La donna e mobile

"It's no good unless it breaks your heart", as Anthony Minghella would say.

The world's most famous La donna e mobile and the timeless hits Caro nome and Questa o quella were score features in Verdi's tragic tale Rigoletto. Rich in melody and filled with great arias, this is one of my favorite operas having seen it maybe three times.

It may have pleased the veteran opera lovers that the set and stage production were done in the tradition of classical opera. At the pre-show quick lunch we had at Avery Fisher Hall, I engaged in a chat with an elegant lady in her 80's, who takes the train from the suburbs of New Jersey to attend the opera.

Here I am complaining about my short ride from Queens, and here's this lady impeccably dressed in a light outfit for this winter weather, traveling a few good miles on a commuter train from her suburban home. She was waiting for her niece who she hopes will love Rigoletto as much as she does. Introduced to her at age 13 by her parents, she has been an avid goer since. We talked about how unfortunate it is that the Amato Opera in the Bowery is closing for its final season. She was visibly excited as she spoke about how she frequented The Hippodrome in her younger days, adding that I may not have been around at the time yet. We shook hands, parted ways, she said she hopes to see me at Lucia di Lammermoor performance and I said to myself, "When I grow up I want to be like her".

Meeting people from all walks of life is part of the fun in going to this performances. All it took was a gentle pat on my arm when she asked me to watch her plate while she walked to the counter to freshen her cup with hot coffee. It took off from there and I can't tell you how priceless that conversation was. These things do matter.

This being her first exposure to the opera I was also joined by my niece Nelsie. Susan, a former co-worker met us at the lobby of the Met. She took the place of Judy who's out there in the slopes of Colorado skiing.

With its roster of the best cast, the chorus playing a big role, the Met once again did a sensational production. It would please Minghella that this was not a stunning but a heartbreaking performance.

East meets West

The Guggenheim Museum designed by Frank Lloyd Wright stands majestically on 5th Avenue and 88th.

The rotundas of the central spiral serve not just an access to the galleries but also as exhibition halls, in this case of "The Third Mind: American Artists Contemplating Asia, 1860-1989".

It brought together an eclectic collection of works by artists such as James Whistler, Jackson Pollock, Yoko Ono, Isamu Noguchi and others. I came here not knowing the scope of the exhibition and I was surprised - especially on the Asian influence that can be traced to calligraphy and abstract ink blots on the technique of Jackson Pollock.

The set of prints by Mary Cassatt that drew on the styles of Japanese compositions clearly is another example of this Eastern influence as well. 250 works were on exhibit but it was easy to view. There was plenty of room to roam about, the galleries at the Guggenheim do not leave the viewer with a feeling of being boxed-in.

My preferred way of exploring the Guggenheim, it's always an experience to walk down the central spiral looking down on the museum's lobby.

What I could not get myself to appreciate is Paul Kos' Sound of Ice Melting. On display at the lobby are two twenty-five-pound blocks of ice, eight boom microphone stands, eight microphones, mixer, amplifier, two large speakers and cables. The viewer is invited to "listen to the sound of melting ice", which I thought was bizarre. I stood there like a fool waiting for it to happen but didn't hear a drop. Far from being an artist to understand the concept, I guess I was too literal. And that's why I'm not into contemporary art.

The other exhibit is that of Ann Hamilton entitled "Human carriage". It is a contraption composed of book weights made from cut-up books that ascend and descend along the rotunda spiral by a pulley system, and a pair of Tibetan cymbals that rush down the balustrade. The chimes invite the museum goers to look up and watch the action, leaving them with a variety of interpretations as to the theme it was trying to convey.

I would prefer to deal with some form of art that's not so blurry. Some of it was much too abstract, I spent more time at the Thannhauser Gallery where the Whistler, Georgia O'Keefe and Picasso collection was more my style.

As I exit, I went down to the Sackler Annex where a travelogue of Isamu Noguchi was on display. It captured his fellowship visits to India, Indonesia, Japan, Nepal and elsewhere. This I enjoyed as well.

Give me something more concrete, abstract patterns can be frustrating.

Cafe Mozart

Recently I started following city blogger Jeremiah Moss's Vanishing New York and discovered that he really has a lot to blog about and for very good reasons.

Not too far from my neighborhood, Shea Stadium is being demolished to be replaced by the new one. To my dismay and to the rest of the faithful New York Mets fans and great lovers of landmarks (or such), the new name is Citi Field, in keeping with part of the deal made with the financiers which is Citigroup, Inc.. Or so I heard. Why we need a larger capacity stadium I understand but changing the name is a disgrace.

Many more venues are either leaving town or are being replaced by upscale ones. Neighborhood gentrification is on the rise and at a pace as fast as they can build high-rise, high-priced condominiums.

