I've never been to the Frick

The Frick is another of the places I have always said I needed to go, but never did until today. It's a collection of pretty amazing mostly european art all collected by one really rich guy, housed in his actual house, which he turned into a museum towards the end of his life. Tons of the big european masters are represented; Manet, Monet, Vermeer, Degas, El Greco and one solitary American; Whistler. The photo seen here is the little atrium, and just behind the fountain is the famous Renoir painting of the mother and her two daughters. It's the perfect afternoon activity because it's just one floor of all stunning, carefully collected and curated art, and they have these free audio guides where all the most important paintings are described and demystified by the art historian curators of the collection.

I decided to walk across the park to get to the Frick, and was reminded of how New York can be so full of rich experiences around every corner. As I was nearing the Naumberg Bandshell, I started to hear some really good jazz music. I don't know much about jazz at all, but I can tell a good musician when I hear one, and I heard this crazy sax wailing in all octaves, so I had to stop. It was these three young guys, a sax player who also played clarinet, a drummer and an upright bass player, and they were playing for tips in Central Park. And these guys were really good. I bought myself an ice cream sandwich and sat my butt down on a bench and watched them play until they were through. The Sax/clarinet player was just so good - of course the tourists, moms with strollers, and crazy roller skaters had no idea that they were getting this really awesome concert for free, but I just munched on my ice cream and appreciated all that new york has to offer. I talked to the guys afterwards, and they said they play there every day, just as a way to practice and maybe make some tips while they're at it. So not only will I go back to the Frick, but I'll definitely go back to the park (it's around 72nd street, right in between the West and East side at the top of the big steps from the fountain) and watch me some more free jazz. Ah New York - I'm falling in love with you all over.

I've never seen the ballet Giselle with ABT

I've actually never seen the ballet Giselle OR seen a performance at American Ballet Theater, so it was a double whammy today! A friend of mine writes for the "what's happening" section of the New Yorker, and she had an extra ticket to see Giselle today, so I happily accompanied her. It was great because since I never go to the ballet, I knew nothing about anything, but my friend was there to tell me the story of Giselle, the details about who the dancers were, and basically the whole history of ballet. Plus, seeing something on the stage of the Met that wasn't an opera (ABT performs at the Metropolitan Opera House when the singing's not in season) made me appreciate both the similarities and differences between an opera and a ballet.

The types of performances I go see the most often are obviously operas, so whenever I go to see a different kind of performance, I always need a few minutes to adjust. When I go see a play, I wonder why no one is singing. When I go see a musical I am freaked out at first by the fact that everyone is so heavily amplified. And seeing this very classical and traditional ballet today, I was at first feeling jarred by the fact that there were no words, and that all the acting had to be done completely with movements and gestures. Of course, that sounds ridiculous - it was a ballet!! But when the text is such an important part of everything you do, acting without it seems almost ludicrous at first. But after a few minutes I was able to relax and get into the flow of watching a story unfold that was completely told by movement.

Gisele is a young country girl who falls in love with a Prince disguised as a peasant (so far sounds like both Cenerentola and Barber). She has a heart condition and isn't supposed to dance too much (Traviata, La Boheme), but when she finds out that her boyfriend is not only a Prince but is engaged to someone already, she dances herself to death at the end of the first act (Antonia in the Tales of Hoffmann sings herself to death, and Giselle has a mad scene which reminds me of Lucia). The second act is the land of the dead, and all the women who died before they got married are dressed in these awesome white tutus, and they dance around and trap men and kill them when they get into their clutches - again, awesome! Gisele's former princely boyfriend comes to her grave, and she protects him from these crazy dead brides, and helps him escape alive, although he's all distraught because she's still dead. I can't really equate the second half to any opera because we don't have any dead brides killing young dudes. But that could be a cool premise for a new opera - maybe I'll suggest it to one of my composer friends.

According to my expert friend, the man dancing the lead in today's performance would possibly be one of the greatest dancers living today if he were only a few inches taller. I never really thought about that affecting a dancer's ability to go to the highest levels of success, but of course it makes sense. I don't profess to know jack about ballet, but this guys jumps and his landings were so incredible, I was greedy and just wanted him to jump and land for the entire ballet. It really looked like he had some harness attached to him that we couldn't see, his jumps were so high and his landings were so light. Singers complain that looks are starting to play very strongly into our profession, but imagine if the only thing holding you back were something as uncontrollable as your height!

