I took my grandmother shopping this past Saturday and it has stayed with me. Not because it was necessarily a remarkable trip as shopping goes. It was a textbook case of hope on display.
It's Spring, of course, so many stores are deeply discounting their winter clothing. My grandmother was shopping the sale rack, looking at fleece winter tops. She's 89. She's obviously counting on another winter. That struck me and is still making me think.
I hope to do more travelling than I have in the past few years. Over the next few years, I want to do a few Europe trips and a Central America trip. My grandmother is hoping for at least one more winter. I suppose my hope shouldn't be any different than that - or simpler, perhaps - hopeful for a tomorrow and time to wander.
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Friday, April 23, 2010
Thrillist...in a city near you?
It would seem to be a sad state of affairs that my source of news and entertainment this week has pretty much been the Metro (Philly). But maybe I'm being a snob? After all, this is the second blog this week about something from the Metro that excited...or even thrilled...me.
Thrillist (read that as "Thrill list") is a website that claims to use untold powers to find your city's gold: new, unknown, and inexcusably underappreciated finds, all free. The website invites us to gorge on its email smorgasboard every day: the newest eats, drinks, gear, travel and entertainment.
It looks like they sometimes send out more than one email a day. If you simply view online, however, you get the "digest" version. I already found points of interest this way. For example, Stephen Starr, the man who brought Philly Buddakan (and sent copies of it to Atlantic City and then NYC), has expanded his empire with a new Mexican restaurant called El Rey. It's located at 20th and Chestnut at the site of the former Midtown IV.
The website has another nice feature. If you select a story, it provides the Amazon-like feature ("Other readers who liked this book also liked...) of "People Who Dug This Article Were Also Into..." This feature led me down a lazy river of other interesting information.
Thrillist is available for a number of cities including Atlanta, Austin, Boston, Chicago, Dallas, DC, Las Vegas, London, LA, Miami, NYC, San Fran, and Seattle. So, even if your city isn't a Thrillist city, you can still check out the website to plan visits to any of those cities. Just be aware that all of the categories (examples, Sex & Dating and Travel) may not be populated with ideas yet.
I began to look at the Thrillist NYC but decided it didn't make sense to do that. As a non-resident now, I don't have immediate plans to return for a visit. This will probably change in a few months but, for now, I have to get my thrills in Philadelphia and the surrounding 'burbs.
Thrillist (read that as "Thrill list") is a website that claims to use untold powers to find your city's gold: new, unknown, and inexcusably underappreciated finds, all free. The website invites us to gorge on its email smorgasboard every day: the newest eats, drinks, gear, travel and entertainment.
It looks like they sometimes send out more than one email a day. If you simply view online, however, you get the "digest" version. I already found points of interest this way. For example, Stephen Starr, the man who brought Philly Buddakan (and sent copies of it to Atlantic City and then NYC), has expanded his empire with a new Mexican restaurant called El Rey. It's located at 20th and Chestnut at the site of the former Midtown IV.
The website has another nice feature. If you select a story, it provides the Amazon-like feature ("Other readers who liked this book also liked...) of "People Who Dug This Article Were Also Into..." This feature led me down a lazy river of other interesting information.
Thrillist is available for a number of cities including Atlanta, Austin, Boston, Chicago, Dallas, DC, Las Vegas, London, LA, Miami, NYC, San Fran, and Seattle. So, even if your city isn't a Thrillist city, you can still check out the website to plan visits to any of those cities. Just be aware that all of the categories (examples, Sex & Dating and Travel) may not be populated with ideas yet.
I began to look at the Thrillist NYC but decided it didn't make sense to do that. As a non-resident now, I don't have immediate plans to return for a visit. This will probably change in a few months but, for now, I have to get my thrills in Philadelphia and the surrounding 'burbs.
Thursday, April 22, 2010
"Old School"
My new work in Philadelphia is going to consume me for quite some time. I'm on day 4 and I'm already putting in 9 hours there and coming home and working. My wanderings, therefore, are limited to reading about places.
I read in this morning's Metro newspaper (Philly edition) about a hotel in an old school. I made a mental note, as I have for years and years when I read of something of interest, as a possibility should I be in Portland, Oregon again someday.
The McMenamins-Kennedy School Hotel features 35 classrooms-turned-hotel-rooms. These rooms all have the original chalkboards and cloakrooms. (Gosh, "cloakroom" is a word I haven't heard in a very, very long time.) Each room has been retrofitted with a private bath.
The rates - at what I would consider this boutique-type hotel - are reasonable by city standards. Well, at least as compared to hotel rates in Northeastern cities. The queens run from $109 - $125 and the kings from $114 - $130. I'm not sure if the rate includes admission to the on-site movie theater, which is showing current movies now (Crazy Heart and Avatar). There is also an on-site brewery.
A blurb on the hotel's website references this brewery...and smokin' in the...well, not exactly boys' room.
As I daydream, I think this is one old school (for someone proudly "old school" and a former teacher-for-an-ever-so-brief-time) that requires a visit.
I read in this morning's Metro newspaper (Philly edition) about a hotel in an old school. I made a mental note, as I have for years and years when I read of something of interest, as a possibility should I be in Portland, Oregon again someday.
The McMenamins-Kennedy School Hotel features 35 classrooms-turned-hotel-rooms. These rooms all have the original chalkboards and cloakrooms. (Gosh, "cloakroom" is a word I haven't heard in a very, very long time.) Each room has been retrofitted with a private bath.
The rates - at what I would consider this boutique-type hotel - are reasonable by city standards. Well, at least as compared to hotel rates in Northeastern cities. The queens run from $109 - $125 and the kings from $114 - $130. I'm not sure if the rate includes admission to the on-site movie theater, which is showing current movies now (Crazy Heart and Avatar). There is also an on-site brewery.
A blurb on the hotel's website references this brewery...and smokin' in the...well, not exactly boys' room.
Remember when the worst thing you could imagine was being kept after class? My, how things have changed! At Kennedy School, you'll never want to leave. Here you can have a pint in a classroom, enjoy an aged whiskey and a cigar in detention, enjoy a movie in the old auditorium.... The possibilities here are endless. (Just don't run in the hallways, please. You might spill your beer.)The school was a former elementary school that opened in 1915. More of the school's history, and information related to the artwork throughout the hotel, can be discovered in the former principal's office. With this history and the other features of the hotel, it is, according to the hotel website,
No wonder why in March '10, the Kennedy School was named the #1 Quirkiest Hotel in the U.S. by TripAdvisor.com -- an A+ for us!The website also indicates the McMenamins organization has several other hotels. Haven't done my homework (ha!) to see if these are in the Pacific Northwest or are in similarly "re-purposed" buildings. (Most appropriate to mention as this is Earth Day.)
As I daydream, I think this is one old school (for someone proudly "old school" and a former teacher-for-an-ever-so-brief-time) that requires a visit.
Monday, April 19, 2010
Red Hot Patriot
The Philadelphia Theater Company describes Molly Ivins as the "famously brassy newspaper columnist and best-selling author." Sister playwrights Margaret and Allison Engel titled their play about her Red Hot Patriot: The Kick-Ass Wit of Molly Ivins, which certainly indicates how they think about her.
