Hurricane Sandy

As I write on Tuesday afternoon, the storm is mostly over, but NY is a total mess.   We spent the storm inside our apartment, looking out the windows.  From our perspective, it was an unusually windy day, with some light rain.   Which is why it was so strange to turn on the television, and see images of streets flooding, power outages, and general chaos 60 blocks to the south of us.   In the Upper West Side, taxis were still driving around at the height of the storm (until the mayor kicked them off the streets..)  We almost felt as if we were watching news from another city; a strange disconnect.   It was also very disconcerting to see images of areas we had just walked in a few days ago now under water.   (The Chelsea gallery area was flooded, too.)   Today, everything is very quiet, things are still pretty much closed, even though our neighborhood has power.  Still no public transportation, and it will be quite a while before the subways get going again.
Life in New York is never dull!

Subway steps, unused...

All the city parks are "closed", with yellow tape at all entrances.  Which for New Yorkers of all ages, is certain provocation to enter.  Many people were milling about, taking pictures of fallen limbs and trees.  Here are some trees that didn't fall down in Riverside Park:

We aren't going anywhere...

The subway this afternoon...

St. John the Divine

On a neighborhood walk the other day, I stumbled in to the Cathedral of St. John the Divine, by some measures the largest cathedral in the world, and perpetually unfinished. I have walked by in many times, but I haven't been inside in many years.  The interior space is truly impressive.  And entering into a gothic style cathedral from the streets of NY's upper west side is a totally incongruous experience.

Paris or New York?

The interior

The light through a stain glass window on a perpendicular wall:

Another church in the neighborhood.  Where am I?

A favorite entranceway in our neighborhood:

A Long Walk

Vera and I decided to take a long walk today, considering that, with the imminent arrival of Hurricane Sandy, we might not be going anywhere for a few days, with heavy rains predicted and the possible shutdown of the subway system.   (Vera wants to get some sandbags for our apartment!)
We started out just north of the World Trade Center, and walked through all the chic districts:  TrBeCa, the Meatpacking District, The West Village, and the southern part of Chelsea, with a stop at a Belgian Brasserie for lunch, sitting outside in the still warm weather.   New York is endlessly fascinating in its variety of architecture and people.  All of these reclaimed industrial areas have a broad mix of all kinds of buildings, from clusters very small 2 or 3 story 19th century houses to mammoth industrial warehouses, with bits of modern architecture mixed in, both high end and plain.  Chic restaurants and high end boutiques next to shipping warehouses still functioning.  The people are equally mixed.
We also walked a bit along the seawall (they don't call it that here), the Hudson River Park.

Pictures:

The seawall with the new WTC in the background (and some serious black clouds):

(Update after Hurricane Sandy: this area was all under water during the storm..)

Some old houses:

And here is a self portrait in front of a store selling very chic black pumpkins:

World Series: Mahler 8, Ives 4

Last night we went to hear the American Symphony Orchestra, conducted by Leon Botstein, in a program of Ives' 4th Symphony and Mahler's 8th.   Either one of the pieces is an incredibly complex undertaking for both orchestra and listeners that would normally be the centerpiece of any evening.   Sadly to say, Botstein and his orchestra would never be mistaken for the NY Philharmonic, and there were numerous flubs throughout the evening, including 2 false starts for the second movement of the Mahler.  That said, it was a treat to hear Ives 4th, which is rarely performed, and one of the landmark pieces of the 20th century.  I last heard it performed by the NY Phil. with Boulez conducting in the 1970's.   All of Ives' crazy juxtapositions and startling dissonances were there, and it is inspiring to hear his way of hearing music, which is very different.  We don't get expressionist climaxes of angst;  things clash and then they stop.   The Mahler had so many people on stage that parts of the chorus were on the second tier balcony, about 3 seats over from us.   What the orchestra and chorus lacked in cohesion they made up for in sheer quantity of sound.  It was a pleasure to hear Vancouver's Tyler Duncan as one of the singers, though they were not clearly audible as Botstein placed them in the back of the stage among the chorus.
It was the 50th anniversary of the orchestra's first concert, so all tickets were priced at their original price, as in 5 or 7 dollars.

