If you’re a fan of Battery Park, I’ve got bad news: Charles Addams has released a lot of monsters in that neighborhood. And they’re eating everybody.
April Fool’s. That’s just from an illustration that I saw in a creepy mansion. The true story is as follows…
A few weeks ago I ventured out into a thunderstorm to visit the Charles Addams exhibit at the Museum of the City of New York. I was a huge fan of Wednesday Addams and all things monstery growing up, so naturally when I heard about “Charles Addams’ New York,” I had to go. Two trains, three rainy blocks and one destroyed umbrella later, I arrived at my destination, which happened to be a very formidable mansion.
Addams, best known for his creation of the Addams Family, was also a long-time freelance illustrator for The New Yorker. He began designing witty cartoon commentary for the publication in 1932, at the age of 20, and continued to do so until three weeks before his death in 1988. As a native New Yorker, I was looking forward to seeing Addams’ clever take of the city and its inhabitants that graced the pages of the publication.
The thing I love most about Addams is the dark sense of humor he managed to emote from almost all of his work. You can imagine how excited I was when I walked in and saw a wall-sized mural of a man walking by his subway station at night, where a giant hand was emerging from the depths, luring him down to the platform.
Between the dozens of illustrations from The New Yorker, a room dedicated to The Addams Family (complete with life-sized portrait of Morticia) and a sweet battle-axe that Addams hung on his studio wall, there was a lot to see. My favorite piece was of a man walking his dog that gave new meaning to the phrase, “Some people look like their pets.”

Creepy and kooky illustrations aside, the highlight of the exhibit was hearing bursts of laughter in the room; gotta love that dark humor. It’s been a while since I’ve gone to an art museum and heard folks giggle at something other than a scantily clad maiden holding fruit.
About an hour later, I dashed back out into the storm. I had seen all there was to see: monsters, masks and a full wardrobe of Wednesday’s outfits. All for $10. Not too shabby. The trip was definitely worth losing my umbrella over, even if there wasn’t a giant monster hand in sight as I sprinted to the 6 train.