The "world premiere" of this play happened right here in Philly. I saw the play yesterday and it was very entertaining and educational. Kathleen Turner performed in this one-woman show and she was amazing. The critics have smiled on this play, too. There is some speculation that it may go to Broadway.
Kathleen Turner resembles Molly Ivins, as seen in the advertisement to the left. (The real Molly is on the top and Kathleen Turner is on the bottom.) It was a little eerie when Kathleen was on stage and they showed black and white pictures of Ivins in the background.
Turner performed by telling a story to the audience. At times, the storytelling became more like a conversation with the audience. It was a wonderful way to learn about Ivins. Her wit was caustic at times and most always funny. For example, she was the first to refer to George W. Bush as "shrub." She had a dog named "Shit;" she named it that because she said there were times she needed to go out side and say, "Shit! Shit!"
Other Molly Ivins quotes and quips abound on the internet. Google her to find them. Some examples are:
Turner/Ivins shared how she was upset the Times wouldn't let her take Shit to work and that she couldn't walk around the office without shoes. She also thought it was ridiculous that, when she was writing Elvis' obituary, she had to refer to him as "Mr. Presley" as was (and still is) the Times tradition.
While she was Smith College educated and was glad to win the prize of working for The New York Times, she was happy to head back to Texas. This is where she was born and raised and where she worked for many years for many different papers. Her favorite topic was writing about the ineptitude of the Texas legislature. A particularly funny topic in the play was when she skewered a politican for his malapropisms. One that I recall is "...you should not fire people but do it through 'employee nutrition'.
This play inspired me to request an inter-library loan book by Molly Ivins. It's called Molly Ivins Can't Say that, Can She? After that, I want to read a biography about her.
Ivins was a hard working and hard drinking woman. She died of breast cancer in 2007 at the age of 63. She was controversial but wanted to make people think about their most important role - that of citizen. She was, in fact, a Red Hot Patriot.
The "world premiere" of this play happened right here in Philly. I saw the play yesterday and it was very entertaining and educational. Kathleen Turner performed in this one-woman show and she was amazing. The critics have smiled on this play, too. There is some speculation that it may go to Broadway.
Kathleen Turner resembles Molly Ivins, as seen in the advertisement to the left. (The real Molly is on the top and Kathleen Turner is on the bottom.) It was a little eerie when Kathleen was on stage and they showed black and white pictures of Ivins in the background.
Turner performed by telling a story to the audience. At times, the storytelling became more like a conversation with the audience. It was a wonderful way to learn about Ivins. Her wit was caustic at times and most always funny. For example, she was the first to refer to George W. Bush as "shrub." She had a dog named "Shit;" she named it that because she said there were times she needed to go out side and say, "Shit! Shit!"
Other Molly Ivins quotes and quips abound on the internet. Google her to find them. Some examples are:
- Being slightly paranoid is like being slightly pregnant - it tends to get worse.
- I still believe in Hope - mostly because there's no such place as Fingers Crossed, Arkansas.
Turner/Ivins shared how she was upset the Times wouldn't let her take Shit to work and that she couldn't walk around the office without shoes. She also thought it was ridiculous that, when she was writing Elvis' obituary, she had to refer to him as "Mr. Presley" as was (and still is) the Times tradition.
While she was Smith College educated and was glad to win the prize of working for The New York Times, she was happy to head back to Texas. This is where she was born and raised and where she worked for many years for many different papers. Her favorite topic was writing about the ineptitude of the Texas legislature. A particularly funny topic in the play was when she skewered a politican for his malapropisms. One that I recall is "...you should not fire people but do it through 'employee nutrition'.
This play inspired me to request an inter-library loan book by Molly Ivins. It's called Molly Ivins Can't Say that, Can She? After that, I want to read a biography about her.
Ivins was a hard working and hard drinking woman. She died of breast cancer in 2007 at the age of 63. She was controversial but wanted to make people think about their most important role - that of citizen. She was, in fact, a Red Hot Patriot.
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Endings: NYC, May 2009 - April 2010
My last night. I just sat down as my cleaning and packing are done. I have more stuff than I thought. I suppose that's always the way. In spite of that, I was able to take today at a fairly leisurely pace.
I watched some morning t.v. - Today show, Regis and Kelly, a little bit of Rachel Ray - and got busy cleaning. I had to turn in my cable box today but decided to wait until after 1pm, which is when Who Wants to be a Millionaire? (or, simply Millionaire, as they seem to call it now). At 1pm, I took my last shower here. (Not packing a wet shower curtain and towel tomorrow.) I then hoofed it down to 23rd St between Park and Madison.
The cable box return was completed with ease. Only had to wait a few minutes. After that I had a fake smoothie. (Fruit juice and not actual fruit.) Had I known that's how Tossed made smoothies (buyer beware - it's at 23rd & Park) I would have skipped it. Not what I had in mind. I sipped my fake smoothie and walked over to Madison Square Park one more time. The line at the Shake Shack was immense. People were eating burgers from there; they smelled great.
Came back to the apartment to do more work. Around 5:45pm I left again and went to 31st and Lex to have dinner at Trattoria Bellvedere. I've wanted to try this charming neighborhood restaurant for awhile so it was appropriate to have it as my "last supper" tonight. I had a nice glass of Valpolicella with my filet mignon, mashed potatoes, and vegetables. It was a good, reasonably priced meal.
I walked to 29th and Broadway for my crack in a cup - Stumptown coffee. I sipped that on a very leisurely stroll back to my apartment. I snapped some pictures on my way back but who knows where my device is to download pictures to my laptop? That thing is packed away somewhere so the pictures will have to be added later.
I said goodbye to Phillip the doorman. He's sweet. He got extremely shy and almost embarrassed. I think he likes me like a man likes a woman, which is why, as much as I like him, I've always felt a tad awkward around him. He's a good man, though, and has never done or said anything inappropriate.
I got the two carts from downstairs and loaded them up with boxes. I'm all set for when the guys get here tomorrow at 9am. I hope they find a place to park easily and I hope traffic isn't bad getting out of the city. (I'm riding with them.) Those are my anxious thoughts right now but I'll let them go shortly as I can't control either concern.
Tonight's bed is the futon cushion on the floor. I stripped the bed to pack up the big comforter and I dismantled the futon. I crushed my finger in the dismantling process. Stupidly, I released the front of one side and, as I was working on releasing the front of the other side, I held up the bottom rail with my fingers underneath. When the side screw came out the whole weight of the frame that comprises the bed crushed my finger between the hardwood floor and the frame as the frame fell a foot. I was literally writhing on the floor in pain. The top knuckle of my middle finger turned blue instantly and began to swell. I put ice on it for about 10 seconds and thought, "Forget it, I'm busy." (This was all before dinner.) Tonight, my finger is very stiff and tender but I expect to survive.
I briefly contemplated going for one last walk up to Times Square to look at the theater marquees but I decided against it. I'm going to do what I haven't done much recently - read a book. I recently got Olive Kitteridge, whose author won the Pulitzer for it. I'll read a bit and then go to sleep as I feel physically and a little emotionally drained.
