If such reductions continue, how long will it be before New Yorkers can rent a decent apartment in Manhattan for $1,000 a month?

Brokers are loath to make predictions, of course. One laughed at the very idea. Another suggested it might get there if the recession lasts two or three years. And another offered that he had seen a small studio in the East 70s for $1,350 and that's about as good as it gets.

But consider the numbers. Manhattan rents are, on the whole, declining. And they're declining now more steeply than in past months.

Overall, the average rent for a studio is down almost $100 since October, to $1,808 per month, according to market reports from Citi Habitats. Data compiled by the Real Estate Group New York show that the average rent has decreased 8.67 percent in doorman studios between this November and the same period a year ago. In non-doorman studios, the average rent is down 2.43 percent, with units in the East Village going for $1,922 – the lowest since TREGNY began releasing numbers. One-bedrooms show a similar, albeit less extreme, trend downward, with a 3.12 percent decrease between November 2007 and last month, according to TREGNY. Vacancy rates hit 2.04 percent Manhattan-wide this November, according to Citi Habitats.

But Daniel Baum, TREGNY's chief operating officer, noted that the figures don't tell the whole story. For one thing, new developments skew the averages. Incentives, such as free rent, are not factored in. So the drops are likely more vertical than the numbers show.

"It's fair to say that there does not appear to be any rational reason for why you would think the rental market is going to rebound overnight," he said. "It's pretty clear that things are much weaker today than things have been a year or two ago."

For the most part, landlords continue to lure tenants with concessions, rather than locking them into leases at lower rates. (Mr. Maycock also heard of an existing tenant who demanded the same freebies as renters who had just moved in, as a kind of "preferred customer" deal. It didn't work.) But the economy is not going to turn around in the next few months. We have yet to see the economic downturn's full effects.

"[Landlords] will be aggressive during the first quarter, over the new year and into January and February," Mr. Maycock said, "and I think then they're going to take another look at the numbers. There's still a lag effect in terms of job losses."

ALTHOUGH THE DIP IN Manhattan rents is partly seasonal, next year's annual pickup may be considerably smaller. For one thing, the crop of new hires who would typically fill the vacancies may not arrive. Mr. Baum recalled the months after September 11: "What was interesting in that respect was that we actually saw a rebound from that quite rapidly," he said, since residents displaced from Lower Manhattan moved uptown. "That's not the case right now."

So where would demand come from?

Perhaps the outer boroughs. It's too early to tell how many Brooklynites will trickle back to the city if prices come down, but it seems obvious: The prospect of affording non-cardboard-box shelter in Manhattan is decidedly alluring.

"There are people who are going to kick the tires," said Gary Malin, president of Citi Habitats, "and put pen to paper, and see if the financial circumstances make sense to them to make the move."

On the other hand, there are neighborhoods outside Manhattan with ardent fan bases, people who prefer Brooklyn or Queens or the suburbs. Mr. Maycock has yet to work with any "transferees from Brooklyn," and he thinks that rents in Manhattan would have to come down 20 or 30 percent before a critical mass of renters would hop the river. Which means less demand, more supply, lower rents and another step closer to that elusive $1,000 apartment.

Regardless, the make-a-decision-now-or-you'll-lose-the-deal atmosphere is gone. Brokers are working harder, even though "the phones are ringing," said Brian Stern, managing director of Bond New York.

"When you're doing a lot of volume," Mr. Maycock said, "it's just normal to have deals fall through, just pass by the wayside because that's just the nature of the business. So I think there's a sense now that you put 100 percent of your concentration behind every deal, so you make sure nothing untoward happens to it."

"Most landlords out there, they don't care," he said. "They just care about getting paid. I believe if you give [tenants] enough tools, not only will they grow, but they'll stay loyal. They'll grow with you. They'll refer people to you. I think it creates a better business relationship."

Mr. Yerushalmi's business, Sunshine Suites, is one of several freelance office companies across the city. And, as commercial real estate struggles to attract occupants, these communal spaces are growing, offering tenants flexible rental terms, networking opportunities, old-fashioned office perks and, well, emotional support.

"For us, we think we're supporting whatever comes next," said Miguel McKelvey, general manager of Green Desk, a freelance office building in Dumbo. "So if big corporations aren't able to sustain whatever they're doing in the past – if the model shifts to a more freelance, flexible, fluid workforce – this is the kind of space they're going to need."

Green Desk opened its first of six floors in June, renting out single desks for $425 per month. Converted from a Dumbo factory at a cost of $3 million (plus another $1.2 to $1.5 million investment), the loft-like space is bright, partitioned with glass dividers, and capped with exposed beams scrubbed to reveal the original wood. There's also free organic coffee.

"You should be able to just come in, bring your notebook, and that's it," Mr. McKelvey said.

