An irregular Library regular

Corey Kilgannon/The New York Times Greg Sloane in his spot at the New York Public Library for the Performing Arts on Thursday


Perhaps the most regular visitor to the New York Public Library for the Performing Arts is Greg Sloane, who can be seen nearly every day among the dancers, musicians, actors and culture-mongers who flock to this gem at Lincoln Center. Mr. Sloane, 62, is not from the School of American Ballet or the Juilliard School or any other esteemed arts institution nearby, but he does excel at his own particular performing art: survival in New York City without a home.

It is a magnificent facility.

It is a pursuit that involves seeking a roof, a chair and some heat, maybe something clean to lean on. And this is where the library comes in. After a wash-up and shave in the bathroom, he might peruse the 12,000 titles in the library’s Reserve Film and Video Collection and select something to watch. Or perhaps he will select a recording and settle in for the day to culture himself. For the arts-minded, the Performing Arts library is one of those places that makes New York City worthwhile, with its extensive archival collection of recordings, video, sheet music and other resources. But most important to Mr. Sloane, it is open every day except Sunday — till 8 p.m. Mondays and Thursdays and till 6 other days — and he is allowed in. There are somewhat private and comfortable listening and viewing stations where one can avail oneself of the library’s resources, or just take a nap.

Mr. Sloan can invariably be found on the first level near the Recorded Sound and Moving Image Circulating Collection, next to those delving into their Shostakovich and Rostropovich. He might be nodding out listening to some Anita Baker on his headphones or checking out an older film. Maybe a Steve McQueen movie — he loves McQueen. Or James Coburn in “Our Man Flint”? Now that’s a movie. Not to say that Mr. Sloane has no use for today’s movies. He goes to the theater almost daily — to sleep. On a Sunday, he will arrive early to pay a senior or matinee ticket price and settle into a seat in the back and doze off.


The closest megaplex to the library is AMC Loews Lincoln Square, where he says the late showing of “Avatar” lets him sleep till 3 a.m. when staff members clear the theater. Recently, however, it was the police who rousted him. “They called in the cops to wake me up,” he said. “They handcuffed me and took me to the 20th Precinct and gave me a ticket. So I’m boycotting that theater now.”


Mr. Sloane is a bit scruffy, but not bummy — picture Billy Dee Williams in a rough role. There’s a way to keep oneself in clean clothes without ever doing laundry: the thrift store. “There’s no reason to go around in dirty, smelly clothes,” he said. “There’s rich people in this city who wear something once and give it away. You get anything you want for a buck or two — cheaper than doing laundry.”

Cheaper than doing laundry; like the sound of that.


On Thursday, he did look pretty styling, with his snappy bracelets and rings and his Dior sunglasses, whose lenses he replaced with his own prescription bifocals. He wore a Claiborne suede coat over a cashmere blazer with the sleeves cut off, vintage green wool Army pants and nice running shoes. He sleeps in various locations outside or sometimes at a friend’s or a girlfriend’s place, he said. “I got family in every borough, but you can’t visit your family when you’re homeless,” he said. “When something goes missing, who do you think everyone looks at?”


Mr. Sloane likes his Hennessy Cognac and Newport cigarettes. Once he burns through his monthly welfare check, he hails cabs for the party people bar-hopping in the meatpacking district. For this, he wears around his neck a yellow medallion on a chain that says “TAXI.”


Mr. Sloane grew up in the Bronx in the Patterson projects, which also produced the basketball great Nate (Tiny) Archibald and the boxer Iran Barkley. For high school, he attended the S.S. John Brown, a maritime school docked then in the East River, he said, and then served in the merchant marine on the DePauw Victory cargo ship, which delivered munitions to troops in Vietnam. He recalled spending months on the anchored ship listening to bombing and gunfire night after night. He said he was still unable to sit inside for very long without looking out windows. Thankfully, his library spot has them.

As one might imagine, Mr. Sloane sees — or sleeps through — many current movies, and he offered his Oscar predictions.


Best actor: George Clooney for “Up in the Air,” a biased prediction since he has met Mr. Clooney. Hailed him a cab, in fact.


Best actress: Sandra Bullock in “The Blind Side.”


Best picture: “Avatar.”


“I hope ‘Avatar’ wins so they keep it in theaters longer,” he said. “It’s three hours long, so you get more time to sleep.”