In August my friends and I tried to meet at Cafe Mozart on the Upper West Side for brunch , but when we got there it was CLOSED. There was no sign at the door except that it's "closed". It looks like it's been gutted or was quickly shut down. I brushed off the thoughts that this will be permanent. Maybe they will be renovating the place. To my surprise, as I was getting ready to make reservations for this coming Saturday's brunch before the opera, I got the same message that their number has been disconnected with no further info. Their website obliterated too!

Cafe Mozart was one of the finest reasonably-priced European style restaurants in the city with the closest proximity to the Lincoln Center . It seems like a place out of old New York or Vienna charming with its antique decor and furniture. The display case filled with pastries and cakes of all sorts was deliciously inviting.

Coffee and dessert was what I originally knew it was famous for. That was when our friend Mila introduced us to this place one evening for a taste of its scrumptious plate of melted Camembert and fruits. I also heard they served the best chicken schnitzel in town. Of late we've gone there for their brunch my favorite of which was the eggs Benedict. Some days we also enjoy the music from a piano player playing either jazz or some classical arrangements.

The food spectacular and the place with its relaxed atmosphere was the closest thing to a Viennese cafe. What a shame that it closed down. You'll be surprised, there are only a few good places to eat around the Lincoln Center area and this was one of the best.

I'm truly saddened by this. My friend Jerry from California will be very disappointed too. Does anyone know what happened and when they closed? And if Cafe Mozart will reopen?

The Lunar Year of the Ox

"The ox carried the rat, who pushed the cat, who nearly drowned and lost the race in the legend behind the Chinese Zodiac, an ancient system steeped in lore that puzzles and enthralls".

Ringing in the Year of the Ox. The Chinese sure know how to throw a party, a big one at that. Today is the second day of the 15-day Chinese New Year festival.

Our President was born on the Year of the Ox. Leadership qualities, dependability, strength and responsibilty are among the traits mentioned in his sign. He is a metal Ox that symbolizes prosperity through hard work. That's a good thing considering what he's got on his plate.

On the second day of the celebration, the Chinese pray to their ancestors as well as to all the gods. They are extra kind to dogs and feed them well as it is believed that the second day is the birthday of all dogs. In China the animal of your birth year defines and influences you for the rest of your life, in my case it's the dog! Chinese New Year zodiac Dog will never let you down. Shut up about it already, but it's true, I promise!

According to my horoscope, "people born in this Chinese zodiac sign possess the best traits of human nature. (Yeah right!) They have a deep sense of loyalty, are honest, and inspire other people's confidence because they know how to keep secrets. They care little for wealth; yet somehow always seem to have money. They can be cold emotionally and sometimes distant at parties. Chinese zodiac sign Dog people make good leaders. They would make an excellent businessman, activist, teacher, or secret agent".

Doggone! Where was I when all the good traits fell from the canine heaven? I sure did not get my better share of them, except maybe the money part , meaning I don't care much for wealth. And the teacher part, not that I was ever good at being one! I enjoyed that four-year stint teaching. Blabbermouth, that I'm not and my friends can attest to that.

How and why the 12 animals fall in their order in the ancient Chinese calendar system sounds fascinating. There are several colorful stories about the origin. Here's some of them:

"One story has Buddha inviting all the animals in the kingdom to a meeting. In another, it's the Jade Emperor holding a great banquet. Some animals outwit others to get there first, with their places in the zodiac assigned according to when they arrived.

A third legend is more like "The Amazing Race," in a competition that includes a river crossing followed by a gathering at the emperor's palace. The kindly ox agrees to carry the scheming rat and the cat across the water on his back, but the rat betrays his friend the cat by pushing him into a swift current and hops off the ox to claim the top spot".

Always, the cat and the rat were once best friends but wind up mortal enemies.

Anyone cares for ox tail soup? Not my Chinese friends Philip who's an ABC ( American-born Chinese) and Rose who's a mutt! Food is great but she even stays away from Chinatown during these days! Sorry Rose if I'm picking on you, as usual.


Happy New Year! What's your sign?

Orfeo ed Euridice

Two of the artwork at the lobby of the Metropolitan Opera did not go unnoticed as we walked in.

Canadian artist David Altmejd's solo exhibition at the Arnold and Marie Schwartz Gallery is connected to the premiere of John Adam's Doctor Atomic. This all-glass mirror contemporary sculpture many parts of which are cracked or broken symbolizes the effect of the first atomic bomb.

The Kneeling Woman : Monument to Debussy by the French sculptor Aristide Maillol grace the grand staircase of the Metropolitan Opera. It was originally created for a monument at Claude Debussy's birthplace, Saint-Germain-en-Laye.

Today's program was Gluck's Orfeo ed Euridice conducted by the renowned James Levine. Written for an alto castrato, the role of Orfeo was played by mezzo-soprano Stephanie Blythe. The way she was made-up she sure looked like Rosie O'Donnell from a distance. The dancers appear as characters throughout the opera their costumes were contemporary and the choreography a bit modern. Hopping and skipping at the conclusion of the opera, one man's comment was, "There goes your Greek myth of Orpheus. I'll take Jerome Robbins anytime".

