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.

New York's fizzer blizzard

The snow plows still haven't
made it to East 74th Street!

I know it has been a long time between posts, but I've been moving out of my apartment and it has been a particularly stressful time.  The whole process has taught me a lot about the ups and downs of NY real estate and I'll definitely share those stories soon.

For now though, the City is recovering from Winter Storm Juno (aka The Blizzard That Wasn't).  Now I lived in Chicago for nearly four years so I'm used to snowy conditions, but today was my very first Snow Day ever, and I made the most of it with a decent sleep-in, hot cups of tea, and generally not moving too far from the sofa.

All the hype yesterday suggested that Winter Storm Juno was going to bring New York City to an utter standstill, and the commute home last night was really awful.  Buses crawled down the road in almost white-out conditions.  Blustering wind whipped up snowflakes so they seemed to be coming from all sides, ending up stinging your eyeballs and freezing your face.  But even though the going was slow and frustrating, as this gallery from Gothamist shows, a snowy City is still a pretty City.

Buildings signs are still covered by a
dusting of white, clean snow

Residents across New York responded to the Mayor's warnings by clearing out supermarket shelves - bread, milk, artisan cheeses, and lots of potato chips and pretzels.  We also seemed to decide that drinking through the storm was a sensible idea, with alcohol sales in New York and Boston up an impressive 477% percent!

As we all emerged from our collective hangover this morning, NYC residents no doubt expected to see a City paralysed by white-out snow, no cabs, and mass transit shut-downs.  The reality was different of course.  

Manhattan still ended up with about 8 inches of snow courtesy of Winter Storm Juno, and the streets were eerily quiet the day after, but the Mayor was right - we dodged a bullet, ending up with only about a third of the snow that was initially forecast.

Give it a rest!

Much like Garfield, I've always been more partial to lasagne than Mondays, but I have to say that I'm facing this week with renewed vigour.  I think this is largely the result of putting myself to bed at 8pm on Saturday and Sunday nights this past weekend.  Two consecutive evenings of excellent sleep seem to have done the trick.  New York City may not sleep but at some point, its residents must.

Back in the early 1800s, the hustle-bustle of New York City ended at 14th Street and everything north of that was farmland.  The air was fresher, you could swim in the East River without contracting something nasty, and the wide open spaces that weren't being farmed were being used for horse riding and for quiet walks.  And it was to areas like these that busy New Yorkers flocked when they needed rest and recuperation.

The Mount Vernon Hotel is one of the oldest buildings in New York.  Built as a carriage house in 1799, the building once sat on a sprawling estate owned by the daughter of former US President John Adams.  The property chanegd hands a number of times over the years and the carriage house operated as a hotel from 1826 to 1833, and was a hugely popular spot for daytrippers from the southern parts of Manhattan.

Mount Vernon's location, on what is now residential East 61st Street, may seem quiet by New York standards, but it's still opposite one of the busiest Bed, Bath & Beyond stores in the City, and in the shadow of the bustling Queensboro Bridge which is trafficked by 183,000 cars and nearly 800 bicycles per day. 

In fact, if you ride the tram over the Queensboro Bridge to Roosevelt Island, and look out the northern side of the tram as you pull away from Manhattan, you get a great birds-eye view of the Hotel.  See?  My sincere thanks to the lovely Gaynor Shaw for her excellent photography!

These days, the Mount Vernon Hotel is run as a museum - a time capsule, really.  When you go there, you're transported back to a quieter period, when New Yorkers would check in early morning and spend the day in pure leisure.  Ladies would retire to the upper rooms for reading, sewing, listening to music, or catching up on the local gossip.  Men would sit downstairs and play card games, smoke cigars, and (no doubt) enjoy a pint or two of the local brews.

Male visitors to Mount Vernon would have been especially fortunate because their downstairs location put them in easy reach of the delicious smells emanating from the busy hotel kitchen.  The small complement of hotel staff would serve a lunch of delicacies such as turtle soup, or roasted meats and vegetables - all included in the daily hotel rate.

