Should I stay or should I go?

The T Schreiber Studio and Theater was founded in 1969 to strengthen the dramatic arts in New York City.  The Studio and its adjacent theatre have won countless industry awards for their classes, scene studies, and workshops.  The company also puts on small-scale theatrical productions that are fertile grounds for stage and screen actors, directors, and playwrights to hone their crafts.  And did I mention this gem establishment is also located in my neighbourhood of Chelsea? Another excellent selling point, if you ask me.

Take a look at the Studio's alumni page, and I'm sure you'll recognise a number of the famous faces that have come through the doors over the past 45 years (Edward Norton, Maggie Gyllenhaal, and Peter Sarsgaard, just to name a few - and they also serve as Honorary Board Members now).  I also love that the company maintains a page on its website called "Look Who's Working!", to track the career development of their peers.  A wonderful, supportive idea!

You'll be relieved to learn that I don't have any desires to tread the boards myself any time soon; rather, my purpose for visiting the Studio and Theater tonight (tucked away on the 7th floor of an unremarkable building) was to see "Philadelphia, Here I Come" by Irish playwright Brian Friel.   It's the first play in the company's 2014-15 season and I ended up sitting in the very front row, almost eyeball-to-eyeball with the actors in such a small theatre space.  I loved every minute of it.

The play was written in 1964, and is set in a small town in Ireland.  It takes place on the night before a young man leaves his home (and his widowed father) to join his aunt and uncle in Philadelphia.  The relationship between father and son is already pretty strained, and the young man's impending trip weighs heavily on both of them.

Family dynamics aside, if you've ever left home and gone somewhere new, you will relate to this play immediately.  The clever thing is that two actors actually play the young man.  One of them performs his physical self and interacts with the other characters, and the other actor is the young man's inner self - voicing all those things the young man thinks and feels, but would never say aloud.

For me, the play really made sense.  I have felt the push-pull of knowing you need to leave home, but not being able to articulate a decent reason why.  Just like in the play, right before a trip I've also specifically noticed those "lasts" - the last time I'll sleep in my own bed, the last time I'll hang the laundry outside, the last time I'll play with the dog.  And just like the young man in the play, I know how it feels when ordinary moments suddenly take on real gravity - like you're committing them to a film that you'll replay in your mind over and over.

The original Broadway production of "Philadelphia, Here I Come" opened in 1966 and ran for over 300 performances.  It was nominated for two Tony Awards and a film version was released in 1975.  The cast in this latest production have rich material to play with - tragic, comic, and a pleasant Irish brogue to boot.  All the actors did a wonderful job in their roles.

I'm so glad I finally discovered the T Schreiber Studio and Theatre, and I'm going to get myself on their mailing list, to be sure!

New York immigration, in black and white

If you've been reading this website for any length of time, you'll know what a sucker I am for any stories about New York.  If they're based here, feature characters from here, or even if they make a fleeting reference to New York, I'm all over them.

So it goes without saying that when The Film Society of Lincoln Center emailed last week, inviting me to purchase a ticket to the 15th Anniversary screening of "La Ciudad" ("The City"), I was intrigued.  I'd never heard of the film before, but the invitation email described it as an immigration film about New York's Latin American community, "and a powerful exploration of what it means to be an American today".  The late (and very great) critic Roger Ebert even declared it to be "a movie to treasure", so of course I was sold.

Even though the rain was pouring outside on this dreary Wednesday, the mood inside Lincoln Center's Walter Reade Theatre was buzzing.  Such was the popularity of tonight's event that the only seats available when I arrived were in the very front row of the theatre.  Initial disappointment quickly turned to wide-eyed wonder as four unrelated stories came to life on the screen in haunting black-and-white.  "La Ciudad" was filmed over a seven year period and for the most part, the cast is comprised of non-professional immigrant workers.

In a panel discussion after the screening, two of the film's performers, its director David Riker, and Producer, Paul Mezey, cast their minds back 15 years and shared their stories on the uniqueness of the film-making experience.