I take that as a thumbs down for the dance component.

The chorus was pure delight, it reminds me of Nabucco - Chorus of the Hebrew Slaves. The 100-member chorus played a major role and were fitted with Isaac Mizrahi's costumes representing historical personalities from Moses to Callas to Gandhi to Jimi Hendrix. It was easy to miss the beautiful creations, unless you paid for premium seats, since the choir members were standing on three-tier levels on stage. Thank goodness for opera glasses. The action of the chorus is played by the dancers and the dance music was plenty.

The famous Act III aria Che faro (sung here by Marilyn Horne) and Act II aria Che puro ciel (sung here by Kathleen Ferrier) were probably the highest point of this production of Orfeo.

To me it was more of a dance drama, something different and I'm not strictly a rigid follower of and limited to the classical style of the opera productions. The music superb and the singing heartrending, but the stage design and the choreography is the sort of thing one either warms up to or dislike altogether.

I also found it odd that Amor, the god of love was dressed in a pink golf shirt and a pair of khaki pants with milk-white little wings on his back. It didn't seem to fit.

Nothing is set in stone, not even in the musical productions that adapt with the mood of the times. For those who have a penchant for tradition this Met staging was a departure from the convention, but it wouldn't be fair to say that the opera dies with Gelb's and Levine's concept of change. Che faro will play in my head over and over again regardless.

Culture shock - Nordic and Tokyo styles

After buying a skinny wedge of gruyere cheese at the Grand Central Market (that's all I could afford at this place) and having lunch of piping hot pizza with Ped, I dragged Rose to walk with me four blocks south of the Terminal to the Scandinavia House, The Nordic Center in America.

I remember reading a write-up on the Victor Borge Centennial exhibition but the starting date did not register in my head. It pays to check the web or at least call which obviously I failed to do - my mother who's a centenarian would do better than that. I know my friend the Ayatollah Mary (MCW) would laugh and have something to say about this. Go ahead.

To my disappointment (sigh) none of the galleries at the Scandinavia House were open at this time. The place is gearing up for the Victor Borge exhibition which does not open until January 24th. After picking up a couple of flyers from the information desk, we ended up checking out their shop.

The shelves were filled with fine luxurious handmade sweaters, hats, gloves, winter gear and clothing in an assortment of design and fashion Nordic style. Quite expensive I thought, since I just bought me a woolen hat from Windhorse for $20.00 at the Terminal and the same one here costs $40.00. What a rip-off! Rose and I didn’t give in to our desire to shop. Boohoo!

What to do now? I needed to get a few items from Staples and the nearest one I know is around my old work neighborhood on 41st & 6th Avenue, so we trekked towards that area in the 20-degree weather. I was nicely bundled up so I didn’t mind but Rose must be tired. On the way, she spotted a train station that will get her home, so she made a quick run for it and said goodbye to me. Oh well, she has to be home by 4:00 pm for her Oprah Show! That’s Rose for you. Thanks for the company, Rose!

Anyway, I cut across Bryant Park and watched the skaters at The Pond while I also took some pictures. What else? They did an excellent job of transforming the park into a skating rink for the winter, but a notice was posted that says it will close down next week in preparation for Fashion Week. That’s one show the visiting fashionista shouldn’t miss. American designers produce the fashion shows to show off their spring collection and Bryant Park will be converted into a fashion arena with tents.

Just before going in to Staples, I passed by a store which wasn’t in the area a few months ago. It is the Kinokuniya Bookstore. The store is impressively stocked with tons of books, magazines, DVDs, crafts, paper, a good selection of anime and manga (Japanese comics), music, etc.

Leave it to the Japanese - everything is so neatly and elegantly displayed on the shelves and the display windows. Some of the books were arranged as if they are museum pieces not to be touched just to be admired. I must admit the book jacket designs are refined and incomparable.

What shocked me was the sign conspicuously posted which says : No Photography Allowed Inside the Store. Really? Are they serious? I never saw such thing in any of the stores around here before. It doesn’t bother me, who says I'm going to take pictures anyway? I’m no Japanophile, and my admiration for Kurosawa and Hiroshige’s woodwork doesn’t make me one. Phew!

If you’ve been to any of the Mitsuwa Marketplace stores, you’ll know what I’m talking about. You’ll get a taste of Japan and Mitsuwa is not just your ordinary supermarket, it offers a wide selection of organic produce and a wide variety of Japanese food products. The pastries are delightfully decorated, but be prepared to pay a hefty price for them. That goes for the rest of the merchandise from juices to teas, frozen foods and beers. You must carry gold bullion in your purse if you plan to shop here. Pricey!! No thanks, I'll stick to Trader Joe's.

