The Upper East Side has a very different feel to it than places like… say Chelsea or Soho or the Village. Its tree-lined streets, beautiful brownstones, garden-top balconies and chic designer boutiques speak volumes about the wealth of the local community. I have no idea what a brownstone would cost in this kind of place but I’m sure it has many zeros attached. And of course the streets are famous themselves, Fifth Avenue, Madison Avenue, Park Avenue and Lexington have seeped into our collective unconscious as places of influence and wealth. I wonder what it would be like to say, “Yeah, come on up - I just live above the Prada store on such and such street.” He he. Of course if I could afford to live above the Prada store I could probably afford to shop at the Prada store too.
But I digress…
Across the street from Central Park in the Upper East Side, nestled within its own private gates, lies the Frick Collection. It is a gorgeous white brick building and the gardens, complete with lilies, lotus and koi, combined to create a bubble of quiet in an otherwise busy and noisy section of town. The building was the actual private home of Mr. Henry Clay Frick, a coke and steel industrialist who lived from 1849 - 1919, and houses the collection of art he was able to acquire over his lifetime. The museum attempts to maintain this ambience of a private home instead of a museum and walking through it is like walking through a series of fully furnished rooms with books, antique furniture, sculpture and just stunning paintings. They are so close and so accessible that there are no children allowed, which is why it is so nice that my mom was willing to babysit. Unfortunately, the Frick also doesn’t allow cameras, but they do have an amazing virtual tour online and you can see each room 360 degrees and then click on the paintings to get a better look and a description. My favorites are the three (yes, THREE!!) Vermeers side by side in the South Hall, the above portrait by Ingres, which has some interesting backstory about the artist being in love with the Comtesse (an outspoken woman of her time apparently), and two massive seascapes by J.M.W. Turner, the same fellow featured at the Met this season. The Turners in particular are enormous and their sheer size makes them absolutely stunning to behold in person.
Thanks Genevieve for recommending this particular place. We really enjoyed the visit.
I wish I could go to this while we are here. In any case, it’s nice to hear that the art market is only nominally slowing despite the recent downturn in the economy. I wonder if this will last or if it is just a long lag. Maybe the kind of person who buys a Matisse or a Wyeth is relatively immune to such bumps and wiggles in the market??
My mom arrived last Friday morning and has been entertaining Asher non-stop since then. It is so great to have her here!! My mom is just an awesome adventure woman - the first to jump into the lake kind of person - first down the river in kayak and you have to go fast to keep up with her kind of person. Unfortunately, her first day out with us was by far the most difficult and stressful day I’ve had here so far and after talking up how cool NYC is, I felt like a bit of a liar. For one thing it is bloody hot. When the mercury crosses the 90F line, the heat and humidity start feeling exponentially more intense. A wait in the subway is a little bit like walking into a steam room - you end up feeling like someone has draped a soggy warm towel over your shoulders. The trains and buses do have air conditioning, but have a hard time keeping up in this kind of heat. (Earlier this week the forecast said it would rain today and cool off a bit, but when I woke up this morning that had changed and now it’s hot and sunny. Argh!) We spent some time sweltering in Central Park before deciding to hide out at the Museum of Natural History. The Museum was really, really cool, literally thank heaven and figuratively as well. It’s the kind of place you could wander for a long time and not see the same thing twice. I think our favorite spot was the Hall of Ocean Life, which has a giant whale suspended from the ceiling. They have some really amazing displays of different creatures and giant trees well-described ocean phyla. It was pretty dark but I did get a few good pictures. The lobby for the museum is vast and has some impressive murals and of course the dinosaur fossil arrangement made famous by “Night At the Museum” - a great movie. The walls feature several quotes from Theodore Roosevelt, and as I read each one I thought it likely that he had composed these speeches himself and that it’s sad that our current statesmen don’t have to write their own dialogue as well. It might make it easier to sort through political candidates and find men and women of real insight as opposed to those supported by a massive media-savvy staff. I took pictures of them and included my favorites on ‘Conservation’ and ‘Youth’ in the slideshow but you’ll have to pause it to read them.