Asian Art

I saw several exhibits at the Metropolitan Museum of Art that featured Chinese and Japanese art devoted to depictions of nature and gardens.   The Chinese art featured works starting from the 11th Century.  I am beginning to think that I need to re-educate myself in the history of art.   After a lifetime of viewing early European art centering around religion and portraits of important people, it is interesting to contemplate the very sophisticated traditions of Asian art.  The Chinese works I saw were painted and drawn on silk, beginning in the 11th century, and are in a remarkable state of preservation.   They come from a very different way of looking at the world.  I especially like the very long scroll paintings, images that you simply can't take in without moving your eyes.  Here are a few examples, dating from the 11th and 12th centuries  (click to make them bigger):

The Morgan Library

I saw the exhibition of 100 drawings at the Morgan Library.  They were from a Munich museum, and ranged from Renaissance to contemporary.   The older drawings were fascinating; especially the Renaissance ones.  One thing that struck me about these drawings was that both the technique and purpose of the drawings varied widely, even in the Renaissance.  Some were sketched in just a few details in a way that seemed very modern (perhaps as studies for larger works, while others were fully detailed works of art, using a wide variety of techniques for manipulating chalk, ink and paper.   In addition, the texture of the paper, in some cases 500 years old, lends  an interesting texture to the work.
One example, by Pontormo:

The Morgan Library, of course, contains lots of other things in its collection,  books and illuminated manuscripts, and the loot of J.P.'s acquisitions.  As my friend Santa said, perhaps this is reminder of what we are in for in the future if indeed we enter the Age of Romney and the one percent.

The Brandy Library

Last night we went to watch the Harold Lloyd film "Safety Last" at a film series in Tribeca that our friend Krin curates.   Afterwards, we went to the Brandy Library, which has no books, but perhaps the largest collection of distilled spirits around.   The drink menu is a very large and thick book....    I had a tasting flight of specially selected single malt scotches called "Smoked Out"   They were:   Bowmore 12 years, Longrow CV, Ardbeg Corryvreckan, Isle of Jura Prophecy, Bunnahabhain 1997,

and a Mystery Smokey Single Malt.  

(Hi Greg!)   

Many tequilas, as well.

The place looks like a library because all the bottles are out on shelves for everyone to see.  

  

I didn't try the single malt called "Sheep Dip"

Along with things like a plate of charcuterie, it was a decadent evening.  

Holy Pina!

We saw the new film, "Holy Motors" by Leos Carax and a dance piece by Pina Bausch over the weekend.  "Holy Motors" is outrageous and audacious, a bizarre dream-like sequence of events where you can never be sure what will happen next.  A moment of pathos can be followed by something completely ridiculous that undermines the whole thing.    When we saw Pina Bausch's last work, we were immediately struck by the resemblance to "Holy Motors".  Much of Bausch's earlier work featured dance within a sequence of improbable stage events, from dancers serving tea to the audience, to dancers acting like little children, or engaging in repetitive activities.  This last work, though, was disappointing.  All of the trademarks of her work were there, but there were far too many solo dances, only a few of which were really exciting.   Also, I find her choices of music to be much less interesting than in the past.  Earlier works included bits of classical music, old sentimental ballad recordings, and all kinds of things.   This last work has some nice Chilean music, but far too much generic electronic-ethno-dance type music (whatever that is..)

One shot from Holy Motors.

A Great Day in Harlem

Today we went to walk around Harlem with our friend Santa from Vancouver, who lived there many years ago.   Here she is in front of the building she used to live, the Lenox Terraces:

We wandered around some of the main sections and historical districts, and had lunch at a very chic African restaurant.  The architecture in Harlem is truly extraordinary, both in the residential brownstones and the numerous churches.  Even the Mormons have a church there..   (a modern and office building like church..)  It was a warm and sunny Saturday, and everyone was out and about.

