A little bit of Asia on the Upper East Side

I'm currently reading an anthology of New York stories taken from the City section of the New York Times.  One story I particularly liked spurns the idea that New York is a cultural "melting pot", instead referring to this metropolis as "a mosaic".  A much more agreeable image, to my mind.  It's less a gloopy soup into which we all dissolve, and more a distinct design that preserves our individual make-up and cements us side-by-side.  But whatever analogy you use, the cultural diversity of New York is is celebrated with gusto across the City, from the array of restaurant cuisines and specific neighbourhoods like China Town, to the walls of art galleries and museums, on cinema screens, and even rowdy street parades.

The Asia Society is a cultural institution on Park Avenue (at East 70th St) that was founded in 1956. Through its public programs, private events, and art collection, the Asia Society's primary mission is to educate the world about Asia. 

I last visited the Asia Society back in May, for an Australian short film screening.  As this was a night time event, I didn't have any opportunity to explore the Museum itself, so I finally got back there this past weekend and I was determined to make the visit count.  Unfortuantely (for you), photos aren't allowed anywhere in the Museum - so you'll just have to take my word for everything that follows.

Having paid my $12 admission, I bee-lined for the tranquil Garden Court Cafe.  This glass-enclosed, sun-drenched restaurant is often used for the Asia Society's receptions and events, but I patronised it for tasty cold rolls (summer rolls) and strong coffee.  Delicious!  All of the menu items were pretty tempting though, so I suspect the Cafe may see more of me in the near future.

Just outside the Cafe there are four ceramic vases from Korea on display.  They are part of the Museum's permanent collection, and will be on view until 4 January 2015.  The Museum doesn't display all of its collection at the same time; rather, they rotate the pieces that visitors get to see, also drawing on the 300 or so items from the Rockefeller family collection.  The items in the permanent collection come from across Asia, and date from the 11th Century BC, to the 19th Century AD.  The Museum's decision to exhibit its collection piecemeal might seem frustrating, but there is something to be said for keeping the collection fresh by only allowing fleeting glimpses every now and again.

Nam June Paik's work, taken
from an earlier exhibition.
Image credit here.

The four Korean vases weren't chosen for display at random.  Their appearance in the gallery coincides with the Museum's current exhibition of a famous Korean visual artist, entitled Nam June Paik: Becoming Robot.  I didn't realise the serendipity of viewing this exhibition at the time, but Nam June Paik ("the father of video art", 1932-2006) had his first NY exhibition in 1982 at The Whitney, that I had visited earlier that very morning. 

I confess I didn't really understand the Becoming Robot exhibit, but I did at least marvel at the imagination of the artist to create a working, walking, interactive robot sculpture.  I also enjoyed the bright colours of all the old-fashioned radios and TVs stacked together to look like robots.  Other exhibits were definitely more weird and some of them were even interactive but in my ignorance I'll admit I wasn't in a very participatory mood, much to the delight of the Museum security guards.  Nam June Paik's creative and confusing exhibition is also on view until 4 January 2015, so you definitely still have some time to see it.

If you're a regular reader of this blog, you'll know how I feel about Museum gift shops, and you mustn't miss the one in the Asia Society's lobby.  It has a rich library of beautiful books from previous exhibitions, art photography, travel stories, and even colouring-in books and Asian language-learning books for kids.  The raw silk scarves and jewellery are just beautiful, and the little Buddha statues will always be a particular favourite of mine.  Definitely exit through this gift shop.

Wandering the Whitney

A couple of months ago I was walking along the Hudson River and saw the construction site for The Whitney.  The gallery will relocate from its current Madison Avenue premises down to the Meatpacking District in spring 2015, making room for lots more exhibition space and allowing the curators to give the existing collection a bit more room to spread out.

This latter consideration is particularly important, because I went to the Whitney's existing space on the Upper East Side yesterday and almost had a meltdown.  Granted I had done zero research beforehand, and subsequently showed up on Family Day but even still, I couldn't believe the number of adults and children swarming all over the gallery - talking loudly and, in some cases, running between the artwork.  At one point I was literally elbowed out of the way as I paused to review some of the pieces.  Still, it took everything I had to remember that this is what art galleries and museums are supposed to be about - opening up the world of art for the people who produce it, and the people who want to appreciate it.