It's as easy to arrive at Green Desk – and other freelance office buildings – as it is to leave. Since tenants do not sign leases, they are free to depart or downsize their offices at will. Mr. McKelvey has one client who is a trader: "For him, it's very literal. He'll say, 'Next month I may have to take a cheaper office, and next month a bigger office.' And I don't know if it's necessarily fear, but it's uncertainty. And the flexibility that we have supports that uncertainty."

Shared spaces are clearly cheaper than leasing a typical office, but even those who work from home have been drawn to communal cubicle-dwelling. Randall Green, 22, who works for an Internet start-up based at Sunshine Suites, said "there was something cerebrally trippy about [working at home]. Just having a bed in your office was probably counter to the project."

No one will confuse Sunshine Suites with a bedroom – or an office, for that matter. Taking dance clubs (and possibly visions of a dystopian future) as his inspiration, Mr. Yerushalmi designed an entry space of black glass; arched hallways wallpapered with golden-y, shellacked wood chips; and Lego-like black cubicles that can shift into at least 38 different configurations. Sunshine also has a sushi bar and a Vermont vacation home (with a trampoline!), available for $50 per person per night.

But one of the most oft-cited benefits of such a setup is the chance to collaborate with other tenants. Journalists who work at Room 58, a writer's space in Gowanus, where a desk is $375 per quarter, share contacts, pitches and the odd job.

"I know the whole idea of collaboration is probably what everybody talks about," said Andy Collins, a jeweler and member of 3rd Ward, an artist facility in East Williamsburg. "I don't think that people realize how much of that goes on during the day, because there's so many people that come and go, and so many other people that you meet."

At Sunshine, Mr. Yerushalmi created a Facebook-like social networking site for the community; he also offers a "Think Tank" desk configuration that places like-minded entrepreneurs within the same enclosure. Every two weeks, renters are free to move to a new part of the office.

"It's all about creating that infrastructure to feed off each other," Mr. Yerushalmi said. "It takes one client, one account to pay for your rent an entire year at Sunshine. So, if it's a question of sucking it up or taking a risk or whatever you want to call it, I'd rather take my odds being around people than being at home."

Mr. Yerushalmi plans to open new spaces in the near future. Possible locations include Penn Station, London or Israel, depending on where he gets the best deal. Green Desk is also growing: a two-story building on Kent Avenue and North Sixth Street in Williamsburg is set to open in six months. And in January, 3rd Ward will remake a portion of its media lab into a new coworking space.

For some, $400 or $500 per month in extra rent may appear less like a bargain and more like an extravagance in these troubled times. But tenants maintain that it represents a savings in increased productivity, and an investment in their own sanity.

Although Ms. Collins has noticed a definite slowdown in her jewelry sales compared to last year, she plans to renew her membership at 3rd Ward, which is $300 per month. "I just wanted to be able to make more noise and use the metal shop," she said.

Employees at 3rd Ward – strewn with discarded chandeliers and old televisions, buzzing with electric guitar strains and the hiss of industrial-sized spray paint guns – agreed that it is a kind of oasis from the recession, a place to seek out comfort and encouragement.

"Every writer has come here because they need it," said Erin Courtney, cofounder of the Brooklyn Writer's Space and a partner in Room 58. "It's not a luxury, it's a necessity. If they lose all their freelance jobs, it won't be a necessity, it'll be a luxury. But as long as they have work that needs to be done, it's a necessity."

The nightlife of Astoria's 20-somethings is at risk.

"In terms of getting into Brooklyn, it's impossible," said Mr. Del Senno. We sat at a chic local restaurant that only three weeks ago, he said, had been a diner. "So many people live in Brooklyn. Anyone our age living in Astoria is going to have a ton of friends in Brooklyn. And it's just hard to see them."

The M.T.A.'s budget proposal includes a list of cuts that would target nighttime travel to and from the neighborhood, eliminating the W line, which makes local stops between Astoria and the Financial District; terminating the G train in Long Island City, Queens; and extending late-night wait times from 20 minutes to half an hour. For many young Astoria residents, what could be a quick trip to Williamsburg will become an increasingly daunting prospect.

"It shouldn't be this huge problem that I've chosen to live three miles away from my friends," said Claire Skowronek, an Astoria-based writer and filmmaker who loathed the idea of settling in Williamsburg. "Sometimes I feel like I might as well live in Rockaway!"

Ms. Skowronek often takes the G train to the Brooklyn Academy of Music, Atlantic Center, or McCarren Park. Although G trains rarely run their full route on weekends, it is the only subway line that directly connects Brooklyn and Queens, and without it, Astoria residents are forced to travel through Manhattan.

"If the G was gone," said Ms. Skowronek, "I'd never go to Brooklyn. I'd stop going all together."

Some young Astoria residents have given up on the G altogether; for them it is the possible discontinuation of the W that poses more of an inconvenience. Without the train, which stops service at 11:00 p.m., they will be forced to take the N, an express train, instead. The lack of transit options is one of several reasons why Sarah Aasbo, a 25-year-old paralegal, is contemplating moving out of her one-bedroom apartment.