Here are some pictures:
(If you click on the pictures, they get bigger..)
A row of brownstones:

A church, the Mother African Methodist Episcopal Zion Church:

The more humble 7th Day Adventist (one of many..):

A mansard roof, imported from Paris:

Some of the many beautiful rows of railings:

A nice window, with a reflection of Marcus Garvey Park, a rocky outcrop in the middle of Harlem:

A small baptist church, right on the Malcom X Boulevard.

More houses, with carvings and stain glass windows:

More Photography

This week I did another tour of the galleries on Chelsea.  I saw four very high quality shows of black and white photographs, by Robert Adams, the Bechers, Brett Weston, and Robert Frank, plus a show entitled 7 Americans, which recreated a show put on by the American photographer and gallery maestro Alfred Steiglitz in the early 20th century, which combined black and white photographs with abstract color watercolors and paintings.   One of the problematic aspects of photography is the fact that many photographs can be reproduced in excellent quality in books, and in the case of some photographers, the difference in quality between the real thing and the "reproduction" is negligible.   In the shows I saw, though, the quality of the most of the prints was superb, and they have a particular glow and sheen to them that comes from the photographic processes used to print and develop them.

A Walk in New York

My daily routine in New York has settled into a pattern of working in the morning and talking a walk in the afternoon, sometimes short and sometimes long.   Today I took a short walk around our neighborhood, where there is always something interesting to see.

I was lured out by some colorful writings that I saw on the street from our window.

I started by walking down West End Avenue, where I saw more  cryptic writings on the sidewalk.  

 I also saw this famous little Tudor style passageway:

 And a very mysterious shadow of a blue bird in a window.

Then over to Broadway, where I stopped at Barzini's grocery, where they always have 3 or 4 interesting cheeses out for free tastings. Then to Pain Quotidien, for some croissants.  Then a stop at Gotham Wines, where they had free tastings of single malt Scotches.  (I was encouraged to compare a 15 year old with a 12 year old Scotch.  I did.)    That is my kind of walk!

High Culture

On Tuesday night, we went to another NYC Ballet concert, this time only 50% Balanchine and 50% Stravinsky.  The first piece was "Rubies", set by Balanchine to Stravinsky's Capriccio for Piano and Orchestra.  The music was a pleasure to hear (why do these pieces by Stravinsky never get performed?).  The choreography was Balanchine in a more populist mode, sometimes seeming to channel his inner Rockette.  The other highlight was "Symphony in C", set to a symphony written by Georges Bizert when he was 17.  The music is some sort of Mozart "lite", as if Mozart had taken out all the complicated stuff his father disapproved of.   But it serves the choreography well, as it is clear and well structured.  The finale is truly astonishing, as Balanchine carefully brings in more and more dancers, until the end when there are more than 50 on stage, in a dazzling display of intricate patterns.   The rest of the program reminded me that I don't really like more traditional ballet very much, and that one can get tired of tutus and tendus.


On Wednesday night, we went to hear Turandot at the Met, as we were invited by my stepmother.  It was an over the top Zefferelli production, where no possible square inch of the stage remains undecorated.   It suits Turandot well, though, and I like eye candy as much as anyone else.   The opera itself was a mix of bombast and little comedy bits.  As it is set in some sort of ancient China, there are lots of Chinese style melodies, which to me grate against the conventional Puccini Italian opera style.   There are some striking moments in the choral and orchestral writing, and it was exceeding well played and sung.

On Friday night, I returned to Lincoln Center for the third time in four days (Vera had had enough) to hear Schoenberg's Piano Concerto, something that one rarely gets to hear performed in North America.  It was one of the best things I have heard in years!   I have never heard it live, and the Philharmonic performance was fantastic, with scrupulous attention to detail combined with an expressive intensity.  This piece, a true 12-tone work, has always seemed interesting in recordings, but somehow pedantic.  In this performance, I felt like I was hearing one of the great masterpieces of the 20th century.  Schoenberg's musical thought, as always, moves at lightning speed.   Interestingly, the performance was followed by a lithe and expressive rendering of Mozart's Linz symphony, a juxtaposition I dismissed beforehand, but which I found very illuminating.  Mozart's musical thought also moves rapidly, and some of his quirky rhythmic shifts reminded me of Schoenberg's rhythmic patterns  (which can sometimes be even more disconcerting to the listener than his pitches).

