A mile of magnificence, and then some

Daniel Burnham was a splendidly-mustachioed American architect and planner, charged with rebuilding the City of Chicago after the Great Chicago Fire of 1871.  To my mind, the best quote ever attributed to Burnham was "make no little plans; they have no magic to stir men's blood" and I think it perfectly characterises Burnham's approach to the 'new' Chicago.

One of the prime ingredients in Burnham's 1909 restoration plan for Chicago was a new commercial centre for the City, that would create retail opportunities away from overcrowded State Street.  With the opening of the Michigan Avenue bridge in 1920, the city was ready to give full expression to Burnham's vision for this busy district.

Regrettably, Daniel Burnham died eight years before The Magnificent Mile sprang to life, but I am fairly confident he would love what it has become.

The Magnificent Mile is the 13-block stretch of Michigan Avenue that runs from the Chicago River in the south to Oak Street in the north.  In that area alone, residents and visitors alike are spoiled with "460 stores, 275 restaurants, 60 hotels and unique entertainments", which includes art galleries and museums.  You can download official maps here to see what I mean.

If you're only in Chicago for a short time, and shopping's not really your thing, you should still walk the Mag Mile to get a feel for exactly what this amazing city has to offer.  We did exactly that on our second morning in Chicago and it was fantastic.  My friend Bolts had flown in from NYC to join us for her maiden visit to Chitown and we were so pleased to have her along.  

After a restorative brunch at super-popular Yolk, we headed back to Michigan Avenue and walked up and down the wide, clean promenades past the shops.  More than once, we remarked how lovely it was to have plenty of space on Michigan Avenue.  Had this been New York, we would have been pushing and jostling with people already.  Such a lovely change of pace for us.

Before long, we were back at the Michigan Avenue bridge and the top of the Magnificent Mile.  We crossed over the frosty Chicago River, which the City would dye green for St Patrick's Day less than a month after our visit.  Hard to believe the ice would have melted in time, no?

As we have already seen, the Magnificent Mile part of Michigan Avenue is dominated by shops, hotels, and restaurants.  But walk across the Michigan Avenue bridge and continue walking south, and you're into The Loop (Chicago's central business district).  You'll quickly note that the architecture becomes decidedly different here.  To the west, you've got big office buildings the occasional high-rise apartment residences.  But to the east, you've got beautiful Lake Michigan and some of the most elegant parklands and cultural institutions you'll see anywhere.

Case in point, we headed into Grant Park, named for decorated Civil War veteran and 18th President of the United States, Ulysses S. Grant.  This park is actually a monster, covering 319 hectares of prime lakefront real estate.  Locally referred to as "Chicago's front yard", Grant Park is put to sensational use throughout the year for a range of public events, music concerts, food festivals, and sports.  

The blustering winds and frosty weather prevented us from exploring Grant Park in its entirety, but we did stop to admire "The Bean", the world-famous sculpture in the Millennium Park section.  The sculpture's actual name is "Cloud Gate" and it was installed in 2006.  Created by Indian-born British artist, Anish Kapoor, The Bean stands 120-feet tall and is comprised of 168 shiny, stainless-steel plates welded together.  During installation, each plate underwent a 5-stage construction process and the end result is that they appear to have been fused together seamlessly.  Even on the cold day that we visited, you can see that the sun shines brilliantly off The Bean's mirrored surface.  Kapoor's vision was always that his sculpture would be publicly accessible but of course, that means The Bean gets pretty dirty.  Annual cleaning costs are estimated between $35,000 and $50,000 which are met through an annual endowment - no public tax dollars are used.

The Bean also overlooks the McCormick Tribune Ice Rink and we watched a bunch of ice skaters navigate their course, with varying degrees of success.  Anyone not brave or coordinated enough to skate should definitely call into the adjacent Park Grill Chicago, where the cocktails are unapologetically strong.

Our art and people appreciation in Grant Park wasn't quite done yet.  We walked past Crown Fountain in Millennium Park, which is one of the most fun places to people watch in summer.  Unfortunately, based on my photos below, Crown Fountain requires a bit more imagination in the winter.

