These coarse-featured fellows are hunkered down outside The Britannia, an apartment building on a stretch of West 110th St. also known as Cathedral Parkway. Each appears twice, in fact, once on either side of a broad court open to the street. Christopher Gray's brief history calls them gargoyles, which traditionally indicates the presence of a spout to convey water away from building walls. But because these figures are unspouted — little surprise, since they're sited just above the first floor and not at the roofline — I've held to the term grotesque.
In contrast to the exaggerated facial features, the bill of fare seems plain. One fellow takes a taste from the pot; a second spoons into his soup; a third huddles over a plate of chicken. A fourth, we might fantasize, depicts the keeper of the eating-house, pleased by his profit from serving a prix fixe without dessert.
Update: I took these photos in 2011. As of 2020, the figures to the east of the courtyard are partially concealed by scaffolding, and the lot of them could stand a good cleaning with a coarse brush.
Grotesques at The Britannia
527 West 110th St. (also known as Cathedral Pkwy.; Amsterdam Ave.-Broadway), Manhattan