The best part of my daytrip I'd say is the thought that I got my hat at a bargain price. Thanks for lunch, Ped and did you know that it was my first time to drink Dr. Pepper? It wasn't so bad.

Despite all the letdown, I still plan to see the Victor Borge exhibition, I love that guy, he was so talented and humorous. Remember his Phonetic Punctuation routine? But will I ever shop at Kinokuniya? Most probably not! Barnes & Noble's good enough for me. Washout! No pictures.

Bench Warmers

Some heartwarming dedications on park benches

Come sit on me.

Spider-man

'love NYC

Gertrude Stein

Welcome, Mr. President

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

From Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
by Robert Frost

Winter Splendor of Central Park

Endlessly fascinating, that's Central Park in the winter!

Some favorite shots after yesterday's snow.

5th Avenue & 70th Street

Sleigh ride!

Life in the fast lane

Walk, pedal or run

Light and mist

Come sit for a while

Gapstow Bridge and the Lake

Grandma Moses' view

Carriage Ride

Andrea Riccio: Renaissance Master of Bronze

The Frick Collection

Today is the last day of the exhibition dedicated to Andrea Riccio at The Frick Collection. Riccio was one of the most creative sculptors of the Italian Renaissance. It is a snowy Sunday and also a pay-as-you-wish day so I took advantage of that.

On view were 31 pieces of sculpture both classical and religious subjects mostly figurative statuettes and others are functional objects. From a sampling of the bronze masterpieces, what appealed to me most were Shouting Horseman and Boy with a Goose with it's exquisitely chiseled goose feathers and the boy's curly hair. Sword Pommel and Guard with the very fine details of Medusa's head is a breathtaking piece. The ithyphallic 21-inch male figure Drinking Satyr deserves the superlatives.

The small-scale statuettes are fancifully crafted in bronze, one must pay close attention to the embellished helmets, the folds in the muscles of the small bodies, the curls, the scales on the fish and the snakes, all in magnificent details. The smallest piece I believe is the Putto (figure of a pudgy little naked baby, almost always male) which is about 2 to 3 inches in height. Sculpture as I've never experienced viewing before. Just awesome!

The Garden at the Frick Mansion

The Frick Collection is housed in the former residence of Henry Clay Frick. Preserved in the ambience of Mr. Frick's private house, the collection is a rich mix of the finest paintings and other works of art by the greatest European artists.

The inner Garden Court (not pictured) with it's grand fountain and garden provides a peaceful setting for the elegant mansion and a place for the weary art lovers to take a break. The mansion itself covering almost an entire city block is a true work of art. Come visit.

A grand exhibition on a small scale but in a grand setting.

Wing and a prayer

It could've been much worse, but thanks to the "Tiger Woods of pilots", Charles "Sully" Sullenberger III , all 155 passengers of US AIR 1549 that he remarkably landed onto the frigid waters of the Hudson River, were safely rescued.

Chesley "Sully" Sullenberger III

He had the calmness that translated into the passengers' equally orderly exit and rescue. "Brace for impact" and a split-second decision to glide on the icy Hudson River on a blustery lower teens temperatures. He deserves a medal for a true hero. He got the job done and masterfully.

Earlier this morning I walked the snow-covered grounds and stole some shots of these small birds which were "hanging in there" for a few weeks more until the warm weather sets in. It was 11 degrees and snow was still falling. These birds weren't as large as the geese that were responsible for downing the aircraft later in the day but imagine what such an encounter between man and nature can lead to.

Go, Sully go and thanks to the efforts of the able-bodied New Yorkers: the dock workers, commuter ferries, a well-organized disaster plan and the response team and all the neighboring hospitals and workers that helped. A good outcome - as always New Yorkers were there to lend a helping hand.

"It's not the way people normally arrive (*or leave) in New York City," said Mayor Bloomberg, "but as long as they all got out safely, everything else is secondary".

The Rashomon Effect

After seeing Seven Samurai, I became an unwavering fan of the great Japanese film director Akira Kurosawa. His were some of the best works in films that I’ve ever seen, and to date I’m counting ten that I’ve watched. It is no wonder that he is regarded with such respect in the industry. His use of light, oblique camera perspective, contrast and symbolism make his films most desirable to watch especially in dramatic black and white. He also used music in the most nontraditional way. Top that off with the acting of the brilliant actor Toshiro Mifune and you have a work of art.

Kurosawa explores the Japanese themes of honor and discipline. Known for his sword-swinging epics, such as Seven Samurai, the experience that one derives from his films is not one of violence. There is action and fighting but done in an artistic rendering sometimes coupled with clownish entertainment. If one is given just one film to see from his long list, one would most likely to pick his masterpiece and 1954 classic Rashomon.

