The Stone Legacy of Washington Heights

Castle Village, Washington Heights, 1938. Contemporary architectural
rendering depicting the redevelopment of the former Paterno estate

Every time I travel north out of the city along the Henry Hudson Parkway, my companions’ eyes are almost always drawn to the left, where the Hudson River stretches toward the majestic Palisades. It is a breathtaking vista, to be sure. Yet I often find myself looking in the opposite direction. Rising from the hillsides of Washington Heights are cyclopean retaining walls, graceful stone arches, terraces, and masonry of astonishing scale. They possess a permanence that makes even the tallest modern glass-and-steel buildings seem fleeting by comparison. Rather than imposing themselves upon the landscape, they seem to grow from the cliffs themselves, honoring the genius loci of the Heights and preserving the rugged character that makes it unlike any other neighborhood in New York.

Washington Heights is one of the city’s great monuments to stone. Around the Met Cloisters, through the wooded paths of Fort Tryon Park, and beneath the towering approaches to the George Washington Bridge, the exposed Manhattan schist gives the setting much of its distinctive character. The Billings Arcade, pedestrian underpasses, and steep stepped streets appear almost organic, as though they had always belonged to the hills themselves.

It is easy to admire this remarkable setting while forgetting the men who created it. Long before modern machinery made such work routine, innumerable laborers, a great many of them Southern Italians, drilled, blasted, hauled, and set these enormous stones by hand. Quarrymen, masons, and subway sandhogs endured punishing conditions to transform the rugged ridge into streets, parks, and neighborhoods that continue to serve generations of New Yorkers. Their labor became part of the very foundation of the city.

Dr. Charles Vincent Paterno

Among the visionaries who recognized the potential of the region was Dr. Charles V. Paterno, born Canio Paternò on August 4, 1878, in Castelmezzano, Basilicata. Perhaps it is no coincidence that a man born among the dramatic stone peaks of Castelmezzano should later feel at home among the rocky heights of northern Manhattan.

Trained as a physician but remembered as one of New York’s most innovative developers, Paterno refused to flatten the landscape to suit his ambitions. Instead, he worked with the terrain, pioneering architectural solutions that embraced the natural contours of the cliffs. His hillside developments, including the Paterno Castle, the Colosseum, Hudson View Gardens, and the Pumpkin House, demonstrated that engineering and beauty could coexist, allowing architecture to emerge from the rock rather than obscure it.

Whenever I pass through Washington Heights, I cannot help but think of the Southern Italians who left an indelible mark on these hills. They brought more than resilience and determination; they brought generations of stoneworking knowledge, refined over centuries in the mountains and villages of the Mezzogiorno. Here, that ancient tradition found a new expression, shaping one of the most distinctive urban landscapes in New York City.

The neighborhood remains one of the city’s unsung masterpieces. Its enduring masonry speaks not only of engineering skill but of vision, sacrifice, and craftsmanship. In an age increasingly defined by soulless architecture, every arch, terrace, arcade, stone stairway, and weathered wall stands as a tribute to the Southern Italian workers who built them and to pioneers like Dr. Charles V. Paterno, whose vision helped transform the Heights into one of New York’s most beautiful and monumental works of art.

~ By Giovanni di Napoli, August 20th, Feast of San Bernardo

An Evening of Bourbon Numismatics

There are few pleasures greater for an amateur numismatist than gathering with kindred spirits over drinks, light fare, and lively conversation. We recently spent an evening salon-style, passing around coins and medals of the Kingdom of the Two Sicilies and the Sacred Military Constantinian Order of St. George, each piece inspiring discussions of history, artistry, and the Bourbon past. It was a reminder that collections are best appreciated not in isolation, but in the company of those who share the same passion.

Feast of St. Augustine of Hippo at the Church of St. Augustine in Ossining, New York

A Tempting Birthday Gift

Finding a birthday gift for a friend whose massive book collection, particularly when it comes to the Kingdom of the Two Sicilies, puts mine to shame is no easy task. Yet while perusing his shelves recently, I noticed something genuinely surprising: he did not already own a copy of Giacinto de’ Sivo’s Storia delle Due Sicilie dal 1847 al 1861.

I managed to find a beautiful 1964 Arturo Berisio edition published in Naples: two volumes bound in the publisher’s cloth with gilt lettering and ornamentation, transparent dust jackets, sixteen plates, and the original color-illustrated slipcase, all in fine condition. De’ Sivo’s monumental history is unapologetically pro-Bourbon and remains one of the most important contemporary accounts of the fall of the Kingdom of the Two Sicilies.

I have to admit, after seeing the set in person, I was seriously tempted to keep it for myself. Such are the sacrifices we make for friendship. And, for obvious reasons, I waited until after giving it to him before publishing this. I wasn’t about to ruin the surprise.

~ By Giovanni di Napoli, August 18th, Feast of Sant’Elena of the Cross

Feast of Our Lady of Knock at St. John Vianney Church in Colonia, New Jersey

Evviva San Rocco! A Look at the 137th Annual Feast of San Rocco di Potenza in Little Italy, New York

San Rocco di Montpellier, ora pro nobis
Photos courtesy of Pasquale De Davide