When I was waiting in line for the bathroom, I was forced to contemplate yet another hardship of being a dancer compared to being a singer. These older new york ladies behind me were talking about the performance, and they started talking about the corps de ballet - the dancers who made up the ensemble, and who didn't have any solos. The ladies were exclaiming "imagine if you dedicated your whole life to dancing and you never made it past the chorus! I would rather be an opera singer in the chorus than a ballet dancer!" and I think they had a point. Someone in the opera chorus of the Met makes a decent living, and doesn't really have to worry about their voice or their body, and they can continue to sing in the chorus until they're 65 years old if they want to. A dancer in the corps still has to be incredibly careful about what they eat, they have to take dance class every single day just to stay in shape, and then they probably have to retire at 30 and find another career, after dedicating their whole being and lives to dance. Singers don't even usually start taking lessons til high school or college, but dancers start ballet classes at like 5 years old and never stop til they retire. The next time I complain about how "difficult" it is to be a singer, somebody remind me what it takes to be a dancer and I'll shut right up.

Ballerinas have my utmost respect and admiration, and I hope this gorgeous slightly short dancer gets his due respect despite his problems with stature. And may I be forced to stand on pointe until my toes bleed next time I utter a complaint about how the life of a singer is sooooo difficult.

Thwarted

I had every intention of doing something new today. I actually planned to go to the Wave Hill Gardens - a big park/art museum out in the Bronx, and in fact I took the 1 train to the last stop - 242nd street - in order to get there. But unfortunately I got very behind schedule this morning when dealing with some career stuff, and I got there 10 minutes later than the last shuttle left to get to the gardens. The gardens aren't really walking distance from the subway stop, but they have a free shuttle that takes you there at 10 minutes past every hour until 3:10. Unfortunately, by the time the subway pulled into the 242nd street station, It was about 3:20.

It's not my fault! This morning I got a call from my agents about the timing of some future job offers. As it stands right now, I have a large hole in my schedule - hole is an understatement - it's more like the crater that would be created if a meteor hit the earth - followed by a period of 4 months in which I have 5 offers. Unfortunately, because of the timing of said offers, it's looking like I can only accept 2 of them, and all 5 of them are things I REALLY want to do for varying reasons. Plus I have agents here in the U.S and agents in France and I'm trying to coordinate the offers from different continents with different people receiving differing commissions - suffice it to say I was starting to feel slightly hysterical when I was informed that yet another offer conflicted with already accepted jobs. WHY? I say why???? does everything have to happen at once?? Can't one of these jobs please land in the meteor sized hole in my calendar?

I did try a new japanese restaurant with my best friend who is only in town for a day and a half, so I guess I didn't completely break my own rules of trying something new every day. And tomorrow I have a really good new thing to try, so stay tuned...

I've never been to Union Square greenmarket, neue gallerie, boathouse at central park

Yes indeedy, today was a full day. My mom came into town yesterday to spend some time with me, and we managed to accomplish a lot today.

First, we spent the morning shopping at the Union Square Farmer's Market, which is the only really good one of it's type here in the City. There are other little markets throughout the city, but this one in Union Square is where I've heard all the chefs of the city shop. I can see why. There is a big variety of wonderful looking fruits and vegetables, and it's all reasonable. I was also able to get some farm fresh eggs and rustic organic bread. I will definitely be going back there for produce. I made a really yummy and slightly bizarre peach salsa thing with the ripe peaches and fresh basil from the market, and put it on top of toasted pieces of the rustic bread slathered with warm brie. It was pretty good.

The next stop on today's whirlwind tour was the Neue Gallerie, a museum on the Upper East Side with German and Austrian Expressionist Art. It is my friend Kim's favorite place in the City, and it was ridiculous I had never been there. Well, now I've at least been in the cafe, but I still haven't seen the Art. We went to the cafe first because it was lunch time and we were hungry. While we were there listening to a live pianist play lovely jazz and classical pieces, a customer having a coffee who turned out to be an opera singer got up and sang with the pianist, randomly. The pianist was playing Summertime, and I guess this girl, who seemed like maybe a student, just wanted to sing along, so she did. Afterwards she was handing out her card to the manager and seemed to be generally schmoozing. I don't know if she got herself a gig out of it, I found the whole thing really bizarre. She was dressed in flip flops and a tank top, although she did have a lovely voice. After we left the cafe we discovered that half of the museum is currently closed, so I decided to return in a week when the whole thing reopens, so I can see the entire collection at once.

