When a reptile crawls across the top of your foot, it’s a new day.
Some may recoil from the thought of this, but I liked it. It felt soft, it even tickled, and because the reptile was a box turtle, it was a rather sweet moment.
I met him in Brooklyn (of course I met him in Brooklyn) in my friend Jocelyn’s backyard. His name was Hercules. Joce taught me how to feed him carrots. If you think those claws on your skin would feel weird, imagine a tiny beak nibbling on your finger. Again, it tickled. I think I fell in love with Hercules.
I also fell in love with the household’s tom cat. His name was Bodhi, and he was a gorgeous tuxedo with a nice, big face. Of course, he preferred Benjamin to me, but this was only because Benjamin petted him with his special kitty mojo that leaves all the felines dizzy.
It was cool under the trees in Jocelyn’s patio garden. We were all feeling pretty mellow, after our collectively celebratory Saturdays, but we still managed to share stories and art. Joce sang her new song for us, a funky piece with room in the middle for a bass solo. Nice! Thank you, Jocelyn! Dara caught us up on some big changes she’s making in her life. We love it when friends take risks to further their creativity, and Dara, you have our full support!
Our Sunday in South Park Slope was relaxing, slow like a turtle, and lazy as a cat…my kind of day. We look forward to visiting again!
When it’s hot in New York, a dark pub is a welcome retreat. Who am I kidding? A dark pub is ALWAYS a welcome retreat, and a few weekends ago, we frequented one of the best in the city—The Old Town Bar and Restaurant on East 18th in Manhattan.
I came across this lovely joint as I searched for places to write near Benjamin’s office and places to meet friends for food and drink. I loved that it was described as “a haven for writers both accomplished and aspiring.” Poets, novelists, and playwrights hung out at The Old Town. Yes! I loved that it was described as having “unique character, reasonable prices, and a casual and unpretentious ambience that has outlasted every trend and fad…” In a city with two-hour waits for brunch, and items on menus a little too ‘fusion’ for this girl’s tastes, these words were welcome.
So we ventured to The Old Town to meet Ben, Rachel, and Jane. In the past, we have had great discussions with Ben and Rachel about things like “Deadwood” and how it was truly one of the best television series ever. We have enjoyed ourselves at one of their back yard BBQs, where Ben grilled some delicious fish, and Rachel and I discussed the few merits and many pitfalls (so many pitfalls) of Fifty Shades of Gray. Between the four of us, there have been margaritas, (many, many margaritas) and when we left for Berlin, Ben and Rachel gifted us with a lovely back roads travel book. When you meet good people like the two of them, it is a fortunate thing. And when they introduce you to a woman like Jane, well, the world just seems smarter and funnier.
We sipped Augustiner beers from Benjamin’s favorite Bavarian town. Yum! So flavorful and creamy! For me, these were the closest thing to the tank beers we drank in Prague. The Old Town felt like the old country in another way too—no screens. Ok, yes, there was one television mounted in the corner of the bar, but it was not turned on. Imagine! Conversation without competing noise! Yay!
We had quite the conversation too. The three NYC tourists graced us with tales of Coney Island, where Ben’s wallet and phone fell from a rollercoaster and questionable hot dogs were consumed. We heard about some late night roof top antics in their Air B&B, and we saw some bar napkins with lists of celebrities that our travelers fancied for various reasons. We all agreed that it is never a good idea to marry your cousin, due to the potential of developing, as Jane put it, an ‘octopus beak.’ Heh heh…Yes, this was after the second beer, which I think hits you faster in the heat, but this tasty quote was also indicative of Jane’s sense of humor. Her wit was fantastic! Like Ben and Rachel, she was good people.
After the pub, there were other adventures in libations, including a bit where I performed a miracle, turning my water into wine, but I’ll refrain from those and keep the focus on 18th street. We look forward to seeing our friends again- in D.C., Irvington, or Manchester, and we will certainly make The Old Town Bar and Restaurant our regular New York City haunt.