As you can (hopefully) see, the fountains are huge free-standing structures, about 50 feet tall.  They use over 1 million LEDs to display the faces of Chicago residents that change expressions frequently. Between May and October, the faces pout and basically spit water out of their mouths.  The fountains are separated by a large granite slab (covered by the snow in my pictures).  Water spurts out of holes in the slab too, and many children play and splash in the water spouts during the warmer months.

Our final stop on the Grant Park whistle-stop tour was the gorgeous Art Institute of Chicago.  We didn't go inside this time (300,000 works of art being quite beyond us at this point), but I couldn't help but admire the majestic lions standing guard at the entrance.  Reminiscent of the New York Public Library, no?  Fans of "Ferris Bueller's Day Off" will of course recognise this building as one of the destinations that Ferris, Cameron, and Sloane visit in the City when they play hooky from school.   And who knows, if you come inside the Art Institute, you might be just as mesmerised by George Seurat's "A Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte" as Cameron was.

Whether it's shopping, food, art or architecture that floats your boat, Chicago's Michigan Avenue has it all. On our recent visit in frosty February, we only scratched the surface of the Magnificent Mile and the gorgeous parklands - there is just so much more to see.

Nothing to sneeze at here

Every year in late March to early April, the ground floor of Macy's in Herald Square blooms in the brightest of colours at the annual Flower Show.  Signaling the impending arrival of spring, the Flower Show is definitely an iconic event for the store and thousands more shoppers stream through the doors to get a look at the inventive displays.

This year's show is called "Art In Bloom" and flowers carpet the floor and even parts of the ceiling!  With a combination of flowers and pretty lights, I'm a floral fan for sure.

Book nerds, unite!

One of the girls in my office recommended I subscribe to the New York Times website.  Not for the articles, she said, but for the events calendar published online every day.  When I finally took her advice, it was like New York City opened up for me.  Work has been insanely busy so it has been a while since I browsed the website, but I am so glad I looked at it this morning.

Not only did I learn about The Grolier Club on NYC's Upper East Side, but I toured A Legacy More Lasting Than Bronze, a fascinating exhibition of Italian Renaissance book publisher, Aldus Manutius.  If you've ever opened a book, much less read one, you owe a debt of gratitude to Aldus and his family.  Check out my photo album below to find out why.

Post by The ABCs of NYC.

The Griswolds Take Manhattan...again!

Mum and Dad came to town and the snow finally fell.  Mum was especially pleased.  Buttoning up our winter coats, we braved the elements and took off exploring, capturing some of the city icons at their best.  How we didn't get blown off The High Line in the Arctic breeze is anyone's guess!

My parents are in New York for a couple of weeks, and I took a few days off to show them around. These are just some early photos of our adventures.
Posted by The ABCs of NYC on Saturday, February 21, 2015

Touring New York's "Cathedral of Commerce"

In 1878, Frank Woolworth invented the concept of the "five and dime" discount store - a place where everything cost either 5 or 10 cents, and all the merchandise was on display.  Shoppers could see and touch what they wanted to buy; they didn't need shop assistants to fetch things for them.  We take this practice for granted these days but back then, Woolworth's retail model was revolutionary.  And his customers loved it so much that by 1911, when Mr Woolworth formally founded his company, he was worth many millions of dollars.

Business was going so well that Woolworth hired a famous architect named Cass Gilbert to design his company's corporate headquarters on Broadway, further requesting that it should be the tallest building in the world.  Gilbert had designed the beautiful US Customs House in New York a few years before, so Woolworth was confident he would design something extra special.  Gilbert got to work and two years later, in 1913, The Woolworth Building was complete.

 It stood proud at 793 feet tall and was, as requested, the tallest building in the world (at that time).  To secure such a record, Woolworth is purported to have kicked in the cash for the building's tower out of his own pocket (more than $13 million!).  But the investment was worth it because at the opening ceremony, the majestic Woolworth Building was declared by many to be New York's "Cathedral of Commerce".