The story is simple but the structure is not. It takes place in 12th century Japan. A rape, murder and the messy truth narrated through the differing accounts of four witnesses, the rapist, the samurai, the woodcutter and the noblewoman. This recount of a trial testimony was a series of dramatic flashbacks and each story is entirely different from the previous account.

The movie gave psychology the word 'Rashomon Effect'. Wikipedia describes 'Rashomon Effect' as...
"The Rashomon effect is the effect of the subjectivity of perception on recollection, by which observers of an event are able to produce substantially different but equally plausible accounts of it".

Rashomon Effect came to mind when I couldn't get that story straight. Did I see a blue car or was it a gray one? How many times have we passed by that same lobby at our office and took notice of what painting was on the wall or how large or small the painting was? One day, while waiting for the elevator, we suddenly do not recall that same painting occupying that entire space on the wall. It's a different perspective this time. Someone else will perceive this in a different frame depending on their expectation and training. Similarly, everyone has a different take on the same person or same event.

The truth is we humans see things differently; the same object can produce different pictures in our heads. The fuzzy nature of our memory over time makes us have these conflicting recollections about a lot of our stories in life. We tend to forget what we want to forget and sharpen the memories we want to keep or treasure and I have many of those.

"Rashomon" is now a by-word for any situation wherein the truth of an event becomes difficult to verify, especially when there is more than one eyewitness. It is not that we lied when we told the story. It is not that we exaggerated the truth. The intention is not to embellish but that it was our perception at the time. My own experiences in life explain how "perspective distorts reality" and life's ups and downs somehow illustrate the "subjectivity of perception on recollection".

It is clear to me now what Kurosawa was trying to convey.
The film says we are what we want to be, not who we really are.

Lights, camera, glide

The Starburst Chandeliers at the Metropolitan Opera - glittery, stunning and elegant. The wood and metal rods are called "sputniks" and 50,000 pieces of Swarovski crystals ride on the rods. The original chandeliers were a gift from the Austrian government in 1966. In July 2008, the dismantled chandeliers, packed into 15 crates and loaded onto three planes, traveled to Vienna for cleaning and restoration. The refurbished Starbursts were re-installed in September for the Met's 125th anniversary season. Crystal clear!

Vivian Beaumont Theatre panel of colorful poster boards of the great movies and plays. The construction underway that is part of the restoration project at the Lincoln Center for the Performing Arts is concealed behind this wall of life-sized lively posters. An ingenious solution!

The Wollman Skating Rink in Central Park. I'm not a photographer but isn't this picturesque? On a cold winter day the skyscrapers of midtown Manhattan provide a spectacular backdrop for the skaters gliding across the silvery ice. Glide, jump and spin! Woohoo!!

Amateur but not so bad, huh?

I feel the earth move

Christy & Megan

Yvonne, the road warrior, and Maria, the mystery, are basking in the California sun while I’m here freezing trying to put out some fires, such as a costly water main break. Long story and it's for another entry. These ladies were off to San Bernardino to consult with the team to try and resurrect a project long gone forsaken, good ol’ facility copy. Here’s hoping that those magic, miracles, and prayers maybe could aid in the rescue. Lots of luck with that.

And then the earth rumbled! An omen.

Flashback:
Eons ago there was this team. Yvonne and Maria as the pillars of the NYC office and me as the mainstay poor gofer. On many occasions, a frantic call is placed to our good buddy Mary in San Bernardino HQ about some request not exactly outside of the realm of possibility but to which she’d have a smart-aleck response of something like:
“People in hell want ice water too!”
You see, humor is an art form with Mary and you can’t get mad at her if you need a program enhancement badly or some other silly thing the client wants yesterday. Somehow she’ll mobilize the Boys, the ones who share the office they call The Dark Side, thanks to Michael's fascination with the Force.

There’s Chet who’ll start writing codes while driving the 50-mile distance from his mountain house. Why not just telecommute you ask? Not a good idea. In his workshop is another harpsichord waiting to be built and those kids queued outside his door for music lessons? Too tempting.

Steve, the peer to peer guru and the God who can part waters, if you have any luck finding him, can whip up something in a few hours.

Tom the gorgeous smart fellow who any married woman would die to have an affair with, can give you instructions in detail – go ahead and test now and see if this or that patch works.

There is one major hurdle. 3000 miles away from NY – 3 hours time difference which leaves us with barely five decent hours for testing and that’s not taking into account the lunch break for Mary – that "quick" trip to Costco to get that package of Goldfish crackers for the girls. Oh and where’s Steve? Squeezing in an 18-hole while tweaking that fix for the issue at hand. New York? Let them wait! God have mercy.

Finally when everyone's ready to test this code which according to Mary is “put together with bubble gum and barbed wire”, it is time for the NY office and the client site to close shop! Rats! Mary DOES care, but while she’s impervious to scud missiles being fired from a site we will call by its corrupted name - “Hellvue”, I'm not. It's my neck. Don't forget I'm on the frontline here!

