critic at some supertall N.Y.C. buildings and how the ingenuity of engineers helped build landmarks like Black Rock.“In the last two months we’ve seen such a depletion of new inventory that sales growth has been nominal,” said Mr. Miller, the Manhattan-based appraiser who also follows the Long Island market. He noted in the Douglas Elliman report that signed contracts in February were flat from a year ago, while inventory levels, excluding the Hamptons and the North Fork, fell nearly 37 percent. “That’s a free-fall.”(The Hamptons saw a 72 percent jump in signed contracts in February for single-family homes, according to Mr. Miller, and an almost 38 percent drop in new listings.)On the South Shore of Long Island, there’s about a month’s supply of available homes, or even less, in some areas, agents say. “We would normally have five to six months’ worth at any one time,” said Seth Pitlake, an agent at Douglas Elliman in Merrick. “It’s not that inventory is not increasing,” he said, “it’s just that anything that comes out in the market is being scooped up.”Mr. Pitlake’s clients, Tom and Alicia Monforte, both in their early 30s, witnessed these tight conditions as both seller and buyer. Their Great Neck co-op sold in a week, but when they began searching for a larger property farther east, in Bellmore, they found themselves in a crowded field of purchasers.“We would put in an offer only to find out someone else offered $40,000 over the asking price,” said Ms. Monforte, a clinical social worker, adding that “every free moment was devoted to looking.”The couple recently found a house at the end of a long day of hunting. “It was the last house we looked at out of seven,” Ms. Monforte said. The home — a 2,200-square-foot, five-bedroom high ranch with a $649,000 price tag — had just been re-listed after a previous deal fell through. “After five minutes we knew,” she said, “and in two hours we put in an offer for the full ask that was accepted.”Similar scenarios of stiff competition are playing out on the North Shore. Mr. Pitlake’s Roslyn colleague at Douglas Elliman, Maria Babaev, who specializes in the so-called Gold Coast, recently listed a five-bedroom, split-level in Roslyn Pines that “needs lots of work.”In just one showing, she said, “I had 27 groups of buyers coming in and received eight offers, three above asking.” The winning bid: 10 percent above the $999,000 list price. Ms. Babaev said more expensive homes were selling faster than usual, though she was quick to add that all property types needed to be competitively priced to garner any interest.And what do buyers want? “They want green space,” said James Gavin, an agent with Laffey Real Estate in Manhasset, “and a lot are asking for a home office and then a pool.”Single-family houses have seen a bounce in activity this winter in Westport, Conn.Credit…Jane Beiles for The New York TimesConnecticutIn Fairfield County, towns that struggled with flat sales a year ago have seen major bounces.There are also far fewer houses to go around than at any time since the pandemic began, which is starting to cut into sales volume, according to Douglas Elliman. In February, there were 510 signed contracts, versus 623 in February 2020. Greenwich, though, has posted huge gains in the new year: February saw 108 signed deals as compared with 42 a year ago, according to Elliman.Gains were perhaps expected south of the Merritt Parkway, whose popularity derives in part from regular train service. Indeed, in the past two months, Westport saw 33 sales of single-family homes priced from $1 million to $2.5 million, compared with 19 sales last winter, according to William Pitt Sotheby’s International Realty.But points north were strong as well. Ridgefield had 18 similar sales, according to Sotheby’s, up from six, and New Canaan had 55, up from 11; countywide, there is almost no difference between list and closing prices.But as potential sellers cancel plans to downsize because of suddenly back-at-home children or over worries about finding new homes, supply has been crimped, and the steady stream of New Yorkers searching for homes into the county have created cutthroat conditions.