So that's it for Lincoln Center high culture for a while....

Photographs

On Sunday, my sister and her husband came up to New York.  They share an interest with me in photographs, so after brunch, we proceeded to view three different exhibitions.  (Vera demurred, not liking photography as art..)   What we saw was something different for me, which is that the exhibitions were all for upcoming auctions at Sotheby's, Christie's, etc.   What you see is 200-300 photographs that are basically museum quality.  It's like going to a museum, except the photographs are for sale, and the show only lasts for a week, until it makes way for the next auction.   There were some wonderful photographs, mostly by familiar photographers, and a few discoveries.  If you are there at the right time, it is a great way to see interesting art in a low key, non-museum situation.

Life in New York

Both Vera and I are happily adjusting to our new routines of life in the city, learning where to find our food, setting up our workspaces, and in general settling in.  I have enjoyed walking around the Upper West Side, and I am always energized by the sheer variety of humanity that one encounters on the streets here.  The neighborhood also has some beautiful architecture, and there will be photos eventually.
We had dinner with our friends Jane and George from Vancouver, and miss our other friends who are not visiting New York.    We keep in touch with Ada via Skype, and I tend feel guilty about  forgetting  about our dog Maggie, (except I always think of her after dinner, when she normally gets to lick the plates..)

Stravinsky!

Our cultural season has started in earnest, so much so that I have fallen behind in my blog.  Two ballets, a concert, and an "opera" in a week.
We heard the NY Philharmonic perform Stravinsky's "Rite of Spring" last week in an astonishingly clear and powerful performance conducted by Alan Gilbert.  I heard things I had never heard before, and the dynamic power of Stravinsky's brass writing has to be heard in person.  But the audacity and energy of Stravinsky's conception is what stood out.  The relentless movement, the crashing dissonances, and delicate sonorities are still startling, one hundred years after the piece was premiered.  A truly memorable experience.  Also on the program was Beethoven's 3rd Piano concerto, with an enigmatic slow movement, and a kind of mini-concerto by Kurtag, with the piano on the stage, and the rest of the instruments spread around the hall.  A pleasure to hear, and the audience actually behaved itself.

The New York City Ballet has been having a 2 week Stravinsky/Balanchine festival, and we have heard/seen two programs.   The music, to begin with, is wonderful; we have heard performances of Symphony in Three Movements, Violin Concerto, Orpheus, Agon, Apollo, Movements For Piano and Orchestra, and Duo Concertante, among others.   And the choreography is consistently inspiring, interacting with the music and changing how we perceive it.   Agon is the summit of the Stravinsky/Balanchine collaboration, and I feel very lucky to be living on a planet where I can experience this piece live.   I am only beginning to get a grasp of how Balanchine's choreography interacts with the music; they are deeply intertwined, in ways that are both straightforward and subtle.  It is true counterpoint of music and movement, and a delight to experience.

Less delightful was our experience with the Robert Wilson/Philip Glass opus, "Einstein on the Beach".  This notorious mishmash of downtown New York culture from the 1970's has its moments, but often bogs down in the endless repetition of the Philip Glass music.  I enjoy Robert Wilson's visual settings, and the slowed down time doesn't really bother me that much.  (The space ship finale is stunning, though it is either ripped off from or an homage to the scene in Lang's "Metropolis" where all the workers are rapidly adjusting the clock hand type levers of the Moloch machine.)

In the beginning of the opera, the Philip Glass music has some interest, with some slowly changing processes.   But eventually, he runs out of invention, and simply plays the same riff over and over again, with virtually no changes, for 20 minutes at a time.   The worst part, though, is when Glass abandons his austere minimalism for some sentimental glop at the end, including an ersatz Bach style organ interlude, and a very sentimental little tonal interlude which sounds like the work of a very young composition student who has fallen under the spell of something like Schubert's "Ave Maria".  I had always thought that Glass's sentimental music was a later career move, but it was there from the start.