In those days, it was rare for visitors to stay overnight at the Mount Vernon Hotel.  It really was just a retreat for the day - a chance to recharge your batteries before once more heading back into the fray.  But one story I particularly liked was that of Scottish traveller, James Stuart, who stayed overnight at Mount Vernon as part of a three-year tour around America.  During his US visit, Stuart was enormously critical of American manners (or lack thereof) and he documented his many complaints throughout his rather rare volume, Three Years in America. Of course I had to buy the first volume of this work from the Museum bookstore afterwards, to see how he finds New Yorkers.  I suspect it will make rather compelling reading.

Mount Vernon Hotel has been beautifully restored and is staffed by friendly, knowledgable tour guides.  Admission to the Museum is $8 for adults, $7 for seniors and students with appropriate ID.  Children under 12 can get in for free, but must be accompanied by an adult.  The Hotel also runs education programs for NYC school students, and there is a donation box in the lobby.  Even if you just deposit a couple of dollars, your contribution will ensure these valuable programs continue.

Another thing to bear in mind is that you're not allowed to take photographs inside the Hotel but outside photos are fine.  The Hotel maintains a beautifully-landscaped back garden that gets a lot of sun.  Sure, the garden is much smaller than the estate's originally 23 acres, but for a New Yorker who is more accustomed to living in a one-room studio apartment, it was a very restful oasis indeed.

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!

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.

I've got a short little span of attention

The Asia Society in New York on Park Avenue offers so many events throughout the year that I could probably devote this entire blog to them.  They are committed to promoting cross-cultural awareness through the arts, business, education, and policy, so there is always going to be something on their busy Events Calendar that will appeal to you.

In my case, it was tonight's special event; namely, the annual celebration to showcase the latest and most exciting short films from Australia.

Now I've been in New York for three years already, but I've been away from Australia for nearly ten, and I have to say it still delights me to see and hear Americans respond so positively to my country.  Indeed, the audience reaction to tonight's short films suggested that there was a great degree of fondness for Australia in the room.

The guard in "Still Life"

The first film we watched is called "Still Life", produced and directed by Martin Sharpe from Victoria.  You can view the film by clicking here.  A finalist at the Tropfest film festival in 2013, this 6-minute animated film tells a beautiful and very simple story about taking risks to find a happy ending.

The second film we saw is called "Joey", a live-action short film in black and white. It tells the rather unsettling story of a man who shoplifts goods which he then sells to a stream of baddies for cash.  You learn that Joey has a son and you get the sense that he's stealing these things and then selling them because he's trying to give his son a better life.  The sad part about this short film, however, is that it didn't seem to go anywhere - nobody was quite sure what to make of it tonight. So even though it won three awards at the St Kilda Festival in 2013 (Best Short Film, Best Director, and Best Actor), and even screened at other Festivals around Australia, tonight's audience didn't really respond to it.  No applause afterwards.  Awkward.

A charming scene from
"A Cautionary Tail"

There was no danger of a repeat when it came to the third film on tonight's program; a lovely 15-minute animation called "A Cautionary Tail".  Featuring the voice talents of veteran Australian actors Cate Blanchett, David Wenham and Barry Otto, this was a truly adorable film about accepting yourself the way you are.  Featuring 3D animated characters, hand-made miniature sets, and a smart, funny script this is an award-winning and lovely little film that went over well in the room tonight, and did very well in Australia too.

One of the best things about tonight's film screening at the Asia Society is the order in which the films played.  You went from being comfortable, to feeling awkward, to being charmed, and then film number four comes along and you go back to being weirded out again.

Matilda Brown as the iMom

Film number four is entitled "The iMom" and is a 14-minute, live-action social commentary about our reliance on modern electronics (and having the best model of electronics) in the marketplace to help make our lives easier.  You can view the trailer here.  It is only a short film, but it is very dark - and you're aware right from the start that there is something sinister going on; that one family's reliance on technology is going to cost them dearly.  The applause after this film was only light, but I think that's just because we were all still reeling from the ending.