In 1931, sculptor Gertrude Vanderbilt Whitney (great aunt of Anderson Cooper) recognised the obstacles that young American artists faced when trying to exhibit or sell their works.  She began buying their pieces and showing their work publicly, giving them entree into the very exclusive art world in the US.  As Whitney's collection grew, corporate sponsorship came with it, and as a result The Whitney museum is arguably the definitive collection of 20th Century and contemporary American art in the country.

Now I can appreciate the proud history of The Whitney and the generosity of spirt that established its collection.  But my visit yesterday confirmed for me that I just don't like contemporary art.  I don't understand it, and I don't know why some of it gets praised as highly as it does.  I know that my lack of art appreciation is entirely my problem though, and jostling with feral adults and their children hardly helped my state of mind yesterday.  But having said all that, I did find some pieces at The Whitney that I really liked.

There is a Jeff Koons exhibition on display at the moment (until 19 October) and I remember seeing his works at the Museum of Contemporary Art in Chicago a few years back.  Some of his pieces don't make sense to me, but there are others I really appreciated for their sheer scale, the bright colours, and whimsy (the fitting way to describe an inflatable Incredible Hulk pipe organ).   The stainless steel statuaries are great, and of course the enormous balloon animals made me very happy.

Nearly two-thirds of the artwork at The Whitney were received as gifts, and the gallery is currently honoring these benefactors with an exhibition on the top floors of the building.  I toured these spaces with great interest and loved the Andy Warhol Brillo pad boxes, the Coca Cola print, and his sketch of Ginger Rogers.  But why did I love them so much?  Is it because they are so iconic?  If they had been produced by anyone else, would I still love them?  Who knows.

And as you can see earlier in this post, the Jasper Johns American flag artwork was a particular favourite, almost jumping off the canvas in 3D form.  And the colour freak in me loved Basquiat's "Hollywood Americans" and its unmissable pop of bright yellow - so of course I had to paste it here for you to see.

From the Big Brown Land to the Big Apple

When I first left Australia in 2005 and ultimately settled in Chicago, I remember throwing myself rather enthusiastically into the Australian expatriate community.  I worked at the Australian Consulate in Chicago at the time, and I also coordinated the local chapter of Advance, so I got early notice of any Australian activities and visiting artists that were coming through town.  Staying connected to Australia like that helped me keep homesickness at bay, but it also introduced me to some talented and worldly-wise Australians who were carving out very successful lives and careers in the beautiful Windy City.

 

New York definitely has its fair share of expat opportunities too (and not just the amazing Aussie cafes and restaurants you can visit).  Advance has its US headquarters here, the Australian universities have great alumni networks, and the Australian Consulate in New York maintains an excellent calendar of events to keep Aussies connected to the homeland.  Sporting codes are well represented here too, with AFL, netball and rugby teams featuring a great mix of Australian and American players.  Or you can visit The Australian Pub in Midtown for icy-cold Australian beers, great food, and sport on the big-screen TVs (including this weekend's AFL grand final).

If more formal networking is your thing, you can become a member of the American Australian Association.  The AAA helps you fuse your old life with your new life, by hosting events for Australians and Americans together - not just business breakfasts, but social events, like the Melbourne Cup, wine tastings, book signings, and black tie galas. 

But if you don't want to join anything too structured, you can always meet other Australians on social media, by joining Facebook groups like The Australian Community or Australian Women in New York or Australians in New York, all of which promote informal exchanges and conversation amongst Aussie expats here.  Plus I find that the Facebook option is a great source of advice on visa issues, apartment hunting, or buying and selling furniture.  They're the kind of routine, lifestyle issues you really need to know about, but aren't always sure who to ask.

Of course the extent to which you engage with these expat organisations is entirely up to you, but it certainly pays to know about them.  Because on good days and bad, sometimes you just need to speak with someone who "gets" you.  Someone who shares your frames of reference and your sense of humour.  Someone who knows how it feels to have that frosty Coopers Pale, meat pie, or flat white.  Someone who recommends where you can buy tiny jars of Vegemite, that somehow seem worth every penny to satisfy the craving until your next houseguests come to stay.

I'm sure that other countries offer their expats similar professional and social networking opportunities - you should definitely Google them and see.  And even if you only turn up to one event a year, that one random person you speak to might have really needed your friendly face, kind word, or funny story to remind you both why you moved to New York in the first place.