Last night my mom was kind enough to take care of Asher so Bryan and I could visit the Frick Collection, which doesn’t allow children (I’ll write about that later), and see our first Broadway show. I’ve been to plays and operas and classical recitals, but never a ’show’ before, so I was curious to see if I’m a ’show’-person. I didn’t recognize many of the listings, but a few years ago I heard John Cleese on NPR doing a bit for Spamalot so we opted for that. Let’s just say it was even sillier than the movie if you can believe that is possible. It incorporates the plot of Monty Python’s The Holy Grail and adds some Broadway glitz and glam. Many of the funniest bits were simply making fun of the over-production of musicals themselves, while at the same time being massively over-produced, over-acted and overdone. Very, very silly stuff, but entertaining and we had a really good time. Has anyone seen any musicals that are really well-produced, well-acted, not overdone, and maybe even serious that they might recommend?
Somewhere in there we also found a swimming pool and had lunch with my good friend Patrick, an artist and fellow Salt Lake City resident, who’d flown out to New York just to see me… uhhh…. and take in a Broadway show, and shop, and see concerts… and, well, we did get to have lunch. Go visit him at the Jagged Edge sometime!
Asher playing with Sooki in the other room. Air conditioning blowing gently across the couch to offset the oven outside and the smokin’ laptop in here. NyQuil taking the edge off the boogeys. iTunes, iPhone, Pandora and some bass-lovin’ headphones. Oh yeah… I’m happy.
P.S. Courtesy of Gizmodo, these recreations of famous photos using legos are so cool. This would be a fun in-class activity Melo - although with funner/lighter photos. These political ones might be meaningless to third graders.
Late Tuesday night my throat started to tickle. Somewhere on fifth avenue that day I picked up what I’m postive could be described as a genuine New York City subterranean superbug that has taken up residence in my head and laid me low for the last day or so. We have been so vigilant with the hand washing, had wipes and anti-bacterial tubes, but the odds were against our virgin Utah immune systems. Luckily Asher and Bryan haven’t caught it yet, and I’m feeling much better this morning. If I take it really easy I’m sure it’ll be gone by tomorrow (famous last words).
In the meantime, I took a little audio sample of the subway the other day. Often there are performers and although I’ve been in the same station many times I’ve never seen the same performer twice. It makes me think that they must be organized somehow - maybe they have to sign up for times and places and rotate through. Some people just sing accompanied by a stereo. More often they play an instrument - guitar or drums, a flute and, for this demo, a violin. Most of what I’ve heard has been really great and entertaining, but I don’t think they make very much money. So try to imagine this setting: A crowded subway platform, people of all different varieties waiting for their train, lots of racket, trash is everywhere, everything is a little bit grimy, and it’s hot as an oven. Then someone is playing Pachelbel’s Canon over it all, mixed with the noise of arriving and departing trains. My little audio recorder was so overwhelmed by the train noise that it seems to translate into no sound at all, so that’s what is happening about one minute into the recording. It’s not the best rendering ever, but man, that guy was trying and in that setting it would be so hard to focus. I wonder if he’s in training and his musical sensei sent him to the subway to practice, work on maintaining focus and also work on performance anxiety. Seems like a good way to do it. Enjoy!
Today is my birthday… not sure what Asher and I will do to have fun today, but we’ll find something cool. Some thoughts on this particular birthday:
it is a nice, even, lucky-sounding number
it is twice as long as I wished to live when I was a pre-teen
I’ve now been driving longer than I have not
I had pneumonia last year (and ODEs… *shudder*) so I actually feel younger this time around
I don’t expect that trend to continue unfortunately :)
when trying to explain how old we were to Asher, he said, “That freaks my heart out.” Mine too babe… mine too.
My birthday wish for the day is simply to talk to or hear from YOU if possible. I know you’re all very, very busy, but if you read this and have a moment, please leave a comment or give me a call. I promise not to keep you on the line forever. I’d really love that - it would be the best present ever! Thanks!
Staten Island!!! Not Systeme Internationale… sheesh! Too much engineering.
Bryan had to attend a make-up art class on Saturday (to cover the July 4th holiday) so we didn’t do very much except play at Central Park. After the class we had dinner with a couple of the other students who are leaving this part of the workshop to say goodbye. Really nice group of people and I hope we stay in touch. I know how much Bryan is enjoying the company of other students and instructors who take art and technique as seriously as he does. I don’t know what to say about when we go back home, except that he should try to keep in touch with as many of the people he’s met here as he can. For a wrap-up on the drawing portion of the intensive be sure to visit Bryan’s blog. Now the painting portion can begin. It’s only two weeks, which hardly seems like enough time to paint anything decent, but I guess the point is to learn the ‘how-tos’ and then take that home and try again. This part of the class is taught by Douglas Flynt. So far I hear it’s going well.