I watched some morning t.v. - Today show, Regis and Kelly, a little bit of Rachel Ray - and got busy cleaning. I had to turn in my cable box today but decided to wait until after 1pm, which is when Who Wants to be a Millionaire? (or, simply Millionaire, as they seem to call it now). At 1pm, I took my last shower here. (Not packing a wet shower curtain and towel tomorrow.) I then hoofed it down to 23rd St between Park and Madison.
The cable box return was completed with ease. Only had to wait a few minutes. After that I had a fake smoothie. (Fruit juice and not actual fruit.) Had I known that's how Tossed made smoothies (buyer beware - it's at 23rd & Park) I would have skipped it. Not what I had in mind. I sipped my fake smoothie and walked over to Madison Square Park one more time. The line at the Shake Shack was immense. People were eating burgers from there; they smelled great.
Came back to the apartment to do more work. Around 5:45pm I left again and went to 31st and Lex to have dinner at Trattoria Bellvedere. I've wanted to try this charming neighborhood restaurant for awhile so it was appropriate to have it as my "last supper" tonight. I had a nice glass of Valpolicella with my filet mignon, mashed potatoes, and vegetables. It was a good, reasonably priced meal.
I walked to 29th and Broadway for my crack in a cup - Stumptown coffee. I sipped that on a very leisurely stroll back to my apartment. I snapped some pictures on my way back but who knows where my device is to download pictures to my laptop? That thing is packed away somewhere so the pictures will have to be added later.
I said goodbye to Phillip the doorman. He's sweet. He got extremely shy and almost embarrassed. I think he likes me like a man likes a woman, which is why, as much as I like him, I've always felt a tad awkward around him. He's a good man, though, and has never done or said anything inappropriate.
I got the two carts from downstairs and loaded them up with boxes. I'm all set for when the guys get here tomorrow at 9am. I hope they find a place to park easily and I hope traffic isn't bad getting out of the city. (I'm riding with them.) Those are my anxious thoughts right now but I'll let them go shortly as I can't control either concern.
Tonight's bed is the futon cushion on the floor. I stripped the bed to pack up the big comforter and I dismantled the futon. I crushed my finger in the dismantling process. Stupidly, I released the front of one side and, as I was working on releasing the front of the other side, I held up the bottom rail with my fingers underneath. When the side screw came out the whole weight of the frame that comprises the bed crushed my finger between the hardwood floor and the frame as the frame fell a foot. I was literally writhing on the floor in pain. The top knuckle of my middle finger turned blue instantly and began to swell. I put ice on it for about 10 seconds and thought, "Forget it, I'm busy." (This was all before dinner.) Tonight, my finger is very stiff and tender but I expect to survive.
I briefly contemplated going for one last walk up to Times Square to look at the theater marquees but I decided against it. I'm going to do what I haven't done much recently - read a book. I recently got Olive Kitteridge, whose author won the Pulitzer for it. I'll read a bit and then go to sleep as I feel physically and a little emotionally drained.
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
The Forbes Galleries and the Museum of Sex
This is my last "resident as tourist" day as I will be packing, cleaning, and nursing my sore foot tomorrow. I didn't get out until 1pm, at which time I headed to Greenwich Village and the Forbes Galleries at 12th St and 5th Avenue. I wasn't sure about getting to the Museum of Sex, and was ambivalent about it, but I did make it there, too. Of course, there was a "chow stop" in between.
The Forbes Galleries, in the Forbes Building, are gems. And entry is free! There was a wonderful collection of boat models, a history of toy soldiers with examples from throughout the world in a series of diaoramas, precursors to the Monopoly game, and trophies. Some of the exhibits were motorized and had background music for effect. There were also interesting painting and photography galleries as well as flowers made by Cartier and costume jewelry. I spent at least 1.5 hours there, if not closer to 2.
The thing that interested me the most in the section about Monopoly was the board invented by a man named Charles B. Darrow in PA. (The first Monopoly-like board was invented by a woman!) I liked this board because it had names of all Pennsylvania towns - like Ambler, Boyerstown, Lansdale, Pottstown, and Reading, to name a few.
Darrow sold many copies of his game during the Depression. The instructions he provided with it had his name and address at the bottom. Since I once lived in West Mt. Airy, it was neat to see his address as 40 Westview St (I don't recognize that street name) in "Mt. Airy, Phila, PA."
Darrow, unable to keep up with demand, tried to sell this idea to Parker Brothers in 1933 but was rejected. Parker Brothers had a change of heart in 1934 and the rest is history.
(Click on the picture one or two times to enlarge it. You may have to click your Back button to come back to the blog.)
The photo and painting galleries have revolving exhibits. One of my favorite photos is this one called McLean, VA. It was taken by Joel Sternberg. Look closely - the house is on fire and there are many firemen by it. There is also one fireman buying a pumpkin! Would love to know the story behind this!
I want this painting, badly. It's called Something to Read by Vincent Giarrano. It's available from the Grenning Gallery...for $2,500. Ugh. I just can't justify it in my head. I checked the gallery's website and saw some other great paintings by Giarrano. His works look like photographs; the detail is amazing. This woman, for example, has red-painted toenails.
I really love this next one, too, which also looks like a photograph. (I don't feel like I need to own this one.) This is called Elizabeth Shea by Mikel Glass. His work is going to be shown at the Brandywine River Museum in Chadds Ford, PA from 9/11 - 4/18/10. I've marked my calendar so I can go see the show.
I enjoyed this next one as it reminds me of my experience - sneaking some reading time in on the way to work. It's called Ontario by artist Paul Fenniak.
Earlier, as I typed this, the sun was setting and casting its last rays of the day on the buildings near the East River. I've seen many of these sunsets from my futon perch. I hope to see one more tomorrow night.
The Forbes Galleries, in the Forbes Building, are gems. And entry is free! There was a wonderful collection of boat models, a history of toy soldiers with examples from throughout the world in a series of diaoramas, precursors to the Monopoly game, and trophies. Some of the exhibits were motorized and had background music for effect. There were also interesting painting and photography galleries as well as flowers made by Cartier and costume jewelry. I spent at least 1.5 hours there, if not closer to 2.
The thing that interested me the most in the section about Monopoly was the board invented by a man named Charles B. Darrow in PA. (The first Monopoly-like board was invented by a woman!) I liked this board because it had names of all Pennsylvania towns - like Ambler, Boyerstown, Lansdale, Pottstown, and Reading, to name a few.
Darrow sold many copies of his game during the Depression. The instructions he provided with it had his name and address at the bottom. Since I once lived in West Mt. Airy, it was neat to see his address as 40 Westview St (I don't recognize that street name) in "Mt. Airy, Phila, PA."
Darrow, unable to keep up with demand, tried to sell this idea to Parker Brothers in 1933 but was rejected. Parker Brothers had a change of heart in 1934 and the rest is history.
(Click on the picture one or two times to enlarge it. You may have to click your Back button to come back to the blog.)
The photo and painting galleries have revolving exhibits. One of my favorite photos is this one called McLean, VA. It was taken by Joel Sternberg. Look closely - the house is on fire and there are many firemen by it. There is also one fireman buying a pumpkin! Would love to know the story behind this!
Another photo I enjoyed is this one by Eliot Porter, who takes many wilderness photos. This photo, called Sculptured Rock (1967), was taken in Marble Canyon, AZ.
