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One cold October morning in 1978, the NYPD received a desperate
call from a British man, later identified as the bassist with
punk pioneers the Sex Pistols, summoning them to his apartment.
Having made their way up the ancient central stairwell of
this hotel he was staying in, other residents peeking over
the ancient iron balustrade at the commotion, police found
his girlfriend Nancy Spungen lying in a pool of blood
in the couple's bathroom, a knife sticking out her side. The
legendary but ailing drug addict Sid Vicious was charged
with her murder and six months later was himself dead, following
a heroin overdose.
Perhaps the most violent episode in the history of New York's
infamous Hotel Chelsea, it probably came as no surprise
to anyone who'd stepped foot in this ramshackle asylum of
artistes. Starting life in the 1880s as New York's first co-operative
apartment complex on a road that served as prototype for theatre
land's leading thoroughfare of Broadway, the place has always
been a trailblazer; albeit an unconventional one. For a time
the Chelsea found itself at the heart of everything, until
the opening of The Empire started the theatre shift eastwards.
By 1905 the Chelsea co-op was bankrupt and the building was
sold for use as a hotel. From the 1950s onwards its director,
Stanley Bard, made 'creatives' - a notoriously difficult
type of clientele - welcome and soon it was overflowing with
writers, painters, musicians and transients - many of whom
are now world-renowned.
Celebrity deaths and decadence
It's a certain type who've found their way to this Victorian/Gothic
rest house in the formerly low-income, rapidly gentrifying
area west of Broadway; those with a proclivity for over-indulgence.
The poet Dylan Thomas uttered his last words in Room
206, "I've had 18 straight whiskeys and I think that's
the record", fell into an alcohol-induced coma and died.
Charles Jackson wrote The Lost Weekend, the
tale of a man destroyed by drinking here while in the '60s
it was colonised by the poets and writers of the Beat Generation.
William Burroughs wrote Naked Lunch in his room
while on a whole lot more than just drink and Jack Kerouac
took a load of Benzedrine and cranked out his novel On
the Road in 20 days on a single roll of 150-foot long
Teletype paper.
Rock 'n' Roll Roots
It was the 1960s that heralded the invasion of another type
of artist too: the who's who of Rock 'n' Roll. Bob Dylan
moved in to apartment 211 with his new wife Sara, produced
his album Blonde on Blonde and had his first son, Jesse
whilst there. Joni Mitchell wrote her song Chelsea
Morning about the place, which in turn inspired that hip
couple, the Clintons, to name their daughter Chelsea. Other
musical residents included Jimi Hendrix, Leonard Cohen,
Jefferson Airplane, Patti Smith, The Band, Iggy Pop, Frank
Zappa and, of course, Sid and Nancy.
Artist and film maker Andy Warhol made his critically
acclaimed, drugged-out, narcissistic, sadistic film Chelsea
Girls in various apartments of the hotel and its mythical
status was sealed on celluloid.
This assortment of creative figures bumped into each other
as they crossed the antique and sculpture laden foyer or waited
for the elevator, Parties were regularly held in their rooms;
many living there for months or years and were entitled to
a special rate.
Staying at the Chelsea Hotel today
The Chelsea continues to attract people looking for an oasis
of eccentricity in an increasingly regimented world. The apartments,
with their own kitchenettes, still give off an aura of potential
with eclectic furnishing and unusual objects. Current residents
consider themselves part of a community; a real thriving subculture
surviving in a nuthouse.
If you want to plug straight into the power generator of
New York's creativity you can't go wrong with a stay at the
Chelsea; it isn't cheap, the creaky elevators will wake you
at 5.30 without fail but it's probably got more celebrity
ghosts per square foot than anywhere else in city. |