Riker said that he relied on the non-professional actors to tell him the authentic immigrant story of New York.  That is, Riker needed his "actors" to show him what a sweatshop was really like (harrowing), or what it was to be a labourer and have to beg for work each day from business owners who may or may not end up paying you.  Or what a mother goes through when she can't get her hands on the $400 she desperately needs to send back home for her sick young daughter.  Or how a homeless, illiterate father can't enrol his daughter in school because he doesn't have a rent receipt or a phone bill to prove that they live in New York.  Or what it feels like to arrive in New York, make a random connection that fills you with confidence, and then lose your way in the concrete jungle - all in the space of 12 hours.  What dialogue there is in the film is largely in Spanish with English subtitles.  But words aren't needed to convey pain, or desperation, or despondency, or frustration - that's all there in the eyes of the performers.  It was really moving.

"La Ciudad" was remastered for tonight's screening, but the film makers have launched a Kickstarter campaign to "rescue" the movie and put it onto DVD for wider distribution, as well as to make the movie available online.  They're already half-way to meeting their $14,000 goal, which is really impressive.  If they succeed in this endeavour, and you can get your hands on a copy of "La Ciudad", I would really recommend you watch it.  The movie isn't fast-paced, and it is subtitled, but it is a remarkably timeless production that offers a perspective of the lives of New Yorkers that you may not otherwise get to know.

The artistic side of the United Nations

Countries, associations and individuals have been donating artwork and historical objects to the United Nations since the very earliest days of the organisation.  

You might recall I shared some of the international artwork with you back in May, and again when there was a photography exhibition on Australian policing at the UN, and also Israel's exhibition of the work of young artists with autism.

En route to an event yesterday I did another dash around the UN and captured some more of its artistic treasures.  You can click the link here to browse the latest album.

Amplifying the New York stories you don't normally hear

October 17 is the International Day for the Eradication of Poverty.  The theme of this year's commemoration was "Leave No One Behind: Think, Decide, and Act Together Against Extreme Poverty".

I came down to the UN Headquarters today for the New York commemoration of this annual event.  I attended a wonderful lunchtime program hosted by France, Burkina Faso, and the ATD Fourth World Movement (the principal organisation that has spearheaded the annual celebrations since 1987).  The very first International Day was celebrated with the laying of a commemorative stone in Paris, a replica of which was then installed at the UN in New York in 1996.  The inscription on the stone reads:

Wherever men and women are condemned to live in extreme poverty, human rights are violated.  To come together to ensure that these rights be respected is our solemn duty.

ATD Fourth World had been ramping up for the New York event for a while, including with a fantastic online campaign with Thunderclap.  Their efforts resulted in more than five million Twitter and Facebook users committing to send messages about the need to stand with people in poverty and commit to a world that leaves no one behind.  If you're on Twitter, check out the conversations using the hashtags, #endpoverty and #no1behind.

UN Secretary General Ban Ki-Moon echoed these messages in his opening remarks today, when he said "where poverty holds sway anywhere, people are held back everywhere".  The Secretary General commented that while we have lifted 750 million people out of poverty in the years 1990-2010, one out of every five people in the world still live on less than USD1.25 per day.  And this does not even begin to address the violence, discrimination and social exclusion that many of these people in poverty face in addition to their economic disadvantage.

What I found most compelling about today's event was that it had a real focus on the lives of people living in poverty in the United States, including the "everyday heroism" that people in New York are exhibiting.  Included on the program of speakers were:

• a lady living in the projects in the Bronx who shared her struggles to keep her children safe in a community with a crumbling playground, no community center, drive-by shootings, and unsafe housing infrastructure;
• a native New Yorker from the "Sure We Can" recycling collective, who questioned whether policy makers would know what it is like to live on food stamps; and
• a military veteran who reflected on the particular resonance he felt for this year's International Day theme, to "leave no one behind".  A four-year volunteer with the Neighbors Together project in Brooklyn, he shared very personal reflections on what it is like to have a criminal record in New York, where one mistake from your past can follow you around forever and leave you facing poverty, joblessness, and hopelessness.

