We are supposed to be making art. That’s always the plan. We worked hard on Monday, a little bit on Tuesday and Wednesday. Today we’re still sitting and talking. We know each other for thirty years or more. Somehow we never run out of things to talk about. Tuesday evening we went to a play on the other side of the peninsula, which faces west over Green Bay and gave us a wonderful sunset.
Yesterday, after working in the morning, we visited two galleries and a wonderful master gardener’s garden.
The sky was overcast with a slight drizzle all the way up here. That’s ideal for a long drive; no sun in the eyes, no huge downpour to cope with. We stopped at the Kohler Arts Center in Sheboygan and saw three interesting shows. The drawing show and Carol Prusa show were both wonderful, but I particularly loved Emery Blagdon. He made what is frequently termed “outsider” or “”visionary” art: creations which come from the soul made by someone with no training who probably never terms them art or thinks of himself or herself as an artist. I would love to go around the world looking at this kind of art.
After another stop for ice cream we arrived in Sturgeon Bay where Anita and Kathy were waiting for us and we will spend the week. I am sitting and writing and looking out at Lake Michigan and listening to the waves coming ashore. Lake Michigan could be an ocean; there are no other shorelines in sight. I saw it when I drove into Chicago and followed it several hundred miles to get up here.
Yesterday we actually did some work. Sandy taught us about image transfer. Most of her techniques involved laser prints. I want to do it with inkjet prints and still haven’t found a satisfactory method. We have one more technique to try today.
I have taken lots of photos and can’t properly sort and handle them until I return to Pittsburgh. Here is one I took in the botanic garden just outside of Chicago.
It was a great week. I saw 3 nephews (and 1 great nephew), 3 cousins, 2 grandchildren (1 two times and 1 three times), 1 friend twice (and much of her family), stayed with another friend, and friend #3 arrived Friday. All of this took place during 3 breakfasts, several lunches, 2 special dinners and far too much time in the car. But busy as I was, I felt wonderful. I have come to the conclusion that living in the whirlwind is good for me; I need all that stimulation. Today is the day we go to Door County. Someone else will drive and I am thinking about giving my eyes a rest and not putting in the contact lenses. Eventually, I do get tired.
This trip to New York was very special. In addition to many of my usual favorite things I spent much of the time with old friends whom I haven't seen for many years. Our first activity was a tour of the Tenement Museum. It was particularly interesting in light of our current immigration discussions. Amazing how each generation of Americans easily forgets parents or grandparents who made the extraordinary effort to get here, many of them undocumented, how they were harassed and maligned after they arrived, and how they contributed to the rich life we now embrace and would be better off with more of their values.
My friends are Israelis. We met them just as they came out of the Israeli army and came to Chicago to go to University of Illinois. They remained long enough to get a PhD, have two children and become highly contributing American citizens. Then they returned to Israel and I've seen them only a few times since, each being a special pleasure.
We went to the Met (and I went a second time), to the Japan Society, to the High Line, and to the most amazing play, War Horse. The play is done with puppets, although not what we usually think of as puppets. They are life size; each horse controlled by three people. When they come on stage you know they are puppets, no attempt is made at deception, but you believe deep inside they are real and you are (I was) overwhelmed by their presence. Everything in the play conveys the story. Nothing is extraneous. It is all immensely moving. I plan to see the movie when it comes out at the end of the month, but I'm sure it won't be the same.
I came back to Pittsburgh with a walnut bread from Eataly, tea from Kalustyan and a nasty cough. I never got to the book party on Sunday; decided not to spread the germs. I just finished the book and will have pictures next post.
I'm sitting on the train going back to Pittsburgh and wishing Shalmit was here with me again to help pass the time. Yesterday was my last full day in NY. I spent the morning tidying the apartment. I don't want to say cleaning because I didn't do much of that, except for the kitchen and bathroom. Also did a load of laundry so I could leave clean linen on the bed.
I met Mary about 2 and we took the subway down to Chinatown where she got her hair cut. It was interesting watching all the goings on in the salon. And it cost half of what I usually pay. If I got to NY more often I might consider changing hairdressers, but I'm not sure they would know what to do with curly hair.
We wandered around the area stopping to eat rice pudding in a place that sold it in about 20 different flavors. I tried several before I finally settled on almond (but no nuts in it). Visited the Museum of the Chinese in America and a shop with wine and other products from Chile; walked through Prada (amazed that they let me in) and finally went to Eataly where Mary had never been and where I wanted to return to get another walnut bread. After a long bus ride up Madison we had dinner near the apartment, of course, chattering all the way. It was a lovely day, a charming finish to my trip.
I woke up to a gray, rainy morning and thought about spending the day in bed. That got boring pretty quick so as the rain lessened I got dressed and went out, had lunch and went over to the West Side to see another documentary; this time about Sholem Aleichem–good, but not the most interesting thing I've ever seen. Too many talking heads, but I suppose there's not much else that could be done.
After the film I walked over to Whole Foods in Columbus Circle for some dinner and some nosh to bring to my next stop. Then on to the subway the GW Bridge, and New Jersey, my old stomping grounds. Ellen had a Stitch and Bitch for me so I could see many of my old friends. We did this every Sunday night for years so it was great fun to see them again.