"I don't follow this as a hard and fast rule," said Ms. Aasbo, "but if I am planning things, I'll try and say, 'O.K., I'm doing this one thing with a friend who lives in Brooklyn, let me see if I can do anything else with someone in Brooklyn.' … It sounds kind of sad to plan out your social calendar that way to see as many people as possible, but it becomes the most efficient way to do things."

Other Astoria residents complain of spending money on taxis; passing otherwise pleasant evenings dreading the commute home; getting waylaid by late-night service disruptions; or waiting on subway platforms for two, three or four trains in one trip.

"I can't tell you how many times I've been in the library or something," said Mark Lebetkin, 27, a graduate student at New York University, "and the next thing I know it's midnight. … And I know immediately that I should have just packed up an hour earlier because it would have been a million times earlier that I'd have gotten home."

Heather Pierre, a 27-year-old nanny, often wonders whether it is worth going out at all if it entails such complicated strategizing. Once she had to transfer six times to get to the IKEA in Red Hook. Another time, she said, "I woke up and there was just two guys passed out on my couch. And I understood it because, who wants to do that commute at two or three in the morning?"

Although residents of Astoria are quick to praise the area's inexpensive rent, sense of community, and variety of late-night dining options, few can convince their Brooklyn friends to make the trek to the neighborhood. Mr. Del Senno enjoys catching a film in Manhattan, or playing board games with friends in Brooklyn. But unless they're going to the famed Bohemian Hall and Beer Garden, his friends rarely return the favor.

"Everyone I know who moves to the city, they want to move to Brooklyn," he explained. "And why is that? It's well-connected, it's hip, it's up-and-coming. That makes it really expensive. Rentals in Brooklyn are retardedly expensive sometimes. People live, in my opinion, in neighborhoods that are way beyond their means. And I don't blame them for that, but I think that's part of it: if other neighborhoods in the city were more accessible, of course, people would live there. But they don't because it's not."

Despite Astoria's inaccessibility, no one seems to think local hipsters or young professionals will protest the planned cuts. They're too "jaded," "transient," or "apathetic."

"Whenever I hear reports of 20-somethings advocating in New York for anything," said Mr. Del Senno, "they're just dismissed as a bunch of hipster, whining cry babies. It's never, ever, ever taken seriously."

Every last one is going ahead with holiday party plans.

"As a management team," said Jane Bayard, an executive vice president at Warburg Realty, "we had a question of whether it was going to be appropriate or inappropriate, but the company chose to represent strength, not weakness."

Ms. Bayard considered the Warburg celebration more of a "gathering" than a party – it will involve 125 brokers and staff members in a party room – and felt that anything more elaborate this year would be in bad taste. "We're very aware of the economic times," she said, "but this was something that we felt wouldn't be good for morale to give up; it would be sort of giving in."

Morale-boosting was the most commonly cited reason for fêting an otherwise abysmal season real estate-wise. It seems platefuls of hors d'oeuvres, moderately priced booze in plastic cups, and awkward employee chit-chat is more precious than ever.

"[Sotheby's International Realty] was not planning to host a party this year," wrote a company spokesperson in an e-mail, "and our agents were supportive of that decision, recognizing the importance of corporate fiscal responsibility in the current economic climate." Instead, however, the agents donated their own money and manpower to host a "casual, festive get-together" at Tony's DiNapoli on the Upper East Side, which is owned by a partner of one of the agents.

The Clarett Group will hold its soirée in the penthouse of their own Sky House condominium, a development that is now, reassuringly, over 90 percent sold. Brown Harris Stevens plans to go ahead as scheduled with a bash at Cipriani on 23rd Street (said a spokesperson for the company: "Brown Harris Stevens believes in celebrating the holidays.”) And the New York office of Williams Real Estate (formerly called GVA Williams) will be throwing its standard celebration this year at Fred's at Barneys.

"Sure, we're cognizant of what's going on in the economy," explained Barbara Nelson, director of marketing and communications at Williams, "but the employees – you know, you don't want to cut out those types of things, which are beneficial to the employees and to the company."

But others are toning it down this year. Silverstein Properties has scaled back from a sit-down dinner to a cocktail party, cutting its costs by a little less than half. Bellmarc Realty scrapped its company-wide event and will host more "intimate" gatherings for 35 to 50 people at the firm's five neighborhood offices.

"We're mindful of the current economics right now," said Jo-Anne Sinnott, Bellmarc's director of media and marketing, "and it's really not the time to be splashy."

Stribling & Associates and Halstead Property (and another firm that asked not to be named) are also throwing holiday parties, according to our poll.

"That stuff has pretty much all dried up now," said Edward Rosenthal, the company's chief operating officer. "That kind of extravagant, nonsensical spending has kind of gone the way of the dodo."