The theme for today's event was developed in close collaboration with people living in poverty around the world, but I was really grateful for the focus on the everyday lives of New Yorkers.

Extreme poverty is a reality for so many people and even though we shine the official spotlight on it every 17 October, I very much enjoyed hearing from people for whom ending extreme poverty - starting in their own community - is a daily commitment.

Cruise with me, baby

I know at times I can be Billy Joel's Uptown Girl, but I also have to confess that every so often, there is something special about escaping New York City to spend the day with Mother Nature.

At 42^nd Street and the Hudson River, you’ll find the dock for Circle Line Sightseeing Cruises.  The company’s fleet offer cruises around Manhattan that vary in duration, and they even have a speedboat called “The Beast” which I suspect is for people much braver than me.

Inspired by the Circle Line's own blog  I took a cruise with the company on Sunday, but mine was a special seasonal adventure.  It took me on a direct journey up the Hudson River to Bear Mountain State Park, which is home to 50 hiking trails, stunning fall foliage, and a fantastic Oktoberfest celebration.

We set off at 9am on Sunday in crystal clear conditions, and as we put-putted up the Hudson River our tour guide pointed out the significant sites along the Manhattan shoreline (including the Cloisters, The Little Red Lighthouse, and the Tappan Zee Bridge – and trust me, these are all future ABCs of NYC adventures).  I have to confess, my attention was repeatedly drawn to the shores of New Jersey on the other side of the river, where there is less infrastructure, and where the fall foliage had definitely taken hold.  Such beautiful colours and gorgeous houses built right into the hillsides.

Arriving at Bear Mountain I was really happy to spot this beautiful yellow tree from the boat; a wonderful omen of the autumnal colours to come.  It had rained all the day before, so I was a bit nervous that the terrain would be slippery but we had no trouble at all.  We hiked up a couple of gentle hills and in less than 15 minutes we walked into the parking lot of the Bear Mountain Inn.  It was exactly the sort of Mountain Man architecture you'd expect to see in a State Park - so much wood, so rugged and unspoilt.  I just loved it!

Bear Mountain got its name because in profile, it apparently looks like a big bear laying down.  The Park hosts about 3 million visitors per year and in fine weather, the place is perfect for hiking (the first section of the Appalachian Trail is up there), but you can also have picnics, row boats, and swim.  There is also a zoo on the site, which actually started as a bear den, but now it hosts a rehabilitation center for a range of injured wildlife.  Come wintertime though, and the ski fields and ice skating rinks are wonderful drawcards for cold weather fans.

On our sunny Sunday visit, the Bear Mountain Inn was doing a fairly quiet trade compared with the raging Oktoberfest happening outside.  So of course, we wandered over to join in the fun.  How relaxing it was to enjoy a bratwurst, with sauerkraut and mustard washed down with an icy cold beer while staring out at a calm lake and the leaves on the trees starting to change into their rust and gold colours.  The trees probably have another week or so to be at their peak of fall brilliance, but they are already looking really beautiful.

So many families had come to the free Oktoberfest celebration and were also enjoying a lake-side picnic in the sunshine.  It was easy to fall into relaxed conversation with the people next to you.  Nobody was in a particular rush to be anywhere, or to do anything in particular.  Manhattan really did feel like half a world away, but I didn't miss the skyscrapers once.

As the afternoon wore on, a polka band entertained the hardcore party people, as lines for the waffles and beer coiled like the giant German pretzels that were also on sale.  I was almost dragged into an impromptu conga line at one stage, but I stood my ground and declined to lose my place in the beer queue.  Watching people do the chicken dance never gets old though, does it?

We all had to be back at the boat for a 3.20pm departure and I am pretty sure we didn’t leave any passengers behind.  Compared with the exuberance of the morning, our boat ride back to Manhattan was much more subdued affair, and I don’t mind admitting that I snoozed for part of the journey.  But fortunately I woke up in time to capture some photographs of the beautiful Manhattan skyline in the fading daylight.  I don’t think I’ll ever tire of those views.