ChaCha who was a dear to work with and calls me Tantrum T or hunter-gatherer! She tied down Steve to his chair while in NY. So we can get some work done, you filthy-minded brats!

Then there’s Cynthia, quiet as a mouse until you hear her jokes and her tricks with her palms. She loads releases, codes and I don't know what else and tells us at what times we should not to do certain things, which we ignore anyway. How does she do all that with the demanding NY clients? She's got Arnold who is cool as a cucumber.

Of course Nurse Stacey who gave me crash courses on clinicals. Moi? Design desktop for physicians? And you're giving me how many days? Get out of my cubicle, Lorna!

Don’t forget, my “Son”, Troy the Hooker, who can crunch reports like nobody else can. Just throw him a few slices of NY pizza and lots of caffeine. And lock him in a room away from the pontificating Val.

Honestly I don’t know what role Arnold played in this whole circus, but I like him anyway.

Those where the good old days.

Fast forward:
Yvonne and Maria at dinner with the old gang, plus Megan and Christy, Mary’s girls. This I missed, when Mary goes down the list of who’s where and what and who’s still alive. You see, she had the luxury of quitting work to stay home with the girls, husband Terry does all the money raking! Lots of it I suspect!

I hear Arnold is funny as can be. What about those chickens? I heard you brought out my chicken stories.
As a child, Maria used to blow on their butts for kicks.
Country girl that I was, I used to “dress” them. No Arnold, not in spiked heels and mini skirts, but dress as in plucking their feathers, and so forth, as in preparing to cook them for dinner! Now you know why ChaCha gave me such a barbaric nickname.

On the other hand, Yvonne eats nothing but chicken and fries. I swear she won’t try anything else if you pay her. How she survived a month in Mumbai on assignment God only knows.

Megan and Christy have grown even prettier. I heard of Megan’s 6th grade science project of extracting DNA from fruits and analyzing that using electrophoresis. Excuse me! Son of a gun, that sounds like my undergrad thesis! I’m impressed. But what happened to the tutu I made for you? I thought it was ballet you're going to pursue.

Time for goodbyes and hellos to the latecomers and here it comes. RUMBLE!
The earth shook, 5.0 on the Richter scale and San Bernardino is the epicenter. Arnold said he’ll never hug Mary again after that. Excitement of seismic proportions, that must be it. Meeting with old friends can cause quakes. That must've scared the pants out of Yvonne as it was her first earthquake.

Mary, I didn’t know you still have those powers. You can still make the earth move, girlfriend. No Mary, I didn't pack up for the Old Age Sanctuary yet, so you can cut out that "Old" thing joke. And hey, isn't blogging a better brain workout than stuffing envelopes doing volunteer work? Yeah, that's what they wanted me to do, but I said no way, I'll do the annual 5K walk instead.

I promise to see you all again one of these days; if not, you come visit me while I'm still home and not at The Home. Stay in touch folks and thanks for the pictures.

PS:

Shame, shame, shame. How can I forget our good friend Jerry, the resident Lab specialist, the living bible for all Lab installs. He knows and loves New York like no full-blooded New Yorker does. He's explored all the nooks and crannies of the City and takes the train to Prospect Park fearlessly. He has accepted a job with another company since and we sure miss him too.

Patience & Fortitude - a hodgepodge

And how long have I been riding the subways? Yesterday, I discovered that taking the R to Times Square then hopping on the S shuttle just across the same platform is the easiest way to get to Grand Central Station. Duh!

I love Grand Central – it’s a grand Beaux-Arts station where a constant stream of commuters and tourists taking pictures, crisscross like ants without bumping into each other. It’s so energizing just watching them. The market at GC – I drool over the manchegos and aged goudas, sweets and a selection of good eats. The one of a kind gift stalls are an added touch to the busy station. Cold feet? Slippers from Tibet or Nepal are perfect.

The musicians are almost a fixture in the underground and I find them gracious enough to allow me to snap their pictures. This time a sax player got my full attention. He was really good. It sure takes the monotony out of the commute. But of course I tossed a buck in the kitty!

One wonders if these daily riders on the rush even pay attention. Speaking of which, did you hear about Joshua Bell not being recognized at a busy Washington, DC train station when he experimented on playing incognito underground? He took home a measly few dollars and only one person during the entire day was able to identify him. I wonder how he felt about that. Perhaps if that was in NYC there would've been a crowd surrounding him. Or maybe not. New Yorkers are preconditioned not to stare at celebrities and allow them their space. An unspoken rule, I guess.

After soaking in the arts at the Morgan Library, I scooted to the NYPL a few blocks away and soaked in the rain on the way. Aha! I never noticed this before! The two-block stretch on 41st Street was nicknamed The Library Way, lined with 96 bronze sidewalk plaques featuring quotations from literature and poetry, ends facing the majestic New York Public Library. Cool. I read and photographed most of them.