This change in plans led us to have a few hours with nothing to do. We started walking towards the park, and my mom had the idea that we could rent bicycles and ride around the park. But once we got to the bike rental place it had closed - but the boat rental was still open. I hadn't ever rented one of those rowboats on the Central Park lake before, so I figured it would be a fun thing to try. It wasn't. It was hot and humid, and rowing was harder than I thought it would be. But you know what was even harder than rowing? Steering. I really suck at steering a rowboat. The thing that made the whole experience completely bizarre was the fact that a bunch of playboy bunnies who apparently have a reality tv show called "The girls next door" were right in front of us in line for the boat rentals with their entire tv crew. At first I thought "what are all these porn actresses doing with a tv crew in Central Park?" until the russian guy renting the boats informed me "You know, The Girls Next Door! They live with Hef!" He seemed delighted by their presence (go figure). We waited while they climbed into their rowboats with their platform heels, spray tans and bleached blonde hair, and we were next. The entire time I was in the lake I kept nearly running into one of their boats, so much so that when we finished our hour rental, one of the producers asked for our signature so they could use our images on tv. I told them just to blur my face out - I don't want to appear on that particular show, thank you. As I was getting out of the boat I twisted my knee in a weird way, and my mom had to help me hobble out of the park and into a cab. Now my shoulders, arms, and back really hurt from all that rowing (I was absolutely doing it wrong and making it much harder for myself), but at least I'm looking forward to seeing my blurry face and very bad boat steering skills on the Playboy channel.

See how much I was enjoying myself?

At least my mom was having fun!

I've never seen an classic movie at Symphony Space

And it's another thing I will definitely be doing again. Symphony Space is only a few blocks from my apartment, and while I had both seen and been in performances there, I had never been to see any films there, and they show interesting old classic films that I would never otherwise see on a big screen. They show double features every Sunday, and this month they are showing Hepburn films - today was a Hepburn/ Spencer Tracy double feature with two films from the early 50's; "Pat and Mike" and "Adam's Rib".

It's pretty amazing what a renegade actress Hepburn was, and how her roles were so ahead of their time- many of her movies could almost be made today which is definitely not the case with the majority of movies I've seen from the 50's. Both movies dealt with heavy feminist issues in a comedic and light way. "Pat and Mike" was about Hepburn as an athlete who doesn't want to marry her fiance until she feels she can be independent and achieve her own accomplishments (in the 50's - whoa!). Every time her fiance shows up in the stands for one of her matches, she chokes up and ruins the game. Tracy is her manager, and as manager and athlete they agree to have a relationship that is 50-50 - completely equal, and of course, she eventually dumps her fiance for the equal rights loving Tracy character. Movie number two, Adam's Rib, dealt square on with feminine equality. Hepburn and Tracy are married lawyers representing opposing sides in a case where a woman shoots her husband when she catches him cheating. Hepburn argues that if the shooter were a man, she would be acquitted and she wins the case, but almost loses her marriage when her husband feels emasculated by the whole process. This could seriously be a sex and the city episode right now - in fact I think it might have been. These movies were really interesting because they show just how much things have changed in certain ways, and how in other ways we haven't actually come that far in the past 60 or so years. I guess it never occurred to me to think of Hepburn as an important proponent of the feminist movement, but she certainly was bucking the stereotypes previously expected of actresses of her era. Go K-Hep!

I've never been to Kew Gardens

A good friend of mine recently moved to Kew Gardens, Queens, so today I went out to see his new apartment and the very suburban neighborhood in Queens he now lives in. I took the Long Island Railroad out there because the stop is only a few blocks from his place, and it was so fast and easy to get there. There are parts of the neighborhood that definitely look like what you imagine Queens looking like - industrial parts and lots of ethnic restaurants. But there were also parts that looked so suburban, it could have been a neighborhood in Ohio. I couldn't believe it was only a couple of subway stops away from Manhattan. Queens is actually a really nice borough because there is tons of green - there's a huge park called Forest Park just a few blocks from my friend's apartment - but also just among the apartments and houses there are trees, lawns, and little parks. I also love the around the world restaurant tour you can take, with Italian, Indian, and Asian food abounding. And not the swanky Manhattan type restaurants, but immigrant run restaurants serving the real food you would get in those countries instead of some americanized or fancified version. I can totally see the appeal of living in Queens, and I also really enjoyed my afternoon because I got to spend some quality time not only with my friend, but with his two adorable dogs, Mojo and Ella. It was a little bizarre walking Ella because my dog is also named Ella, although it felt totally normal when she barked and I said "No Ella!" because that's a phrase I utter constantly to my dog. Ella was too busy running all around for me to get a good shot of her, but Mojo did everything but say "cheese" for this photo.