“Briefcases full of cash are coming in. It’s been crazy,” said Alex Ramsey, 38, a financial-services worker who for the past year has been trying to relocate his family from their four-bedroom house in Stamford to a five-bedroom in either Westport or New Canaan. One house they liked had 45 showings in two days, Mr. Ramsey said, “and a line of cars with New York plates filling the cul-de-sac.”Six of Mr. Ramsey’s offers have been rebuffed so far, with the most recent in January, when he failed to connect on a Westport house despite offering a 10 percent premium: “There seems to be so much irrational behavior.”A year ago, the Noroton Heights section of Darien had 67 active listings but there are only 17 today, said Sara Littlefield, a Coldwell Banker agent, who canceled an open house for a shingle-sided 1950s five-bedroom, listed $1.595 million, because she got four offers beforehand.Pre-Covid, buyers asked to be 10 minutes from train stations. But now, because they don’t have to be in the office as much, if at all, that requirement is moot. “Working from home is the future,” Ms. Littlefield said, “and a lot of people seem OK with it.”Lori Elkins Ferber (left), a Sotheby’s broker, talks with Susan and Noah Klein in downtown Westport. Since last summer, the Kleins have bid unsuccessfully on three houses in the town.Credit…Jane Beiles for The New York TimesYet even as buyers are acting quickly, speed can lead to problems. Susan Klein, and her husband, Noah, retired residents of White Plains, N.Y., had their hearts set on Westport when they began looking last June. After two failed purchases, they swooped in last month with an all-cash offer for a four-bedroom house, listed for $1.749 million. And it seemed to do the trick; a contract was in the works.But a rushed title search missed problems, and on Feb. 24, the Kleins walked away. (The seller upped the price to $1.849 million a day later.) “This frenetic market forces you to make very quick decisions,” Ms. Klein said, “which you may need to change.”For weekly email updates on residential real estate news, sign up here. Follow us on Twitter: @nytrealestate.AdvertisementContinue reading the main story More

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    Jing Fong Workers Protest Restaurant Closing

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    Jing Fong Workers Protest Restaurant’s ClosingAmr Alfiky/The New York TimesThe “Save Jing Fong! Protect Chinatown!” chants were heard up and down Canal Street on Tuesday. Over 70 people gathered to protest the closing of the largest restaurant in the area — and one of few unionized restaurants in the city. Here’s what happened → More

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    Pete Wells's Odyssey as Restaurant Critic During Pandemic

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    #masthead-section-label, #masthead-bar-one { display: none }At HomeMake: BirriaExplore: ‘Bridgerton’ StyleParent: With ImprovRead: Joyce Carol OatesAdvertisementContinue reading the main storySupported byContinue reading the main storyTimes InsiderChange by the Plateful: Covering Restaurants in a PandemicTo capture New York’s food scene in these times, I’ve adapted to many roles. But the essence of my job remains the same: hunting for a good meal.Pete Wells’s review of the restaurant Falansai was his first based solely on takeout and delivery.Credit…Adam Friedlander for The New York TimesFeb. 17, 2021, 5:00 a.m. ETTimes Insider explains who we are and what we do, and delivers behind-the-scenes insights into how our journalism comes together.In November, Falansai, a Vietnamese restaurant that had closed at the start of the pandemic, was taken over by a new owner and chef named Eric Tran. I was intrigued by his menu, which included confit duck necks and a seafood curry soup made with peanut milk. The backyard was supposed to be open for outdoor dining on warm nights, but there weren’t any. Too curious to wait for spring, I placed a delivery order, using my own name instead of an alias so the courier would know which bell to ring.Mr. Tran told me later that when he saw the order, he and his sous-chef asked each other whether they were cooking for the Times restaurant critic.“Why would Pete Wells order delivery from us?” the sous-chef asked.“Maybe he’s hungry?” Mr. Tran replied.I was. But I was on the job, too, and that first order persuaded me to review Mr. Tran’s restaurant without eating on the premises at all. It was the first review I’ve written based solely on takeout and delivery but, as restaurants, and my attempts to cover them, continue to adapt to the pandemic, I imagine it won’t be the last.For months after all the restaurant dining rooms in the city were forced to close last March, I wrote nothing that resembled a review. The entire business and all the people in it were suffering, and I spent my time as a reporter, finding out how some of them were getting along. I quickly learned that when talking with anybody who had earned a livelihood from restaurants or bars, I needed to budget at least an hour.Before the pandemic, I normally called chefs after I’d written a review of their restaurant but before it