At least I haven't been spending so much time in restaurants. Thursday morning Mary and I went out to the botanic garden in the Bronx. The well-advertised exhibit wasn't so spectacular, but the Poet's Walk and the lily pond were spectacular. Here is a photo of someone doing a tricky bit of photography. Just imagine if the camera dropped into the water.
I don't know if the other photographer found it as amusing as I did.
We had lunch at the garden, but most of our visiting was done walking around–my doctor would approve.
Dinner was a long visit with Jean at another restaurant, but I've been sticking to salads.
Friday was a real walking day. Phyllis and I went up on the High Line. This is a real winner. The city converted an old railroad track into a long, skinny park. It's a great place: you can see into back yards, roof gardens and other usually hidden places.
Here the tracks remain, but the ties are covered with something that makes for easy walking.
The path rose above the tracks, visible below, and everything is landscaped beautifully.
This time we had a large, late lunch. After I got back to the apartment, worn out, I had a very small dinner alone.
No dates today so I went down to Union Square by myself. I was going to go out to Brooklyn to a Saturday event called a Smorgasburg–more food–but opted instead for a street fair in the village. Bought more earrings, and a Mozzarepa for lunch; wandered through the green market in Union Square then over to Lincoln Center, hoping to get a ticket for War Horse. No luck. Looked at quilts at the folk art museum, walked over to Lee's Art Supply to check for more paper; finally got a bus and I'm vegging out at the apartment.
I'm worried: if I can't get through three weeks in NY, how will I do six weeks in Japan next year. Maybe it's the heat.
You have to look at this picture very carefully to see why it stopped me. Look near the black shoes.
Maintaining friendships involves sitting at a table and talking and eating. The last two days have been an intense round of visits with old friends, usually sitting over coffee or something else I shouldn't have. Tuesday morning I met J in the art books at the Strand, which is so large we had to specify a section. From there, talking all the time, we went to a small Israeli restaurant where we sipped fresh squeezed orange juice until the lunchtime crowd came in and needed our seats. We went across the street to the less crowded Au Bon Pain and sat for another hour or two over coffee and soup. I usually eat, but wasn't hungry then. Finally J walked back to the Strand with me so I could continue looking at books and we said goodby.
I managed to get out with only one book and went up to meet another J, Julia, at the Whole Foods at Columbus Circle, starving by this time. Julia got a table while I bought food. We kept that one from four until six thirty, buying a little more as the spirit moved us. Finally I couldn't sit anymore and we walked over to Lincoln Center where we hung out again, until it was time for our eight o'clock concert. It was interesting to see the musicians so casually dressed for the rehearsal now looking very formal and dignified. This was an all Mozart program with the Jupiter Symphony and two choral pieces. Very nice.
Wednesday I met Sybille back at the Film Forum for another documentary; this time about Anselm Kiefer. Many years ago I was awestruck by a large Kiefer painting, Ordnung das Engels, at the Art Institute of Chicago. (It doesn't seem to be there any more.) Since then I have sought out his work wherever I could find it, but nothing had the power of that first experience. The film didn't either. Exhausted by the over long film, and hungry, we went looking for something decadent for lunch. We found Rocco's cheesecake first, but decided it was too decadent for starters so we walked across the street to Amy's Bread, where we had soup and some amazing seeded rolls. Then we went back to Rocco's for the Italian cheesecake, which is not as decadent (read cream cheese) as their American version. Of course, more talk and more coffee.
I returned to the apartment just in time to sit down for 10 minutes, then off to another restaurant to meet C and her niece: lots more talk, salad, no coffee. Two great days.
Friday morning we went to a rehearsal at Avery Fischer Hall for the Mostly Mozart concert to be held that evening. It was really fun to see everyone dressed casually but playing this very disciplined classical music. When the conductor and the soloist, Joshua Bell, came on the stage they looked like two teenagers about to make some mischief. Of course, everyone under 60 looks like a teenager to me lately.
Being a very visual person I was enchanted with the look of Avery Fischer Hall, particularly the pattern created by the EXIT signs. Beautiful music and I am obsessing over a black and red sign.
We met a friend for a long lunch then walked down to the Museum of Art and Design where I particularly enjoyed this exhibit. There were a couple of interesting videos and some good dioramas. Almost like dollhouses it's fun to see large things made small, although the subject matter wasn't always charming.
I came to New York for–an appointment with my optometrist, who helps me manage my keratoconus, a nasty eye problem that will keep me wearing contact lenses for the rest of my life, or so long as I can stand them. Mostly my problem with the lenses is the mucous or dirt my eyes produce that clouds the lenses and keeps me from seeing. I try all sorts of things to clean my eyes, but it's an uphill battle. Today,, she gave me more recommendations and instructions. All in all, a good appointment. Now, it's up to me.
This evening, before I met Renee for dinner, I found myself across the street from a Jam Paper Store, one of the places on my list. It used to be Kate's Paperie. I take it fancy papers are no longer on many people's must-have lists. I found the card stock I wanted and bought a package of 50 sheets. It was tempting to buy more, but I don't know if it will go through the printer. I forgot to mention I bought handmade paper from Nepal at the Rubin on Monday. Nice stuff, nothing extraordinary. Have to think of another book to make with it.
I spent some time at the Whitney yesterday, but except for the Lionel Feininger exhibit, not much interested me. Renee is getting ready to go to Ireland on Sunday leaving me alone here. That's both good and bad; I like her company, but I have many friends to see.
100 Books Before I Die 