Winter is definitely on its way and we won’t have many more sunny Sundays this year, so I was really glad I could take advantage of this one.  I got to visit a beautiful part of New York State, and peep at the leaves in this beautiful part of the world. 

If you’re coming to New York I would definitely recommend a cruise with Circle Line Sightseeing, but particularly the seasonal Oktoberfest adventure to Bear Mountain.  It’s such a stress-free way to get out of the City for a day and do something a little different with your time here.

Everyday art for everyday folks

A couple of weeks ago you might recall I was rather let down by my inability to understand the art in not one, but two museums that I visited.  Well, I decided to have another go at art appreciation today and I wandered up to Lincoln Square and visited the American Folk Art Museum.

Despite how expansive its website looks, the Museum itself is quite small and the suggested admission is only $5 (and that's on an honesty system).  There is a lovely lady who welcomes you on arrival and tells you in a polite but firm tone that no photos are allowed inside.  Once you start looking around though, you kind of forget about photographing things anyway.

There are two exhibitions currently on display in the Museum, and both galleries are chock-full of brightly-coloured paintings and sculpture that instantly appealed to my inner magpie.

"Bridges" by Ralph Fansanella
Image credit here

One of the exhibitions is by self-taught American artist Ralph Fansanella.  His works are both political but also everyday.  On their face, they depict routine scenes and commonplace activities of ordinary people. But when you look closer, you can see depictions of the Klu Klux Klan, or JFK, or Richard Nixon, or the Pope, or a group of union protesters.  These are vibrant, colourful artworks with very real messages.

Even if you don't have the cultural frames of reference to fully understand the political messaging behind Fansanella's work, you'll surely appreciate the sheer detail it contains.  Every square inch of the canvases are decorated and tell a rich story.

"Tube Station" by Willem van Genk
Image credit here

But if it's detail that floats your boat, head upstairs to the smaller gallery and tour the exhibition called "Mind Traffic" by self-taught Dutch artist Willem van Genk.  I really loved this exhibition.  Every piece of work in the collection is so obviously the product of a very busy mind.  Even before the museum security guard told me, I could have guessed than van Genk was a very private, focussed person.  It turns out that he was more likely autistic (or schizophrenic, if you believe the lady greeting visitors at the Museum entrance).

Whatever his diagnosis, I found van Genk's work really interesting.  There are sculptures and paintings in this exhibition, and each piece is astonishing in its detail.  A kindred spirit for me (I think), van Genk was a huge book nerd, and pored over travel books and maps in particular.  No detail escaped his attention and in the graphic depictions of his "mind palaces", you can see the frustration - almost the mania - in the pen scratches all over his work. He often traced and re-traced lines in his desire to graphically represent everything he remembered.  In van Genk's own words, "these paintings, they are symphonies that spring from your brain".

The American Folk Art Museum is only small and if you're too busy gawking at Lincoln Center across the street, I think you could easily walk past it.  But the collection only takes about an hour to explore and for a $5 donation, I would really recommend you do so.  I can also wholeheartedly endorse the gift shop, which has a great collection of textiles, books, and jewelry.

Park Slope prospers as local foodies unite

Park Slope is a neighbourhood in northwest Brooklyn, and derives its name from its location on the western slope of beautiful Prospect Park. 

Only four years ago, New York magazine rated Park Slope the most desirable neighbourhood in New York City, owing to its enviable architecture, diverse historical and cultural treasures, and its up-and-coming bar and dining scenes.  You can see the full article here.

Fast forward to 2014 and you’ll find that Park Slope is still a dynamic and diverse community and definitely worth a visit. It’s a decidedly residential neighbourhood, full of “Sesame Street” brownstones lining quiet avenues. It also has its share of trendy bars and cafés, favourably reviewed on sites like Yelp and Time Out New York, and they’re all an easy stroll from Prospect Park and the Brooklyn Botanic Garden. 

Park Slope is obviously the kind of place that takes good care of its visitors, but its residents seem pretty proud to hang around too.  Residents can check out the blog “Here’s Park Slope” (also on Facebook and Twitter) and get the latest gossip on neighbourhood happenings and local events.  And it was in celebration of this kind of community spirit that I came to Park Slope last night.