Homesickness therapy, $1 per minute

The phone booth was a greenhouse that sunny May day; the unseasonal heat amplifying the universal phone booth smell of urine and stale sweat. I pulled the door shut behind me and resolved to breathe through my mouth. The conversation I was about to have demanded complete privacy; or as much privacy as I could expect to have in a public phone booth during a busy, inner-city lunch hour. 

I had been making these distress calls home so frequently that I had committed the dialing codes to memory. Nevertheless my clammy hands rummaged for the phone card hiding in the abyss of my school bag. Brushing a hot, fat tear off my crumpled t-shirt, I pondered my decision not to unpack. My clothes still smelled of home.   Assigning them to unfamiliar cupboards would taint them with a sense of belonging that I knew I did not feel here, and maybe never would.

The blast of a car horn startled me. Looking out the booth window, I could see my  classmates across the street, sitting together in the dappled shade of the public park. No more than strangers ten days ago, this motley crew from at least nine different countries was effortlessly doing what I could not – swapping stories and laughing casually, in their wrinkle-free clothes. 

Card in hand, I dialed the number, with no idea what time it was back home, or what my call might have been interrupting. The phone rang twice, three times, and then connected. I immediately discerned the sleepy voice of my father at the end of the line. It must have been the middle of the night in Australia, but Dad had answered the call because he had known it would be me. And that broke my heart.

For a split second, my breath caught in my throat and my vision blurred with new tears. Squeaking a hello, I could hear my Dad sitting up in bed and my mother leaving the room to pick up the phone extension in the study. It was the middle of the night and both of my parents were again ready and willing to provide telephonic therapy. More tears fell.

For ten minutes the calm common sense of my parents punctuated my incoherent, snuffling sobs. Falling into our familiar roles, I whined and wailed as my parents cooed and consoled. From somewhere amongst my self-pitying moans of homesick solitude came the firm voice of my mother. “You could just come home, you know” was all she said. Her words echoed in my brain. After a few silent moments, my father sighed, bade me goodnight and announced he was going back to sleep. I thanked my parents, made my own hasty farewells and quietly replaced the receiver. 

With dry eyes, I looked up towards the park and heaved open the phone booth door, inhaling the heady aroma of still-warm bread of the nearby bakery.

A Day at the Museum

The weather has started to turn a bit here in New York and the forecast for today was for cooler temperatures and drizzling rain.  Perfect Museum weather!

At around 10.30am I entered the iconic American Museum of Natural History directly from the subway station (a great idea!) and I didn't leave until nearly 5pm.  Can you believe it?!

The Museum was founded in 1869 and contains around 32 million specimens.  Around 5 million visitors come here every year, and wander through 45 exhibition halls and galleries.  With my admission ticket today, I walked through the Museum's permanent collection but I also added on visits to the four temporary exhibits, Spiders Alive! (with live arachnids everywhere you look), Dark Universe (at the Planetarium), Great White Shark (an IMAX experience), and Pterosaurs: Flight in the Age of Dinosaurs (with lots of hands-on stuff for kids to try).

Some of the galleries and exhibition halls have dimmed lighting, which is totally fine in real life but it makes photography especially challenging for me.  Nevertheless, I gave my camera a pretty good workout on this visit, and you can see the fruits of those labours in the album below:

Post by The ABCs of NYC.

A bridge, a square, and some pretty great waffles

Philadelphia-born artist Anne Bascove is most often credited in exhibitions under just her surname (a mononym, for the clever types playing along at home).  Born in 1946, Bascove's work has appeared in books, on posters, and on the walls of museums and art galleries all over.

The New York City scenes in Bascove's more recent works are richly-coloured and (to my untrained eye) almost look like art deco designs, or the sorts of images you'd see in a graphic novel.  Bascoe has especially devoted a lot of time and creativity to capturing the great bridges of New York City.  And I don't just mean the bridges that connect Manhattan with other parts of the country; even the smaller inner-city bridges get a mention - like this one:

Pershing Square Bridge, 1993 - image credit here

If you can't immediately place it, this is the Pershing Square Bridge.  In spite of the lovely bright colours that Bascove has used, you'd be forgiven for thinking this was a post-apocalyptic interpretation of the Bridge - I mean, it's NEVER this quiet here.  The bridge is located outside the 42nd Street entrance of Grand Central Station (around Park Avenue).  It's often known by its technical name, the Park Avenue (or Pershing Square) Viaduct, and it's the ramped roadway that allows Park Avenue to extend from 40th Street, around Grand Central Station, and up to 46th Street.