Coordinating lavish vacations, finagling the right table at the right restaurant, and otherwise making fairy tales come to life used to be the bread and butter of the residential concierge business. These days, however, the city's concierge services – companies that cater to residents of luxury condominium and co-op buildings, as well as to private individuals – are seeing their clients cut back on comfort, focusing instead on more practical concerns.

"Last year we had tons of people go down [to Florida], spend $10,000 a day, rent boats and houses and golf courses, and do these over-the-top experiential packages," explained Jenene Danenberg, the founder of Luxury Attaché, which services the Jean Nouvel-designed 110 11th Avenue and the Clocktower Residences at One Hanson Place. This year? So far, no such requests have come in.

In these tough economic times, even the ultra-wealthy are practicing restraint. According to several of the city's leading concierges, requests for private aviation are down. Attendance at parties with free food is up. Demand for tailors is on the rise, as fashionable women forgo couture and instead hem skirts. Citywide, concierges are seeing their members choose the five-star hotel, but not the presidential suite; a day spa, not a week in Greece; Convivio, not Per Se.

"Instead of the first row," said Ms. Danenberg, "it's the 15th row."

Mr. Rosenthal, whose company sees to the needs of residents at 20 Pine Street The Collection, where Giorgio Armani’s firm had a hand in the interior design, explained that they are less interested in "fleeting" luxuries. Members are opting instead for vacations that provide them with social and cultural benefits: a trek through Rwanda to see gorillas, for example. Even the clients who have not taken a financial hit are holding back. The future is uncertain, after all, and wanton spending looks rather tacky.

"If they're doing events and things," said Mr. Rosenthal, of his clients, "they don't want to see the giant Champagne tower. It's not what – in today's climate it's going to turn people off. These more understatedly elegant events are the things more people are looking for."

AND IT’S NOT JUST the well-to-do who are toning down their demands. Matthew Goldstein is the vice president of sales and business development at Abigail Michaels, the city's largest concierge, which assists residents at the partially rent-regulated Stuyvesant Town and 95 other buildings in the tristate area.

"It's across the board," he said. "It's economies of scale. Where the person at the most expensive property would buy that [Montblanc] pen, now they're buying the Tiffany key chain [as a gift]. If they were buying the Tiffany key chain, the person today might have switched to the fruit basket." Abbie Newman, a principal at the company, added that this was once the season to plan opulent holiday parties; instead, clients are opting for quieter events, catering parties in their homes.

As a result, concierges are making an effort to be more reassuring, more proactive, more patient with their clients. At a recent staff meeting at Abigail Michaels, Ms. Newman reiterated the necessity of remaining calm, and appreciating that residents' tempers might flare.

"I don't think people necessarily share their financial woes or concerns with their concierges," said Ms. Danenberg of Luxury Attaché. "But I think people can tell that last year they went on a three-week trip to India and this year they're going to St. Barths for a week. That doesn't mean they lost all their money, but it does mean the concierge can be more tuned in and sensitive."

THE IRONY IN ALL this is that the residential concierge business might be one of the only sectors of the real estate industry that has yet to take a hit. Abigail Michaels has hired seven new core staff members. At All About Brooklyn, a concierge service based in the borough, gift certificate redemptions are through the roof. Even Quintessentially's top-tier membership levels are holding strong.

As developers outfit luxury buildings with an increasing number of amenities, concierges themselves are seeming less like a luxury and more like a given. Ms. Newman and Ms. Danenberg both consider their services an aid to developers, a way to entice buyers even as property sales slow. ("Affordable differentiator," Mr. Goldstein said, "the two words we hammer home to prospective clients.") Quintessentially markets its memberships as a way to save money. And for residents of luxury buildings with concierges, who often receive a year's worth of unlimited calls when they move in, it's no wonder that more are taking advantage.

One particularly popular request? Waiting around for the cable guy.

"Maybe six, nine months ago, people would view that as an expensive service," Mr. Goldstein of Abigail Michaels said. "But today, because they can't miss work, they can't miss that day – because they might not be sure a job will still be waiting for them – they're going to eat that cost. That's a big example of the difference in the economy."

In the ensuing years, the development company built a glossy condominium tower, outfitting its 88 units with marble countertops, Viking ranges and dramatic views of the Manhattan skyline and Central Park. Jill Sloane, an executive vice president at Halstead Property, broke a Harlem sales record when she helped sell a 4,000-square-foot penthouse for $8 million. And brokers, marketers, journalists, buyers and Harlem residents tested out a new label along the way: Central Park North.

But all that seems long ago.

"My business basically changed overnight," said Ms. Sloane, explaining that she had had the best year of her career, until the collapse of Lehman Brothers in September.

And what of the progress of that strip of park-front property along 110^th Street, once destined to be a hot new address? The rampant development some envisioned will likely take a lot longer – if it ever happens. For better or worse, 111 Central Park North may be, literally, one of a kind.