When I attend really good poetry readings, I let the words wash over me. I don’t mind that I forget specific phrases. It’s enough to hear the sound of the readers’ voices, to know that what they’ve written came from the gut.
With modern dance, it’s similar. I know each physical phrase is as carefully constructed as every written line in a poem. I can catch certain movements, but I really experience the dance piece as a whole. It’s intoxicating to see the human body move in contemporary dance, to see how it becomes this breathing art form.
Benjamin, Kate, and I went to see Cedar Lake Contemporary Ballet at the Brooklyn Academy of Music on June 6th.
Some shows stay with you, and this one definitely will.
The night began with “Indigo Rose” choreographed by Jiri Kylian. In this piece, there were playful interactions between the dancers, shadows of figures cast behind a diagonal white screen that challenged our perceptions of scale, and repeated sequences that were stunning in physicality, in how difficult they looked to achieve. We were close enough to see the dancers smiling at each other, and this was endearing. The whole thing felt like a celebration.
The second piece was “Ten Duets on a Theme of Rescue” by Crystal Pike. Wow! In one duet, dancers tapped the insides of their calves and thighs with their feet to create a percussive sound that corresponded with the music. Another duet began as a solo, and instead of another dancer joining in, the light became the partner. The most powerful duet for me featured a dancer walking slowly across the stage, looking forward but with one arm extended behind her, hand open, ready to accept the struggling dancer who followed her. He was running as if a strong wind were forcing him back, running desperate to grab ahold of her hand. In moments, they made brief contact, but he always slipped away. After each slip, he’d try again, running painfully. Because we were so close, we could see the anguish on his face and hear him breathing hard.
The third piece, “Necessity Again,“ by Jo Stromgren was sexy and vibrant. It involved 1940s swing costumes (which of course I loved) and a lot of props. Dancers moved with book pages scattered across the stage, in and out of clothesline, on and off of chairs, and one dancer gradually titled upside down on a heavy table that she held as she moved. Let me repeat that… upside down on a heavy table that she held as she moved. She was so strong! This part of the dance ended with her sliding off the table, neck first. Neck first. I love it when the head and neck are used in contemporary. It’s vulnerable and communicative. Hands too. In one phrase, dancers put their thumbs together and their fingers flat, as if creating a frame. Then they “fanned” their hands above their right hips as they strutted and repeated a word within the song. The word was ‘esperanza’ or ‘hope’ in Spanish. Given the challenges I face with my hip, this small phrase made me cry. Strong art always makes me cry.
After the third piece, we thought that the show was over, but we were treated to a rare and powerful encore by Ohad Naharin. The curtain lifted to reveal the ensemble, all decked out in black suits and hats, standing in front of a large semi circle of chairs. The dancers stood perfectly still, as we listened to a woman’s voice reciting a French poem. As the poem subsided, drumming and deep chanting began and the dancers sat down slowly. Then, beginning with the first dancer, each of them rose in stunning sequence, each of them bending back, until it was the last dancer’s turn. He bent back and fell forward onto the floor. Words can not fully describe this. It happened over and over. The dancers repeated a sequence of moves, then they did that cascading motion, over and over, and that last dancer fell each time. Everyone shed their clothing too, one article at a time, throwing shoes and pants and shirts into the center violently. Except for the last dancer. He remained fully clothed, falling and falling until the end.
Word can not fully describe this incredible company. To see the snippets of the first three pieces, watch this:
And to see the encore, go to 3:30 and enjoy here:
Sadly, this was Cedar Lake’s final bow, but we’ve saved our programs, and we are keeping mental lists of the choreographers and dancers, in hopes that they will regroup and resurface where we can see them again. So good, so good, so good!
Near Storm King Art Center is a great B&B, appropriately named Storm King Lodge. Benjamin and I stayed here for a night, and we had a really good time.
The proprietor of the lodge, Hal, was a fascinating man, a retired professional trombonist. He told us some of his stories about touring with the New York Metropolitan Opera and the Boston Symphony Orchestra. He also showed us his son’s sculptures, which were these really nice combinations of glass and metal, shaped into stacks like spinal bones or arranged as full skeleton cowboys. I loved them. And as all good B&B owners do, Hal shared the history of the house… it was originally a Dutch barn built in the 1700s. Swallows inhabited the back porch rafters, and every window pane was graced with their beautiful nests. We woke up to the sound of them fluttering outside our window.