I was so fortunate to see an exhibit ending soon called A Contemporary View of Women Reading (in honor of the publication Forbidden Fruit: A History of Women and Books in Art). This is a topic after my own heart! I liked many of the paintings but fell in love with two, shown here.I want this painting, badly. It's called Something to Read by Vincent Giarrano. It's available from the Grenning Gallery...for $2,500. Ugh. I just can't justify it in my head. I checked the gallery's website and saw some other great paintings by Giarrano. His works look like photographs; the detail is amazing. This woman, for example, has red-painted toenails.
I really love this next one, too, which also looks like a photograph. (I don't feel like I need to own this one.) This is called Elizabeth Shea by Mikel Glass. His work is going to be shown at the Brandywine River Museum in Chadds Ford, PA from 9/11 - 4/18/10. I've marked my calendar so I can go see the show.
I enjoyed this next one as it reminds me of my experience - sneaking some reading time in on the way to work. It's called Ontario by artist Paul Fenniak.
I left the gallery and noticed a place called Saigon Grill close by. I was hungry, of course, and decided to check it out. It seemed a little fancy when I walked in but they had lunch until 4pm so I had a seat. I ordered the grilled chicken bun. It was good and gave me energy for my next adventure.
I decided to walk slowly up 5th Ave. (I took the subway down and wanted more fresh air.) I passed the Museum of Sex and decided to go in. All I can say is,"Oh my!" I'll leave it at that. Suffice it to say it was very interesting. It's worth a visit...but not a "Top 10 things to do in NYC" trip.
I wandered one block east to the Ace Hotel for my Stumptown coffee fix. They don't seem to have decaf in the afternoon so I had a decaf Americano. Excellent, once again.
On my way back to my apartment I popped in the beautiful Church of the Transfiguration on 29th St. When I walked in there was a prayer service so I didn't stay. This is a sprawling building that I've passed many times and was glad to be in its peaceful presence, even just for a few moments.
As I walked back I also saw a building with a gorgeous wisteria vine. The base of the vine was so thick; it must be very old. I think this was on 30th Street (somewhere between Madison and 3rd Ave.)
After a quick stop at the Gristedes grocery store, I entered my building and said my good-byes to Francisco the doorman. He's a good man and it was always nice to see his smiling face when I got "home." I told him that.Earlier, as I typed this, the sun was setting and casting its last rays of the day on the buildings near the East River. I've seen many of these sunsets from my futon perch. I hope to see one more tomorrow night.
Beacon, NY
Yesterday's destination was to Beacon, a Hudson River town where the Dia Foundation has a museum of contemporary art. I'm not necessarily a huge fan of contemporary art, but I love land art and Dia sponsors and preserves such art. They also sponsor...um..."quirky" art that is amusing, if nothing else. While Dia was my primary destination, I had the added treat of wandering the charming Main Street of the town.
I caught the 9:45a Metro North train from Grand Central Station. The MTA sells a "get away" ticket for the train and Dia admission so I bought that for $29.50, as compared to a $26 round-trip ticket and a $10 museum admission fee. (If I had a printer, I could've gotten this "get away" ticket for 5% less.) The train ride was beautiful; the tracks hug the Hudson. I remembered doing this trip years ago when I went by train from NYC to Montreal. I didn't remember how pleasant the view was. We went under the Tappan Zee Bridge, passed a lighthouse and many sailboats, and eventually started to see mountains. One very interesting site was a castle.
The castle is very large and I didn't know anything about it until I walked through Beacon and saw pictures of it in galleries. I also looked it up on the internet when I got home. It is called Bannerman Castle and it sits on what is officially Pollepel Island but it is mostly known as Bannerman's Island. Construction on this replica of a Scottish Castle started in 1901. It was used as a storage facility for Francis (Frank) Bannerman, who was a munitions dealer. On December 28, 2009, a large portion of the castle collapsed. There is an organization that is trying to preserve it. There are also kayaking tours out to the island, which I think would be interesting.
Needless to say, I didn't need the magazine I brought for the 90-minute train ride. There was so much to see and contemplate. When I arrived in Beacon at 11:15a, I began the 10-minute walk to the museum.
The Dia Museum is in an old warehouse right on the Hudson. Walking toward the museum was a sensual experience. The tree leaves were bright green, the sun was reflecting off the water and it was warm on my face, I could hear a train in the distance, and I could smell new mulch.
Inside the museum was, well, interesting. I stayed for about 50 minutes. The museum is small but I also sped through it. I saw a big piece of what appeared to be butcher paper with a big white square painted on it. This was hung on the wall by masking tape. Ah, OK. There was a pile of broken glass. (Made me wonder what would happen if someone fell on the upright pieces.) One exhibit had string fastened from ceiling to floor such that it made a large rectangle. There were mangled up car parts. There was a Warhol section. I saw giant, metal lined holes and flourescent light exhibits. One exhibit featured drawings that appeared to be giant graph paper. There were some pieces I liked but much of it made be chuckle...silently, of course. I know it may not sound like it but I'm glad I went.
Artist: Robert Smithson. Gravel Mirrors with Cracks and Dust, 1968
(He has an outstanding land art piece called Spiral Jetty in the Great Salt Lake, Utah but this piece escapes me.)
I spent some time with this exhibit by Zoe Leonard. It is called You see I am here after all (2008). It is comprised of hundreds - possibly thousands - of Niagra Falls postcards, grouped by the same postcard type. Some fronts of the postcards have postal marks and other, presumably old postcards, have space where messages were written on the fronts. Some of these cards were from the early 1900's. I can't imagine the work it took to gather all of these and then assemble them. Maybe she wanted this to look like flowing water?
I had had enough so I walked into town. It took me about 15 minutes. The town reminded me of a larger Jim Thorpe, PA or a bigger Collingswood, NJ. I had a great, "proper" lunch at Max's on Main. (Lunch was a surf and turf skewer with pesto and cilantro on top in a bed of salad that included artichokes and avocado.) I meandered back to the train, only about a 10-minute walk as the train station-Dia Museum-town are in a big loop.
I was back in Manhattan by 4:30p. At 6p, I met my Chicago friend at the Mexican restaurant at the base of my building. We had some food and drink and said our good-byes. After we parted, I looked at the brochures I picked up about the Hudson Valley. I learned of the other charming towns on the Hudson and about a kayking trip on the Fourth of July where you kayak into the Hudson and watch the fireworks. I think I need to book that trip!
For now, I want to take advantage of my afternoon and, in spite of the foot injury I acquired yesterday (long story), I am going to hobble out for a few more adventures.
I caught the 9:45a Metro North train from Grand Central Station. The MTA sells a "get away" ticket for the train and Dia admission so I bought that for $29.50, as compared to a $26 round-trip ticket and a $10 museum admission fee. (If I had a printer, I could've gotten this "get away" ticket for 5% less.) The train ride was beautiful; the tracks hug the Hudson. I remembered doing this trip years ago when I went by train from NYC to Montreal. I didn't remember how pleasant the view was. We went under the Tappan Zee Bridge, passed a lighthouse and many sailboats, and eventually started to see mountains. One very interesting site was a castle.