I've never walked across the Brooklyn Bridge

Happy 4th of July! I'm not generally an overly patriotic person (if anybody asks me I'll say Italy and Canada are better in a second) BUT today's adventures sure made me appreciate this great city. I enlisted the company of a brand new friend - someone I had never before spent any time with, which added to the "I've never" nature of today's outing. We took the subway down to South Street Seaport and stood on the piers to view all four of the Waterfalls - NYC's summer '08 public art installation. This installation has been compared to the Gates, the orange gated flags that the artist Christo put up all through Central Park a few years back, and which I found very interesting and evocative. The waterfalls were nice, but with all the things to look at surrounding them - the Brooklyn Bridge included, they seemed like just another blip on an already full landscape. The bright orange gates dotted throughout Central Park in the bleak winter landscape totally and completely changed the way the park looked, and both walking through them and looking at them from a distance were really effective. I wouldn't kick these waterfalls out of bed for eatin' crackers, but I probably wouldn't ask them out for a second date either. Below is a photo of the Waterfall under the Brooklyn Bridge, and a photo I had taken of The Gates. See how the Bridge kind of dwarfs the waterfall, but the gates really enhance the park? No offense waterfall artist guy - I'm sure you're really sick of being compared to a totally non-related art installation.


The waterfalls became even less exciting when I walked across the Brooklyn Bridge, the next stop on today's journey, because the bridge itself is so totally awesome - and by awesome I mean both great and large, and also cool and rad. The structure of the Bridge is so beautiful to look at, and when framed with the views of Manhattan when you reach the Brooklyn side, it's totally breathtaking. I can't quite believe it has taken me this long to experience this spectacular and totally free wonder of my city, but I'll definitely be doing it again, maybe next time at sunset which I've heard is unbeatable.

The day finished with a rather long (and somewhat lost) walk through Brooklyn until we located Montague street (thanks to Georgia who grew up in Brooklyn, and who I called because I didn't want to walk all the way to Queens by accident), a lovely little street in Brooklyn Heights filled with restaurants and shops, where we sat down in a cafe for dinner and beers. I enjoyed today so much that it made me feel really good about my decision to fill July with newness because new friends and new experiences make new beginnings, which make me feel hopeful and alive. Not that I'm normally depressed and dead, but you know what I mean.

I've never been to P.S 1

Hooray - I finally did something on my list today, and it only took me three days! P.S 1 is an outpost of the MOMA here in New York, and while I've been to the MOMA many times since it reopened, I had never been to P.S 1 before, and I do love me some modern art. So I took the 7 train out to queens (I don't think I've ever had occasion to take the 7 train before this either) and even though you can see the building when exiting the subway, I still managed to get lost twice before I located the huge old school.

I guess they put the museum out in Queens because the big space was cheaper, but it definitely has a "too cool for school" lower east side vibe to it. First of all, there are pretty much no explanations for any of the installations, so you have no idea why there is a video screen with a guy playing a clarinet badly while a monkey looks on, even after you watch it for a few minutes. I'm actually not the biggest fan of video art installations because I feel like I'm watching tv, which feels entirely unartistic. There were also paintings and sculptures, some that really spoke to me, and some that really spooked me. There was one room that had a big silver bowl filled with water and a stuffed rabbit peering into the water - I think it was titled "confusion" and I was definitely confused by it. I got totally freaked out by a bunch of metal underwater suits hanging up in a dark room and "making" very loud clanging noises, but I liked that it elicited such a strong reaction from me. The second floor was a special exhibition of various forms of artist representations of social protest, including a room devoted to different takes on patriotism and the american flag . One piece was just an official photo of President Bush hung upside down, and another was a shopping cart full of hundreds of pin-on buttons with photos of the american flag on them. There were no real explanations for any of the pieces, so somebody like my Mom, who wouldn't recognize the faces of the members of the band Bon Jovi circa 1987, would have had trouble appreciating the irony of the photo of said band members posing in the same formation with a flag as the soldiers in the very famous Iwo Jima photo. This is what I mean by the museum being too cool for school - isn't art supposed to be for everybody?

