A Very Brief Time of Greenwich Village

In January of 1917, a group of young artists; actors, poets, and painters climbed the Washington Square Arch in the dead of night, to declare secession from the nation, and to proclaim the neighborhood as the “Free and Independent Republic of Greenwich Village”. The artists, or Arch Conspirators, as they would become known as, released balloons and shot cap guns off the top of the monument, a moment considered to be foundational for Greenwich’s status as the artist capital of New York. The neighborhood would not only become the home of a number of iconic artists over the next fifty years, but also find its identity through the art, community, and even the folksy, bohemian fashions that were found, iconic for becoming the uniform of the nonconformist. 

In March of 2017, one hundred years after the Arch Conspirators, Lynn Yaeger for Vogue Magazine wrote an article titled “Why the Coolest Girls Still Go to New York City’s Greenwich Village”. The article explores Greenwich’s history as a nest for “hipsters, rebels, rule breakers, [and] iconoclasts” to flock to, “by Greyhound bus and thumb”. Pictured alongside this article are photos of model and artist Gabrielle Richardson, as well as Selah Marley, Bob Marley’s granddaughter. Both are photographed clad in Coach’s Spring 2017 collection, the cheapest item of which being a $400 polo. Washington Square Park, though still iconic, has been redefined by those who now inhabit it; i.e. internet personalities, the occasional Instagram artist, and, of course, NYU students. 

In September of 2025, we are at a crossroads. The internet is reopening younger eyes to the Greenwich Village art scene, films like Inside Llewyn Davis and an increased access to music and art from the scene are shining a new, albeit occasionally fictionalized, spotlight on the 60s Greenwich music scene, causing more and more to find a kinship with the era, and flocking to secondhand stores to find their own beatnik-inspired fashions. We are living in a time where the thrift is more popular than ever, though as sustainable fashion is becoming more and more accessible, so is the prospect of flipping thrift finds as “vintage statement pieces”. Vintage boutiques and online resellers are no strangers to profiting off of old trends coming back, though with the added promise that the price tag has more weight behind it, as the moment you buy that pair of bleachwashed Levi’s jeans from the 70’s for $550, you’re also buying a ticket into the life of that young, free-spirited painter, who’s ready to change the art world forever.

All of this is not to say that there are no longer artists in The Villages. Though the impact that the neighborhood has on the artist scene has waned since the slow endangerment of the folk song, New York still exists as one of the only places in the country where jazz and folk clubs not only exist, but thrive in close proximity to one another. Echoes of Greenwich’s past still exist within the neighborhood, and though they may be difficult to see, it is still more than possible to find her old soul within the cracks and crevices. The queer population and community around Stonewall are still an indispensable part of the neighborhood, and (hopefully) do not seem to be leaving any time soon. Greenwich Village is also, in many ways, intangible, and exists as a movement just as much as a place. The soul of the New York artist has not vanished, but has rather moved to other neighborhoods and cities, such as Bushwick, Ridgewood, and cities like Boston and Chicago, redefining itself to be a trademark of these new homes, for better or worse. But is Greenwich’s history a sign for a potential boom of artists in the future, or will its fate of overpriced cafes and inaccessible rent simply repeat itself?

One hundred years after the Arch Conspirators, we do not necessarily have a new generation of poets and musicians launching their careers out of the doors of the Cafe Wha?, but much rather the ones dreaming for that break, and the ones who can afford it.

Jackie Bauer