The castle is very large and I didn't know anything about it until I walked through Beacon and saw pictures of it in galleries. I also looked it up on the internet when I got home. It is called Bannerman Castle and it sits on what is officially Pollepel Island but it is mostly known as Bannerman's Island. Construction on this replica of a Scottish Castle started in 1901. It was used as a storage facility for Francis (Frank) Bannerman, who was a munitions dealer. On December 28, 2009, a large portion of the castle collapsed. There is an organization that is trying to preserve it. There are also kayaking tours out to the island, which I think would be interesting.
The area between the black lines is the part that was lost from the collapse.
Needless to say, I didn't need the magazine I brought for the 90-minute train ride. There was so much to see and contemplate. When I arrived in Beacon at 11:15a, I began the 10-minute walk to the museum.
The Dia Museum is in an old warehouse right on the Hudson. Walking toward the museum was a sensual experience. The tree leaves were bright green, the sun was reflecting off the water and it was warm on my face, I could hear a train in the distance, and I could smell new mulch.
Inside the museum was, well, interesting. I stayed for about 50 minutes. The museum is small but I also sped through it. I saw a big piece of what appeared to be butcher paper with a big white square painted on it. This was hung on the wall by masking tape. Ah, OK. There was a pile of broken glass. (Made me wonder what would happen if someone fell on the upright pieces.) One exhibit had string fastened from ceiling to floor such that it made a large rectangle. There were mangled up car parts. There was a Warhol section. I saw giant, metal lined holes and flourescent light exhibits. One exhibit featured drawings that appeared to be giant graph paper. There were some pieces I liked but much of it made be chuckle...silently, of course. I know it may not sound like it but I'm glad I went.
Artist: Robert Smithson. Gravel Mirrors with Cracks and Dust, 1968
(He has an outstanding land art piece called Spiral Jetty in the Great Salt Lake, Utah but this piece escapes me.)
I spent some time with this exhibit by Zoe Leonard. It is called You see I am here after all (2008). It is comprised of hundreds - possibly thousands - of Niagra Falls postcards, grouped by the same postcard type. Some fronts of the postcards have postal marks and other, presumably old postcards, have space where messages were written on the fronts. Some of these cards were from the early 1900's. I can't imagine the work it took to gather all of these and then assemble them. Maybe she wanted this to look like flowing water?
I had had enough so I walked into town. It took me about 15 minutes. The town reminded me of a larger Jim Thorpe, PA or a bigger Collingswood, NJ. I had a great, "proper" lunch at Max's on Main. (Lunch was a surf and turf skewer with pesto and cilantro on top in a bed of salad that included artichokes and avocado.) I meandered back to the train, only about a 10-minute walk as the train station-Dia Museum-town are in a big loop.
I was back in Manhattan by 4:30p. At 6p, I met my Chicago friend at the Mexican restaurant at the base of my building. We had some food and drink and said our good-byes. After we parted, I looked at the brochures I picked up about the Hudson Valley. I learned of the other charming towns on the Hudson and about a kayking trip on the Fourth of July where you kayak into the Hudson and watch the fireworks. I think I need to book that trip!
For now, I want to take advantage of my afternoon and, in spite of the foot injury I acquired yesterday (long story), I am going to hobble out for a few more adventures.
Sunday, April 11, 2010
Williamsburg, Brooklyn and the Brooklyn Brewery
From yesterday's wanderings I knew I liked Brooklyn a lot. After today, I think I may love it. It feels more real to me and my experiences. It's not about youth and fashion and glamour. It's about gritty and hard-working and creative and anti-Madison Avenue.
Williamsburg reminds me of what South Street in Philadelphia was like 20-25 years ago. Somewhat marginalized, a little on the edge, a place where artists and others not in the corporate world went for reasonable rents and spaces to create. This is Williamsburg...probably for another week.
I wandered around Bedford, 6th, and 7th and saw just one chain store - a dreaded Subway. All the other stores were unique and the restaurants seemed inexpensive. There were gay men and "geeks" and "hipsters." I even saw one mohawk. There were many young people dressed in vintage clothes, and there were vintage clothing stores and sidewalk sales in quite a few places. But I am getting ahead of myself.
I took the 6 train to the L train and stopped at the first stop in Brooklyn, Bedford Ave. (Just this location alone - such an easy commute to Manhattan - surely will seal the eventual fate of this community.) I was heading toward the Brooklyn Brewery.
I had seen signs in Manhattan stores and bars advertising this beer but I had never tried it. I wanted to learn more about it. As I walked to the brewery on 11th St, I passed unlikely combinations of a boarded-up, razor-wired building next to a fancy gallery. There were also old warehouses everywhere.
The bouncer at the brewery told me that 5 years ago no one would walk in this neighborhood during the day. It didn't seem scary now but it was certainly "raw." He said how much the neighborhood had changed and is continuing to change.
I did a brief tour at the brewery and then had a Weise beer. It was good. The lager I sampled was pretty good, too. But I was more interested in getting back out to the street and exploring.
The brewery cat, who greeted me from the bags of barley when I entered, looked to be ancient. He was less of a guard cat when I left, however, because someone gave him a bit of hot dog.
Williamsburg reminds me of what South Street in Philadelphia was like 20-25 years ago. Somewhat marginalized, a little on the edge, a place where artists and others not in the corporate world went for reasonable rents and spaces to create. This is Williamsburg...probably for another week.
I wandered around Bedford, 6th, and 7th and saw just one chain store - a dreaded Subway. All the other stores were unique and the restaurants seemed inexpensive. There were gay men and "geeks" and "hipsters." I even saw one mohawk. There were many young people dressed in vintage clothes, and there were vintage clothing stores and sidewalk sales in quite a few places. But I am getting ahead of myself.
I took the 6 train to the L train and stopped at the first stop in Brooklyn, Bedford Ave. (Just this location alone - such an easy commute to Manhattan - surely will seal the eventual fate of this community.) I was heading toward the Brooklyn Brewery.
I had seen signs in Manhattan stores and bars advertising this beer but I had never tried it. I wanted to learn more about it. As I walked to the brewery on 11th St, I passed unlikely combinations of a boarded-up, razor-wired building next to a fancy gallery. There were also old warehouses everywhere.
The bouncer at the brewery told me that 5 years ago no one would walk in this neighborhood during the day. It didn't seem scary now but it was certainly "raw." He said how much the neighborhood had changed and is continuing to change.
I did a brief tour at the brewery and then had a Weise beer. It was good. The lager I sampled was pretty good, too. But I was more interested in getting back out to the street and exploring.
The brewery cat, who greeted me from the bags of barley when I entered, looked to be ancient. He was less of a guard cat when I left, however, because someone gave him a bit of hot dog.
I probably walked for another 30-40 minutes. The neighborhood was alive with energy. I couldn't help to wonder how "yuppified" it would become in a few years...especially after I passed a wine bar and a brick-oven pizzeria. I also saw sites where "luxury condos" were "coming soon. Change is coming....
In the meantime, this little guy was enjoying himself in the sun. I later heard a couple talking about t"he French" that hangs out in the window and looks at people. I'm honored to have encountered this neighborhood celebrity. He was just one other thing I love about Brooklyn.
Russian Orthodox Church in the neighborhood
Saturday, April 10, 2010
Brooklyn: Prospect Park and Brooklyn Heights & then the West Village
This was a day to wander without deadlines or detailed itineraries. Just this morning, we decided to head over to Brooklyn. First stop: Prospect Park. Second stop: Unknown.