"Nobody's dying to get there," said Charlie Lewis, a senior vice president at Warburg Realty, who specializes in Harlem deals. "When it comes down to it, there's no market because it's almost like a little nondescript area. It's just a great place to be for park views, but there's no neighborhood."

The boundary of Central Park North is tricky to draw. People who have lived in the area for decades still call it West 110th Street. Some say 110th Street North or divide the thoroughfare down the middle, dubbing the northern side 110th Street and the southern side Central Park North. Street signs display both names.

"For me it's easier to say, when answering the phone, to say 'Good morning, 125 Central Park North,' instead of saying '125 West 110th Street,'" said Henry Banks, a doorman and concierge at the building. He added that mail comes to both addresses but that most tenants use Central Park North when ordering deliveries. "It's easier, more convenient."

Most observers would sketch the neighborhood's borders between Frederick Douglass Boulevard and Fifth Avenue. But if the peripheries are nebulous, the center is certain: 111 Central Park North, which towers almost twice as high as the other buildings around Lenox Avenue.

Units in 111 CPN went on sale in December 2006, and most sold between October 2007 and July 2008. ("The two-bedroom flew off the market," said Ms. Sloane.) Several three-bedrooms are still for sale, with asking prices in the neighborhood of $2 million.

"Certainly, less desirable neighborhoods are going to get hit harder," Ms. Sloane said of the downturn, "but I think with that kind of view it will come back pretty quick."

BUT WILL 111 CENTRAL Park North have any plush neighbors?

At this point, there are few lots in the area available for redevelopment. The 9,000-square-foot ground-floor retail space at 111 Central Park North – steps from the 2 and 3 trains, with ample sidewalk space facing the park – remains vacant. The other buildings on the street are mostly co-ops, with a church at 145 West 110th Street. Some have already been refurbished; others are public housing. Sales at one building, at 137 West 110th Street, date back to 1988, according to PropertyShark.

"There's nothing you can do," Mr. Lewis said. "There's no land. Unless the developer offers an astronomical amount of money to come in and make those things over." Mr. Lewis believes that changes in the market will not affect the area, simply because there's no market there to be changed.

Gary Davis, a partner at Browne Fino Davis and formerly the Athena Group's executive director of development, confirmed that 111 CPN was "an unusual site," since it used to be retail, in contrast to the rest of the street, which is mostly residential.

The Observer ran into Mr. Davis on his way home; he lives on the building's seventh floor. ("I found this deal and put it together," he said. "I've been pretty close with it for a long time.") As far as he is concerned, the strip is different than the rest of Harlem: the proximity to Central Park, the street furniture, and the symmetry of the Park's bordering streets all differentiate West 110th Street. But Mr. Davis believes that change will come gradually.

"The only building that might be in play is the triangular one back here," he said, referring to a retail building on 21 Lenox Avenue, which he said some local developers are interested in tackling.

"This would be the one that should go." He pointed to the Park View Hotel, a single-room occupancy hotel at 55 West 110th Street. "That's a great site. That could have a significant building on it."

"But that's not going to happen for a while," Mr. Davis continued. "No, nothing's going to happen. For three or four or maybe five years, it's going to take, it could take that long. To the point where people can build buildings again and it makes sense."

Mr. Lewis, the Warburg broker, calls 111 CPN a "magnificently well-designed building," and believes its value will hold through the downturn. But he sees it as a destination for buyers priced out of Central Park West – in other words, a one-off.

"It's like this: there's always a right price for someone to take an offer and buy something and create whatever they want to create," he said. "And if we were still in a boom time, maybe a developer would have come north and asked those co-op owners in those co-op buildings, 'Hey I've got a great price, would you buy out, would you sell?' Maybe."

DEVELOPERS HAVE REMADE NEIGHBORHOODS, of course. (Dumbo comes to mind.) But in today's market, who has that kind of cash flow? Who wants to take that kind of risk? And, more importantly, who could get the credit to do it?

So far, the only other condominium building in the area is 125 Central Park North, where Ms. Sloane purchased an investment property in 2005. Two units are up for resale, according to PropertyShark, including a penthouse apartment, which sold for $1.675 million in September 2006 and has been listed at $1.8 million since Aug. 1. Another owner is asking $1.345 million for a two-bedroom he bought in August 2006 for $1.15 million.

"If somebody bought in the last year or two," said Ms. Sloane of 111 CPN, "I would say you need to wait to sell because you're not going to be selling at what you paid for. That's for sure."

"It'll slow down turnover up here, as will most other places," said Mr. Davis, of Browne Fino Davis. "You'll probably see a little more depreciation of value here than you would in other, more prime locations."