Although a lot of stuff left me scratching my proverbial head, I still really enjoyed myself because whether I got what the artist was trying to convey or not, most of the things made me start thinking about something - even if it was whether they should be considered "art" or not - and the fact that all of it was thought provoking makes it interesting and artistic to me. I would definitely go back, but next time I'll go to the MOMA first (admission to P.S 1 is free if you have a MOMA ticket that's less than a month old) to see the Picassos and Pollacks and Rothkos and see if I can find anything of a conversation between those guys and these stuffed rabbits and clarinet playing monkeys. Whether I find it or not, the thought process will definitely stir up my brain in ways only art - any art - can.

And speaking of art - here's a photo of the rustic armoire my dad and I made using an antique barn door, and then antiquing the rest to match (he did all the carpentry and I did the painting). It's a real monster standing at almost 7 foot tall, and 3 foot wide. If that doesn't fit all my stuff, it's time to get rid of something.

I've never driven my parents van through the Bronx

Now I'm starting to regret that I sent an email to all my friends announcing "Hey - I'm going to do fascinating stuff each day and write witty and telling commentary on all the new epiphanies I'm having!" because both today and yesterday have kind of been lame in the department of epiphanies.

Today my parents and I drove down from their house to the City to deliver and assemble my newly constructed armoire. As usual, everything took longer than it should have and we got on the road later than anticipated. My dad was feeling really sleepy on the drive, so I volunteered to take over the driving, ignoring my Mom's raising of her eyebrows at this suggestion. My mom and dad are both sort of nervous passengers/drivers, but they have a system that they've worked out after over 40 years of marriage where my dad is behind the wheel, but they kind of co-drive the vehicle. It seems to put them both at ease. So when I got behind the wheel, it really messed with the system, and they both felt like they needed to become backseat drivers. My dad was worried that I was not staying in my lane, and my mom was very adamant that I not tailgate (i.e. - stay 650 miles behind the driver in front of me so that she doesn't need to slam down on her imaginary passenger breaks). This was all going fine, and I was laughing a little at them, but then our GPS directed us to get off the Saw Mill Parkway and take Broadway all the way down from 230th street to 99th street. Why the GPS didn't think the Henry Hudson would be more direct I don't know, but once we got into the Bronx is when true hilarity ensued.

I think both my parents nearly peed their pants every time someone cut me off, which was approximately once every second. Not to mention the constant jockeying of lanes you have to do to avoid the left turners in one lane and the double parkers in the other. It really is a nervous passenger's nightmare. By the time we reached the 160's or so, I got fed up and just followed some signs to take me onto the Henry Hudson, but as I was merging I nearly took out two other big vans, and I think my parents really did pee their pants at that point. We made it to my apartment unscathed, but both Mom and Dad needed to lie down for a minute to recover from the experience. And in their defense, I'm not a horrible driver, but I ain't great either, so they were probably mostly justified in their terror.

I had big plans to walk across the Brooklyn Bridge today, or at least see the Waterfalls Installation downtown, but by the time we recovered from the driving, put together the armoire and ate dinner it was too late. But tomorrow - tomorrow I'm going to change to world and move mountains and write such gripping social commentary that it will surely be published immediately in literary journals. Either that or I'm gonna, like, try a new flavor of chewing gum.

I've never been to Woodstock

And now I have, and I don't need to go back. I mean, it's a sweet cute little town, but you can pretty much cover the whole thing in about an hour and a half. It didn't exactly feel like I was starting my 30 day adventure with a bang, but I did have an absolutely delicious spinach, mushroom and three cheese strudel at a restaurant called Joshua's, so it wasn't a total wash. Actually, it kind of became a wash - or I should say, we got washed - when a crack of thunder nearly made my mom jump out of her sandals and then it started pouring rain on our un-umbrellaed heads. And since we didn't need any tie-dyed tee-shirts, we pretty much surmised that the trip to Woodstock was over.

The other "I've never" thing I finished up today was building an armoire for my apartment. About a year ago I found this cool old barn door at an antiques store, and I've spent the last year trying to think of how to use it creatively as a piece of furniture. My first thought was to fashion a headboard, and then I thought maybe a dining room table, but I eventually decided I needed more storage, so my dad agreed we could build an armoire and use the barn door as a....door. I thought I was going to be doing some major sawing and drilling in the construction, but my dad is such a fantastic and speedy builder (how he learned this I don't know, because he is a school teacher by trade), that I was basically a tool hander. I did have the creative job of painting the thing to make it look old enough to match the old door, and frankly, I think the sucker turned out pretty awesome.

I realize none of these experiences were earth shattering or worthy of any guide-books or how-to guides, so hopefully tomorrow's adventure will turn out to life changing. No pressure or anything.