was published, to check facts. The chefs usually sounded as if I were calling with the results of a lab test. One chef called me back from a hospital and told me his wife was in the next room giving birth to their first child, but — oh no, don’t worry, it’s fine, he said; in fact, I’d picked a perfect time to call! These were, in other words, awkward conversations.The ones I had last spring were different. It was as if the fear and distrust all chefs feel toward all critics were gone. They talked about going bankrupt, they talked about crying and not wanting to get out of bed. What did they have left to lose by talking to me?By June, the crisis had settled into a kind of desperate stability. I was starting to run out of restaurants-in-extremis ideas when, midway through the month, the city announced that restaurants could serve on sidewalks and in the streets. On the day outdoor dining began, I rode my bike into Manhattan to have lunch at the first open restaurant I could find. I was as thrilled to eat someone else’s cooking as I was to do something that resembled my old job.It still took a few weeks before I wrote any reviews. At first, I worried that any opinion of mine would be unfair when restaurants were trying so hard to adapt to the new reality. Eventually, I understood that that was exactly what would make the reviews worth writing. Good food in a pandemic was great; great food seemed like a miracle, and I was finding great food all around.My pandemic reviews note the ways that restaurants have trimmed menus and simplified dishes, but even the shorter, stripped-down versions had a lot to praise. There was something that got to me about these small businesses — some of which had opened in the pandemic, all of which were fighting for survival — trying to bring New Yorkers some joy while keeping them healthy. I didn’t want to just report on it. I wanted to bang a drum so people would pay attention.The decision not to put stars on the reviews, as The Times has since the 1960s, was easy. Formerly, I tried to make the stars reflect how close any given restaurant came to being an ideal version of itself. But in the pandemic, there were no ideal restaurants, only places that were making it up as they went along.Almost everything about outdoor dining appealed to me: the street life, the flower pots, the shoestring architecture of in-street platforms. Even the weather played along, staying mostly dry and temperate nearly through the end of December. But there was no question that by Christmas it was getting too cold to dine al fresco.In my reporter mode, I had been told by scientists, airflow engineers and other experts how Covid-19 is transmitted, and all last summer and fall I felt fairly certain that eating outdoors could be relatively safe for everyone. (Some public-health experts believe that now, even outdoor dining in New York City is unsafe while the local risk of Covid transmission remains very high.) I did not have the same certainty about dining indoors or about some of the plywood structures I call enclosed porches, particularly their windows and doors, which are closed so they have almost no ventilation. I have walked away from several of those.I wanted to keep reviewing restaurants, but I didn’t want to go back into their dining rooms both because of the risk and because I was afraid readers would take it as an all-clear signal. When the governor halted indoor dining again in December, my selfish reaction was relief. Then I briefly got depressed. How would restaurants survive? And how would I keep writing about them?One answer had already started to appear on sidewalks and streets in the form of small greenhouses, huts, tents and yurts. Inside these personal dining rooms, you can (and should) sit just with people from your own household. If the restaurant thoroughly airs the space out between seatings, any germs you breathe in should be the same ones that are bouncing around your home. Many restaurants instruct their servers to stay outside the structures as much as possible, though some don’t. Indoor dining is back on in New York, but for now, I order more takeout than I’ve ever done in my life. I am still going on my rounds, too, but I dress differently these days. The other night, I put on thermal underwear, thick wool socks, a heavy shirt, synthetic-blend trousers and a bulky sweater. After lacing up my lined hiking boots, I packed a scarf and a Microfleece travel blanket into a tote bag. Then I strapped on a couple of masks. I looked like I was embarking on an overnight snowshoeing trek, but I was only going to Manhattan to chase down some tacos.AdvertisementContinue reading the main story More