The whole piece, which includes text and dance as well, lacks a true visionary coherence; it is more something that a bunch of people kind of put together without really knowing what they were after.  But it is famous...

Back in New York

We are back in New York, this time for an extended stretch.  It feels great to be here.  For the most part, we have spent our first week getting ourselves organized for work at home.  In fact, we are finally moving in; I have been unpacking boxes of random stuff that I packed up in haste when I was cleaning out my father's house.  I found a program of the first concert performance of my music (a piece for 2 pianos, 8 hands) in Canada in Toronto in 1973.  I also performed on steel drum under the baton of Princess Yasmin Aga Khan, who was conducting her own music.

Our Vancouver friends will be amused to know that we went to a farmer's market in our neighborhood.
Culture starts in earnest next week with the New York City Ballet and Einstein on the Beach.
A New York story:  As Vera and I were casing the various food stores in our neighborhood to recalibrate our daily food habits, I saw some nice looking bakalava.  I watched as the clerk weighed my pieces on the scale, and then turned to find a container to put them in. While she was turned, a man came up next to me, reached over the counter to the scale where my baklava was, and grabbed a piece of it.   I protested, so he put it back, which made me protest even more.  He said he thought it was one of those plates where people get to try free samples.     He got to eat the piece he had touched, I got a replacement piece, and I learned that in New York, you always have to watch your baklava.  (or, if you are really hungry, how to get free baklava...)

Memories...

As I mentioned in the beginning of this trip blog, I went to all these cities on a family trip in 1967.   What I have retained in my memory from that trip is a series of images and sensations, some precise and some vague.  From Russia, I remember the taste of the soda (there was no cola of any kind in Russia at the time), and the orange paint in the barracks-like building of our hotel.   (At that time, you stayed where the Russian tourist bureau told you to stay.) And there was always a lady at the end of the corridor, who kept watch on things. From Copenhagen, I remember narrow streets and brick buildings, and the pornography that was displayed openly (i.e. explicit images on the covers) on every newsstand and counter.   (OK, I was 16...)   I have since discovered that I was there in June 1967, exactly the moment when Denmark became the first country to legalize pornography.  In Sweden, we were there just before another momentous change, when they switched from driving on the left to driving on the right.  I remember all the signs.    From  Finland, I remember the pleasure my brother and I had seeing the drunken bums on the waterfront in what was otherwise a very clean and orderly city.  There are other memories...

On Our Way Home

So we are at the airport, and our flight is delayed.   Because we fly so much on Air Canada, they let us in to these fancy lounges with free food and drink.   In Canada, it is pretty minimal, but here you have a very nice selection of wines and even scotches, so that you can help yourself to as much Laphroaig as you wish.  Too bad it is the morning with 16 hours of travel ahead of us.  There is also a fire in a fireplace...

Among the many things that are striking in this part of the world is the number of baby strollers, and in particular how common it is to see men walking down the street pushing strollers.  Parents receive a very long parental leave, and babies and children are welcome and taken everywhere.   Comparing that to the US, which is one of 2 or 3 countries in the world that don't require employers to grant maternity or paternity leave.  (I think Liberia and Sierra Leone are 2 of the others..)

Communes

Today we walked around Copenhagen, and saw a "newer" area that was more like French cities of the 19th Century.  We made the obligatory stop to see the mermaid statue, and then took a boat to an area called Christianhaven, to see a "free state" called Christiania.  This was founded in 1971, when a group of squatters occupied an abandoned military area, and proclaimed a free state, independent of all rules of the Danish government and contemporary society.  What followed was a predictable sequence of drug problems, random violence, biker gangs, protests, attempts by the state to reclaim the territory, etc.   What is amazing is that it is still going, and a little island of hippiedom in the middle of Copenhagen.   You can buy pot and various arts and crafts, but you can't take pictures.  How can you have a free state and not be allowed to take pictures?   I actually saw someone be stopped and prevented from taking a picture.
Mostly it is pretty decrepit...
Anyway, here is a picture from the web...

We also saw a very over the top 17th century organ in a church.   Note the elephants...This is for Lynn..