There they were, the mascot guarding the entrance to the library, the marble Lions namely Patience on the south side and Fortitude on the north. I’ve seen these sculptures adorned with wreaths at Christmas and other times, décor of sorts that may fit the theme of a holiday parade that passes by.

There is so much to see but I just briefly went thru a current exhibit at the Stokes Gallery. A multimedia collection of mainly photographs by the artist Stephen Dupont and entitled The Perils of Freedom. It documents the effects of the rampant drug trafficking in Afghanistan. The artist’s first solo show in the US, his photographs tell the sad story.

That's my story, in a single day and one loop. My kind of town. If you have the patience, I'll take you on a tour. And the fortitude to go thru the extremely painful exercise of reading this hotchpotch of a blog? Nah... you've got that! Or do you?

Thanks.

In the bind

What else is new? The weathermen goofed again. Not a speck of snow on the ground so I might as well take advantage of this heat wave of 35 degree F, never mind that it's raining.

Destination: The Morgan Library and Museum

The museum has a vast collection of medieval and renaissance illuminated manuscripts, drawings and prints by the great masters, a copy of the Gutenberg bible, music and original manuscripts by Mozart and Beethoven and printed books and bindings. All these housed in a magnificent brownstone which in recent years has expanded to three more pavilions to increase exhibition space. The steel-and-glass pavilions were designed by the brilliant Renzo Piano. Probably smaller in scale than the Metropolitan Museum of Art, it has a diverse collection covering more than ten centuries of historically and artistically significant work. The great financier Pierpont Morgan started this collection in 1890 and in 1924, J.P. Morgan, Jr. transformed the library into a public institution in memory of his father.

Today's exhibition which runs thru March 29th is entitled: Protecting the Word: Bookbindings of the Morgan. It is a rich sampling of the artwork demonstrating the skill and artistry of bookbinding at its finest. Fifty of the most important pieces out of its over 1,000 volumes are displayed, the earliest is a Flemish gilt silver bound religious book circa 1060.

This was one of the most informative visits I've had to a library and museum. All types of binding from the different regions of the globe over the course of 14 centuries were represented. From the Coptic binding using goat skin and papyrus, jeweled binding, gold filigree illuminated manuscripts, textile, wood, cut leather, to the 20th century art deco style, the decorative techniques are masterpieces of the artisans of the time.

Of particular interest is the Holy Bible covered with textile embroidered with the coat of arms of Charles I circa 1638. A remarkable piece of work.

Of historical importance was the practice all over Western Europe in medieval times of chaining books to the shelves and reading desks. This undoubtedly was due to the fact that books were difficult to replace and could not be left to the hands of the careless reader or a possible thief. An example of this type of chained book was on exhibit. This method was also largely used as a means of storing books in Cathedrals of England and Italy. I learned that Chained Libraries still exist in England. It was hard for me not to get excited about this new wealth of information. It has enriched me immensely

I thank my ex-boss of many years, a rare book collector, Dr. Martin Maximillian Bacharach for introducing me to this place and for getting me started in collecting illuminated manuscripts namely The Book of Hours. Wherever you are, I still have the Rohan Master and it still looks as new as the day you gave it to me.

A good two hours in the museum was well worth it. It was pouring rain when I got out and off I went to the next part of the loop - the New York Public Library Main Branch.

See you later.

An experience of Epiphany

Twelve days after Christmas. Today we celebrate the Christian feast of Epiphany, better known as Three Kings' Day in the Philippine tradition of the church. This is in commemoration of the arrival of the Magi in Bethlehem. Excuses will be plenty but today all Christmas decorations will be taken down and put away.

I have to trick my brain into believing that I have enough stamina for this ritual of storing these ornaments away and that this is preferable to being out there in the cold. Another snow storm is predicted for tonight and who knows what that might dump into our neck of the woods.

I really shouldn't complain since I do have a choice to stay indoors. Imagine the street vendors who have to be out there all day trying to make a buck or two selling dirty dogs, roasted chestnuts, scarves or city souvenirs. It's hard to keep a smiley face when you're out there for long hours freezing your butt.

The streets of New York wouldn't be the same without them and so we thank the cops for leaving them alone especially in the posh Fifth Avenue corners. To the occasional tourist from Minnesota or Moscow, don't despair if you don't find the exact shade of the silk pashmina you're looking for. The vendor only knows his primary colors. It is not marigold, gold, amber, buttercup, flax, lemon, saffron, canary, mustard, sunflower or mellow yellow. Yellow is yellow!

Do you really expect the poor vendor to carry the entire color spectrum? Cut the crap and stop haggling, you cheapskate! Just help the poor guy and buy the darn $5 faux pashmina shawl to take back home to your friends or relatives. Trust me, they won't know the difference!

But please be a dear and don't walk away without buying something after you've turned his stall upside down!