We took the 2/3 train to the Grand Army Plaza stop. Here we saw the 1892 Soldiers' and Sailors' Memorial Arch honoring Union veterans of the Civil War. It was neat to see an African-American included in this old memorial.
There was a farmers' market very near the arch so we meandered there for awhile. We also had fun listening to The Calamity Janes (a band playing Appalachian music) singing Mama's Little Baby (loves shortnin', shortnin' bread). It made us want to break out in some sort of dance.
We wondered just a little into the actual park. It's very large and it's also home to the Brooklyn Botanical Garden. The garden is in the northern part of the park so we didn't see it in the distance. We traced our steps back and wandered into the neighborhood in search of lunch.
We didn't see much in the way of a business neighborhood so we had to ask. We were told to head down Sterling and make a right on Vanderbilt so that's what we did. It was a pleasant walk; we passed Brooklyn brownstones, some of which had historical plaques from the 1800's.
There were several food choices on Vanderbilt but I'm glad we bypassed several until we stumbled upon Le Gamin
in the Prospect Heights neighborhood. (I learned later via the internet that there is an East Village location.) It was a charming yet gritty cafe with a nice outdoor patio. (It was a little too chilly for us so we sat indoors.)
The cafe was busy and populated with a diverse crowd - gay and straight, young and old, and mixed race couples. (We watched an older couple polish off two bottles of white wine with a bowl of mussels and two orders of eggs benedict.) We both loved the atmosphere. We each had soup and salad, both of which were fine but the lentil and white bean pureed soup needed a little something to make it great.
After lunch we decided to jump back on the 2/3 train and head a few stops west to the Clark Street stop. We were heading into Brooklyn Heights. In Brooklyn Heights, we walked to the "main drag" (per our Frommer's guide) of Montague Street. We stopped at a craft fair (where I bought a book cover) and just strolled and took in the sights. We wound up down on the Brooklyn Promenade where we enjoyed views of the Brooklyn Bridge and Manhattan.
We hoped to catch a water taxi over to the West Village. According to the signs, the taxi was running. We waited past the allotted time, as did many people, but it never showed up. We decided to walk back into Brooklyn to get back on the subway. In retrospect, we probably should have just walked across the Brooklyn Bridge and caught a subway there. This is because we wandered for probably 30 minutes looking for the subway on the Brooklyn side. We found some folks who guided us but realized they gave us the wrong directions. They continued to walk with us and eventually we found the subway and were on our way to the West Village.
In the West Village, we stopped for a drink and then had dinner at a pub. After that, we walked around and enjoyed the nonsensical streets and people-watching. While, for much of the day, we didn't know where we were heading, we knew at this time that we were ready to head back to my apartment for some rest after a very fulfilling day.
We took the 2/3 train to the Grand Army Plaza stop. Here we saw the 1892 Soldiers' and Sailors' Memorial Arch honoring Union veterans of the Civil War. It was neat to see an African-American included in this old memorial.
There was a farmers' market very near the arch so we meandered there for awhile. We also had fun listening to The Calamity Janes (a band playing Appalachian music) singing Mama's Little Baby (loves shortnin', shortnin' bread). It made us want to break out in some sort of dance.
We wondered just a little into the actual park. It's very large and it's also home to the Brooklyn Botanical Garden. The garden is in the northern part of the park so we didn't see it in the distance. We traced our steps back and wandered into the neighborhood in search of lunch.
We didn't see much in the way of a business neighborhood so we had to ask. We were told to head down Sterling and make a right on Vanderbilt so that's what we did. It was a pleasant walk; we passed Brooklyn brownstones, some of which had historical plaques from the 1800's.
There were several food choices on Vanderbilt but I'm glad we bypassed several until we stumbled upon Le Gamin
in the Prospect Heights neighborhood. (I learned later via the internet that there is an East Village location.) It was a charming yet gritty cafe with a nice outdoor patio. (It was a little too chilly for us so we sat indoors.)
The cafe was busy and populated with a diverse crowd - gay and straight, young and old, and mixed race couples. (We watched an older couple polish off two bottles of white wine with a bowl of mussels and two orders of eggs benedict.) We both loved the atmosphere. We each had soup and salad, both of which were fine but the lentil and white bean pureed soup needed a little something to make it great.
After lunch we decided to jump back on the 2/3 train and head a few stops west to the Clark Street stop. We were heading into Brooklyn Heights. In Brooklyn Heights, we walked to the "main drag" (per our Frommer's guide) of Montague Street. We stopped at a craft fair (where I bought a book cover) and just strolled and took in the sights. We wound up down on the Brooklyn Promenade where we enjoyed views of the Brooklyn Bridge and Manhattan.
We hoped to catch a water taxi over to the West Village. According to the signs, the taxi was running. We waited past the allotted time, as did many people, but it never showed up. We decided to walk back into Brooklyn to get back on the subway. In retrospect, we probably should have just walked across the Brooklyn Bridge and caught a subway there. This is because we wandered for probably 30 minutes looking for the subway on the Brooklyn side. We found some folks who guided us but realized they gave us the wrong directions. They continued to walk with us and eventually we found the subway and were on our way to the West Village.
In the West Village, we stopped for a drink and then had dinner at a pub. After that, we walked around and enjoyed the nonsensical streets and people-watching. While, for much of the day, we didn't know where we were heading, we knew at this time that we were ready to head back to my apartment for some rest after a very fulfilling day.
Friday, April 9, 2010
Metropolitan Museum of Art
In all the years I've come to NYC and the year I lived here, I have never been to the Met. I made sure to correct this today. My partner arrived at 4pm and we headed uptown since the museum was opened until 9pm. The museum is vast and the collections are overwhelming. It would certainly make sense to be a member...for NYC residents or frequent travellers to the city...so it could be digested in chunks.
What is interesting to me is that I noticed her lyre was missing two strings (and therefore had only two) when we saw her tonight. This picture depicts four of them. I'm now wondering what happened to this statue. Maybe they were removed for a reason?
A special exhibit with the musical instruments of Oceania (the Pacific Islands and surrounding areas) was fascinating. Some of the instruments are as large as canoes! The one depicted here is from Papua, New Guinea from the 19th or early 20th century. It is called a slit gong and is 12 feet, 8 inches long. According to the Met website,
Another interesting special exhibit (there through May 23, 2010) was The Mourners: Medieval Tomb Sculptures from the Court of Burgundy. These dozens of statuettes were so expressive. Some wiped tears from their eyes, others held arms to their heads while others held their heads low. They were beautiful and each was unique. We were lucky to have seen them. According to the Met website,
We also saw some beautiful Louis Comfort Tiffany murals and columns. It wasn't until about an hour later, during a tour, that I had a "duh!" moment regarding this artwork. During the tour, a French tourist asked "What Tiffany?" when we walked by this area. It was only then that I learned that Louis Comfort was related to the Tiffany of jewelry fame. Because he grew up in the presence of emeralds, rubies, and other colorful stones, he later incorporated color into his work because he thought NYC was too gray. The Tiffany columns we saw in the museum were actually installed in Louis Comfort Tiffany's shore home in Long Island. Must have been like something out of The Great Gatsby!
