The Steinway Mansion sits on a bluff, at 18-33 41st Street, overlooking the East River; off in the distance is Hunts Point, a Bronx neighborhood; hard to the right is the infamous jail, Rikers Island.
Not far away sits the Steinway & Sons complex.
Originally called Hallett's Cove, after its 1652 European settler, in the early 1800s it became a resort for wealthy Manhattanites. Hoping to lure John Jacob Astor's investment, locals renamed the area Astoria; not for the last time, a Manhattan resident scoffed at the idea of crossing the river, and invested only 500 bucks. Nonetheless, the name stuck.
Dutch, English, German and Irish have settled in Astoria; in fact, a nearby neighborhood is called Dutch Kills. Italians and Jews followed as settlers, as did Greeks. For many, Astoria is Greek, though the Maltese, Kosovars, Bosnians, Albanians, Croatians and Serbians who followed surely would beg to differ. Ditto Spanish, Bangladeshi and Lebanese, Yemeni and Egyptians. It is truly a melting pot.
Yet the question remains: what is Astoria?
One part of it is industrial. Just up the block from the piano building there's a power plant. All around that Queens corner there are various factories, most of obscure provenance. One was instantly recognizable:
I had lunch in one of many restaurants in that square mile (mine a good ramen joint on Ditmars, Hino Maru), having parked ten blocks away: traffic is a constant in the neighborhood. On my way back, I walked up to 21st Avenue. After a few blocks, headed in my direction I saw a youngster on a skateboard. He was moving at a good clip and not propelling himself with foot kicks, so I thought it was one of those motorized things (once I got into an elevator with a youngster carrying her skateboard and as we chatted I mentioned having seen another youngster on a motorized skateboard he controlled wiht an app on his phone; she said what's the point and I understood what she meant).
This was no skateboard. It's called a onewheel. The youngster I spoke with told me he bought it online; he added those blue foot holders himself, for leverage. To go forward he leans into the front part of the board; to slow down he leans back. That's a handle in the middle of the side; it can be carried, but it weighs thirty pounds. The young man was very friendly, and humored me: I asked him half a dozen questions. We said goodbye, and we went our separate ways.
A couple of blocks further on I passed by Intermediate School 121 (which is in an area denoted as Ditmars-Astoria on a map; no one calls it that, and a google map puts it in Long Island City).
Shakespeare's got swag.