To say the fifth film was a palate cleanser is a total understatement.  "Gus" by director and producer Andrew Martin is an adorable 8-minute animation about a little caveman (caveboy?) and his dad.  They're cast out of their tribe because of Gus's gastrointestinal "issues", but through a series of comical adventures they turn the negative into a positive for an ultimate happy ending.  This film won Best Comedy (animation) at the 2013 St Kilda Festival and it's not hard to see why.  You can view a brief trailer here.

From a film about being accepted for who you are, we moved to a film about finding out who you are (whether that proves to be a good idea or not).  The second-to-last film in the line-up tonight was "Sleight of Hand" and you can view a trailer here.  The story was actually quite charming - a movie within a movie, really.  And I quite like stop-motion animation films like this one - so clever, because you know how time-consuming they are.  "Sleight of Hand" won Best Short Animation Film at the Santa Barbara International Film Festival in 2013, and has screened at a bunch of other festivals in Australia and abroad.

Luke Ryan in "Dave's Dead"

In her introduction tonight, film festival curator Susan Talbot warned us that the final film in the line-up would be confronting - bad language and characters behaving in a very naughty way.  She was not sugar-coating it.

"Dave's Dead" is a highly irreverent (and therefore typically Australian) production, directed by Alethea Jones.  The 15-minute live-action film stars a number of unfamiliar actors, alongside the wonderfully devilish Paul Robinson from "Neighbours" (whose IMDB profile photo you MUST see, for it will cheer you up immensely).  The whole film is actually available here and it's worth a look for sure.  A number of laugh-out-loud moments that you immediately regret because they're so inappropriate, which just makes you laugh even harder.  This film won the Audience Choice Award at the St Kilda Festival in 2013, and tonight's New York audience probably would have awarded it the same.

I'd never been to the Asia Society in New York before and up until about a week ago I had never heard about their annual Australian short film festival.  I need to find a way to get on the mailing list so I don't miss next year's event though.  This was a great chance to reconnect with the Australian sense of humour and also to celebrate a couple of short, sharp and shiny treasures that have come out of my country in recent times.  I was really pleased to see the (predominantly) American audience respond so well to them too.

Soothing the savage beast

Believe it or not, this little blog turned 3 months old yesterday, and right now you're reading the 104th story I've posted.  No prizes for guessing why I've been so tired lately, huh?  I gave myself Tuesday night off and slept for 11 hours straight - it was blissful.

A taste of home at Pie Face

Waking up to a cool but clear Wednesday I walked up the sunny side of West 23rd Street and into Pie Face for a tasty coffee to get my heart properly started.  Buoyed by the caffeine, I rode the #1 subway to Times Square, where I switched over to the #7 train to take me to the office.  A fairly normal Wednesday, as far as these things go.

Little did I know that my routine commute was about to become something special, because waiting for me on the platform at Times Square was the limited-edition Seinfeld Subway, a special promotion by the MTA and local TV station WPIX.  The Seinfeld Subway has been decorated to look like Monk's Cafe, the fictional diner from the Seinfeld TV show, and they've done a really great job of it.  The promotion has only been going since Monday (May 12th) to signal the start of nightly Seinfeld re-runs at 11pm, but it also marks the commencement of the baseball season (because once the #7 train drops me off at work, it continues up to the Citi Field ballpark in Queens).  The promotion only lasts for a month, and even though the train was typically crowded this morning, I could tell the new decor was lifting our collective mood.

Delicious coffee at Cafe Grumpy

A few hours into the work day, it was time for another coffee hit and I was so pleased to discover that Cafe Grumpy has opened across the street, next door to the Grand Central Market.  If you watch the TV series "Girls", you might recognise the Cafe Grumpy store in Greenpoint, Brooklyn as the place where Lena Dunham's character "works".  Anyway, the Grand Central location is the cafe's sixth store in New York and I'm glad it's there, especially because it is open from 6am to 9pm each weekdays, and from 7am to 8pm on weekends.  I love it when Midtown presents me with great coffee options - cause we've already discussed the coffee drought in this hood! 