After we looked around for awhile, we circled back to the entrance, the Great Hall, for a 6:30 Musuem Highlights tour. It was a whirlwind, hour tour.
The first stop we made on the tour was this Statue of Eros Sleeping (3rd century b.c.–early 1st century a.d.). The guide explained that to the Greeks he was known as Eros and to the Romans he was known as Cupid. (I hope I'm remembering that correctly, but it seems to make sense.) The back of the statue displayed finely detailed feathers in his wings and curls one could seemingly run fingers through.
The unique thing about this piece is that it is "one of the few bronze statues to have survived from antiquity" (Met website). The guide explained that this is because bronze was often melted down during wars to be used in weaponry. Maybe this little guy looked so peaceful that no one wanted to disturb him.
We saw a commode (a chest of drawers, not a toilet) that belonged to Marie Antoinette. I really enjoyed that, instead of just being plopped down with a sign to describe it, it was staged in a Parisian apartment overlooking the Seine. (One had to imagine the river behind the backlit curtain sheers). It was very well done.
We saw a contemporary art exhibit by Damien Hirst - a shark in formaldehyde. At first glance this just seemed bizarre. The tour guide was good, however, it that she got us to walk around the exhibit. In doing so, we saw that, at times, there was the illusion of two and somethimes even three sharks in the tank. I read in an old New York Times article that the original shark disintegrated. Guess the formaldehyde doesn't keep it forever.
Ironically, one or two days ago, there was a question on Who Wants to be a Millionaire? about "What artist dissects animals for art displays?" Of the four choices, the only artist I knew was Cy Twombly, and I knew it wasn't him. One of the other choices was Damien Hirst! I won't forget him now, even if he didn't dissect this shark. (Apparently he has artwork with dissected cows and other farm animals.) But I digress...
In this general exhibit area we saw a Jackson Pollack and the tour guide spent some time talking about him and the particular work with just one, ever-so-slight drop of red paint. "Planned or accidental?" she speculated. No one knows.
We left contemporary art to go to the Old Masters - quite a transition! We saw a haunting self-portrait of Rembrandt. (I never knew that was just a first name, or maybe I never thought about it. His name was Rembrandt van Rijn.) Rembrandt painted this at age 54 in 1660. He died 9 years later.
As was the case with the shark, the tour guide made us walk from one side of this portrait to the other. His eyes seemed to absolutely be following our paces. The guide explained this was done by painting an asymmetrical face. She went on to explain what most people can see in the mirror by middle age - our faces are not symmetrical. I found that painting technique interesting. Upon closer inspection of the portait, the different features on each side of the face were obvious.
We walked from the Old Masters to an Egyptian temple. Remarkably, The Temple of Dendur was given to the United States by the Egyptian government in 1965 and awarded to the Met two years later. This, and many other temples, were completely flooded by the construction of the Aswan Dam in Egypt. Because the United States helped save many of these submerged temples, Egypt gifted the US this one from 15 b.c. It's condition is remarkable, as are the inscriptions in the stone.
We saw more sights during the tour, but I wanted to circle back after the tour was over to see the Frank Lloyd Wright period room that our tour guide simply pointed to when we went passed it. It was...well...very Frank Lloyd Wright-ish. (He has a notable signature.) This is the actual living room, complete with furniture, from the Little House Wright designed in Wayzata, Minnesota, 1912–14.
After our tour we were quite hungry so we headed back downtown on the 6 train for a late dinner. We stopped for dinner at Hudson Place on 3rd Avenue around 36th. The atmosphere was nice and the food was good. After dinner we headed for sleep...with visions of centuries of artwork dancing in our heads.
We walked around the first floor for about an hour. There was literally so much to see we just took the "stroll by" approach and stopped if something grabbed our attention. We were intrigued by the Greek and Roman statues - so old! We commented how they made us realize what specks in time our lives are.
In the distance we both noticed a slumped over statue who looked tired. We joked that's how both of us looked at times. When we approached it, we saw that it was Sappho by Comte Prosper d'Épinay. I couldn't find this statue on the Met's website, but I found a picture on the web. She looked very masculine in some ways (very short hair) but was obviously a woman in terms of dress and figure. What is interesting to me is that I noticed her lyre was missing two strings (and therefore had only two) when we saw her tonight. This picture depicts four of them. I'm now wondering what happened to this statue. Maybe they were removed for a reason?
A special exhibit with the musical instruments of Oceania (the Pacific Islands and surrounding areas) was fascinating. Some of the instruments are as large as canoes! The one depicted here is from Papua, New Guinea from the 19th or early 20th century. It is called a slit gong and is 12 feet, 8 inches long. According to the Met website,
In many parts of New Guinea, the sounds produced by certain types of musical instruments, played during ceremonies, are said to be the voices of supernatural beings. Among the Iatmul and other Sepik peoples, the most important musical instruments were sacred flutes and slit gongs. The gongs were carved from massive logs that were hollowed out to create a resonating chamber with a narrow, slit-like aperture. Musicians produced a deep, sonorous tone by striking the edges of the gongs with wood beaters. The ends of Iatmul slit gongs are typically embellished, as in this example, with ornate finials depicting totemic animals or other clan emblems, while the sides of many examples are adorned with geometric carvings.There were dozens of such interesting instruments.
Another interesting special exhibit (there through May 23, 2010) was The Mourners: Medieval Tomb Sculptures from the Court of Burgundy. These dozens of statuettes were so expressive. Some wiped tears from their eyes, others held arms to their heads while others held their heads low. They were beautiful and each was unique. We were lucky to have seen them. According to the Met website,
The renovation of the Musée des Beaux-Arts in Dijon provides an opportunity for the unprecedented loan of the alabaster mourner figures from the tomb of John the Fearless, Duke of Burgundy, and his wife, Margaret of Bavaria. Each of the statuettes is approximately sixteen inches high. They were carved by Jean de La Huerta and Antoine Le Moiturier between 1443–1456 for the ducal tomb originally in the church of Champmol, and they follow the precedent of the mourner figures carved by Claus Sluter and colleagues for the tomb of Duke Philip the Bold (1342–1404). The tombs are celebrated as among the most sumptuous and innovative of the late Middle Ages. The primary innovation was the space given to the figures of the grieving mourners on the base of the tomb, who seem to pass through the real arcades of a cloister.We also enjoyed the armor collection. It's almost unbelievable that people used these. They are truly works of art, and seem heavy! The Met website debunks this last comment.
An entire suit of field armor (that is, armor for battle) usually weighs between 45 and 55 lbs. (20 to 25 kg), with the helmet weighing between 4 and 8 lbs. (2 to 4 kg)—less than the full equipment of a fireman with oxygen gear, or what most modern soldiers have carried into battle since the nineteenth century.There was a very rotund suit of armor and we learned that was for one of the King Henrys near the end of his life. There were also suits of armor representing different cultures. It was interesting to be able to see all of the styles in close proximity and make cultural comparisons.