At present, apartment prices in northern Manhattan are roughly steady, according to data compiled by Halstead. Average prices on condominiums rose from $637 per square foot in the third quarter of 2008 to $650 in the same period last year, but prices at 111 CPN skew the data much like 15 Central Park West does for the Upper West Side. Inventory in Northern Manhattan increased by 13 percent between the third quarters of 2007 and 2008.

The area has seen widespread change, which has earned mixed reviews from locals. While most residents welcome the drop in crime rates, others worry that owners are letting buildings decay to kick out longtime tenants and facilitate rent hikes.

"Where I'm living in, it's kind of bad," said Qiana Nicolau, a fresh-faced cosmetology student who moved to the Park View Hotel a month or two ago. "But outside it's not as bad. Because it seems more safer outside than it actually is inside."

"If you can still see the park, it looks good over here," said Henry Francis, a porter who used to live in the area but now lives in the Bronx. "But you come on this side [farther north], and you still have the drugs, the common criminals, the criminal activities, troublemakers in the neighborhood."

Mr. Francis felt that the real estate downturn would not really affect the area: "We've always been broke," he said. Other residents echoed Mr. Francis' opinion, or wondered why developers had built condos and not housing for the homeless. Some pointed out that the designation "Central Park North" is nothing new.

"That's not a new neighborhood," said one stay-at-home mother, who declined to give her name. She has been living in the area for all of her 37 years, and was pushing her newborn in a stroller on a recent mild afternoon. "That's been the name for years."

"I believe that the area has undergone and will continue to undergo renovation, building, maybe not at the same pace as before," said Allan Aciman, a senior vice president at Bellmarc Realty, who lives nearby at the Towers on the Park. "But this is an area that has already been completely renovated and rebuilt to a great extent already."

"To be honest with you," he added, "I've been calling it Central Park North for the last 20 years. So it's tough for me to call it anything else."

"Every year, it seems, they try to come up with yet another reason for doing it," said Teresa Toro, co-founder of Save the G, a coalition of community groups dedicated to the line. "So it becomes hard to believe any one reason. They would just really love to do it and have not really justified their case."

"Now they've got the financial crisis as cover to get rid of it," echoed James Trent, the treasurer of the Queens Civic Congress, an organization that represents over 100 community groups in the borough.

On Nov. 18, the M.T.A. outlined a massive budget cut proposal that would permanently terminate the G at Court House Square in Long Island City, Queens. The agency first proposed shortening the line in 2001, but preserved evening, night and weekend service to 71st Avenue-Forest Hills due to community pressure.

This time, however, the crisis is extreme: funding sources, such as real estate taxes and city and state support, are on the decline, while fuel charges and the cost of debt service are rising. At a transportation town hall meeting at the Swinging Sixties Senior Center in Williamsburg on Monday, Andrew Inglesby, New York City Transit's assistant director of government and community relations, spelled out the challenges the agency confronts:

"It's a tough number that we had to get to," he said, referring to the M.T.A.'s obligation to balance its budget. "No matter what you do you're going to get grief from one neighborhood or another. And we really feel like we spread the bad news for everyone."

That bad news includes eliminating the W and Z lines entirely, raising the base fare to $2.50, and stretching late night train waits from 20 minutes to half an hour.

Acknowledging the breadth of the current crisis, activists and elected officials perceived G service as crucial to the health of Brooklyn and Queens.

"Anytime you're cutting the G," said Jake Maguire, a spokesman for Councilman David Yassky of Brooklyn, "you're stunting the development of the communities along the G corridor, which is really significant. So I think that has a serious impact for the city."

"This hurts Queens business," Mr. Trent of the Civic Congress said. "I don't know how much it hurts travelers. But it certainly makes it more difficult for Brooklyn shoppers to come to Rego Park."

G riders also registered their concern over the service reductions, pointing out that Astoria will face the loss of two trains, the G and the W.

"We were paying more for our fare and we still don't have the service that they say we're going to get," said Epifanio Canongo, a maintenance worker who commutes to Manhattan from Myrtle Willoughby Avenue in Brooklyn. "We're still waiting a lot of hours and a lot of minutes for the trains, and we still have the same problem over and over again. It's just not fair."

The proposed cuts to the G would save the M.T.A. $1.9 million per year, according to Mr. Inglesby. He noted that the G has only run its full route on eight of the past 52 weekends. (Budget reductions would not affect the planned extension of the line to Church Avenue in Brooklyn once construction on the Culver Line viaduct is complete.)

"A lot of people who now take one trip may have to take two. That's what it is," said Hilary Ring, the M.T.A.'s director of government affairs, at the Monday meeting. He indicated a PowerPoint presentation that juxtaposed photographs of subway cars from the 1970s and today. "It's either that or we let the system slide back into disrepair. Because we need money to make sure the system is maintained."