Now back in the early days of skyscrapers, the giant Woolworth Building would have been a tourist drawcard in itself.  People marveled at the neo-Gothic architecture, the gargoyles, and intricate carvings around the main entrance.  But inside, office workers had down time at the indoor swimming pool, the day spa, the observation deck, and the restaurant and retail stores in the lower level.  And the subway even used to run right underneath, so commuting to and from the tallest building in the world was a breeze.

All of these attractions aside, I reckon that even back when the Woolworth Building was first constructed, people must have remembered it for the same reason that we do today: the lobby.  When he designed the lobby, Cass Gilbert totally outdid himself.  It is a beautifully ornate, almost church-like space.  The ceiling has tiny mosaic tiles all over it,  some of which have been coated with gold leaf to give them extra sparkle.  Tiffany won the contract to design the lobby's elevator doors, and they are especially fancy.  There are marble carvings in the cornices - some of them depict leading figures of the time (including Cass Gilbert himself, cradling a plaster model of the building - see below), but other carvings are those of nonsense characters, put there for a bit of fun.

Another fun detail is the inclusion of salamanders in the carvings.  Did you know that according to legend, salamanders are impervious to flames and can actually extinguish fire?  Apparently, lots of buildings all across New York City have salamanders featured in their carvings and metalwork etc to protect the buildings from fire hazards (figuratively, at least).  The Woolworth Building was constructed to stand the test of time - fire safety was foremost in Cass Gilbert's mind and the only wood in the whole place was actually in the banisters in the internal stairwells.  Superstitious though it may be, you can see the salamanders in the gold work of the mailboxes in the Woolworth Building lobby (see him on the bottom left of the photo here?).  Needless to say, I will have to keep my eyes open for more salamanders in other buildings from now on!

You used to be able to wander in off the street and browse the Woolworth Building lobby but not anymore.  These days, access is by guided tour only (you can book them online here), but it's absolutely worth it.  The lobby of the Woolworth Building is just beautiful.  I did a one-hour tour yesterday and our guide (Lisa) was sensational.  She confessed to spending much of her private time at the New-York Historical Society, reviewing the original plans of the building and reading the original correspondence about its construction and development, which they have stored in their archives there.  The trivia Lisa shared with us came from her own exhaustive research, not from anything she parroted from the internet or read off some tired tour script.  It was absolutely wonderful and well worth the $30 ticket price.  I only pasted a couple of photos from the tour because so many of them were blurry, or just didn't do the splendor of the lobby justice.  I would definitely encourage you to add the Woolworth Building to your bucket list of NYC adventures.

Art lives here

Walk along Washington Street in the West Village and you'll be struck by the beautiful old brownstone buildings nestled amongst some of the coolest coffee shops and little restaurants in the City.  It becomes very clear that this part of the West Village is a real residential neighbourhood - the traffic is quieter, the sidewalks are less congested, and everything seems more calm somehow.

But it wasn't always like this.

Westbeth Inner Courtyard
Image credit here

At the corner of Washington and Bethune Streets, you see a maze of 13 buildings that occupy an entire city block.  From the 1860s, this was the headquarters of Bell Laboratories, the largest industrial facility in the world.  They were responsible for innovations like televisions (black & white and colour), radar, vacuum tubes, and they also masterminded the first broadcast of a baseball game. But did you know they also hosted the headquarters of part of The Manhattan Project during WW2?  Atomic bomb research, you guys!  Serious stuff happened here.  No wonder NYC has preserved the building as a landmark and added it to the US National Reigster of Historic Places.

When Bell Laboratories relocated to New Jersey in the 1960s the buildings were renovated to become self-contained loft apartments.  At the time, the Greenwich Village/West Village neighbourhood was a haven for artists and musicians, so when the building was transformed (and federally-subsidized) into the Westbeth Artists Community, and they advertised affordable housing, tenants came running.  Before long, Westbeth became the world's largest artist residence and home to a creative community of visual, literary, and performing artists from across the country.