For the city workers who spend that precious 1-hour break eating their lunches in the park, the benches are cold and empty but welcoming. "Come sit in the sun and share his joy as the world glides by", as the sign says. Mr. Pottheiser will be happy to see you. The playgrounds are bare except for a few hungry chipmunks and squirrels. They too need to work for their living.

The days are getting longer or so it seems. That's a good sign. Brighter and hopefully warmer days are here to come. That's something I look forward to.

I'm inspired by that street peddler who braves the elements. His life on the streets injects a certain drama to our own lives. We are fortunate but not necessarily better than he is. And that colorblind knucklehead who can't decide to what scale he or she wants to live his or her life, let it be. Surprise, surprise! Sometimes we tend to act the same way.

I just had an epiphany!

Great start for 2009

After a quick lunch at Pilar’s, we dropped off our moms at home and drove off to Judy’s for the New Year’s Day get together with our own version of the “Beardstown Ladies” except that this was at Levittown, New York. And it’s composed of six of us with no head for business but quite aware of our retirement needs. This was supposed to be the New Year’s Eve celebration that was called off due to the inclement weather.

Waiting for us at Judy's was Dorothy. Mimi was just "dying" as we rudely interrupted with our heavy pounding on Judy's door. The two ladies were listening to the La Boheme portion of the opera marathon when we showed up. Perfect timing!

While thawing out, we started with our drinks and some pickings of nuts, slices of Dorothy’s delicious sausage bread and the traditional pickled herring. The few ice cubes thrown into my beverage glass didn’t help me warm up, so I took ownership of the thick afghan that was neatly folded behind Judy's sofa. An heirloom, it was crocheted by her grandmother. You’ll see the rich colors and the beautiful tassels. My afghan ended up with Chong, poor girl was freezing so Judy had to crank up the thermostat.

Celine arrived sporting a jacket which became a focus of the conversation. She modeled what is supposed to be a horse riding jacket. The vented back flap snaps open, the sleeves zip out to a sleeveless jacket and there's a few other neat features. She lost me after the sleeves part of the show and tell.

True to form, Judy and Celine started butting heads just because Judy suggested that it’s perfect for golfing. Of course Celine insisted that "It is not! It is a riding jacket that’s why it’s branded Equus!". Oh dear, and it went on so we just laughed our heads off. I found that it’s better to steer clear and butt away from this type of horn-striking attacks than take sides. Rose is new to this and I wonder what she thought of this Punch Judy Show. You read it right - Punch Judy! Capish?

Dinner consisted of fresh salad greens and saucy lasagna just the way I prefer it, with a side dish of Judy’s specialty Turkish vegetable mix. And the discussions continued, peppered with facetious remarks from Celine or Dorothy.

Topics varied from Dorothy’s repulsion for the sitcom Two and a Half Men, a show which I find very funny, to the Japanese atrocities during the war, a crash course on Philippine history, the stoicism of the Germans (that includes Dorothy herself then), our views of the Catholic church and its doctrines and the Bush versus Obama presidency.

The last item was quite heated as you can imagine, poor Rose was ostracized for being the only Republican in the group.

Strong points were argued, not necessarily won, but obviously were stronger than the coffee brewed using Judy's Keurig coffee maker. Quite an expensive gadget with its single-pack brewing system of K-cups. Great idea but definitely not within Kmart price range! A Christmas gift from her daughter.

It was a big production. Having the most experience with this, Chong gave us a demo on how to operate the freaking machine. She conned her boss to get one for the office, at an intentional miscalculated cost of $0.40 per cup that turned out to be actually $1.60 but the chief didn’t bother checking Einstein's math. And Chong is not about to fess up to any wrongdoing, claims "they all love it at the office, it's a tiny perk the company must subsidize".

Coffee did the trick and calmed everyone down. Judy’s apple crisp and Chong's homemade biscotti went well with this. Dorothy’s rice pudding was served with a huge hole on one side of the baking dish. She claimed she got hungry before she left home, so she just had to taste the finished product but almost devoured the whole thing. We parted ways at some point after Dorothy (the voracious reader) talked about the book The Gate House by Nelson DeMille, which she recommended as good reading material to her grandson. To her shock, after two pages into the book she found it to be too risque. How does she now get out of this awkward blunder? Not my problem! Ever heard of book reviews?

And aren't you the same Dorothy who was propositioned at the Red Light District on our last night in Amsterdam? Does your grandson know about this too?

She also complained that she's not challenged enough as a volunteer worker wheeling patients from the surgical suite at the local hospital. She wants to do more. Oy vey, were you this ambitious when you were still employed? And did you ever get rewarded for it? Yeah right, maybe in Oz land.

Cheers to old (I don't mean chronologically) friends and the New Year. We count our many blessings. Thanks for a wonderful dinner, Judy and to the rest thanks for a great start.