Annette Slonim has lived in Park Slope for a little over two years, and she loves its wide, leafy streets and family atmosphere.  A long-time foodie and farmers market devotee, Annette also loves eating well, supporting her local community, and meeting other people who share these values.

Farm freshness with
Farmigo - image credit

A few months ago, Annette volunteered to be a community organiser with a company called Farmigo (pronounced Farmeego). With operations in the San Francisco Bay Area, and now in New York, Farmigo is more or less a giant, online farmers market.  New York customers have access to about 35 local farmers and food artisans that sell their wares online.  Each week the producers fill online orders of the freshest, seasonal ingredients and they deliver them to a range of pick-up points across the city. And because the products are all from nearby, purchasing them supports New York’s economy and local industry.

As a community organiser in Park Slope, Annette has about 15-20 regular customers in her network, but this number is steadily growing.  Every Wednesday night from 7-9pm, Annette’s customers meet her at Café Dada, a charming French-Hungarian placed not far from the Grand Army Plaza subway station, and collect their online orders.  Annette’s only kick-back for being a Farmigo community organiser is a small discount on her own orders.  As Annette puts it, her real reward is the chance to meet her local customers face-to-face, and even a quick conversation can transact a shared love of good food, eating healthy, and celebrating the local produce of the area.  

Of course there are other farm-fresh food co-operatives in Park Slope and across New York, but I think smaller ventures are always worth a try.  They’re a great way to support local businesses, but also to meet local residents in your neighbourhood who know the social, economic, and environmental value of sourcing fresh, locally-grown produce. 

There is no fee to join Farmigo, no minimum order, and no pressure to order every week.  You can shop whenever you like, and arrange a pick-up for whatever location suits you best.  But if you’re in the Park Slope area, make sure you sign up to Annette’s Farmigo pick-up site – she’d love to meet you and welcome you to the neighbourhood.

A change is as good as a holiday

As the seasons change in this part of the world, it becomes very popular to head up the coast for some "leaf peeping"; a chance to take a road trip into the countryside and see the brilliant autumn colours in full effect.  It's also the season for pumpkin patches, apple picking, and buying home-made fruit pies by the side of the road in tiny country towns.  My friends took full advantage of this weather change this weekend, and I offered to take care of their Upper East Side apartment, and babysit their two adorable dogs.

It is not unusual to have dogs in New York apartments - indeed, most of the tenants in my building in Chelsea have a dog or two each.  But as much as I love dogs, I still haven't felt the push to get one.  Having said that, I absolutely love any puppy time I can get.  And how could I go wrong with these two fluffy charges?

From Thursday night to Sunday night it was just me, Gus (on the left - an older, distinguished and rather deaf Jack Russell) and his brother-from-another-mother, Harry (perhaps a bit of  Jack Russell but definitely mixed with something else too).  I have known Gus since my days working in London, where he was quite partial to taking me for walks (via the pub) and then veering off into his neighbourhood park for a good sniff-around.  Harry is much younger, and this is his first diplomatic posting.  Harry has taken to New York life with great gusto, walking confidently on the lead with both ears perked up, on full alert for adventure.  Both Gus and Harry are celebrities in their neighbourhood, and have sussed out which doormen and residents have dog biscuits in their pockets.  And as a trespasser on their turf, I allowed the boys to show me their hood.  And so we were up with the birds on Saturday and Sunday, but we walked the blocks like we owned the Upper East Side - even stopping off for coffee at the delicious Oslo (the caffeine was for me, not the pooches).