So my commute pleased me, and my coffee excursions made me happy, and I was very eager that my day continue in that vein.  Tonight after work, we hosted a reception for the Australian delegates to the UN's Permanent Forum on Indigenous Issues, which runs to the 23rd of May.  It's great when Australians come to visit New York because so many are here for the first time, and it's great to hear them gush about their first impressions of this big city.  In the case of some of tonight's delegates, their towns only have two coffee shops, so they're totally overwhelmed in a place like this.

"Black Cockatoo" at the
Australian Consulate, NY

Aside from the good company and delicious Australian wines and beers, we were treated to a wonderful performance by the Indigenous Australian dance troupe called "Black Cockatoo".  The haunting song they performed tonight was just a taste of their upcoming shows at the Asia Society New York (which I'll attend on Friday), The Museum of Natural History, and a cultural show up in the Bronx.  All this and getting around at the UN for the Permanent Forum means they'll definitely be sleeping well on the plane home!

Brick Church

But my wonderful day wasn't quite over yet, and I headed to the Upper East Side to the Brick Presbyterian Church on Park Avenue to hear my friend perform in her choir.  The Dalton Chorale is a very different ensemble to the Melodia Women's Choir I heard a few weekends ago.  For one thing, the Dalton Chorale has been around for about 22 years and the material they chose to sing tonight was decidedly more sacred than Melodia's (though they do sing secular songs too).  Their concert tonight was entitled, Music from the English Choral Tradition.

Listening to my friend's choir tonight, I still found it hard to accept that they are a bunch of amateurs.  Their voices melded beautifully and the acoustics in the church were (are) incredible.  I'll admit I got quite engrossed in the music and even though the guy in front of me was following along with the singing in the program, I gave up on understanding all the words and just listened to the sounds instead.

The interior of the Church is beautiful too.  As you can see, the ceiling just soars and there are beautiful gold accents everywhere.  The Church was founded in 1767 but has only been in this Upper East Side location since 1940.  The Sanctuary Organ is designated a City Landmark- the majestic sound of it easily fills the whole space, and tonight's program included a couple of organ solos to show it off to full effect.

Unlike the Melodians, the Dalton Chorale is a mixed choir that specialises in works dating from the 17th the 21st Centuries.  Dalton's season is also at an end now, and they're also taking a break for a few months.  Their next performance is not until December.

When I read back over this 104th blog post, I get the sense that my Wednesday was a terribly full day - but it didn't feel so crazy.  Maybe today was so good because of my great sleep last night, or perhaps it was the delicious coffees I had, or the rousing musical performances I was fortunate to enjoy.  Or perhaps, as I'd like to think, it was a mix of all of these things that combined to make a great Wednesday in the Big Apple.

A bookish exhibition, one hundred years in the making

New York has finally turned on the spring sunshine, and so by lunchtime I was ready to break out of my office and get some fresh air.

I left the Midtown rush behind and headed to the (much) quieter surrounds of the New York Society Library located on East 79th Street on the Upper East Side.  This wonderful slice of NYC history was founded 260 years ago, and has the distinction of being the oldest lending library in the City.

When it opened in 1754, the Library occupied space on the second floor of City Hall in Lower Manhattan.  The War for Independence in 1774 interrupted operations and some of the Library's collection had to be relocated to St Paul's Church for safe-keeping, but a lot of it was lost or destroyed.  By 1795 the Library had built up its collection to 10,000 titles and it relocated to bigger premises just off Wall Street.  Napoloeon visited the Library in 1837, and Charles Dickens followed suit in 1842, but by then the Library already counted some celebrities amongst its membership, including Herman Melville (author of Moby Dick) and Washington Irving (Legend of Sleepy Hollow).  A generous bequest from New York philanthropist Sarah Parker Goodhue in 1917 enabled the Library to purchase its current building on East 79th Street and its collection, and its membership database, continued to grow.

These days, the Library has about 3,000 members and a collection of over 300,000 volumes.  In return for paying their annual dues, Library members can access the gorgeous reading rooms, a children's library, a vast catalogue of electronic resources, and an impressive calendar of events throughout the year.