Since 2001, G advocates have held public hearings, staged rallies, and lobbied elected officials to improve service on their beleaguered line. Currently, Save the G is anticipating the findings of the Ravitch Commission, which will release its recommendations on public transit funding in early December, before pursuing more organized action. Ms. Toro thinks the movement could inspire others, and is hoping something like a "Save the W" group will form.

"People need to do more than complain to each other," she said. "They really need to speak up. It does matter. Their elected officials are listening. They need to speak up and organize."

But even without the $5 million-and-up transactions from these ultra-luxury condos – 102 this year! – there have been at least 33 condo, co-op and other single-residential sales that have broken that barrier in 10023.

Herewith, the 16 addresses that gave us the biggest deals in the zip code.

1824 Broadway /1 Central Park West
A total of seven units came from the Trump International Tower, adding up to close to $46.6 million in transactions.

1980 Broadway/111 West 67th Street
The Park Millennium condo tower contributed one unit to the list; it went for over $5.48 million last February.

2112 Broadway
The top half of the Apple Bank Building, which was designed by Edward York and Philip Sawyer in 1928, was recently converted from offices to 29 condos. Two of those sold for over $5 million each this year, accounting for $11.9 million in sales.

25 Central Park West
The Century, an iconic two-towered Art Deco building, contributed three condos to 10023's number of ultra-luxury sales, totaling $24.2 million.

41 Central Park West
Madonna's contentious purchase of a co-op apartment at Harperley Hall – price tag: $7 million – added one more property to the list.

46 Central Park West
Further along the strip, one unit in this co-op building sold in August for just under $6 million.

91 Central Park West
And another co-op unit sold here, this one for $7.25 million.

101 Central Park West
Built in 1930, this 19-story co-op building was once home to Harrison Ford. One unit went for $5.85 million in early October.

115 Central Park West
There were three $5 million-and-up co-op sales at the Majestic, racking up $21.8 million in closings.

119 Central Park West /1 West 72nd Street
The Dakota, storied former residence of countless boldface names, was also home to the zip code's most expensive sale of the year outside of 15 CPW and Time Warner, one $20.5 million deal that closed in January.

200 West End Avenue
One of the new luxury condos at this Costas Kondylis-designed tower squeaked by the ultra-luxury cutoff, going for just over $5.3 million.

13 West 63rd Street
The Park Laurel, also designed by Costas Kondylis, had one unit go for $10 million.

1 West 67th Street
One $5.3 million co-op unit sold in the Hotel des Artistes, a Gothic-style building designed in 1917 by architect George Mort Pollard.

120 West 72nd Street
Seven condo units in Harsen House, newly designed by BKSK Architects, sold for more than $5 million this year, for a total of $44.3 million in sales.

24 West 73rd Street
Israeli entrepreneur Ron Izaki sold two units in this brick condo building for a total of $11.8 million in sales.

55 West 73rd Street
This entire apartment building sold for $7,733,300 at the end of January.

Next month, the glossy advertising guide will devote 20 percent of its print pages to promote homes that have already sold. The program, Just Sold 2008, is the company's attempt to offset industry pessimism and to convince readers that, yes, homes are selling.

"There was so much negativity in the media," said Todd Walker, the company's senior vice president of operations and sales. "How can we come up with a program that can help tell that story, that homes are still being sold?"

The Real Estate Book, available for free on street corners citywide, publishes 25 editions in the tri-state area and prints 8 million copies across the United States and Canada. As in other sectors of the housing industry, The Real Estate Book has seen a dip in business. But a bigger recent challenge has been to counter the impression that no one's closing deals.

"Advertisers are feeling really stressed out and overwhelmed," said Tami McCarthy, a spokesperson for the Real Estate Book. "How can they maintain a presence in a really tight market?"

Last summer, the company devised the Just Sold program: when a realtor buys a one page spot, The Real Estate Book will donate a second page to showcase addresses that have sold this year. Advertising rates run between $500 and $600 per page per issue, which comes out every four weeks. (New York City rates are on the higher end.) The program will likely cost The Real Estate Book up to $1 million, "so it's a significant investment on our part," Mr. Walker said.

"There's more in it for the consumers and the advertisers than us," he said, "but we felt like this is a great way for us to give back. And we felt like if you give – what's in it for us is hopefully other advertisers will tell other realtors that we care and that they should advertise with us."

A broker's participation in Just Sold entails selling enough homes – up to 12 – to fill a page. Mr. Walker said the program is getting "full participation" in most of the Real Estate Book's markets, although it was too early to give exact numbers. (Just Sold launched on Nov. 3.)

Overall, the company has seen a slight drop in ad sales, especially since brokers that worked part-time through the boom years are no longer "actively practicing real estate," Ms. McCarthy said. "Top agents are the ones that are conducting most of the business today." The program is, in part, designed to guide consumers to those top agents and to convey what properties they are selling, where, and for how much.

"They've advertised with us through good times and bad," Mr. Walker said, "and it's a way for us to thank the advertisers for their business and help elevate the status in their community."