It rained almost non-stop on Saturday but after the morning walk with the boys, I took myself to Jones Wood Foundry on East 76th Street for some brunch.  I had been there for beers and dinner ages ago and it's a great English pub that has a delicious food menu too.  When you get up really early on a weekend, and because the streets are quiet, you kind of lose track of time a bit.  It felt like I'd been awake forever, but it turns out I got to the pub a little after the brunch menu opened at 11am. At that hour of the day, the dining room only had one other couple in it but for some reason, I was seated one table away from them (why do servers do that!?).  Whatever hopes that poor couple had for a private chat were dashed by my presence, though I did my best to blend in with the furniture and quietly read my book.  As I was finishing my delicious Scotched Woodcock (toasted crumpet with anchovy butter, smoked salmon, soft scrambled egg and a salad), a table of four screechy girls was seated next to me.  That was definitely my cue to leave.  Why do girls have to shout, when they're less than three feet away from each other?  Maybe I was ready for a nap.  In the drizzling rain that lasted all day, there wasn't much else to do anyway.  Gus and Harry were certainly pleased to have me home and we curled up to watch some quality cable TV (another advantage of looking after somebody else's apartment).

Sunday morning we woke up early and took off for our routine walk.  Saturday's rain had moved on and left a clear blue sky in its place, but we also had a frosty, cold wind - hardly helped by the fast-moving East River right by the apartment.  Still, you can't fault that view.

Gus, Harry, and I braved the cold weather and walked for a few more blocks but it wasn't long before I felt the familiar tug on the leads, and I knew we were heading back to the warmth of the apartment (and breakfast time for the boys).  Once I had them settled in, I walked in search of my own sustenance, this time in the opposite direction to the day before.  I randomly wandered into Trend Diner on 2nd Avenue, which offered up typical diner fare, but I always think that diner breakfasts taste so much better than anything I could rustle up for myself.

Long stretches of Second Avenue on the Upper East Side have been under construction for a number of years.  The City is still building the 2nd Avenue subway tracks and a lot of the stores are buried behind lots of scaffolding.  They're not expected to open the new line until 30 December 2016, but having a subway line running underneath 2nd Avenue will just open up the whole eastern side of Manhattan.  It will be great, and will certainly ease the pressure on the 6 train that runs underneath Lexington & Park Avenues, and carries a huge burden right now.  I remember when I was looking for an apartment a few years ago, and brokers kept trying to convince me to rent something along this Second Avenue construction zone.  The prices were right (of course) but I don't think I could put up with jackhammers and scaffolding at all hours - not even for the distant promise of a subway!

Another great advantage to temporary Upper East Side living is that the apartment I was minding has a full kitchen.  It's not even a large kitchen really, but it's a whole lot bigger than the one in my studio, so I got well acquainted with it today.  I fixed a delicious (and huge) vegetarian chili courtesy of Jamie Oliver.  It was so hearty and tasty and because I cooked it early this morning, it was just right to eat by the time Harry and Gus welcomed their parents back home tonight.

I'm now back in my own place in Chelsea and even though I only have to unpack an overnight bag, it still feels like I've had a real adventure this weekend.  I got out of my usual routine and I was fortunate to have two handsome boys show me their neighbourhood.  Nobody gave me any treats from their pockets of course, but I suspect I should probably be grateful for that!

Orange jumpsuits and green thumbs

When Sergeant Benson and the Law & Order SVU squad send perps to Rikers Island in the Bronx, nobody ever mentions the Farm Program or the Greenhouse Project, two horticultural initiatives available to minimum-security inmates.  These programs include indoor classroom lessons on issues like soil science and rainwater collection, combined with outdoor, hands-on gardening skills.  Statistics suggset that only 5-10 percent of participants in these green-thumb programs are likely to reoffend, compared with 65 percent of the general prison population that do so. 

Rikers Island has actually been arable land for hundreds of years, back when Dutch resident Abraham Riker had his family farm on the site and crops and livestock thrived.  In the period after the Civil War, prisoners from the jam-packed jail on Roosevelt Island would be brought over to the “Municipal Farm” to tend the vegetable patches and the piggery. 

In 1884, the City formally purchased the Island from descendants of the Riker family, to begin construction on what would become the world’s largest penal colony.  By this time, parts of Rikers Island were being used as the city’s garbage dump, and clean-up operations and land stabilisation would take another 40 years to complete. 

Construction on the 413-acre Rikers Island penitentiary complex commenced in 1932, and when the prison complex opened three years later, horticulture therapy was part of inmate rehabilitation programming from the very beginning.