Most of the library is off-limits to non members (which is totally fair enough), but fortunately non-members like me are still allowed to visit the exhibition gallery.  And so it was that on my lunch break today I browsed the NY Society Library's latest exhibit , "From The Western Front and Beyond: The Writings of World War One". 

The small exhibition has been timed to commemorate the 100th annivesary of  what we know as "The Great War".  According to the little postcard I pinched from the from the front desk, the exhibition seeks to share some of "the writings and literature that came from the trenches and bloodstained battlefields".  The books and poetry anthologies on display were collected by Frank Bigelow, who was the New York Society Library's Head Librarian from 1895-1937.  Clearly Bigelow had his finger on the pulse at the time of the Great War, and he recognised the great social change the world was undergoing.  Bigelow immediately began padding out the Library's collection with books that had been written during and just after the war, and an assortment of these works is presented in the display cases around the exhibition.

I saw beautifully-maintained copies of Erich Maria Remarque's All Quiet on the Western Front and Gallipoli by John Masefield, as well as poetry anthologies by Wilfred Owen and Siegfried Sassoon (all of which I had studied at high school).  Other works were less familiar to me, including Paths of Glory by Humphrey Cobb (adapted into a film in 1957 starring Kirk Douglas), and Her Privates We by Australian author Frederic Manning, which is said to be the first book to have emerged from the First World War.  

I was really pleased I got the chance to see this collection of works about what author Vera Brittain called "the depleted generation".  I was equally impressed to learn that once the exhibition wraps up on 15 November, the books will be put back in circulation for the lucky Library members to borrow.

I'm so glad that we Met

Over the past few weeks at work I'm racked up some excess hours and my boss was kind enough to give me the day off today.  Rather than sleep in or do laundry, I got up early and took the subway to the Upper East Side to spend a few hours at The Metropolitan Museum of Art (aka The Met).

I'm rather embarrassed to admit that since I moved to New York, I haven't set foot in The Met at all.  I went there a few years ago when I visited New York, but I guess I always figured that as a resident I could go there anytime.  Today was that day.

I cut through Central Park to get to The Met today and of course I got lost (on a straight road...go figure), but when I finally arrived at the Museum - only 5 minutes after opening time - the lines were already out the door, down the front steps, and onto the footpath.  They moved quickly though, and I was pleased that I had bought my ticket online ahead of time - plus I paid extra for an audio guide, partly to get the inside scoop on the works I'd be looking at; but mostly to act as a buffer against anyone who might try to talk to me.

Courtesy of The Met

Upon arrival today I headed straight to the brand new Charles James: Beyond Fashion exhibition.  I don't really care too much for fashion, to be honest, but this exhibit only opened yesterday (May 8) and has been getting a lot of publicity.  It coincides with the refurbishment of The Met's Costume Institute, and the newly-named Anna Wintour Costume Center.  Don't get me wrong, the gowns on display are spectacular.  The lights in the exhibition are dimmed to protect the fabrics, but any idiot can tell that there is such skill that has gone into devising and sewing these works of art.  Each garment is spotlit and has a camera panning up, down, and around it, to give the viewer a 360-degree, close-up inspection of each item.  I whizzed through the exhibit quite quickly, just because there were so many people in there, and I couldn't get a proper look at each dress.  Maybe down the track the Met will invite small groups to come through before or after hours, and I'd really like to be part of something like that.  But squeezing in with the masses, and peeking between people's heads to get a fleeting glance of a dress, wasn't my idea of a good time today.

As a way to cheer myself up, I headed straight to my favourite exhibit in any Museum, which is anything to do with Ancient Egypt.  I have a good friend from Chicago who feels exactly the same way, and I always think of him when I'm browsing Ancient Egypt art and artefacts.  The Ancient Egypt gallery at The Met is amazing: it features full-sized temples; funerary trinkets; jewelry; sarcophagi, the whole bit.