Just Sold 2008 will run through January.

In the opinion of the director's son, Philip Maysles, 28, the co-op building on West 72nd Street had become "a lot less fun." Although the Maysleses sold their apartment for less than expected, the earnings were sufficient to purchase three buildings farther north: a brownstone on 122nd Street, a "shell of a building" on 120th Street, and a storefront at 343 Lenox Avenue that now houses the theater at the nonprofit Maysles Institute.

"Our goal from the inception was to cultivate a non-traditional audience for documentary film and what you could call art films," said Philip, who acts as the Institute's programmer and youth programs director. "Rather than just trying to appeal to the film-going audience from all over the city… we've been targeting niche audiences that may not be interested in film as art in general, but may be more interested in a certain cultural phenomenon or a certain political situation."

To this end, the cinema launched “Rent Control: NYC Documented and Imagined,” a six-month long film series that comprises a celluloid tour of New York City's neighborhoods past and present. The festival kicked off last month with documentaries, panels and director talks focused on Harlem.

"It's a balance between enjoying the different representations of New York and that spirit of nostalgia," explained the series' curator, Jessica Green, "but also looking forward and trying to bring together films and speakers that spark the imagination."

The films encompass a range of genres – experimental to narrative to cult – but one strand runs through the series:

"The idea that the relationship between the reality of New York and the depiction of New York is more intertwined than one might think," said Ms. Green, a former executive editor of BET.com, who wears glasses with red frames and a houndstooth swing coat. "Whatever the depiction of New York City is at any point – whether it's the All in the Family era or whether it's the Sex and the City era – is influenced by the changes that are happening in New York economically and socially. But also that the depictions of New York in the media represent reality, and the branding of New York actually influences the circumstances of New York."

Screenings at the theater, a room with a Persian rug and 60 seats with batik cushions, began last April. The building took a year to renovate – there was a lot of mold – but reportedly once housed a disco club called Universal, frequented by Sammy Davis Jr. and Stevie Wonder, and an after hours club called the Black Door, according to neighbors. The popcorn machine is cranking and "we're working on selling soda," said Philip Maysles, a smile briefly gracing his stubble-laced cheeks.

November's lineup highlights the Lower East Side and Chinatown; the Upper East Side, Upper West Side and 42nd Street will fill out December; and by January, programming will focus on Brooklyn, with documentaries on Williamsburg, Coney Island and Bedford-Stuyvesant. Events range from a panel on queer youth issues to a talk from a former Times Square sex show worker to the showing of two Bed-Stuy dramas, The Education of Sonny Carson and Spike Lee's Do The Right Thing.

"These are two movies that are shot in the same exact neighborhood within 10 or 15 years of each other," Ms. Green said. "And the neighborhood that's captured, what it actually is, is totally different."

Of course, the Institute itself is a part of that change in Harlem, and not everyone is happy about it. "Let's say 50 percent are confused as to what goes on," said Philip, "40 percent are really positive and think this is a really good thing and is needed, and about 10 percent argue about it."

THE MAYSLESES ARE THAT species examined so thoroughly in their film series: newcomers.

"I don't think that I ever traveled – except for one time when I fell asleep on the subway, and going to Yankees games – I don't think I'd set foot in Harlem until I was, maybe, in college," said Philip, who wore a grey Polo Ralph Lauren sweater and a baseball cap emblazoned with his team's logo. "When I was growing up, there was this invisible perimeter north of, I'd say, 112th Street."

Philip studied visual art at the California Institute of the Arts, and began work on projects that deal with the history of white artists examining black culture. He moved back to New York City by way of Houston, and ventured into Harlem for the first time eight or 10 years ago. Partly as a result of his urging, and partly as a result of budget constraints, the Maysleses bought in the area he had grown to love. (The family looked at property in Brooklyn and Long Island City, but "if you've grown up in Manhattan, you feel a primordial connection to the place," he said.)

The artist acknowledged that the Institute, which he calls a "family business," is part of a gentrification process. The topic of appropriation is one he has considered at length.

"Gentrification will take place regardless of what I do," he said, "so it's a question of, 'What kind of work do you do?' more so than who you are. And I feel that the work that we do here is really positive, in terms of empowering people and also offering people exposure to great cinema, and also great information."

Admission to screenings is a suggested $7, and many of the programming selections have been suggested by patrons, who are mostly local residents. Additionally, the Institute has several educational programs, including On Our Side, which teaches documentary production skills to teens with incarcerated parents.

In the basement, a multi-purpose pink room strewn with black and orange balloons leftover from Halloween, Shashonda Cunningham made a point of mentioning Albert Maysles' generosity: He gave her 9-year-old daughter her first job, selling popcorn. "It's built up her self-esteem," Ms. Cunningham said.

"I see this effort as a good kind of development," Ms. Green, the curator, said. "This is the good side of the new Harlem."