We also saw some beautiful Louis Comfort Tiffany murals and columns. It wasn't until about an hour later, during a tour, that I had a "duh!" moment regarding this artwork. During the tour, a French tourist asked "What Tiffany?" when we walked by this area. It was only then that I learned that Louis Comfort was related to the Tiffany of jewelry fame. Because he grew up in the presence of emeralds, rubies, and other colorful stones, he later incorporated color into his work because he thought NYC was too gray. The Tiffany columns we saw in the museum were actually installed in Louis Comfort Tiffany's shore home in Long Island. Must have been like something out of The Great Gatsby!
After we looked around for awhile, we circled back to the entrance, the Great Hall, for a 6:30 Musuem Highlights tour. It was a whirlwind, hour tour.
The first stop we made on the tour was this Statue of Eros Sleeping (3rd century b.c.–early 1st century a.d.). The guide explained that to the Greeks he was known as Eros and to the Romans he was known as Cupid. (I hope I'm remembering that correctly, but it seems to make sense.) The back of the statue displayed finely detailed feathers in his wings and curls one could seemingly run fingers through.
The unique thing about this piece is that it is "one of the few bronze statues to have survived from antiquity" (Met website). The guide explained that this is because bronze was often melted down during wars to be used in weaponry. Maybe this little guy looked so peaceful that no one wanted to disturb him.
We saw a commode (a chest of drawers, not a toilet) that belonged to Marie Antoinette. I really enjoyed that, instead of just being plopped down with a sign to describe it, it was staged in a Parisian apartment overlooking the Seine. (One had to imagine the river behind the backlit curtain sheers). It was very well done.
We saw a contemporary art exhibit by Damien Hirst - a shark in formaldehyde. At first glance this just seemed bizarre. The tour guide was good, however, it that she got us to walk around the exhibit. In doing so, we saw that, at times, there was the illusion of two and somethimes even three sharks in the tank. I read in an old New York Times article that the original shark disintegrated. Guess the formaldehyde doesn't keep it forever.
Ironically, one or two days ago, there was a question on Who Wants to be a Millionaire? about "What artist dissects animals for art displays?" Of the four choices, the only artist I knew was Cy Twombly, and I knew it wasn't him. One of the other choices was Damien Hirst! I won't forget him now, even if he didn't dissect this shark. (Apparently he has artwork with dissected cows and other farm animals.) But I digress...
In this general exhibit area we saw a Jackson Pollack and the tour guide spent some time talking about him and the particular work with just one, ever-so-slight drop of red paint. "Planned or accidental?" she speculated. No one knows.
We left contemporary art to go to the Old Masters - quite a transition! We saw a haunting self-portrait of Rembrandt. (I never knew that was just a first name, or maybe I never thought about it. His name was Rembrandt van Rijn.) Rembrandt painted this at age 54 in 1660. He died 9 years later.
As was the case with the shark, the tour guide made us walk from one side of this portrait to the other. His eyes seemed to absolutely be following our paces. The guide explained this was done by painting an asymmetrical face. She went on to explain what most people can see in the mirror by middle age - our faces are not symmetrical. I found that painting technique interesting. Upon closer inspection of the portait, the different features on each side of the face were obvious.
We walked from the Old Masters to an Egyptian temple. Remarkably, The Temple of Dendur was given to the United States by the Egyptian government in 1965 and awarded to the Met two years later. This, and many other temples, were completely flooded by the construction of the Aswan Dam in Egypt. Because the United States helped save many of these submerged temples, Egypt gifted the US this one from 15 b.c. It's condition is remarkable, as are the inscriptions in the stone.
We saw more sights during the tour, but I wanted to circle back after the tour was over to see the Frank Lloyd Wright period room that our tour guide simply pointed to when we went passed it. It was...well...very Frank Lloyd Wright-ish. (He has a notable signature.) This is the actual living room, complete with furniture, from the Little House Wright designed in Wayzata, Minnesota, 1912–14.
After our tour we were quite hungry so we headed back downtown on the 6 train for a late dinner. We stopped for dinner at Hudson Place on 3rd Avenue around 36th. The atmosphere was nice and the food was good. After dinner we headed for sleep...with visions of centuries of artwork dancing in our heads.
Thursday, April 8, 2010
Dinner in Newark
Dinner with my old high school buddy, whom I haven't seen in probably 12 years, was good. (Well, seeing her was. The restaurant, whose name I already forget, was overpriced and the food was just OK.) It was so nice to see her. She works hard and is making a big difference for the community health needs in Newark. I'm proud of her and honored to call her a friend.
There are Naked Men near Madison Square Park
There are actually 31 naked men in and around Madison Square Park. Some are on the ground, but most are peering from buidlings like city guardians.
These men can be viewed from March 26 through August 15, 2010. A map of where they are located is available online. The men are the work of British artist Antony Gormley who, with this exhibit, makes his first American public art debut. (His work has been shown in museums here in the past.) His website shows other interesting things he has done with various versions of these men, including hanging them upside down by their feet and positioning them knee-deep in water.
Looking for these men was like a fun game of "Where's Waldo?" as I didn't rely too much on the map to find them. As I was looking for them, I sipped a cup of Stumptown coffee (still enraptured by it) and snapped some pictures.
These sculptures, made of iron and fiberglass, are tall (about 6 feet) and (obviously) anatomically correct, perhaps with the exceptions of strange nipples and circles on the thighs.
Most people ignored them but there were some people photographing them.
I first heard about these men on the local news in early March. There was some controversy surrounding them as they were going to be placed on ledges of buildings. Police were concerned that they would receive a lot of 911 calls from people reporting "jumpers." I suppose all the local news channels announced this art installation as a public service announcement to help the police and prevent people from being alarmed.
You can see how someone could confuse a statue for a "jumper." This statue (left picture) is on the Empire State Buidling. Sadly, and ironically, this statue was in place when a Yale college student from Austin, Texas took his life at the end of March by jumping from the 86th Floor of the Empire State Building. (He landed on 34th Street sometime between 6 - 6:30pm. It's miraculous he didn't kill someone on the ground.) Below, there are several other pictures of these men on ledges.
From my "Where's Waldo?" exercise I headed down to The Strand (around 12th and Broadway), the bookstore that advertises "18 miles of books." I've spent a good deal of time there - it has great variety and even better prices. Lately I've only given myself permission to buy books if I can't get them from the library. I was good about this all winter so I treated myself by buying a book I know my library has. I also bought several children's books for summer birthdays. Finally, I purchased myself a coffee mug so I could use it at work in Philadelphia as a pleasant reminder of one of my favorite NYC haunts. (This will sit on my desk nicely with my Highline water bottle.)
At this exact time next week I will be back in PA. This makes me feel like I should be out and about right now but, the fact is, I'm tired and hot. I came back to my apartment and turned the air on. This is a luxury I didn't often engage in in the past but this is my swan song so why not? Plus, I'm going to Newark on the 4:45 train tonight to meet a friend for dinner. This eases my mind about being in the apartment now - I figure "At least I'm going out later." Hopefully, I won't be seeing any naked men in Newark.
I know this one is hard to see but I like the architecture.
There are two men are in this picture. Can you see them?
There are two men are in this picture. Do you see both?
An arrow points to this one, although he's a little lost in the shadows.
Look at the top right of the building.
There is a man on either side of Empire State Building.
Look on the right of the lower buidling
Look just above the pink flowers. He's heading to the Flatiron building, or just missed the bus.
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