Sunday we made a nice leisurely trip on the Staten Island Ferry (slideshow). It was beautiful and balmy weather, a nice sea breeze blowing, and the view of the statue of liberty was inspiring. She was lit up from behind by the setting sun. The ferry trip itself was really exciting for Asher, who has been asking to go on a boat since we arrived here three weeks ago. At first he was really nervous about it and kept his fingers in his ears, but after a while he seemed to loosen up and enjoy himself. We stopped for dinner at a little hole-in-wall called Ruddy and Dean’s just down the street from the harbor. Oh … my… goodness… if you’re ever in the neighborhood please stop in, it doesn’t look like much but they have a great chef. On the trip back we sat on the Brooklyn side and got a close up view of one of the waterfalls - it was so relaxing and peaceful actually - a strange thing to experience in such a frenetic city. Later that night Asher spent his entire bathtime pushing little toy boats from one end of the tub to the other saying, “Please get off when the boat has come to a complete stop please … Thank you… all ASHORE!!!” and making as close to a ferry horn noise as his little throat would allow. First a bus driver, then a subway train driver, now a ferry captain. This kid is going to do fun things when he grows up.
And finally, something special for my mom, who is considering a visit…
Well, that’s it… the ace up my sleeve. If that doesn’t get her out here for a visit I don’t know what will. :)
A gorgeous day, crowds of students standing outside, waiting to enter a gorgeously conceived building. In the lobby, a palpable enthusiasm, a hushed excitement, people happily paying a stiff $20 admission fee (except me, pesky student that I am). We are greeted by cheery staff who take our tickets and give us a map of the building. “Be sure to check out the special exhibit,” they say. We slowly make our way through the hallways to the elevators and ride up to the fifth floor for the bulk of what there is to see. Everywhere we turn there is the sense of excitement and engagement among the other patrons. I see groups of three or four young people huddled together, pointing and discussing… pictures being taken right and left… a wealth of interest among both young and old. The Met you ask?? Nooooooo…. MoMA in fact. Even Asher is intrigued by some of it. At least until we get to the contemporary wing and both of us are unnerved by disturbing imagery. I turn Asher around 180 degrees and leave through the entrance of that particular selection of work. We decide to sit on one of the comfy couches in the lobby for a rest and watch the throngs make their happy way from one part of this beautiful building to the next and it occurs to me that this is not the impression we had while visiting the Met. People enjoyed the art there yes, nodded, looked this way and that, but they didn’t revel in it, didn’t discuss it in an animated fashion like this. And it makes me incredibly sad sometimes to think that representational art, which at least has the qualities of being precise and technically challenging, has been left out of the last forty years or so, and would never be welcome in a place like this (except for the Dali exhibit but that’s another story). Just so you know that I’m not being old-fashioned, I liked the bulk of MoMA’s permanent collection.. the Van Goghs, Matisses, some of the Picassos, the Kahlos, a Klee and a Klimt here and there, and even the occassional Warhol just for giggles. Many discussions can be had about the merits (or lack of I suppose) of the work of these fellows and they definitely pushed the envelope of the art world beyond the horizon. But lately… just lately… it seems to me that the art world, or whoever decides such things, has opted for a bit of a circus sideshow, complete with genitalia, offal, mutilation, and just plain weirdness. There were many galleries that were inappropriate for me to take Asher through. In one particular room I had to grab his arm to keep him from jumping into a sea of fluff and broken mirrors scattered about the floor - looked like fun to a pre-schooler! And yes we saw Mr. Hirst’s shark and no they wouldn’t let me take a picture of it with Asher in front (drat! the best side-show momento lost to us).
I’ve had a couple of questions from people who knew I wasn’t planning on going with Bryan to New York this summer as to why I am here now. To be completely out there (hi Internet!) I have to say that this has been a really difficult year - a struggle to figure out where I am headed both professionally and personally. I look at this trip as one of those pivotal moments of assessment and re-alignment, where great things both end and begin. One of the side effects of the past year was that I lost touch with a lot of friends and family - people I wanted to keep in touch with and cherish, but was too absorbed in my own navel-gazing thing to do so. To friends that I have offended, I am deeply sorry - please let me try to make amends. To my family … I don’t know what I would do without your help and support. Thank you, thank you, thank you for your sweetness and honesty too. Sometimes I need to hear the hard stuff. :) To everybody else who is like, “What the heck is she talking about?” …ummmm… don’t worry… everything’s okay. Many kisses for you when I get back home. Sara