At breakfast, we met a former CIA agent, who shall remain purposefully nameless. He was really into music and had a lengthy discussion with Benjamin about the joys of attending good shows and the differences between the various musical decades. Agent X was with his friend, who shall be called 002. She was an interpreter in a particularly dicey place during the Cold War. I liked that 002 was reading J.D. Salinger’s short stories. We also met a young woman getting her PhD in Psychology, and her Software Engineer fiance, who was really an aspiring science fiction writer.
I do love the people that you meet at B&B’s, and there were other things to love about Storm King Lodge.
Jacque and Lucy were the resident’s furry canine friends. Jacque was an elderly pup who looked like a big, pretty wolf, and Lucy was a Chow mix who entertained us by stalking a bunny. She was unsuccessful, but we admired her determination.
The outdoor pool was phenomenal! Hal painted it black to naturally keep it warmer, and it worked! It also made the water a gorgeous navy blue. I loved the feeling of stepping in, being able to see my feet, and then having them disappear into the deeper water. It was so nice to swim outside in fresh air surrounded by a mountain vista.
I must end with a few more words for the barn swallows. I loved their cobalt blue wings and their forked tails. I loved how their nests were like little hives. Most of all, I loved how they remembered that the lodge was once a barn, and therefor, they belonged there.
Storm King Lodge was lovely and we hope to visit again soon!
A couple weekends ago, Benjamin and I took a little trip to Storm King Art Center.
Storm King is a 500 acre sculpture park with more than 100 sculptures and installations. It’s located in the mountains surrounding New Windsor, New York, about an hour north of us.
We rented bikes and pedaled around to see the art. Among my favorites were:
Maya Lin’s “Storm King Wave Field”—I’ve been in love with Maya Lin since I watched a documentary about her. From the Vietnam Veterans Memorial, to the Civil Rights Memorial, to this piece, I am always struck by how she pays attention. Her work is thoughtful, quiet, and specific. On this site, her waves added subtle beauty to the already present hills. Lovely. Just lovely.
Alyson Shotz’s “Mirror Fence”-This piece charmed me like a picket fence should. Yes, there could be a deeper statement, maybe of suburbia/Americana imposing on a natural landscape or some art school comment like this. But I was on a bike feeling 12 years old. I liked the shine, and I wanted a popsicle.
Roy Lichtenstein’s “Mermaid”-Because… pop culture… and because his work always makes me want a new coloring book. There was a fuzzy duckling swimming beneath his giant gal canoe, and I liked this sweet little scene.
Andy Goldsworthy’s “Storm King Wall”—Wow! Like Maya’s work, this piece speaks with the landscape. Such a pretty snake of a wall meandering up the hills and even down under the little pond. Beautiful!
Johnny Swing’s “Nickel Couch” and “Butterfly Chair”—First of all, how about the name Johnny Swing? I want that name. Epitome of cool. These pieces were just fun. A chair and couch constructed entirely from nickels or fifty cent pieces. Oh yeah.
And last but not least…
“Five Stone Columns” from the Danskammer mansion- Because these were not attached to a building, they looked like ruins on those sweeping hills. I imagine this was a purposeful choice on the part of the center. Nicely done. We snapped a photo for my Dad, the retired Latin teacher. He used to have paper columns like these in his classroom. Enjoy Papa!
My one critique of Storm King is that they need to splurge for mountain bikes. I understand that they have to make money, so they don’t allow you to use your own bike, but c’mon. The nice attendant told me their bikes were “all terrain.” Um, no. They were beach cruisers—no tread on the tires, only 3 speeds, and only front brakes. These were not made for uphill climbs. I’d gladly pay a fee to use my own bike for a smoother ride. Just my 2 cents.
Other than this, Storm King was a fun place to spend a morning, and we hope to return someday to see more of it.