Forget about trying to get an apartment in the building these days, because the housing waiting list closed in 2007 (bummer).  Nevertheless the artists in residence are still producing some beautiful work that the building cleverly displays in its corridors and on its walls. 

I would also recommend you visit the Westbeth Gallery, the building's dedicated exhibition space.  The Gallery is a non-profit site that showcases the talent of its resident artists but also hosts independently-curated exhibitions.  The Gallery is open from Wednesday to Sunday, from 1-6pm and admission is free.  

From now until 29 November, the Gallery is exhibiting the work of the Bowery Gallery Founding Members.  The Bowery Gallery was born on Halloween 1969, as a gallery of artists for artists.  The founding members argued that they didn't need to exhibit their work in fancy galleries or be represented by big-ticket agents with lots of money. The figured if the art was worthwhile, it would find its way to an audience.  It is a group exhibition featuring the work of 19 artists from the late 1960s to the present day.  I loved the mixed media, and the bright colours and diversity of the artwork in this exhibition - it was great to explore watercolours, sculpture, drawings, and oils all in one space.  You'll see the link to my photo album at the bottom of this page.

And if you're in the neighbourhood this coming Saturday (15 November), you must visit the Flea Market in the basement for their $5 bag & box sale.  For a $5 donation, you can take an empty box or garbage bag and fill it up with all manner of goods that the artists and their families have donated.  You'll find clothes, books, shoes, furniture, homewares - only jewellery and fine art are exempt from the bargains.  Get there early to avoid disappointment!  All proceeds go towards the upkeep of the Westbeth Housing Community and surrounding public areas.

Post by The ABCs of NYC.

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!

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.

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.

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.

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.

It's a library, but you can't touch the books

For a book nerd like me, The Morgan Library & Museum in New York's Murray Hill neighbourhood is an absolute delight.  This isn't a lending library, but rather it's a wonderful museum that contains the enormous and diverse book and manuscript collection of American financier, John Pierpont Morgan.

The man we've all come to know as J.P Morgan commissioned the construction of his private library in 1903 and it took architect Charles Follen McKim three years to complete it.  Built of pink Tennessee marble, in the Italian Renaissance style, the building was situated adjacent to Morgan's home and it was an imposing and impressive addition to Madison Avenue real estate.

For many years the building was simply known as "Mr Morgan's Library" but is now officially called "The Morgan Library & Museum".  It was designated a national historic landmark in 2006 and underwent a careful restoration in 2010, just before I arrived in New York and promptly fell in love with it.  Every time I visit, I still love being in JP Morgan's private study, then passing through the beautiful rotunda, before exploring the three-storey walnut shelving of the breathtaking East Room (the original library).

Aside from some beautiful items from JP Morgan's collection that are permanently on display, including one of three of his copies of the famous Gutenberg Bible, The Morgan Library & Museum also has temporary exhibitions throughout the year.  I did zero research on these today, knowing that whatever the Library had chosen to exhibit would be wonderful.  Indeed, I was particularly taken with the "From Gatsby to Garp" collection, and the beautiful "Marks of Genius: Treasures of the Bodleian Library" (which I was not allowed to photograph).

I have probably told you a couple of times that I judge a museum or art gallery by the quality of its gift shop, and I certainly feel that the Morgan Library Shop is one of the very best in New York City.  I never walk out of this place empty-handed and today was no exception.  I am now the proud owner of a delightful (if not slightly morbid) book entitled, "Stories in Stone: A Field Guide to New York City Area Cemeteries and their Residents", and a fantastic little deck of NYC trivia cards called "What Happened Here?".  But if you're looking for books for children, or some great desk calendars, or beautiful photography books, the Morgan Library Shop can provide.  You will not be disappointed.

I know it's not as good as the real thing, but please take a look at the photographs from today's visit.  I've done my best to put descriptions against each one, so you know what you're seeing:

Post by The ABCs of NYC.