I had tuned my audio guide to the Director's tour of the first floor, and his narration took me from the Temple of Dendur (which you can see in the photo above) straight into The American Wing - a leap forward of only several thousand years.  The timewarp was welcome though, and I had a lovely time browsing the galleries of silverware, fine bone china sets, Murano glass, and I even got to see one of the Tiffany glass work desks that I had read about in "Clara and Mr Tiffany".  

Through no fault of the Director's commentary, I lost my bearings for a while and ended up in the Medieval Gallery, surrounded by some beautiful Byzantine art, religious triptychs and sculpture.

And you know what?  The Met's a really funny place.  Just when you feel like you've adjusted to a period in history, you turn a corner and all of a sudden you're somewhere totally different - not just in a different era, but in a totally different country too.

Who wouldn't want to
sit by this fireplace?!

Take the Decorative Arts gallery (and particularly rooms 522-527).  When you walk through there, you feel like you've been transported to the grand salons of Paris, Vienna, and London.  It's like they've uprooted the room in its entirety and just dumped it in Manhattan.  I'm talking plush fabrics and damask curtains, ornate fireplaces, feather-filled cushions, and dappled sunlight on honey-colored floorboards.

In 2 hours I'd been through so many galleries, so many periods in history, and soaked up so much culture - and I still hadn't left the ground floor of the Museum!  It was definitely time for coffee.

I headed downstairs into the cafeteria and was pleasantly surprised to find it fully-stocked with delicious food.  Not just your garden-variety sandwiches and muffins either, but also sushi, pasta, a salad bar - the whole lot.

A croissant is HOW much?

I was going to eat something but I learned that a plain croissant was $3.55, and I just can't justifying paying crazy prices for things like that.  So I stifled my hunger for a bit longer, and enjoyed some coffee and water instead.

By the time I came back upstairs, The Met had become seriously crowded, but I was ready to tackle the delights of the 2nd floor.  I walked up the Grand Staircase of the Museum, cut through Asian Art, and headed straight into the Greek and Roman Art Gallery.  From there it was an easy transition into the Art of the Arab Lands Gallery, which includes amazing mosaics, textiles, and sculpture reflecting the very beginning of Islam and the gorgeous artworks of Turkey, Iran, Central Asia, and South Asia.  I loved this Gallery, and even gasped at the immensity of some of the works on display - so very impressive.

Next I found myself in the Musical Instruments gallery, marveling at how anyone could even get sound out of some of them!  All the weirdest shapes and construction materials. 

But what particularly impressed me was that my Met Director's commentary on the audio guide actually had video footage of a guy playing some of the ancient pianos on display.  Amazing!  Those audio guides really are great technology and really useful.

With the intensity of the exhibits and the ever-growing crowd, I was feeling the need to get some fresh air.  I sought out the elevator that would take me up to the rooftop, home to one of the best views in the City, but also one of the Museum's newest commissions (on display until November 2014).  I didn't think much of it to be honest, but then again I really have no idea about modern art.  I just appreciated the cool breeze, and the fact that not as many people were up on the roof to get in the way of my photographs (fuzzy though they were).

Rooftop serenity

Leaving behind the gorgeous rooftop view and the priceless art and sculpture of The Met, I wandered out through the gift shop and walked to Lexington Avenue for some lunch.  There are plenty of restaurants around The Met of course, but they can be crowded tourist traps and not really worth the trouble, when there are so many other options just a few blocks away.

Today's destination of choice was Lexington Candy Shop, on the corner of Lexington Avenue and East 83rd Street.  This place is like a time capsule - a real piece of vintage New York.

Lexington Candy Shop opened in 1925 and was last renovated in 1948 (when they installed the soda fountains that are still there - and they're still serving up Cokes and Diet Cokes with them today).  Have a look at this video and let the original owner's grandson tell you all about the store:

As you can see, The Lexington Candy Shop has linoleum tables, swivel stools at the counter, and green leather banquettes throughout.  I had one of their famous chocolate milkshakes, and I absolutely loved it.  If "Wrecking Ball" by Miley Cyrus hadn't been playing on the luncheonette's radio, I reckon I could have tricked myself into believing I'd really gone back in time.