The square beneath the bridge was built in honor of the splendidly-named General John Joseph "Black Jack" Pershing, the Commander in Chief of the American Expeditionary Force in WW1 and the only person in history to have been promoted to the position of General of the Armies within his lifetime.  That's the highest you can go in the ranks of the US Army and you report directly to the President of the United States.  Pershing was originally a teacher, with no desire to enter the armed forces at all.  But he took the entrance exam at the beautiful West Point Academy on the Hudson River and he passed (by just one point!).  What he lacked in academic skills Pershing more than made up for in "soldierly qualities" and before long he won the admiration of his peers, his commanding officers, and ultimately, Presidents.  For services to his country, General Pershing has been honored with monuments and plaques spread across the United States - including this bridge and square in Midtown Manhattan.

When the City first planned the square in Pershing's honor, it was supposed to be an open space with lots of freedom to move.  But before long, some cheeky entrepreneur sold a portion of the earmarked land to a real estate developer who promptly put up a 24-floor office building and dashed anyone's hopes of peace and quiet.

So in 1939 the City followed suit, and built a steel and glass-brick structure to sit directly underneath the bridge and serve as a tourist office - but ultimately it was converted into the Pershing Square Cafe.  This shiny eatery remains a very popular place for a sit-down breakfast - a lovely bistro, and a nice break from the nearby diners and "get it to go" places.  The waffles are pretty great here, and the cocktails must be worth a try too because the fully-licensed cafe gets packed on Friday nights, particularly between April and October when you can sit outside.

While it might be hard to appreciate the architecture of the Pershing Square Bridge in real life, you can always retire to the cool sanctuary of the Museum of the City of New York because you'll find Bascove's oil on canvas waiting for you there.

We're all MAD here

Columbus Circle

The Museum of Arts and Design (MAD) sits right opposite the hustle-bustle roundabout at Columbus Circle.  As multiple subway lines roar underneath your feet, the vehicular traffic honks and heaves at ground level.  To the left of the Museum you'll see the shopping and restaurant mecca of the Time Warner Centre, including the gorgeous Williams-Sonoma store that I have forbidden myself from visiting (as I cannot resist buying armloads of things).  To the right, there's the Merchant's Gate entrance to Central Park.  Just watch out for the horse-drawn carriages at this spot - they pop up almost out of nowhere.  And if you come here at Christmas time, make sure you browse through the pop-up holiday market.

But at any time of year, the most striking thing you'll notice as you stand out the front of MAD is the giant statue of Christopher Columbus, which was dedicated on this spot on 12 October 1892 (the 400th anniversary of his arrival in the New World).  The Italian-American community donated the statue to the City of New York, which consists of the explorer posed on a column and surrounded by reliefs of his three ships.

But I didn't come to this part of the City yesterday morning to ogle Columbus Circle.  I wanted to visit the six floors of the Museum, and I'm so glad I did.

MAD was founded in 1956 to champion contemporary artists and artisans from a range of disciplines.  When you come into the Museum lobby, you're immediately struck by different colours and textures.  I am no art critic, but when I see shiny things suspended from the ceiling above my head, and long, glittery streamers affixed to the elevators, my inner magpie cheers and I know I have found a happy place.  And you know how I feel about the importance of a Museum gift shop.  The one at MAD is excellent and you can't miss it, because it's in the lobby too.

I wandered through all the Museum exhibits yesterday, including Re: Collection which actually ended yesterday afternoon, so I just snuck in!  That one showcased objects acquired during the 16-year tenure of MAD's Chief Curator Emeritus, David McFadden.  There's also Multiple Exposures (which goes to 14 September), which explores the fusion of jewelry and photography.  I was also blown away by the exhibition spread out over the fourth and fifth floors of the Museum, entitled NYC Makers: The MAD Biennial.  This exhibition goes until 12 October, spotlighting the creative communities across all five boroughs of New York City and includes the work of over 100 artists and designers.  Not only is there art on the walls, but it's hanging from the ceiling, spread out over the floor, and in all shapes and sizes.  I loved it.  And your visit ends on the very top floor, in the working artists studio.  If you're lucky to be there when an artist is in residence, you can hang out with them and ask questions about their work.  Such a unique opportunity.

I went a bit MAD with the camera yesterday too, and took pains afterwards to caption each photo as best I could.  Take a look at the album below, and make sure that you include the Museum of Arts and Design on your New York itinerary.

Post by The ABCs of NYC.